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#Bodhi Durran reader insert
velvetlilacsdaisies · 2 months
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Shit at Feelings iv
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Bodhi Durran x fem!reader
Synopsis: Bonding with dragons? No issue. Killing venin? Unfortunate, but doable. Confronting your feelings towards your childhood best friend? No thanks.
Word count: 6k 🫢
Warnings: swearing (ofc), drinking, angstttt, y/n lore, lmk if I missed anything, not proofread at the end lmaooo
A/n: the long awaited part 4!! Hope y’all aren’t disappointed, trying not to think so hardly on this part bc I scrapped and rewrote this so many times 😅
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You're unsure of when it started during the night, but as you sat at the booth with Violet, Rihannon, and Nadine; something stirred in your chest. You desperately tried to look interested in the conversation, trying to meet the eyes of Rihannon trying to focus on the way she animatedly told a story. Laugh when the women poked fun at Violet for something cheeky she’d bring up. Adding input to Nadine’s questions despite having to ask her to repeat herself without having your eyes dragging themselves to look at the other side of the bar.
Who was she?
She wore a dressed down pale blue healer uniform, her skin flawless free of relics and tattoos, glossy perfect red hair that cascaded down her back in waves. She radiated bubbliness from what you observed as she laughed at whatever Bodhi said or did a little dance when her friend sunk a billiard into a pocket. She always seemed to go right back to chatting with him. You couldn’t bear watching her cling to him, but you couldn’t drag your eyes away.
You were well aware you had no right to be sitting there, stomach churning with a bitterness of cold ire…but here you were doing just that.
Rihannon clicked her teeth, making you snap your attention back to the group. You didn’t even try to offer a coy look—this was the second time one of them caught you. You had tried the last two hours to hide your irritation, but it just kept beckoning to the surface. Slowly ticking away within you as if you were going to burst at the seams.
“Okay, what is going on between you two?” She laid her palms flat on the table.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You took a sip of your drink, acting as nonchalant as you could.
She gave you an incredulous look. “The fact you shied away from him all first year, then the first night of break whatever that was.” She waved her hand. “The other day during breakfast, when Dain came to grab him for the leadership meeting, and it was clear as day he was practically undressing you with his eyes when we first arrived.” she rattled off.
“It’s like I’m watching a romance novel unfold in real time.” Nadine said dramatically, a hand moving to her forehead feigning fainting.
You cringed, “it’s-it’s definitely not like that.”
“Not like what?” Quinn interrupted walking up to your own group. Bodhi and Imogen still had been at the table.
The mystery girl touching his built bicep. He had discarded his jacket an hour ago, his rebellion mark on display underneath his tight short sleeve t-shirt. “Ohhh,” she followed your gaze to Bodhi. “Immy told me all about this.” She said in delight to your dismay, taking a seat next to Nadine.
You brought your attention over to the curly haired blond girl. “Does everyone know about this ‘something’ except the two people this ‘something’ is about?” You snapped.
Everyone seemed to have an exciting interest in the nonexistent relationship between you and your childhood best friend.
Quinn merely raised her hands defensively, Rihannon and Nadine awkwardly sipping their drinks looking at the table interested in the wood grain.
“We’re all in the same wing, same section, Y/n it’s hard to ignore the hot and cold between the two of you.” Violet had a softened look in her eyes, being the most sympathetic toward you.
You flushed realizing your outburst, not meaning to aim it at your new found friends. The gnawing bitter feeling was just eating at you, and you couldn’t stop it from being all consuming.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, a scowl on your lips, staring into the clear fizzy liquid in your glass. Despite the tension you created, you looked at the bubbly girl across from you. “Quinn, who is that girl?”
She had a hesitant look on her face, her brown eyes swirled with trepidation. “Ariante, a third year healer.” She offered a short response, seeming to know more than she let on.
You only nodded, turning back to the other side of the bar watching the billiards tables. Ariante, the beautiful young woman, was lining up to shoot the shot, and shot Bodhi a wink before shooting. A small snarl left your lip unknowingly at the sight, leaving all the group to cast worried glances your way.
You grimaced at your behavior, not entirely sure why you had visibly been so riled up at the sight. “I’m gonna get some water.” You stood up, and left the group without another word.
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Ariante skimmed her dainty plain manicured hands over Bodhi’s biceps as she giggled over something he told the group he played with. Usually her advances didn’t bother him, last year he had given in to them as a distraction many times when Y/n avoided him like a disease. Tonight though, his chest hammered in annoyance—maybe not just with her in general, but everything tonight seemed to be so overstimulating.
The loud tavern, how he fought a flinch every time the que would knock against a billiard, the musty smell of alcohol and fried food permeating the space, and how fucking unbearably hot he was.
He knew it had nothing due to the summer weather, that the heat that festered deep within him was caused by something wholly different.
Usually he’d use churam to block Cuir out, but the effects of the few drinks he had made it harder to keep that mental shield up and his dragon’s emotions started to take over. Of course Cuir and Cleasaí chose tonight of all nights to fight.
He had spent a year being accustomed to this, but he worried about you.
You still had been clueless to everything, your dragon stubbornly kept you in the dark, which had frustrated both him and Cuir. You didn’t deserve any of that, and he couldn’t help the pang of guilt he felt when he thought about it. He watched how tense you were at the booth, the girl’s giggling at what seemed like your expense; a scowl on your pretty lips at the interaction.
Another wave of heat filled and irritation rippled through him, and he screwed his eyes shut trying to ground himself. He had ripped his jacket off an hour ago, but to no avail aided any relief to his skin. It seemed it only made the pretty third year healer cling to him more. And the only aid that was brought, was to the disdain that rose with the proximity of her.
“Damn it Henrick!” Quinn stomped her foot frustratedly, making him open his eyes again. “I thought I was playing with an amateur?”
Sawyer had a broad grin as he nabbed the gold coins on the corner of the parallel table across from the one him and Imogen played at. “Beginners luck?” He shrugged casually.
The curly haired blond furrowed her eyebrows at the redhead. “Mhm, sure. Beginner’s luck my ass.”
Imogen cackled at her friend. “You’re the one that suggests putting coins down.”
Quinn mimicked Imogen, before a playful glare settled on her features. “Shove it Cardulo, I’m gonna go wallow in pity now if you need me.” She handed the cue to Sawyer before flouncing off to the rest of the group they came with.
Bodhi’s brown eyes not paying any mind to the feisty third year rider as she joined the booth, he instead had been focused on you again. Watching how your tongue darted in between your soft looking lips licking them, the same scowl still lingering on your face.
He had longed to get a feeling of what your lips felt like since he was barely an adult. Doing anything at this point to have a taste of you, knowing he shouldn’t have felt that way. You had always been just barely out of his reach, but he would have risked anything to have that moment as selfish as it sounded.
You were his best friend.
It was more than the idea of blurring the lines of your friendship that stopped him in the past; you were never meant to be anyone else’s, but who was chosen for you. Your parents had made you a lady of the Aretian aristocracy. The intent to secure a cushy life to make sure you would never have to experience war and hardship like they had—even if it wasn’t a love match. You were forced to take the decision they made for you with poise and grace. Exposed to the corrupt society of the aristocracy that lurked behind the violence since a preteen, never supposed to know war and violence like he had. But by the time the peak of the rebellion happened, and Execution Day arrived—it had been too late for the first hand you had been dealt with. Another decision instead handed to you from a choice that hadn’t been yours to ever make.
It was self indulgent thought, but the moment he knew you safely crossed the parapet—there was a hope that ignited in Bodhi’s chest he hadn’t felt in a long while. Despite the blatant act of avoidance on your part, he quietly watched your every move the first year.
Made sure Imogen spent extra time training with you so you’d be ready for your next challenge, telling her what she needed to critique you on from sparring lessons. Insisting Garrick to convince you to eat more than what you usually did so you could bulk muscle to help ease through the gauntlet. Pleading with Xaden to rearrange squads in the flame section so he could keep a better eye on you. Every action in efforts to aid you from the help of your mutual found family was a coercion from him; so he would know you’d have a shot at surviving this hellscape.
For only a measly chance of you to finally acknowledge him.
It had only been a coincidence (or was it? Cleasaí was known to be petty) you had bonded with Cuir’s other half. The mated dragons hadn’t talked since the end of his first year. The first half of being bonded to the notorious green filled with tumultuous arguments that he didn’t know what started from. They had only been recently mated in the last decade from what Cuir told him.
Bodhi swore he did more supply runs for churam than weapons by the end of the year before they went no contact, and just coexisted in the Vale with one another.
He would have preferred that over feeling the wavering aggression through the bond at this very moment.
“Handsome boy,” Ariante cooed, snapping her fingers to get his attention from across the table. Realizing he had zoned out again staring at you, Ridoc clapped him on the back.
“Yeah handsome boy...” he purred mockingly. Bodhi shrugged his hand off quite hastily. He was not in the mood for the second year’s comedic relief…and the overly inebriated physical touch of the counterpart.
Imogen sensed his discomfort by how tense he had looked, his posture usually more lax, or a boyish grin that had been replaced with a grimace. “Gamlyn, go get us some water.” She barked, face set to a hard grimace.
Ridoc with wide eyes in the fear of the short woman, saluted the group before walking off to the bar.
Bodhi reminded himself to thank her later once he was in a better mood. Instead he twisted his face into something that barely showed interest, not like it mattered, the healer was two shits to the wind at this point. Just caring his eyes were on her. Smiling brightly once he turned back to her, even if it was a stoic look he had on.
“I need you to watch as you lose this round.” She giggled, grabbing the cue from her friend’s hand.
The tawny skinned man watched disinterestedly as she made a show of setting her shot up. She swayed her hips to the table, making sure to press her chest down into the polished wood edges so her low cut tank top showed her cleavage as she lined up her shot. She made eye contact with him, offering a seductive wink, before clumsily shooting and completely missing the pocket. If he wasn’t so aggravated, he could have laughed at the scene.
It was Imogen’s turn now, and he subconsciously let his attention wander back to the booth again, noting you were now absent from the table.
It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but his heart skipped a beat in panic. He scanned the tavern looking for a glimpse of where you could have gone. He could spot you out of a crowd anywhere—from the way you wore your hair to the way you carried yourself.
His brown eyes searched the makeshift dance floor in between tables, the line for the bathroom, the exits of the tavern. The sense of relief when he finally found you should have eased his heart, instead it pounded louder and louder as his vision tunneled. Bodhi’s stomach churned with a burning green feeling, watching you sit at an empty side of the bar with Ridoc, smiling at him as the pair of you talked.
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“So yeah, then Imogen told me to grab some water for them, and now I’m here doing that.” Ridoc rambled on about his night. Unbeknownst to him, you had spent the majority of the night meticulously eyeing the group from the booth. But you nodded along, idling swirling your finger along the lip of your cup, letting his word vomit become a white noise in your brain. “Imogen has a scary way of demanding things.”
A smirk had crept onto your face, replacing the frown you wore. Ridoc was always honest, but it was amusing to hear him drunkenly bare his soul at the bar over the silliest details. It had almost been enough to forget the prying animosity that filled your veins.
“Who are you telling? I have known her my whole life.” You reminded him rather distractedly.
Despite talking to him, your attention was still flicking towards the quieter side of the tavern—still invested in the man you’ve been stubbornly hiding your feelings from poorly and the pretty girl that clung to him. The game of billiards was dying down, only her friend and Imogen still playing one another.
Bodhi sat backwards in a chair off to the side, his chest pressed against the back, arms casually draped across the wooden top rail, and head hung low as he sipped from the bottle of ale he had been nursing. Ariante perched in a chair beside him, leaning over into his ear to talk. Her lips mere centimeters from him had your heart thumping so hard that you could hear it in your ears.
“Yeah, but you’re not like her or them in fact.” He shrugged.
That made you turn back to Ridoc, who didn’t realize you were only half heartedly invested in the conversation. Or if he did, he didn’t make it known.
“Like they’re all scary broody motherfuckers, and you're just you. Intimidating sure, but not all broody and aggressive.”
You let out a dry chuckle, “language please, they are my friends.”
He raised his full hands defensively, ignoring the fact he sloshed water all over him. “Sorry. You know what I mean though.”
You leaned your head to the side, a quizzical expression on your features. “Elaborate Gamlyn.”
You might have been aware of what he meant, just for the sake of your entertainment you didn’t mind hearing the inebriated man’s ramble of what he thought. It was the only thing that was keeping the pent up emotions beneath the surface.
“Well, you’re kind of lady-like?” He tested the word then nodding. “Yeah, lady like. Not that they don’t have manners—they have better manners than me, but you’re like a refined woman.” His eyes got big and arms were flailing as he animatedly spoke, water sloshing on him.
“Would you be surprised if I said I had been a lady?” You interrupted his spiel.
“No shit, like tea and biscuits, go for a promenade around the garden kind of lady?” He slurred in disbelief with an attempt of an accent.
The way he had said it made it hard to stifle your laugh. “Dowry to my name and all.” You mocked using a posh accent as well.
He made a strangled noise, as he puffed his cheeks out to prevent laughing. “Shit that was the worst accent I’ve ever heard.”
You tilted your back, laughing loudly as he snorted, unable to contain himself. “Thanks for your honesty, yours was just as awful.” You tried to compose yourself.
“I’m not the one that comes from the Aretian aristocracy though.” He said through a fit of giggles. You scoffed, shoving him slightly, giggling more when you had to grab his arm to keep him from stumbling over.
Once the laughter died down, Ridoc had started to talk your ear off again, but of course your focus went elsewhere. Your breath caught in your throat, the amusement on your face slipping.
Bodhi was shamelessly staring at you when you looked over this time. His eyes dark, and stone faced watching the side you resided on. He tilted his head back, draining the remainder of his drink. You couldn’t help to watch the expanse of his throat as he drank the rest of his drink, watching how his Adam’s Apple bobbed as he did so.
You gulped quietly, suddenly imagining how it would be to nip at the column of his thick neck. If he would squirm under your touch or make any soft noises if you kissed up his jaw…you were just torturing yourself at this point.
He the. swung his leg over his seat, muttering something to the pretty redhead, not waiting for a response as he made his way towards you.
Shit.
You panicked drifting back to the drunk man in front of you.
“So did you have—like—a betrothed before this?” Ridoc asked, rubbing the back of his neck, still oblivious you hadn’t been listening. “Is that why we’ve never seen you hook up with someone?!” He gasped as if he solved the biggest mystery, connecting non existent dots.
You could throttle him, trying not to watch the towering figure approach you.
“No, no, no!” You covered your face in your hands, cheeks flushing. “It never got that far, well there were a few arrangements that never went through.”
“Damn, your parents were slacking.” He scoffed jokingly.
“Ridoc,” you glared at him. Any amusement or relief from Ridoc now gone, hitting a nerve within you. The thought of your late parents always causing an ache in your chest and a knot in your stomach.
“Yeah?”
“Shut up,” Bodhi finished for you, coming up right behind him. He jumped, obviously startled by the new presence, and that it was Bodhi nonetheless. But he quickly recovered, turning to the taller man.
“You always jump right in at the most convenient times, handsome boy?” He questioned in a teasing tone. Handsome boy?
Bodhi glowered, stepping closer to your squad mate. “Call me that again—”
“Bo!” A high pitched shrill voice cut him off. It resembled nails on a chalkboard causing you to wince. Ariante appeared from behind Bodhi, a bright bubbly smile as she stumbled around him, grabbing his arm for support. “You didn’t wait for me.” She pouted playfully.
You had to fight the noise of disgust that wanted to escape your lips, but your facial expression gladly showed what you couldn’t verbally. The rational side of you knew you shouldn’t be reacting this way to a girl you’ve never met. You were past the point of rational though.
She then acknowledged you, her eyes a bright teal that sparkled sticking out her manicured hand. “I’m Ariante.”
You subtly glanced at your hands that were unkempt, nails nearly to the nubs with hangnails.
Gods, she really was everything you weren’t even down to the fingers.
You politely stuck your hand out, limply clasping hers. You hoped she wouldn’t feel your calloused fingers or notice how unladylike your hands were compared to hers as you introduced yourself.
“You know Bo?” She mused. Her hold still on him, despite her being perfectly stable. And the way his nickname came out of her mouth, you think you could regurgitate everything you’ve consumed today.
You offered a strained smile. “We grew up together actually.”
“How sweet!” She practically squealed. “I think it’s great how close knit all of you are!”
The tone deaf statement snipped the final straw of your patience and self control. No, you couldn’t let the feelings lay idly underneath any longer.
“I would say we all are,” you nodded. “I guess that’s what happens when all your parents are murdered in front of you.” You said it as if it was the most casual thing to leave your lips. The smile she wore faltered, and you could see Ridoc shove his hands in his pockets, whistling.
“Y/n…” Bodhi warned.
It could be treason speaking so freely of this, you hadn’t cared at the moment.
“What?” You said innocently, brushing off the warning look you know so well. She had started to sputter an apology, but you cut her off. “But how does such a sweet thing like you know Bodhi?” You asked, a smile growing sinisterly.
In your peripheral vision, you see Bodhi’s face pale.
“We’re acquainted.” He quickly answered, getting out of her grip as he reached over and grabbed the water out of Ridoc hands that were nearly empty from him constantly spilling. He gulped the water like a fish needing water, clearly uncomfortable.
“Very acquainted.” She fluttered her lashes towards him, tone suggestive. Brushing off your awkward interaction.
You made a noise of understanding. Everything you thought was confirmed by two words. Your thoughts lingering and spiraling. The idea of Bodhi intertwined with someone else was nauseating…even infuriating. Everything had drowned out by your heartbeat in your ears, Ridocs words were now inaudible, but assuming he was making a joke. Ariante shrilled giggles didn’t even affect you.
Why were you so mad? You had no right, you’ve been so awful to him the last couple of years—there was never a chance for you. Every interaction you two have had was just rekindling your friendship the past week not meaning anything more. Every poke and prod from your group of friends was something they misinterpreted between the two of you. You knew you shouldn’t have thought too hard on their words and jests, but deep down you only felt crushed of the hope there could have been.
Crack. You looked down at your glass that had been in your hand, the glass in between your knuckles nearly crushed.
The group flitted to you and the cup, even some of the surrounding patrons looked towards you warily.
“Are you alright?” Bodhi was the first to speak up.
“Just absolutely peachy.” You murmured, sliding the object towards the other side of the bar.
“Wow, all you riders are so strong.” Ariante laughed nervously. If this could have been any worse, you weren’t sure if you wanted to punch something or cry now.
“Excuse me,” fighting the lump in your throat. Standing up quickly walking towards the nearest exit without a word.
You walked outside, not quite being able to comprehend what just happened in the matter of seconds. Clenching and unclenching your fists, your chest heaving as everything felt as if it was closing in, pacing on the cobblestone outside the tavern. The smell of incoming rain permeating the humid air that blanketed over the quaint town. Usually a smell that eased your mind, was an overbearing semblance to the internal storm inside you.
“Y/n!” Bodhi called out your name, walking out the door you walked out of moments prior. The bass in his voice stoked the fire that formed in the pit of your stomach, ready to burn you from the inside out. Turning on your heel you faced the 6’3 man, brows already furrowed in glaring daggers towards him, chest still heaving erratically unable to control your breaths.
“You need to breathe.” He didn’t let your behavior deter him. His tone smooth and even, several feet away, not meeting your gaze like if he did he would combust into flames from your glare.
You scoffed, “shouldn’t you be inside with Ariante?” Her name dripped off your tongue with venom.
He opened and closed his full lips, setting his hands on his hips; absolutely dumbfounded. “Y/n…” he said through staggered breath. “I came here with you tonight.” He took a few steps towards you cautiously. “I came up to talk to you at the bar, trying to leave her with her friend.” His focus seemed to be on the wall behind you, and not your own eyes as he still walked towards you. “I followed you out here, leaving her in there.” His words slow, as he stepped right in front of you. “Does it look like I give a fuck about her?” He didn’t let you answer.
“Has everything this past year made it look like I give fuck about anyone else, but you?”
Despite the tug in your heart you felt at his words, pulling you out of your blind rage and jealousy for a split second—it was frustrating how he refused to look you in the eyes.
“You were letting her hang all over you tonight, how can I believe that?!” You held your chest with one arm, the other outstretched to the door.
He gave an aggravated shout, lunging and grabbing your arms. You stiffened at his touch, his hands were just as hot as you felt. He seemed to notice as well, flinching at the realization, but his hold stayed secure on you. He leaned down, his breath warm against the shell of your ear.
“If you watched my every move, you would have noticed I wasn’t interested in her. I was only watching you the whole night.” That Gods forsaken deadly calm tone sent a shiver down your spine despite the heat you felt. “Now lift your arms up.” He ordered, the sentence barely above a whisper.
His usual honeyed brown eyes finally locked with yours, dangerously darkened. A silent gasp leaving your mouth agape, unable to pull away from his dark orbs submitting to his quiet demand, your arms rising up slowly.
His rough calloused skin brushing your arms ignited a solely different fire within you as he slid the sweater off your frame. “Fuck, you’re burning up.” He muttered, throwing the sweater on the cobblestone leaving you in the corseted tank top you had on underneath. Lightning flashed in the skyline, thunder following a moment later, and rain started to pour from the clouds moments later. The droplets are warm from the summertime, but still cooler than both your skin, creating a steam that ghosts around the both of you.
“So are you,” you said breathlessly. “Do you have any idea why?” You two were so close your chests brushed together, every time one of you breathed. You anticipated what he would say next, but Bodhi kept quiet, tugging on his lip, seeming to be fighting a battle with himself. He turned away from you, rubbing a hand over his face, looking up at the rain stricken sky.
“You do know don’t you?” You rasped.
“I just want to preface I wanted to tell you—”
‘Don’t. You. Dare. Tawny. One.’ Cleasaí dangerously seethed through your head.
It had been silent on the other side of the bond all night, you tugged the invisible string to her countless times, but no answer. Now she wanted her presence known? Known to someone that couldn’t hear her nonetheless.
‘She deserves to know what you’ve been hiding.’ Bodhi glowered. You were still watching him, and he hadn’t opened his mouth…and he heard your dragon?
A new deep sophisticated tone entered your mind, ‘Cleasaí the inevitable is going to happen—‘ Cuir?
‘That I’ll find out?’ You stood in that mental art studio you were taught to use as your source for grounding. The door wide open letting in the thoughts and voices that freely flew through your mental guards. That one invisible string that led to the door seemed to have an added two now.
“Shit,” Bodhi hissed.
“How long?” You gritted your teeth, focusing on the man in front of you. He stayed quiet. “How long did you know?” You repeated louder.
He looked at the ground, “since my threshing.”
You tensed, how come he knew, but you had been clueless this whole time?
‘It’s not ideal to have one rider running from the other while their supposed mated dragons aren’t even on speaking terms.’ Cuir explained.
You fought the tears that lined your eyes, ‘he gets to know, while I’m left in the dark?!’
‘That was for Cleasaí to tell you, my rider had no choice to listen to us dragonkind.’ Cuir explained with a steeliness.
‘And I told her I would tell her in due time.’ Cleasaí chuffed in the corners of your mind.
It felt crowded in your brain, two additional voices, on top of your grappling emotions. You inhaled deeply, blinking tears away furiously.
“Y/n,” Bodhi came towards you. “I wanted to tell you.”
“When was I going to be told?” You snapped. “When you graduate?!” A couple tears now silently slip down your cheeks.
You didn’t know where to point the frustration at. Cleasaí should have told you it was her responsibility, but if Bodhi wanted to talk to you so badly that would have been the topic to start with.
“Our luck would be they would stick you in Samara like Xaden!” You shouted.
“When was I supposed to tell you? When you were running the other direction?! Or would you have preferred a note during Battle Brief only for you to go into a volatile meltdown?” He argued.
You laughed harshly, “I would have not—”
“Oh yes you would have.” Bodhi rolled his eyes. “That’s why Xaden warned me not to.”
Your eyes widened, “Xaden knew?”
‘Why wouldn’t the Wingleader know?’ Cleasaí snorted humorlessly.
‘I don’t want to hear it from you.’ You growled shutting the mental shield up from her and hopefully Cuir. You didn’t know how this all worked.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “He’s known since before you even crossed the parapet.”
“Does anyone else know?” You crossed your arms.
“Assumedly Violet, but no one else.”
Your eyes narrowed, she seemed to know everything didn’t she?
You grew quiet, mulling over everything as the rain was the only sound that filled the streets. You felt betrayed, not only by the creature that put their faith into you and vice versa, but by the man you had grown to love. Was that why you had felt like your irritation was an out of body experience earlier?
“Why do you think I have a churam dependency?” Bodhi bit the corner of his thumb, looking at you.
“Can you get out of my mind?” You frowned, picking the soggy sweater up off the cobblestone. You sniffled, wiping your face, before proceeding to walk towards Basgiath, wanting to get out of the vicinity of him. To think you could have died without even knowing… what would have happened to the dragons—yet worse—him? You didn’t even want to ponder over the details that entailed that yet.
“Trust me I’m not trying, but your thoughts are so fucking loud.” He muttered, following you.
“Then can you not follow me?” You turned, walking backwards wiping wet hair out of your face. The sting in your eyes is almost blinding from fighting the glaze of tears.
“It’s not safe to walk by yourself this time at night.” He said as if it was obvious.
“I’ll be fine,” you tried to reassure as you slipped the dagger out of your top, you tucked between your breasts when getting ready.
“You’ve been drinking, Y/n. That’s not going to do shit.” He tried to catch up to you, but you were a step ahead, even walking backwards.
“I feel stone cold sober at this moment.” You half lied, quickly turning back around, putting the dagger back where you kept it. You didn’t want him to see how your lip trembled, and you were ready to break. That was the last thing you needed was to have a ‘volatile meltdown’ in front of him. Though that’s what this whole night felt like, a tantrum of a fever dream.
You two came to a fork in the path that led to Basgiath from Chantara. You may have forgotten which path you took earlier in the night. So you hoped as you veered left, you would be going the right way, anything to just get away.
But his hand caught your arm, pulling you around to face him.
“I just got you back, I’m not letting you just be barely out of my reach again.” He seethed, his grip firm, but gentle. His touch was still blistering against your own skin.
“I’m not doing it, Y/n. I’ve already spent years running for you when you just kept running backwards for whatever reason!”
The tears had silently begun to fall again down your cheeks, this time unable to stop. “Do you want the reason, Bodhi?” You could feel yourself start to shake as the words left your mouth. “Because I love you!” You finally admitted, the confession a hushed whisper.
You watched with tears flowing freely as he staggered back a couple steps at what you said. He remained quiet as you continued. “I was never meant to love someone freely. And everyone I loved left—”
Your declaration is cut off by his lips smashing to yours. A primal fiery heat as your lips connected, his hands cupping your jaw, your lips melted with his realizing he was kissing you. The taste of the saltiness from your tears mixed with the essence of alcohol on both your lips was dizzying.
This was everything you could have imagined and more since you were a young woman. Everything you wanted the past five years. You felt his thumbs brush underneath your chin as you relished the feeling as you continued to kiss him with a fervor you never experienced. Your hands sliding up his chest around the back of his neck, gripping on his wet dark curls you’ve always admired. A soft sigh left his lips, and it was a noise you could listen to forever, but of course your thoughts spiraled.
A much more important secret was withheld from you, not only by him, but Cleasaí. A petty love confession that you withheld as a way to protect yourself and what you thought would protect him, when the secret of bonded dragons affected four beings outweighed it all. Whether it was his choice or not.
You pulled away abruptly. “I-I can’t.” You said, feeling your own heart break.
“What do you mean you can’t?” He sputtered, confused.
“Me professing my love doesn’t change any of the circumstances.” You shook your head, letting go of him reluctantly. “If anything it only adds to the risk of this whole situation.”
You needed to think about everything thoroughly, and away from him. If not, you might not think straight. You had to go.
“Y/n,” Bodhi pleaded desperately. He watched you turn and make your way back to the war college. You ignored him, even when your bones itched to turn and run back into his arms. “Do my feelings mean nothing to you?!” He shouted, standing where you left him.
Your steps faltered, and that break you felt in your chest worsened. You turned, with a strained smile on your face through your tears.
“They do, more than you could ever realize.”
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Y/n is definitely Violet coded I’m sorry 😅 and the y/n lore will thicken in part 5 hehe
Thank you sm for the comments and support, it means a lot to have people that actually enjoy what I put out and try to have patience for my posting inconsistency!! I love talking with you all about it and hearing your conspiracies through out the whole series. I think there will be 2-3 more part before I finish and move on to my next ventures, but as always like, reblogs, and comments are appreciated 🫶🏻🫶🏻
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callsign-rogueone · 3 months
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the archives // Fourth Wing masterlist
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welcome to the fourth wing.
these are all reader inserts, using the second person “you”. everything about a certain series, including my fics and things I’ve reblogged that fit their vibe, will be tagged as “#Garrick and Angel”, “#Brennan and Duchess”, etc. see this post for further information. let me know if you have ideas / requests for any relationship listed below, or one that isn’t. my ask box is always open! request guidelines can be found here. last updated: 5.10.24
standalone fics / headcanons
Aaric Graycastle - intimacy alphabet Bodhi Durran - by your side - where were you in the morning? - not that bad at all - the night we met - intimacy alphabet 🆕 Brennan Sorrengail - you're somebody else - this is me trying - intimacy alphabet 🆕 - older (agegap!Bren) 🆕 Dain Aetos - midnight snow - part of the family Garrick Tavis - all the small things - intimacy alphabet - one for the books 🆕 Imogen Cardulo - the dress Liam Mairi - harvest day - the spider Mira Sorrengail - reunited - mercy Ridoc Gamlyn - not joking - love at first fight Xaden Riorson - a brief history of Navarre 1. i wish i hated you 🆕 all fourth wing boys: - excuses, excuses - under the weather - that time of the month all fourth wing boys + girls - study season random thoughts about multiple boys - dragon rings -
girlfriendverse
Garrick and Angel about Angel 1. keep her safe 2. what was I made for? 2.1. letters from samara 2.2 thank you - misc relationship asks
Brennan and Duchess about Duchess 1. the last six years 2. allies 3. fireproof 4. the chess game - this is me trying - braids - relationship questions - thoughts about her and Xaden - thoughts about her rings
Ridoc and Sweetheart about Sweetheart 1. love at first fight 2. like snow on the beach - relationship questions
Bodhi and Darling (no particular reading order) - not that bad at all - by your side - the night we met - deja vu 🆕
Sawyer and Peach 1. faking it
Liam and Spark 1. at last 2. alone with you - relationship questions
misc girlfriend stuff - modern!girlfriends' music tastes
poly fics
Dain + Xaden - our girl Ridoc + Sawyer 1. hey roomie Garrick + Bodhi - three in the morning 🆕
ship fics (not reader-insert)
Garrick / Sloane - wrong to love you
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callsign-rogueone · 3 months
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not that bad at all - b.d.
Bodhi Durran x partner!reader [requested] ✉️: …maybe the reader is badass and Violet is afraid of her, so when they have to fight, Violet poisons her like the rest, and Bodhi stops what he was doing to take care of her and he worries about her, and Violet notices that she is not that bad and asks for forgiveness. words: 1.6k 🏷: very basic fourth wing spoilers, one use of “her” to describe reader but that’s it, descriptions of dizziness and fainting, short description of injury (for Violet), everyone’s favorite girl makes an appearance (iykyk 😇), I made X a bit of a jerk here but he’s going through it honestly so he gets a pass lol
It’s easy enough for Violet to dust the white powder onto the last available bagel right before you place it on your tray.
You don’t notice what she’s done, too busy talking to Imogen. It’s strange for her to see the girl so docile like this, chatting happily about some maneuver one of you had pulled on a practice flight yesterday, but Violet is thankful for the distraction she provides.
She watches from across the room as you settle into a chair near a boy in her year — Liam, the tall blonde who’s been top of the class in Emeterrio’s since day one. He greets you with a smile, continuing to chat with the other marked ones at the table.
You look terrible as you step toward the mat when your name is called, flushed and sweating like you’ve been running for miles. It’s a miracle you’re still holding yourself upright.
You can do this. Of course you can. The general’s daughter should be easy work with how fragile she is. You won’t kill her, per Xaden’s insistence, but you’ll get her to tap out in under two minutes, guaranteed.
You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the dizzy feeling before the fight starts.
“Ready, cadets?“ Emeterrio asks. You can tell he’s giving you a moment out of pity, that he knows something is wrong.
Your dragon does too. “This is not a good idea.”
You ignore her. “Ready,” you confirm, wavering. 
You try to move your feet into a proper fighting stance, but the floor seems to shift underneath your boots like wet sand, and you collapse onto the mat before the professor can say go. There are a few gasps from the crowd of cadets around the gym.
“I yield,” you mumble into the slick padding, knowing that even if you can manage to peel yourself back up, you won’t be able to overpower her when you can’t see straight.
Violet sighs in relief. You’re still aware enough to know what you’re supposed to be doing. That’s good. That means she got the dosage correct, and that you should be fine again in about eight hours. 
“You were right,” you admit silently.
“Of course I was right.”
Violet’s pride is replaced with guilt as another cadet rushes to your side, looking deeply concerned.
Your vision focuses enough to recognize your boyfriend’s face leaning over you. Cold hands cradle your cheeks and you squirm away from the touch, delirious. 
“You’re burning up, love,” he says, tugging your sleeves up in an attempt to cool you off, exposing the black swirls running down your left arm. He takes your pulse, and your heart is racing. Something is definitely wrong.
He looks to the professor. “Permission to take her to the infirmary?”
“Granted,” Emeterrio says, unfazed. “Barlowe and Cardulo, you’re up next.”
That will be a good matchup. Maybe one of them will kill the other, and decrease Violet’s list of enemies by one.
The other cadet gathers you into his arms, helping you up, as you clearly can’t stand on your own, and Violet’s heart nearly stops as she realizes who he is.
Bodhi. Tail section’s executive officer, Bodhi. Xaden’s cousin, Bodhi. Fuck. 
She can feel multiple sets of eyes boring into her skin. Her gaze lifts to the other side of the gym, where Xaden is glaring directly at her, along with a few other marked ones. They all look like they know exactly what she did, and they’re contemplating how best to kill her.
Something tells her that Jack won’t be as much of a threat as the rest of your friends.
————————————————————
You crack an eye open, wincing at the brightness of the infirmary. 
Bodhi is standing over you in an instant, dimming the light. “How do you feel?” He rests the back of his hand on your forehead; your fever has dulled, but you still feel warm to the touch.
“Better, but still not great,” you answer, coughing into your elbow. “It’s like a flu that should have lasted a week just condensed into a day.”
He extends you a glass of water and you take a slow sip — you’ve been sweating so much that it’s completely dehydrated you.
“What do you make of the Sorrengail girl?” You ask. “Every one of her opponents in the last two weeks has mysteriously ended up ill.”
“You’re right,” he says slowly, putting it together. “But why just put you out of the lineup for a few days? If she’s really doing this, why is she not taking it further and just killing people?”
“Murder just isn’t her style, I guess.”
“I’m glad it isn’t,” he says quietly. “When you hit the floor like that all of a sudden… I’ve never been that scared in my life. I thought I was going to lose you.”
You take his hand, squeezing it gently. “It’ll take much more than a bad bagel to kill me,” you reassure him, sitting up to kiss his cheek. “You’ve made sure of that.”
He still looks worried when you pull away, but you know what will relax him.
You look at the clock. “We have an hour and a half until dinner. Wanna go shower and cuddle for a while?” You ask, and he nods eagerly. You smile. “Alright, let’s get out of here.”
At dinner, Xaden makes it abundantly clear that nobody is to seek revenge on the girl, which has Garrick grumbling and Imogen downright outraged, but you’re fine with the decision: if she’ll leave you alone, you’ll leave her alone.
————————————————————
The rest of your friends are celebrating — Liam and the two other marked first years have been chosen by strong dragons who will serve them well and provide them powerful signets.
It’s not unusual for the eldest of your group to be withdrawn and aloof, but Xaden looks like he’s going to be ill.
“Tab says that Tairn chose Violet Sorrengail,” Garrick’s girlfriend says in a whisper, knowing better than to let the wingleader hear her.
Your eyes widen. Tairn, Sgaeyl’s mate, Tairn? “I guess that makes her our problem now.” 
If Violet dies, so does your friend. 
So much for keeping your distance. 
————————————————————
When Violet gets to the gym for the workout Imogen had roped her into, it’s full of marked ones. 
Bodhi is sparring with a boy whose name Violet doesn’t know, looking like they’re going to kill each other but laughing as they do. Xaden wrestles with Garrick, Imogen is throwing daggers with Liam, and a quiet third-year girl in the corner looks to be… meditating?
You spot Violet standing in the doorway, heading over, and her heart pounds, wondering what you’re going to say to her after what she did to you.
You wipe the sweat from your forehead with a small towel. “Cool hair,” you say with a nod at her silver-tipped braid, and she blinks, stunned —  probably wondering why you aren’t biting her head off. 
“Thanks,” she replies quietly. “Sorry for poisoning you.”
You laugh at her honesty, extending a hand to shake. “Square?”
“Square,” she answers, taking it.
“Good. Now let’s see you fight, for real.”
It takes all of five minutes for something to go wrong — an awkwardly angled kick to her knee that she can’t dodge has her crumpling to the mat, lower leg bent at an unnatural angle.
Oh, fuck. Xaden will be pissed if you’ve broken her on day one.
“Angel, we need you,” you call, and the quiet girl’s eyes snap open, at your side in an instant.
Warm hands touch her skin, and Violet startles as the pain dissipates, the bone gliding back into place. She stares at your friend, stunned. “You’re a mender?”
“Not a very good one,” she answers, anxious. “And I’m sorry, I should have asked before I just… does it feel okay now?”
“Yeah, that was great.” Violet flexes the joint a few times, without pain. “Just like my brother used to do.”
There’s a flicker of… something across the older girl’s face, but it vanishes as soon as Garrick puts a gentle hand on her back, genuine worry on his face as he looks at her. “You feeling okay?” 
“Yeah,” she answers, giving him a soft smile. 
Xaden is feeling much less warm and fuzzy, eyeing Violet with generalized contempt.
You cross your arms over your chest, giving him a warning look. “Don’t even start, X. She’s trying her best.”
“If that’s her best, she’s going to get us both killed,” he says coldly.
“Which is why we’re working on it. Aretia wasn’t built in a day, and neither were any of us. She’ll get better.”
“Fine. Then training her is your responsibility now, since you’re so optimistic, but should you fail, her blood and mine will be on your hands.”
“Xay, that’s not…” the mender begins, but she falls silent quickly after seeing the look on his face.
“Fine,” you agree, standing your ground. “I’ll train her as a personal favor to you because of what you’ve done for all of us, and because I don’t want to see her die, but you need to stop being a dick. You didn’t ask to be put in this situation, but neither did she.”
Nobody looks surprised at your defense of Violet, nor your candid speech to the wingleader. Nobody speaks, either, letting you two stare each other down in silence — this must not be the first time you’ve argued with him.
Xaden sighs, clearly having something to say, but he doesn’t protest further, turning to leave.
Violet’s eyebrows raise. You defended her, the girl who poisoned you last month, and you got Xaden Riorson to back down from a fight? 
Bodhi puts a hand on your shoulder, checking in silently — that was pretty intense.
You give him a reassuring half-smile. “It’s okay, Bo. He just needs time.” You look down to Violet. “Wanna try that again?”
She nods, letting you pull her to her feet.
You’re really not that bad at all.
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callsign-rogueone · 3 months
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where were you in the morning? - b.d.
Bodhi Durran x gn!reader words: 408 🏷: no book spoilers this time! just a little thought about our sweet boy 🥰 very brief mentions of torture (RSC), implications of sexual activity, no mention of reader’s appearance or gender.
You’d nearly given Bodhi a heart attack when he woke to find only cold sheets beside him. He’d checked his room and the bathroom attached before throwing on a shirt and heading upstairs to bang on Garrick’s door to ask if the section leader had seen you - he’d grumbled that he hadn’t, and that the younger boy needed to go the fuck back to sleep.
His head spun. Had you been kidnapped for another round of survival training? Were you chained to a wall right now, begging for mercy?
He finds himself in front of your room next, poised to knock, but puts his hand down before his knuckles can touch the wood. What if you left in the middle of the night because you thought this was a mistake, or a just one-time thing? Had you not enjoyed yourself? Oh gods, what if he'd made you feel pressured to-
“Hey,” you greet with a soft smile, interrupting the spiraling thoughts, and he whirls around, stunned.
“You’re okay,” he breathes, inspecting you for wounds — you’re a little out of breath, and there’s a fading bruise on your arm from a few days ago, but you’re otherwise unharmed.
You laugh nervously. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I thought they’d taken you for RSC, or that you regretted… what we did,” he admits, and your heart drops at the realization.
“Oh, no, love, I just went to go on my daily run with Imogen and Vi,” you explain, wrapping him in a hug and resting a palm over his pounding heart. “I’m sorry I scared you. You looked too peaceful to wake, so I just left a note on your desk.”
Oh. He’d assumed the worst immediately, too busy freaking out to look for a note. 
“Please wake me up next time, okay?” He asks in a soft voice, still holding you tightly, his face resting in the sweaty curve of your neck.
“Okay,” you agree, but he doesn’t let go. “Bo,” you prod gently, “I need to shower.”
“Right,” he says, taking a step back, a dark blush across his cheeks. “I’ll, uh, see you around, then.”
“Unless you want to join me? I’ll prove to you that I didn’t regret any of it.”
He blinks once, twice, cheeks reddening further as he realizes what you mean, and he nods a little too eagerly. 
You laugh. “Come on, lover boy. Breakfast is in half an hour, we’re burning daylight here.”
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callsign-rogueone · 4 months
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by your side - b.d.
Bodhi Durran x girlfriend!reader Your friends suggest that your recent bouts of nausea might be something more, and it sends you into a spiral, but Bodhi is there for you, as always. [requested] wc: 1.1k 🏷: no spoilers this time? set toward the beginning of Iron Flame (his third year and yours). descriptions of vomit / nausea, anxiety, one (1) reference to sex. healthy established relationship between reader and Bodhi :) writing this one was fun because I know exactly how it feels (it sucks lmao)
“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Imogen says rather indelicately, patting your back as you heave into the grass at afternoon formation for the third time in three days, “but is there any way you could be…”
You blink once, twice, realizing what she’s implying, and the mere idea has your stomach turning again, but there’s nothing left in your system - you haven’t been able to keep food down for days.
“Imogen,” Sloane scolds from your other side, still holding your hair back from your face, “we agreed that now was not the time.”
You take measured sips from your waterskin, trying to rinse the acid from your throat, but the burning feeling doesn’t subside.
You look to Violet, who remains quiet as the grave.
“I agree that it’s a possibility,” she says carefully. “But either way, we’re here for you, and I know he will be too.”
Oh, gods. You hadn’t even considered having this conversation with Bodhi yet. What would you even say to him? Hey, I know we’re in military school and doing this whole double-agent-arms-dealing thing on the weekends and there’s a very real chance that neither of us will make it to next month, but I think I'm pregnant with your child?
The women you’ve come to regard as younger sisters can sense that you’re spiraling.
“He’s a good man,” Sloane says, rare praise from her, “and he loves you. You’ll find a way to get through this together, whatever it is.”
You’re too drained to argue, but that doesn’t stop the swirl of thoughts in your head. 
You, Bodhi, and a child.
Maybe in another life, where the both of you hadn’t been conscripted to Basgiath, and you weren’t in mortal danger all the time… but even then, you’re barely adults yourselves, and your parents won’t be able to help you from the grave. You’d be doing this entirely on your own.
You shake the feeling off. Today is a Saturday, one that you have free. You’ve completed your assignments already. You’ll try to sleep this off, you decide, and if that still doesn’t kick it, you’ll see a healer. 
Sleep comes easily with how exhausted you are, but it does not show you mercy.
Muscled arms cradle a bundle of blankets. You recognize the swirling pattern of Bodhi’s relic easily, having spent many nights tracing the black ink with your fingertips as you lay beside him in the afterglow.
There’s a soft sound of discomfort from the baby. “Shh, darling,” he soothes, rocking them gently. “We don’t want to wake your mama.”
A hand rests on his shoulder; Xaden’s. “She looks just like you,” he says quietly, a soft smile on his face. 
A tiny hand peeks from the blanket, stretching to grasp Bodhi’s finger, which now bears a silver wedding ring.
You shake yourself awake, heart pounding as you move to sit up.
There’s a knock at your door. “It’s me.” Bodhi.
“Come in,” you reply weakly, and you hear the lock click — the day you had moved in, Xaden helped you ward it so that only you and Bodhi could open the door, doing the same for Bodhi’s room down the hall.
“Vi said you weren’t feeling good, so I brought you dinner,” he says gently, sitting on the side of your bed and touching a hand to your cheeks. “No fever,” he observes, kissing your forehead, and continuing to check you over for injury.
You’re going to cry. “Bo,” you say quietly, “I need to talk to you.”
“Anything, darling.” He says, ready to listen, and your heart twists hearing the same petname he’d called your daughter.
“I don’t know if it was a vision or just a dream, but…” you swallow, the words getting stuck in your throat.
Bodhi stills beside you, fearing the worst. 
Your signet gives you clouded images of the future, but they usually aren’t happy sights. You’ve come to talk to him about your visions in the middle of the night many times, as distressed as you are now. 
“What did you see?” He asks gently, taking your hands in his.
“You, holding a baby girl. Xaden was there, too, but I woke up before I could see anything else.”
He doesn’t follow.
“I’ve been throwing up for days, and I think… I think I might be pregnant,” you whisper, eyes brimming with tears. “I’m so sorry.” 
“Oh, darling, don’t apologize.“ He pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your hairline. “I love you, and I will be by your side every step of the way in either case.”
His words of reassurance are the last straw, and you finally start to cry, your tears dampening his collar.
“I’m going to stay right here, for as long as you want me to, and then we can go see the healers, together.”
You nod against his shoulder, too exhausted to respond.
Every step of the way.
He holds your hand all the way across the bridge to the other side of the college, only letting go when a kind older woman in pale blue healer’s robes comes to take you into an exam room.
You stay quiet as she takes your pulse, listens to your heart, and goes through the motions of a physical.
“You appear to be reacting to something you’ve been eating or drinking.” She diagnoses, handing you a small paper bag with medicine to take. “This should help.”
“So I’m not…,” you trail off, and she knows exactly what you mean. She’d seen how terrified you were walking in here, hand in hand with your boyfriend, and instantly realized what you were concerned about.
“Not with child,” she confirms with a knowing smile, and a weight is lifted from your shoulders. Thank Zhinal. 
Bodhi is still waiting outside. He stands as soon as he sees you, ready to draw you into a warm embrace.
“It was those damn berries,” you say, shaking your head, and he laughs, no doubt feeling the same relief as you. The rich sound soothes every nerve in your body.
He tugs you closer, wrapping you in his arms. The paper bag crinkles between you. “The moment we graduate, I’m marrying you.”
“What?” You ask, stunned.
He pulls back so he can look you in the eye.
“I thought about it while you were with the healer,” he says, as if it’s that simple, “and I decided that I want to be there for you for the rest of my life. Through all the visions, good and bad.” 
You smile up at him, pure happiness flowing through you. “I love you, Bodhi Durran.”
“I love you more, darling,” he says, tucking the bag into a pocket of his flight jacket and taking your hand. “Now, I snuck you an extra piece of cake from dinner, and if you aren’t going to eat it, I will.”
You burst into laughter. Yeah, you decide. This is the man you want by your side forever.
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callsign-rogueone · 1 month
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the night we met - b.d.
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bodhi durran x reader words: 1.6k 🏷: no book spoilers. she/her reader who wears a dress and makeup. can be read as a standalone, but this is part of Bodhi and Darling’s story!! just our shy bbs meeting for the first time before the revolution. I’m really leaning into the nobility thing here -- I was going for Bridgerton type vibes (that’s where the dress picture is from!) I sketched out their entire story last week and it's safe to say I'm obsessed. I hope you like it 🥺
April 628 AU — Tyrrendor
“The Durrans will be in attendance tonight,” your mother begins, picking at a loose thread on your duvet. “I know you’re fond of the Riorson boy — they’re his aunt’s family.”
“And we need to charm them into making some deal with father?” you guess.
It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. You already know what you have to do, what your role is in the evening’s affairs. You have it down to an exact science by now — be on your absolute best behavior, compliment the wife, let the husband boast, make polite conversation, look after the young children, if they have them…
“The deal is already made.”
You meet her eyes in the mirror. Something looks… off about her. Maybe she’s coming down with a cold. 
There’s a knock at the door. The housekeeper, Anna, pokes her head in. “My apologies, Lady, but you’re needed downstairs."
Your mother sighs, standing and looking you over before she leaves. She does not comment on your appearance, which means it must be satisfactory -- the image that she desires, the immaculate eldest daughter, quiet and proper. 
“Perfect,” your ladies’ maid, Siobhan, pronounces, looking down at you with pride. She’s pressed your hair into smooth curls that will withstand the early summer humidity, letting it fall naturally over your shoulders. “You’ll be the belle of the ball.” 
Your cheeks warm at the compliment. “Thank you.”
She fluffs the curls once more, sighing. “To think, we’ll be pinning you up like your mother soon. How the time has flown.”
You give her a nervous smile — you know your days of wearing your hair down, your days as a single woman are numbered.
“Let’s get you dressed, then,” she says, lightening the mood. “Your father bought this for you when he was last in Calldyr city, and told me to save it for the right occasion. I think tonight is that night.”
She pulls open the armoire, taking out a dress you’ve never seen before.
“Oh, it’s beautiful,” you breathe. It is indeed — a soft plum silk with nearly-transparent floral lace overtop, complete with tiny beads at the center of the flowers. 
“Go put it on,” she says with an easy smile.
You giggle with delight, taking it from her gently and darting behind the changing screen to put it on.
“How do you feel?” she asks, even though it’s obvious you’re in love with it.
“Like a princess,” you grin, unable to stop admiring the fabric in the mirror as she laces up the back for you. 
“Then my work here is done.”
The words seem more final than they should. You hug her loosely, careful not to wrinkle your new dress or smudge your makeup. “Thank you,” you say in a whisper. “For everything.”
She rests a hand on your back, smiling. “Of course, dearest. Now go help your mama get everything ready.”
------------------------------------------------------
You’re normally able to take your parents' busy parties in stride, playing your role quietly and without protest, but tonight, you feel stifled by the amount of people in your house.
It’s easy enough to slip away from the festivities, out a side door into the gardens. You take a moment to breathe, letting the cool night air soothe your flushed skin. 
Your head turns as you hear someone speaking; a boy your age, pacing back and forth across the path.  “I know neither of us had any say in this matter, but I’d like to… no, ugh. I should like to get to know you… I…” 
He sighs, straightening and starting over. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady. I hope that we can get to know each other in the coming months, and that we can become friends. I know neither of us had any say in this matter, but you have my word that I will care for you and protect you until the end of our days. I-” 
He startles, his eyes widening in shock as he finally sees you standing there.
“I’m sorry. I did not mean to frighten you,” you apologize. “It was a lovely speech. Whatever young lady it is intended for will be quite pleased to hear it.”
“I’m not so sure,” he says, sighing. “Do you know her? Our hosts’ eldest daughter?”
You finally connect the pieces, notice the resemblance he bears to Xaden, the same dark curls and tawny skin… This is him. This is the Durrans’ son.
The deal is already made.
You think you might faint, several emotions hitting you at once, none that you can name. You shove them down before they can rise to the surface. “I do know her,” you manage after a moment. “I am her.”
The boy’s eyes widen further in surprise, but quickly soften at the stunned look on your face. “They didn’t tell you, did they?” he asks quietly.
You shake your head no. You knew the time would come, when your parents would agree to marry you off to the most eligible man, ne’er to be seen again, but you didn’t think it would be so soon.
You take a good look at him, the man whose parties you will host and whose bed you will warm until the end of your days, whom you must provide an heir. 
He’s certainly handsome, with smooth brown skin and a head of thick black curls, full lips and a bright smile… and well dressed, too. His jacket looks perfectly tailored, the shirt and cravat underneath pressed and tied neatly. And he’s your age, and not ten years your senior, as some of your friends from school had been matched with. He looks kind, like he’ll treat you well — he’d said as much in the speech you’d heard him rehearse.
You know this is the best possible outcome, but you still feel a flicker of hurt. 
He wasn’t given a choice either, but at least his parents had informed him before the party began, had given him a moment, however fleeting, to sit with the news before you met. Was your mother going to tell you before Anna had interrupted, or was she going to wait until he was standing in front of you, until you had no time to protest?
Did Siobhan know, too? Is that why she’d brought out this dress, said that tonight was the night? Had the one person you trusted most in the world, that you felt you could truly be yourself with, kept this from you as well? 
You realize you’ve been silent too long, composing yourself quickly. “I agree with you,” you begin, clearing your throat delicately. “If your parents are anything like mine, there is no changing their minds. We’ll just have to make the best of the situation.”
You offer him a soft smile, though it’s clear that you’re still freaking out.
“You already heard most of the speech, I guess,” he says, giving you a bashful smile. “I’m Bodhi.”
He extends a hand to shake — less intimate than the traditional greeting of a kiss to the back of your hand, and more fitting of the occasion; this is a business deal, after all.
You take it. 
His skin is soft, and warm despite the chill of the night air, his hand wrapping around yours easily.
You flush and pull away as you realize neither of you are wearing gloves -- you’d tugged yours off when you’d come out here, unable to stand the feeling of the itchy lace between your fingers any longer.
He realizes the same, shoving his hands into his pockets. 
You clasp yours in front of you, squeezing your knuckles together to quell your nerves. You don’t know what else to say, how to begin this arrangement that will last you the rest of your lives. How had your parents managed this? And their parents before them? 
You hear your name called across the garden, every muscle in your body tensing at your mother’s voice. You scramble to pull your gloves back on, taking a few steps back from Bodhi and smoothing out your skirt.
“Go,” you whisper. “There’s a door past the apple tree.”
He gives you a nod of thanks before he darts away.
“There you are,” she huffs. “Your father and I have been looking everywhere for you.”
You watch Bodhi slip back inside, letting out a small breath of relief. She’s undoubtedly going to give you an earful about abandoning your hostly duties, but at least you won’t have been caught outside with a man, unchaperoned -- though you suppose it wouldn’t really matter, since you’re to be married, anyway.
“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, folding your hands. “I just needed some fresh air.”
She softens, abandoning the lecture, and removes a glove, touching the back of her hand to your forehead. “Do you feel alright? You’re quite warm.”
“I’m fine,” you promise, though your heart has not yet stopped racing. “We should get back to our guests.”
She smiles at you for the first time today, pulling you into an exceptionally rare embrace. “I don’t say it often enough, but I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become.”
Ten minutes ago, the compliment and the loving touch would have made you beam with pride. Now it just gives you a sinking feeling.
Later that night, after you’re formally introduced, when you take his hand and let him lead you to the center of the room for a waltz, you feel like you’ve known each other much longer than one evening; you already have a shared secret.
This might work, you decide. You just might fall in love with him.
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callsign-rogueone · 21 days
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intimacy alphabet - b.d.
Bodhi Durran x reader words: 1.9k (oops.) 🏷: NSFW. all of it. afab reader, but no pronouns or gendered nicknames used. mentions of penetrative sex, oral, soft d/s dynamics, the usual stuff. I plan to do one of these for each of our boys eventually, but feel free to send a message if you want a specific one prioritized! this is a sexy democracy, after all.
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
sleepy cuddlebug. half the time he manages to get you guys out of bed and into the shower, then proper PJs and brushing teeth etc., but the other half, you’re just curling up in each other’s arms and knocking out then and there — you’ll shower in the morning. and he might suggest that you shower together… something about saving time and water… totally not just so he can see you naked again.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
he likes his hair, the thick, fluffy curls and the way they contrast his skin nicely. and his arms. he may not be as jacked as his friends, but he’s got some nice strength and definition there that he worked quite hard for.
and don’t get me wrong, he loves every single part of you — but your chest. if you wear a low-cut or tight-fitting top, he’s gonna be staring. he just can’t help it. loves playing with your nipples, sucking on them and leaving hickies on your chest and collarbones. 
also loves resting his head over your heart while you cuddle and having you play with his hair, especially if you were in charge that night; it just feels so soft and safe and warm… he’s also the type of guy to like to fall asleep with a handful of boob, not even in a sexual way, just as a comfort thing. 
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
says he has no strong preference on where he does it — but really likes to cum on your chest. not afraid to get messy, but he’s a good guy, so he’ll be the one to clean it up and/or wash your sheets for you later.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
he’s pretty open with you about what he wants and doesn’t really hide anything, especially now that you’re in a committed relationship. but before said relationship, he definitely didn’t think of you when jacking off in the shower, and most certainly did not gasp out your name when he finished. yeah, that was the tipping point for him, when he realized just precisely how bad he had it for you and decided to finally do something about it.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
before you started dating, he had little to no experience. you figured things out together, and now he knows what he’s doing and what feels good, but it’s still fun for y’all to explore and find out new things about yourselves.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
loves you on top / riding him. that way he can see your pretty face and kiss you and hold your waist / hips, watch your chest bounce while you take him nice and deep… lots of perks to this position (for him, at least. but he’ll offer to take over if you get too tired.)
also fond of anything where you’re super close together, chest to chest or side by side — he wants to be as close to you as he can, always.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
always down for a giggle in the moment. he loves hearing you laugh. 
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
he’s doing some maintenance on a regular basis. doesn’t have much body hair, other than the loveliest little trail from his navel down…
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
oh, he can be so soft and sweet and romantic… we’ve collectively accepted that Bo is a total sweetheart, and would be so gentle and respectful and loving with you, especially your first time (which is on my very long list of smut ideas lol) 
but yes. kisses everywhere, lots of murmured praise and affirmations, soft touches… that’s just the default for him.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
see letter D.
in the beginning of your relationship, he was handling matters himself more often because he didn’t want to scare you off by propositioning you all the time -- a slight breeze can get this guy going. but now that you’re comfortable with each other, he’s usually doing things with you instead.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
not quite a kink, but he really likes overstimulation. if he’s fucking you and he cums before you do, he’s not stopping. he’ll push through the sensitivity to get you there too. he likes overstimulating you, too (remember what I said about spending hours between your legs?) but sometimes it’s not even on purpose; he just gets lost in the sauce and doesn’t want to stop -- you have to pull him off of you by the hair. coincidentally, that’s also how you found out that he likes having his hair pulled.
he also loves when you take charge, focusing on yourself while you ride him / grind on his thigh / sit on his face… he wants to make you feel good, but he also finds it really hot when you take charge of your own pleasure.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
your room, his, the showers… he won’t try much else when you’re at the school or at Riorson house (too many people around). but if you ever get a house of your own, you’ll be christening every room. and probably every piece of furniture, too.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
all the standard stuff: seeing you undressed, seeing you dressed up or wearing anything revealing, you touching him a little too much (especially touching his chest or waist), when you use that soft, teasing tone of voice. and honestly, if you initiate things / say you want to, he’s ready to go --he’ll almost never decline that opportunity, and it’s a confidence boost to him: he wants to be wanted. 
also, you being possessive and protective of him — I have a scene written where Darling threatens someone at knife-point for hurting him and he’s just like 😍😍
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
does not want to do any sort of degradation or name-calling. again, he’s a sweetheart, and he wants you both to feel loved and respected 24/7, even when he’s railing you or you’re edging him or whatever. it’s just not his thing. nope. not happening.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
he can and will spend hours with his head between your thighs. sometimes he’ll just ask you out of the blue if he can eat you out — you can keep reading or doing whatever you’re doing, he just wants to lick your pussy while you do it. though you never stay focused for long, not when it feels that good.
and he loves it when you go down on him. the boy just cannot shut the fuck up when your mouth is on him, babbling praise and swearing and making the prettiest little sounds. he would love it if you swallowed, but again, he’s happy to finish anywhere.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?
he can be slow and romantic when the time is right. he gets faster/rougher when he’s desperate, when he needs you so bad that he can’t hold it back anymore (often after you’ve been teasing him all day.) but it’s usually a good medium pace.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
loves them. this boy is ready to go at the snap of your fingers. he’s absolutely down to spend the spare half an hour you have between classes fucking you. however, comma, you always underestimate how long things will take and you’re definitely going to be late, so you might as well skip class entirely, right?
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
you’ve done a fair amount of experimenting thus far in your relationship, and are content with your usual routine now. anything new is always prefaced with a conversation about it / asking if it’s okay before you do it in the moment. 
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
he can go a good two, maybe three before he’s tapping out, but preparing for war is exhausting, so you usually aren’t going much farther than that anyway. and of course, he’s giving you loving check-ins and water breaks etc. between rounds, especially if things are getting rough.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
I can’t decide if he’d like to handcuff you / tie your wrists or not. that way he could really take his time with you and make you sit still while he plays with that pretty body of yours that he loves so much, but then you can’t touch him, and he really likes you touching him… hm.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
proper foreplay is definitely happening nine times out of ten (the tenth being a very quick quickie), but he doesn’t like to draw things out too long, because that means he has to wait as well, and he’s too impatient for that. you’re direct with each other about what you want in the moment.
however, it’s very fun to tease him all day and get him riled up because he’s just so fucking cute when he’s needy, and he’s not afraid to beg, either. but if you take the teasing too far, there may be consequences…
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
not necessarily loud, but definitely vocal. he’s not afraid to moan and whimper and whine, especially when you’re in charge for the night. but even when he’s the one doing the work, he’s still panting and giving you praise, etc. very nice to listen to. also not afraid to make noise when he’s going down on you, humming and moaning at the taste. a bit of a messy eater, too.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
he loves it when you mark him up -- hickies, scratches from your nails… this ties into that love of you being possessive of him. he doesn’t even try to cover it up, wearing them proudly as a sign to any onlookers that he’s taken, thank you.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
he’s pretty lean, some nicely defined muscle, and there’s a very nice contrast between his skin and the green of his rider’s relic, which takes up half of his back. 
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
quite high, as mentioned earlier. he’s really into you, and incredibly easy to get in the mood. you’re having some kind of sex 3-ish times a week, or however many times you want -- he’s adaptable, and will always respect you / won’t push things if you say no.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
pretty quickly, since you are almost always cuddling after (unless you have somewhere very important to be) and he falls asleep super fast if you’re holding him and playing with his hair -- that’s a guaranteed way to get him knocked tf out.
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callsign-rogueone · 4 months
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taking requests for...
other characters from these universes can possibly be added too!
hearted (❤️) characters are my personal faves, and I have active plans to write about them. I currently have at least one fic published for checked (✅) characters, but will be posting more!
see my masterlist for fics I've already published, and some works I plan to publish in the near future.
Fourth Wing
Bodhi Durran Brennan Sorrengail (Aisereigh) ❤️ Dain Aetos Garrick Tavis ❤️✅ Liam Mairi ❤️ Mira Sorrengail Rhiannon Matthias Ridoc Gamlyn Sawyer Henrick Violet Sorrengail Xaden Riorson
A Court of Thorns and Roses
Azriel Shadowsinger ❤️ Eris Vanserra ❤️ Lucien Vanserra
Outer Range
Rhett Abbott ❤️✅
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