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If you imagined how your day would go, you wouldn’t have thought you’d be splitting up a fight between Garrick Tavis and some douchebag from first wing. Now you were slamming the door to the shared lounge you and the marked ones shared and it looks could kill. Garrick sighs as he rubs his jaw. His dark eyes follow your every move as you stride towards him,shoulders tense, arms crossed. He is no doubt bracing himself for the lecture he knows is coming.

"Before you start,yes, I know it was stupid." He flashes that infuriating half smirk that always disarms you just enough to soften your glare. “But in my defense…"

You arch a brow. “Oh, this should be good."

He leans forward slightly, voice dropping low enough only for you to hear

"...I wasn’t about to let some First Wing prick imply anything about you." A pause. Then softer “..And I’d do it again."

The look in his eyes isn't just protective,it's something hotter. Something Violet definitely noticed earlier and loved pointing out in front of the entire squad. The air between you thickens, charged with something unspoken as Garrick’s words settle. His smirk fades into something more earnest,more hungry as his gaze drops to your lips for a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes again.

He’d do it again.

You roll your shoulders back, refusing to let him see how that admission coils low in your stomach. “I don’t need you fighting my battles," you say, tilting your chin up, “especially not over some idiot who thinks the only reason I haven't gutted him yet is because I'm running to you for backup, which I am not”

Garrick exhales through his nose amused, frustrated, something. “Oh, trust me,"he mutters darkly, stepping closer until the heat of him presses against every inch of space left between you. “That bastard knows exactly how capable you are." A beat. Then his voice drops lower. “But now he also knows what happens when someone runs their mouth about you, where I can hear it."

A slow, knowing smirk tugs at your lips. Your voice is all challenge and low embers.

“Care to explain why that pissed you off more than the actual insults being thrown my way?"

Garrick’s jaw flexes,his voice rougher than usual when he speaks again.

“You didn’t have to correct him."

The words hang between you like a challenge or an invitation. His fingers twitch at his sides like he wants to reach for you, but instead, he cocks his head, studying your reaction with that infuriatingly knowing gaze. “Would it really be so terrible if people thought I was yours?"

The question is low, dangerous. Playful in a way that makes your pulse skip. Because this? This isn’t just about some First Wing idiot anymore. This is about him. About the way his body tenses when other riders look at you too long. About how neither of you has ever bothered denying anything around Xaden or the marked ones because they all see it anyway.

You take a step closer, close enough to feel the heat rolling off him in waves. The scent of leather and steel and something unmistakably Garrick fills your senses.

“Depends,” you murmur, tipping your head back just enough to meet his darkening gaze. “Are you asking because you care what people think? Or because you want to be?”

His breath catches,just once,before that arrogant smirk of his slides back into place. But there’s no hiding the way his fingers flex like he’s aching to reach for you.

“Oh, I don’t give a damn what they think,” he rumbles, leaning down until his lips nearly brush the shell of your ear. “But if we’re clearing things up,I definitely don’t wanna hear ‘he’s not my boyfriend’ ever again.”

A heartbeat passes. Then another. Your pulse thrums beneath your skin as every unspoken thing between you simmers in the silence. until Xaden clears his throat pointedly from across the room where he's been watching this entire exchange with exasperated amusement.

“For fuck's sake." You look to xaden but then back to Garrick, holding his gaze, refusing to break eye contact as your chin lifts again. You could not give a shit right now. Xaden took that as his cue to leave. The air is hot and heavy between you, crackling like lightning before a storm.

"Only that it's not exactly true, is it?"

Something flickers in his eyes, frustration or desire, you can't tell, as his gaze drops again to your lips. He steps closer, the heat of his body even stronger now, and the space between you is nearly nonexistent. A growl of irritation rumbles low in his throat. He takes another step, and you're suddenly acutely aware of the cool press of the wall behind you, trapping you between stone and muscle. He leans in, so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin.

"No," he says, the word a low, dangerous promise. "It's not." The air between you is electric, charged with tension and the unspoken words. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, his proximity like a brand against your skin. His gaze drifts down to your lips, and he inhales sharply.

You don’t back down. Instead, you tilt your head, a challenge in your eyes. "Then what is true, Tavis?"

Garrick’s laugh is rough, half exasperated, half something darker as he braces an arm against the wall beside your head,caging you in without touching. Almost.

"That I lose my damn mind over you," he admits, voice dropping to a low rasp that curls heat through your veins. His other hand lifts like he can’t stop himself anymore,hovering just above the curve of your jaw before his thumb brushes along it once. Testing. “That if I had my way?" A beat of silence that feels infinite before his smirk returns with a vengeance. “Everyone would know exactly who and what I am to you”

threat,promise,whatever it is hangs between you like the pull of gravity before battle, inevitable and reckless and right.

His voice is a gruff, raw, whisper. "You have no idea how badly I need to kiss you right now."

You feel his voice vibrate through your body, a low, intoxicating hum that sets your nerve endings alight. You swallow, trying to steady your suddenly shaky breathing. Your hands itch to reach for him, to press against the hard lines of his shoulders, feel the firm plane of his chest. But you don't. Instead, you lift your chin again, matching his heated look with defiance.

"What's stopping you?"

Garrick’s gaze darkens. He leans even closer, so close his nose almost grazes yours. “Only my rapidly fading self control," he murmurs, voice rough. His thumb brushes the line of your jaw again, a slow, torturous slide that makes your pulse skip. "Or else I'd have had you against this wall five minutes ago."

Despite the heat flaring between you, you lift a brow. "You're that sure of yourself?"

A grin tugs at his lips,sharp, wicked, yours. "When it comes to you?" His other hand comes up to cage you completely against the wall, his body inches from touching. "I'm not sure of a damn thing."

The confession is raw. Honest. And it undoes you more than any smooth line ever could. His nose skims yours now, breaths mingling as he murmurs, "Tell me to stop." A challenge laced with desperation one he already knows you won’t take. Because this? This fire between you? It's been burning too long to smother now.

The silence between you stretches heavy, charged, waiting. His breath fans over your lips as his gaze locks onto yours, searching for even the slightest flicker of hesitation.

His voice drops to a rough whisper. “One word." A muscle feathers in his jaw. “Just one, and I walk away right now." But the way he says it,like it would kill him to actually do it,betrays him entirely. So you don’t give him a word at all. Instead, you close the last shred of distance yourself,crashing your mouth against his in answer. The moment your lips collide, Garick responds with a raw, desperate hunger that sears you all the way to your core. His hands grip your hips, hauling you flush against him as his mouth devours yours, nipping and teasing until you're gasping for air. He growls, low and feral, as his knee slides between yours, tilting your hips just right, so he can press even closer, his body like a furnace against yours. All the tension, the pent-up frustration and need, flares to a sudden inferno. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

His lips move from your mouth to your jaw, trailing down the curve of your throat, teeth grazing sensitive skin that has you arching against him. He presses you further into the wall, his hips rolling against yours as a hand slides under your shirt, skimming the bare skin of your stomach.

His breath is hot, ragged, as he murmurs against your throat. "God, I need you."

Garrick tears his mouth from yours with a ragged groan, forehead pressed to yours as he fights for control. His grip on your hips tightens like he can’t bear to let go,like he’d rather die than step back.

Then, in one swift motion, he hauls you up against him, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carries you out of the lounge and into the hallway. Your laughter is breathless against his neck as he kicks open the nearest door,your door,before dropping you onto the bed with a growl that vibrates straight through you.

He cages you beneath him, chest heaving,dark eyes blazing with possession and something terrifyingly close to devotion. "Boyfriend or not,"he rasps,pinning your wrists above your head,"I belong to you." His lips crash back onto yours,bruising and claiming before dragging down your throat.“So that’s on you sweetheart.” A nip at your collarbone.“Either claim me…”His knee presses between yours again,wringing a gasp from you.“Or watch me lose my goddamn mind every time someone looks at what's mine or gives you shit, gods help me”

Your laughter dies as he moves over you, pressing the searing heat of his body against yours. The world drops away outside this moment, reduced to just the feel of his hands on your skin, his body pinning you to the mattress, the rough growl of your name on his lips. His words sink in, igniting a fire that spreads through your veins. He presses a kiss to your collarbone, lips tracing a trail up your neck until he finds your ear. "You gonna make me beg, sweetheart?"

His voice is rough, wrecked, as he drags his lips back to yours,hovering just a breath away. "Because I will." A shudder rolls through him, his grip tightening on your wrists. "I’ll get on my damn knees if that’s what it takes." The raw honesty in his words steals your breath. There’s no smirk now, no playful arrogance,just Garrick, laid bare, his heart pounding against yours.

Your free hand slides into his hair, tugging until his gaze locks onto yours. "You’ve always been mine," you whisper,claiming him in the only way that matters. The sound he makes is half growl, half surrender as his mouth crashes onto yours again, finally sealing the truth between you. The moment stretches between you,charged, breathless before Garrick exhales sharply, his forehead dropping to yours. His grip on your wrists loosens, fingers sliding down to intertwine with yours as he presses them into the mattress.

"Say it again," he demands, voice rough.

You smirk, tilting your chin up just enough to brush your lips against his. "Mine."

A shudder rolls through him before he captures your mouth in a kiss that feels like a vow,hot, relentless, final. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with promise.

"Then you don’t get to call me not your boyfriend ever again."

You laugh, breathless, as he nips at your jaw. "Or what?"

"Or I’ll remind you," he growls, dragging his lips down your throat, "exactly how mine you are."

And oh, you want that reminder.

The way he growls the word mine does things to you, sends heat coiling low in you stomach. Before you can tease him more, he's nipping at your jaw, then trailing bruising kisses down your throat.

You bite back a breathless laugh as his words sink in.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" you manage to get out, a smirk tugging at your lips.

Garrick pauses,pulling back enough to fix you with a dark, heated look.

"Both."

The room is thick with tension,charged to the point of ignition as Garrick tugs you tighter against him,hands roaming your body like he can’t get close enough.

"You have any idea what you do to me?" he rumbles,the words more felt than heard,the vibration in his chest like a warning as much as a question. You can’t help the shiver that rolls through you,heat pooling low in your stomach. "Maybe a clue," you tease,voice rough as he drags his lips to your jaw.

Garrick’s hand catches yours mid-taunt, pressing your palm flat against his chest where his heart hammers violently beneath your touch. His voice is rough, wrecked.

“There’s this.”

Then slow, deliberate,he drags your hand lower, over the hard planes of his stomach, past the waistband of his pants, until your fingers brush against the scorching heat of his arousal. A sharp inhale hisses through his teeth as he forces your palm to curl around him through the fabric, his hips jerking into the contact.

“And this.” His forehead drops to yours, breath ragged. “Every damn time you look at me. Every time you breathe.” His grip tightens, guiding your hand to move in a slow, torturous stroke that wrings a groan from his throat. “This is what you do to me.” The confession is raw, filthy, yours and it sends a pulse of pure want straight through you. His eyes lock onto yours, dark with a challenge. His admission is raw, honest, hitting you straight in the gut. His eyes find yours, and they're so dark, so intense, it feels like you're staring into a storm.

"Every damn time." His voice is gravelly, rough as his hips roll against your hand involuntarily. "If I knew you'd drive me this crazy, I..”

But you're not waiting for him to finish. You lean in, pressing your lips to his, swallowing his words, his growl of surprise and need. Garrick groans into the kiss, his fingers tightening around yours as you make deliberate strokes against his leathers. So slow, deliberate, just to feel the way his entire body jerks in response. His free hand fists in your hair, tilting your head back as he breaks the kiss just to drag his teeth along your jaw.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he rasps, voice wrecked. "You trying to kill me?"

You smirk, squeezing lightly just to hear the choked sound he makes. "Just making sure you remember who you belong to."

He begins edging you towards the bed until the backs of you legs hit it and he roughly pushes you so your back lands just right where he wants you. It’s exactly where you want to be to. His laugh is dark, breathless, as he pins your wrist back to the mattress, his hips grinding down against yours in retaliation. "Oh, I remember." His lips find your ear, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "Now let me remind you."

Every touch from him is like fire, igniting sparks along your skin, and when he pins you to the bed, you arch up against him on reflex. The heat rolls off him in waves as he murmurs into your ear, his voice a rough tease that sets your pulse pounding.

"Do your worst." The words are out before you can think, and his laugh in response is filthy, hungry, as he leans back to look down at you.

"Careful what you ask for," he warns, eyes dark with promise. Garrick’s smirk turns downright predatory as he leans down, his lips brushing yours in a taunting, featherlight kiss. “Oh, I’ll do my worst,” he murmurs, voice dripping with wicked intent. “But first..”

He begins lowering himself so his eyes are level with your hips, those dangerous eyes looking into your soul as he slowing undoes the buttons on your leathers. Teasingly slow as he begins removing them. Until his hand then slides up your thigh, his fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp before he abruptly flips you onto your stomach. You barely have time to brace yourself before his weight settles over you, his chest pressing against your back as his mouth finds the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“First,” he growls, nipping at your skin, “I’m gonna make sure you never forget who I belong to.”

His hand slips under you, fingers edging so close to where you want him. The cool air against your skin is nothing compared to the heat of his palm smoothing over the curve of your hips, then your lower stomach and then.. just right there. With that possessive grip.

“Starting right here.”

His slap lands subtle and sudden on your clit, the sting blooming into heat that has you arching against him with a choked off moan.

Garrick’s laugh is dark, satisfied. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear you.”

Garrick's fingers trail lower, deliberate and teasing, as he presses hot, open mouthed kisses along your shoulder. His breath is ragged against your skin,like he’s barely holding onto his own control but his touch is unhurried, savoring every hitch of your breath, every twitch of your body beneath him.

"Tell me," he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear, "you ever think about this? When I’m across the room, when I’m training, when I’m supposed to be focusing on anything but you?" His fingers dip lower, just barely skimming where you ache for him, drawing a whimper from your throat. "Because I do. Every damn second."

His confession is raw, wrecked, and it sends a shudder through you. You twist in his grip, trying to arch into his touch, but he pins you harder against the mattress with a low growl.

"Uh uh," he chastises, nipping at your earlobe. "You don’t get to rush this”

And then finally his fingers slide home, curling just right, wringing a broken moan from your lips as he murmurs, "Mine."

The word isn’t a question. It’s a vow.

And you’re too far gone to argue.

His touch is like a flame, coaxing a fire in you that only burns brighter. He's relentless, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your throat, nipping and tasting as he murmurs into your ear. While his fingers curve inside you, the sounds of pure pleasure coating his fingers.

"Every damn time I close my eyes, I see you." He presses closer, his body like a furnace against your back, and when his fingers work inside you at a pace that has your legs weak.

"I Think about you every night, all alone in my room. gods I think about you like this every second of the fucking day." he murmurs . His voice is rough, ragged, and the possessive edge is like an electric current running through you. The knowledge that he's as undone from this as you are is both a thrill and a drug.

"Do you touch yourself like I’m touching you right now y/n?" he bites and you can taste the challenge in his words, in the gravel in his voice. "do you think about me?"

The way he says it as he curves his fingers further, has you choking out another moan, biting your lip. It's part taunt and part demand. Like he needs to know. Like he needs to hear you admit it.

"Yes." Your voice is a trembling whisper and you can feel his breath catch.

Garrick's groan is ragged against your skin, his fingers stuttering inside you for a heartbeat before he recovers barely. "Say it again," he demands, voice rough with need. His free hand grips your hip, dragging you back against him so you can feel exactly how hard he is, how much your confession unravels him.

"Tell me how you think about me." His teeth graze your shoulder as his fingers curl deeper, wringing another gasp from your lips. "Tell me what you imagine when you're alone in your bed at night." The command is filthy, impossible to resist,especially when he punctuates it with a slow, torturous stroke of his thumb against your clit.

"Or should I just show you instead?" His voice drops to a whisper, hot against your ear. "Because I know exactly how I'd have you."

Garrick doesn’t wait for your answer. His fingers withdraw abruptly, leaving you gasping at the sudden loss,only for his hands to flip you onto your back in one swift motion. His body cages yours, knees pressing yours apart as he looms over you, his gaze burning with unchecked hunger.

“Since you’re feeling chatty,” he murmurs, dragging a single fingertip down your chest, over your stomach, lower. “Let’s hear it.” His touch stops just shy of where you’re aching for him, his smirk sharp enough to cut. “Tell me what you’ve imagined.”

The challenge in his voice is undeniable. He wants the words. Wants to hear you unravel just as much as he wants to feel it. And when you bite your lip, hesitating, he leans down, his breath hot against your ear.

“Or I’ll start guessing.” A nip at your earlobe. “And trust me, sweetheart..” he takes his own leathers down and His hips finally, finally slide between your thighs, thrusting his hips in a teasing in slow, maddening motion “I’ve got very detailed ideas.”

The groan that tears from your throat is answer enough. Garrick’s laugh is dark, victorious. “That’s what I thought.”

He doesn't give you time to recover from the sensations rolling through you before he captures your lips in a hot, possessive kiss, like he doesn't just want your body, he wants all of you. It's a kiss that leaves you breathless, his fingers threading through your hair so he can angle your head just the way he wants.

When he finally breaks the kiss, breath ragged, his gaze is dark, intense as he stares down at you. "Every time I see you," he growls, his hand cupping your cheek, "all I think about is touching you." his hands spread your thighs open, before he lines himself up right there at you very wet entrance, before he slowly thrusts. Moans escape both of your lips at the feeling,the tightness against his cock.

“about fucking you y/n” he says breathlessly into your ear.

Garrick's groan is ragged against your skin as he sinks into you completely, his forehead dropping to yours in a moment of pure, shuddering bliss. The stretch is exquisite, the heat of him overwhelming and when he finally moves, it's with slow, deliberate rolls of his hips that have you arching beneath him.

"Fuck," he grits out, his voice wrecked as he braces himself above you, muscles taut with restraint. "You feel..” His hips snap forward, stealing the rest of his words as pleasure rips through you both. His hands find yours, fingers intertwining as he pins them above your head, his body moving against yours in a rhythm that feels like it was carved just for the two of you. Every thrust is punctuated by a ragged breath, a whispered curse, the way his grip tightens like he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

"Look at me," he demands, voice rough, and when your eyes meet his, the intensity there steals your breath. "I want you to remember exactly who’s fucking you."

His pace turns punishing then, each snap of his hips dragging a moan from your lips, each possessive claim of his mouth against yours sealing the truth between you.

This isn’t just sex.

This is his.

And so are you.

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