#hopefully this should keep you busy!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trashytracktales · 2 months ago

Note

omg I LOVE your writings, its my first time ever requesting one, hope u can write it (if u dont like it i would completely understand)

i was thinking about some lando thing, where his girlfriend is reading some spicy book and he accidentally reads some lines and the room gets hot lol, and when everything its done he is just the fluffiest boyfriend of the world

hope u are doing good🩵

By the book | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I genuinely had so much fun with this one, thank you so much for the request. Hopefully this is a nice first experience 😉🤍

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𐙚 summary ──── When boredom leads him to a new world, intense and full of possibilities, Lando wants to prove to his girlfriend that despite the perfect moments in her erotic books, the real deal is still better than fiction.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, established relationship, fluff & smut, descriptive language, fingering & oral ─ (f)receiving, unprotected sex, swearing, edging, teasing, roleplay elements, Max F. cameo.

𐙚 word count ──── 3.7k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 19, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Guys! I’ve got a couple more one-shots coming your way before the year wraps up, and I just wanted to thank you all so much for your patience and support. It means the world to me 🤍

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THE FAINT GLOW from Lando’s monitors is the only light in the room, casting faint shadows over his side of the bed. It’s pretty late — later than it probably should be for him to start a streaming session — but Max insisted, and Lando figured it was either this or mindlessly scrolling through his infinite feed until falling asleep. His headset lies next to his keyboard, untouched, as he waits for his best friend to finish whatever pre-stream rituals he’s currently busy with.

From the en suite bathroom, the sound of running water echoes like ambient noise, muffled by the walls yet delicate, while his girlfriend showers. He glances at the door, thinking about how she had kissed him on the forehead just a few minutes ago, hair piled on top of her head in that messy bun he secretly loves. She had told him to have fun streaming, flashing him a sweet smile that made him wish she weren’t about to leave him alone to his boredom.

Lando sighs, spinning slightly in his chair, his gaze randomly falling to the nightstand on her side of the bed. A stack of books rests there unbothered, as it always does, each spine a different color. She goes through them so quickly that he can never keep up with what she’s reading now versus what she finished last week, that's why, normally, he doesn’t pay them much attention. But tonight, in the thick silence, with Max still not ready and the hum of the bathroom as his only company, he reaches for the book at the top of the stack.

The cover is intricate and inviting — soft, watercolor-like strokes of flowers in muted tones frame a bold, serif title. There’s no hint of what it’s about, and when he flips it over, the description on the back isn’t much help, either.

“Vague as hell,” he mutters under his breath after reading it.

He flips the book open, thumbing through the pages, noticing that she's halfway through it, with a scattering of sticky tabs peeking out from various places. A glance at the pages confirms his girlfriend’s habit of underlining sentences and jotting tiny notes in the margins. He smirks to himself, picturing her curled up on the couch, pen in hand, diligently marking her favorite parts, as she always does.

He stops at one of the tabs — a pink one — curiosity getting the best of him. The text beneath is neatly underlined, with a couple of notes scribbled faintly in the margin. His eyes skim over the words, and then he freezes, blinking at what he’s just read.

His hands roamed my bare skin with a deliberate slowness, mapping every curve, every dip. I gasped when his fingers dipped lower, teasing just enough to make me squirm beneath him. “Patience, my love,” he murmured against my neck, his voice rough with desire. “I'll give you what you need.”

Lando’s mouth goes dry, while his eyebrows shoot higher on his forehead. His fingers tighten slightly on the book as his eyes dart to the highlighted lines. She’s underlined “I'll give you what you need” and scrawled something next to it — he squints to make it out.

‘OMG. The tension here is insane,’ it reads, followed by ‘On. My. Knees’.

His pulse quickens, and he feels a flicker of heat low in his stomach.

Suddenly, Lando realizes how intimate it is to rummage through her annotations, as they are pure, unfiltered emotions, evoked by scenes that obviously awakened something in her when she read them, and now he feels way too guilty to continue.

But not enough to stop.

He flips ahead, stopping at another pink tab, as if he's on autopilot, guided by sheer curiosity alone.

My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, until there was no space left between us. His mouth was everywhere — on my lips, my collarbone, the sensitive skin of my nipples. I trembled as he kissed his way lower, his tongue leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I moaned his name, breathless, as he looked up at me with a smirk that promised more.

Lando swallows hard. He shifts in his chair, hyperaware of the heat creeping up his neck. He tells himself to stop, to close the book and put it back, but he can’t seem to help himself.

“You liked that, don’t you?” he asked in a whispered tone. I whimpered in response, my nails digging into his shoulders as my body arched into his touch. “You did, my good girl,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. “Keep being good, and you'll get to cu—”

He sucks in a sharp breath, snapping the book closed. His mind betrays him, conjuring images of her beneath him, her breath hitching the way it does when he teases her, her hands clutching at him as she whispers his name in pleasure.

His jaw clenches, and he drags a hand through his hair, all too aware of the way the air has changed inside the room. Luckily, the vibration of his phone on the desk jolts him back to reality. He startles, nearly dropping the book in his lap.

Scrambling to grab his phone, he sees a text from Max:

“Shit,” Lando mutters under his breath.

He rushes to put the book back where he found it, his movements momentarily clumsy. He’s acutely aware of the way his body feels now — tense, restless, hot — as he makes himself more comfortable in his chair, tugging his headset over his ears.

The monitor flickers to life as Max joins the call, his voice loud and cheery in Lando’s ear. “Finally, mate! Thought you fell asleep or something.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando replies, his voice a little strained. “Let’s just get started.”

By the time she's done with showering and coming out of the bathroom dressed in one of his oversized t-shirts and towel-drying her hair, Lando is fully immersed in his racing game. She pauses in the doorway, watching him for a moment with a small smile on her face, and he catches her eye briefly, following her as she crosses the room, the t-shirt swallowing her frame entirely. He gives her a quick nod before returning his focus to the screens, while she climbs onto the bed and grabs the book from her nightstand, settling in against the pillows to read.

At that, Lando finds himself smirking.

It’s hard not to, knowing what’s tucked between those pages now. His fingers twitch on the steering wheel, but he keeps driving, throwing himself into the rave to avoid getting distracted.

“Mate, you’re lagging behind,” Max calls out through the headset, breaking Lando’s focus.

“Yeah, mate. Don't worry, I’m here,” he replies, steering his car to catch up.

Time passes in a blur of laughter, strategy, and the occasional curse as he and Max trade wins and losses. At some point, she gets up from the bed, her book left open and facedown on the comforter. Lando watches out of the corner of his eye as she pads over to him, stopping just out of frame.

“Want some tea?” she asks quietly, her voice careful not to interrupt his live stream.

Lando glances up at her briefly, his lips curling into a small smile. His hand leaves the steering wheel, trailing to the back of her thigh, his fingers traveling up slowly, squeezing the soft curve of her ass.

“Yeah,” he whispers, the word leaving him on a smirk.

Her breath catches in her throat at his touch, and she shoots him a pointed look, though the pink dusting her cheeks betrays her.

She swats his hand away lightly, protesting quietly, “Behave,” before disappearing into the kitchen.

TWO HOURS LATER, the game session finally winds down. Lando thanks the chat, throws a parting joke at Max, and shuts down his stream with a satisfied sigh. He swivels in his chair to find his girlfriend still awake, her book now resting on her stomach while she scrolls idly on her phone.

She glances at him and smiles kindly, watching as he heads to the bathroom, but when he gets back a few minutes later, he’s wearing nothing but a fresh pair of boxers and a wide smile. His skin glows faintly from the shower, and water droplets cling to the sharp angles of his collarbone.

Lando approaches the bed slowly, his gaze fixed on her. She looks up from her phone as he slides in beside her, his presence warm and familiar. Without a word, he takes the book from her stomach, his fingers brushing hers lightly as he closes it and sets it back on the nightstand. Then, he leans down, brushing his lips over hers in a kiss that’s soft but full of intent — definitely not the kind that he uses to send her to sleep. Quite the opposite. It makes her hum against his lips, her hand coming up to rest lightly on his chest as she kisses him back.

“You’re still wet,” she notices, pushing Lando lightly to look at him.

When he pulls away, his voice drops, small but teasing. “We can both be,” says Lando.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes, “Yeah, not tonight, buddy. You took too long, and I’m sleepy from all the reading.”

“Come on, just wrap your legs around my waist, and pull me closer, until there is no space left between us,” he murmurs the words deliberately.

For a second, her heart skips a beat, her eyes widening slightly as she registers his sentence. Blood rushes to her cheeks and beyond, her pulse quickening.

“What?” she asks, giving him a puzzled look.

Lando’s smirk deepens. He leans closer, letting his breath fan over her ear as he continues, his tone overly suggestive. “What? You don’t want my mouth everywhere? On your lips, your collarbone, the sensitive skin of your nipples?”

Her breath hitches, and her lips part in surprise. Her mind starts spinning as the words he’s quoting — the ones she underlined so carefully in her book — fall from his mouth.

“Lando,” she says cautiously, her voice shaky.

“Hm?” he asks innocently, his fingers ghosting over her hip beneath the t-shirt. “I hope it's okay, I’m just trying to remember what you liked so much. What else was there? Something about… good girls?”

She swats at his chest, but there’s no real force behind it. “You’ve been reading my stuff!”

His laughter is quiet, but there’s heat in his gaze as he leans down to kiss her again, this time deeper, as if he has a purpose.

When Lando pulls back just enough to catch her gaze, his eyes are glinting with mischief. His hand trails up her side, his thumb slowly brushing the soft curve of her waist through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

“And? What’s that about, baby?” he asks. “Don't you want to be my good girl?”

She lets out a soft laugh, a mix of flustered and amused, and presses a hand to his chest. “For the record, you’re not allowed to touch my books anymore,” she says, trying to sound stern but failing miserably when her cheeks flush under his intense gaze.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawls, leaning closer, his lips brushing her skin. “I think I learned a lot. Like how you’re into being told what to do, and being touched like this,” he continues, tracing the pads of his fingers up and down her body.

“Lando,” she protests, but her voice wavers, her breath hitching when his teeth graze the sensitive spot just beneath her earlobe.

“You marked all the good bits for me,” he says, his mouth trailing along her neck, placing soft, lingering kisses there. “Made it so easy, really.”

She shakes her head, trying to maintain her composure, but the warmth of his lips and the purposeful way his hands roam her body make it impossible. “You’re being ridiculous,” she whispers.

“And you’re so cute when you’re blushing,” he counters, his lips hovering just above hers. His tone shifts, teasing, giving way to something more profound. “Just know that if you ever want to recreate something from your books... all you need to do is ask, yes?”

Her breath catches as Lando’s fingers find the hem of her t-shirt and tug it upward. She lifts her arms without hesitation, letting him pull it over her head and toss it aside.

“And if you can't tell me, just underline the scenes,” he continues, smirking down at her. “I'll figure it out.”

“Lando…” her voice is much softer now, her eyes searching his, but he silences her with another kiss. Slow and lazy, his tongue dancing with hers on a rhythm only they know.

His hands move over her bare skin, stopping on her waist, then continuing until one of them curls around her neck, “My good girl,” whispers Lando against her lips, echoing the words from her book. “What should I do with you?”

She laughs softly, but it turns into a gasp as his lips leave hers, trailing down over her collarbone, while he squeezes lightly at her neck. He pauses to nip at the delicate dip at the base of her throat, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin. She smells like her vanilla body lotion, a faint scent that drives him wild.

“You don’t—” she tries to say something, but his mouth moves lower, and her words dissolve into a soft moan as he presses kisses across the swell of her breast, moving his hand on top of it to squeeze the flesh there.

“Relax, baby,” he says, looking up at her briefly, his expression a mix between adoration and pure need. “Just let me play by the book, yeah?”

Her cheeks burn at the intensity in his gaze, but she doesn’t look away. Her hands find his shoulders, holding onto him as his kisses travel lower, across her stomach, his tongue darting out to trace wet patterns against her skin.

When he reaches the waistband of her shorts, he glances up again, his fingers toying with the elastic. “Can I?” he asks softly, his voice full of want.

She nods, her breath shaky, and lifts her hips to help him slide them down her legs.

Lando kisses along her inner thighs, taking his time, savoring the way her body reacts to every little, torturous touch. She’s already trembling under him, anticipation coiling in her stomach as he hooks his arms around her thighs, spreading her legs wider.

“So ready for me, hm?” asks Lando, reaching for a pillow, and sliding it beneath the small of her back, adjusting her gently until she’s perfectly positioned for him. “Every time I open your pretty legs, fucking hell.”

She nods, chewing on her lower lip as she feels his hot breath falling over her skin. The first swipe of his tongue along her slit has her gasping, her head falling back on the mattress, unable to keep her eyes on him. Lando groans, the sound reverberating through her, his movements teasing, as always.

Her hands find his hair, threading through the damp strands as she arches toward him, desperately wanting to feel the heat of his tongue on her.

He looks up, his lips glistening while smirking. “Better than your book so far?”

“Mhm,” she breathes, her voice catching as he dips lower, his tongue working in a rhythm that has her eyes rolling.

He breathes heavily as he runs his tongue over her clit, teasing her hole with the tip. It's too much for her, yet still not enough to make her body shudder, but only ache for more instead. Luckily, Lando doesn’t stop, his hands gripping her hips to hold her in place as he gives himself entirely to her, the soft sounds she makes driving him on.

Patiently, he brings his fingers between her folds, opening her even more, little by little. When he pushes in the second finger, she moans his name again, which encourages him to curl them inside her, feeling her pussy tighten around him, the sound alone making him so painfully hard.

Lando’s mouth doesn’t leave her for a long while, drawing every gasp, every shudder from her as if it’s his life’s purpose. His tongue flicks, teases, and presses, his movements confident and practiced but still reverent, like he’s savoring her in a way words could never describe.

She’s close, and Lando knows it from the way her thighs tighten around his shoulders, and the way her fingers tug at his hair, grounding herself as the pleasure builds higher and higher. It makes him hum against her wetness, the muffled sound forcing a loud gasp out of her. But right when she approaches the edge, his mouth pulls away, leaving her breathless and shaking.

“Why did you—Lando!” she starts to protest, but her words are cut off when he moves up her body, kissing a heated trail along her stomach, her breasts, and up her neck.

“Patience, baby,” he whispers, the word heavy with intent. “Isn’t that what your book said?”

She squeezes her eyes shut, her breath hitching as she remembers the very scene he’s playing out now. “I couldn’t care less about my book right now, Lando.”

He smirks, his hand sliding between her legs to tease her hole again, his fingers brushing over her sensitive heat with a featherlight touch. “Tell me what you want, then. I want to hear you say it.”

Her heart pounds, her mind is spinning, and the tears are so close from slipping out of her eyes. He's still quoting her stupid book, when he should be fucking her into oblivion instead. Even though now those words feel entirely different coming from his mouth, spoken in that low, rough voice that sends shivers down her spine, only makes her cry in protest when his fingers keep playing with her clit. The pressure he applies is measured enough to just keep her on the edge, but never pushing her over it.

“I want you,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. “Need you, please.”

“And if I ask you, pretty please, to say it again, will you?” his soft voice forces another moan to slip from her lips, his fingers dipping into her pussy, slow and teasing, feeling her walls constricting around them.

She nods, swallowing hard, “You,” she repeats, louder this time, her hips rolling against his hand. “I want you.”

Lando hums in approval, his lips curling into a satisfied smile as he leans down to kiss her, his fingers moving with more intent now. “So good for me, aren't you?” he asks against her lips, and the words make her whimper, heat pooling in her belly.

It doesn’t take long for him to position himself between her thighs, his body fitting against hers like they were made for each other. Unfortunately, he takes his time, teasing her with his length, dragging himself over her wetness, his eyes never leaving hers.

“So good and needy, is that why you read those books?” he asks, mostly curious than anything. “You need something to keep you stimulated all the time? Because if that's the case, we can—”

“Please, Lando,” she begs, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, while breathing heavily.

He chuckles, satisfied, “I've got you, baby, you know I do.”

His restraint snaps at her plea, and he pushes into her hard yet measured, his gaze locked on hers as he fills her inch by inch. Her head falls back, a broken moan spilling from her lips as he bottoms out, his hips flush against hers.

“Fuck, you wrap around me so good,” he mutters, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He waits for her to adjust, his hands running soothingly over her thighs, her waist, and her breasts.

“Move,” she whimpers, her voice breathless as she drags her nails over his back.

He obeys, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm that has her arching beneath him, her body responding to his every thrust. He leans down, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that’s as much about love as it is about hunger — a desperate desire to show her that he can be whatever she needs him to be.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he breathes against her mouth. “Every inch of you.”

Her body rises to meet his with every thrust, their movements fluid and desperate as the tension coils tighter and tighter. His name falls from her lips like a prayer, and he drinks it in, his mouth finding the sensitive spot on her neck once again.

“Lan…” she cries out, her legs wrapping around his waist to pull him even deeper inside her.

“Yes, baby. Wanna hear you,” he continues, his hand slipping between them to find the bundle of nerves that has her crying out again, her body trembling beneath him as his thumb circles around her clit. “Let go for me, come on.”

She shatters beneath him, her release washing over her in waves as she clings to him, her nails raking down his back. He follows moments later, her name a rough groan on his lips as he spills into her, his body shaking with the force of it.

This will always be better than anything, she realizes — better than any fantasy, any scenario, and any book. Just them, sharing each other in every possible way, then taking their time to come down. Together.

Their bodies are still tangled when Lando asks, “So? Was it better?” his voice is rough, but playful as he brushes a strand of hair from her face.

She laughs, her cheeks flushed, and pulls him down for one more kiss; of course he knew what she was thinking about.

“I think it might’ve been,” she teases.

“Oh? Might’ve?” Lando scoffs, his grin widening. “Guess we’ll just have to try again and make sure, then.”

PREVIOUS LN⁴ ONE-SHOT

MASTERLIST

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881 notes · View notes

bandgie · 9 months ago

Text

Behave

prof!heesung x dean!Jake x fem!reader

3.1k words

warnings! mdni18+, DUBCON, 3some, throat fucking, piv, no protection, creampie, manipulation, cum eating (f!), fingering, reader is called 'slut' multiple times, abuse of power themes notes: please don't read if you're not comfortable OR before you read this! I also finally figured out how to do the three picture thingies yay!

All you did was talk back

There wasn’t any shouting, no cursing, no physical violence. Your professor was being a dick, as per usual, and you found it best to let him know how you didn’t appreciate his behavior. Truly, you didn’t think you said anything bad. Nothing that warranted an intense meeting between your professor and the university dean.

Professor Lee Heesung stood with his arms crossed, glasses resting low on his nose as he regarded you with disdain. It took everything in you to keep your eyes from rolling as the dean sat on his desk, disciplining your behavior.

“I think an apology is much needed to your professor, missy.”

Missy. You swear you see red when you hear those words. Mr. Sim Jae-yun doesn’t even acknowledge how demeaning that is to say. Not when he’s too busy looking at the exposed part of your thighs that bugle from you sitting. He’s beginning to think he should talk to the president to implement a rule that skirts must go past your knees. It doesn’t matter if being in a university doesn’t require a uniform, he’ll make it happen.

You scoff, crossing your arms in the same manner as Professor Lee. “With all due respect, Mr. Sim, I think not. Everyone in that class hates him. He’s such an ass.”

“Oh, I’m the ass?” Heesung unfolds his arms to point at you accusingly. “You’re the one wearing shorts that only show ass. I don’t need to take any type of ridicule from a slut-in-training.”

Any comeback you had quickly dies in your throat. It’s not as though you’ve never been called names before, but from a professor, that’s a first. You clear your throat and blink, still in slight disbelief. “See?” You look at Jake with desperation. “He’s being a dick right in front of you!”

But the dean doesn’t agree. All he does is sigh, “To be fair, it is really short.”

You groan. “As if any of that matters! I’m not gonna apologize to this asshole. And you can’t make me.” Ignoring their gawks, you huff and turn your head the other way. Maybe it would be better to swallow your pride and give them what they want. It would get them off your back and, hopefully, get everything back to normal. Yet, you catch yourself replaying how Heesung easily called you a whore and how the dean did little to nothing about it. Worst of all, how the tiniest part of you almost liked knowing that they were looking at you in a way that university staff should not.

The men exchange glances - looks you miss that involve smirks and nods.

“Go ahead and stand up.” It’s Jake who directs you. Rather than turning your whole head, you only peek from the side of your eyes. “Or what?”

“Or you’ll be expelled,” he says factly. Now you fully turn to him, eyes wide and mouth agape. You’re already stuttering about how he can’t do that, but he shuts you up with, “If you don’t want to give an apology, the least you can do is stand.”

So you do, hesitantly, but you do. Their gaze drops to your legs and you begin to tug your skirt just a few inches lower. It doesn’t matter how hot these men are, they still pissed you off. You couldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing your plush skin. Not unless they deserved it, of course.

Heesung crosses one arm over his chest while his other hand is at his chin, putting him in a thinking pose. He regards you much differently now. There's not as much disgust than there is interest. He takes a few steps around you, getting a good look at every angle.

You shift from one leg to the other, uncomfortable with his blatant stalking. “I don’t understand how this is going to help.”

Jake stands from his place at the desk and walks closer to you. Granted, he’s not the tallest man, but you find yourself shrinking from his aura. A presence that demands attention, respect. His ringed fingers grab a hold of your chin so you look him in the eyes. “You don’t know how to listen, but I think we can fix that. All you need is some discipline. If you wanna stay enrolled, I suggest you behave for us starting now.”

You’re too stunned to say anything. No words can form even when Heesung places his hand on your lower back. He applies pressure until you arch, the skirt inevitably exposing your panties for him to see.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about,” he tuts. “I don’t understand how you expect me to act professional with you when you dress like this.” Heesung uses his other hand to reach down, cupping your clothed mound with no warning.

The warmth of his hand makes you gasp and Jake takes the opportunity to slip his thumb in your mouth. It’s not supposed to work on you, but it manages to turn your whimpers into mewls instead as you softly suck on it. The pad of his finger presses onto your tongue and you dutifully open your throat so he can shove it deeper.

Jake can’t help but smile, one side of his lips slightly turned more upwards than the other when he looks at you. All it takes is Heesung to apply more pressure to your cunt to make you suck harder. He can feel his cock hardening in his slacks, the blood leaving his head to rush to his groin instead.

Perhaps he’ll be able to blame his terrible decisions on that fact.

You whine when Heesung pulls away from you, placing his hands on either side of your hips to guide you closer to the dean’s desk. It’s all too quick when you find yourself bent over the wooden table, legs kicked open so your thighs are apart, and your hands bound by Jake’s grip.

“It truly is a shame we have to do it like this,” he sighs, though it hardly sounds regretful in the slightest. “But we just can’t trust you’ll be good for us, not yet anyway.”

Being restrained makes you twist and turn, trying to escape from the men who have you pinned down. Your stomach squeezes with fear, but you’re starting to think a different, more intense emotion, slithers its way to your core. “W-wait,” you turn your head in an attempt to look at them. “You can’t do this. I’ll get you fired. I’ll tell.”

“Oh no!” Heesung mocks fear in his voice. “Did you hear that, Jake? She’s gotta tattletale on us!” He laughs wholeheartedly, making sure to keep your thighs pried open no matter how much you try and push them together. “Even if you do, who do you think they’ll believe?”

His finger trails up your slit, prodding your entrance before sliding back down to your clothed clit. You jolt so violently that you lurch forward and whine. Heesung and Jake chuckle at your reactions, lifting your skirt over your ass so it’s only your panties in the way.

“Good, slut,” Heesung coos. “No talking back this time. See? You can behave.”

The only reason you’re not saying anything is because you’re scared that you’ll moan. There’s no way in hell you’d let them know that you’re feeling even the smallest amount of pleasure. No matter how wet your underwear grows, no matter how hard you bite your lower lip, your pride is too strong to succumb to their touch.

But you want to, so bad you do. Maybe they can already tell that you’re becoming more and more pliant for them since Jake only has to use one hand to bind your wrists. Both of the men have their fingers at your pussy: swirling, pinching, and rubbing your cunt until you instinctively grind back on them.

Jake does the honors of hooking a finger to the side of your underwear, finally revealing the source of arousal. You squeal, wiggling to cover yourself but to no avail. It’s near impossible to hide your soaked pussy, lips fat and wet from how disgustingly good they were making you feel.

“Damn,” Heesung breathes. “Must’ve been hard to pretend to hate it, huh?”

You snarl at him, teeth clenched and eyes ignited. “I hate you.”

Heesung smiles, “Seems like your pussy here doesn’t.” He pushes the tip of his finger on your nub, flicking it back and forth. Heesung laughs when your breath gets caught in your throat and all you can do is let out a high-pitched moan from his touch. “Fuck, it’s so wet.”

Jake focuses his digits near your entrance, dipping just the tips of his fingers in to watch your hole clench in anticipation. “More than wet, it’s sobbing to be filled.” He groans when your cunt tries to swallow his fingers. “I don’t even think you need to finger her. You can just put it straight in.”

Wait. That’s not what you want to happen. Your fight or flight should kick in, you should try to scream or kick, but you don’t. Getting away is the last thing your body wants to do. All its attention is on finishing as fast and as pleasurable as possible. So what if they’re older than you? Have authority over you? They can make you feel good, even if it’s at the cost of your dignity.

It’s as if Heesung can hear your inner turmoil, and of course, he has to add fuel to the fire. “You heard that, slut? Sounds like you really do like me. Go ahead and tell me how much you want it and I’ll fuck you real nice.”

Jake, despite being the one to say that fingering you would hardly make a difference, begins to push his digits deeper inside. Two of them slowly, but agonizingly open you up. As much as you hate that they're the ones doing it, your cunt is grateful for having something to finally clench down on. Still, your will is stronger than your desire. “F-fuck no.”

But deep down you know and they know. It’s how your curses turn into mewls. How you’ve begun to rock your hips back and forth to match the pace of Jake’s thrusting fingers. The men can see the pretty, white cream coating his digits. The sight makes Heesung groan, “Can’t you behave? Just look at it. You’re begging for this, slut.” Without being told to, Jake slips his finger from your hole. You gasp at the sudden emptiness, mouth agape as you silently whine. You’re too busy mourning the lack of fingers before you feel them prod your lips.

Jake reaches around and easily slips his fingers in your mouth. It’s an immediate reaction when your tongue swirls around them, tasting your arousal and gulping it down.

“Fuck. I hope you suck cock like that.” Jake grunts when he presses the pad of his fingers on your tongue. You bite on them, but it comes off more playful than painful. The taste of yourself is overwhelming and you can’t even notice how they’ve begun to position themselves with one in front of your face with the other staying behind.

A different, slightly smaller pair of hands pin you this time. You finally recognize Jake as being the one in front of you while Heesung rubs against the curve of your ass. He’s bare, you figure, from the waist down with his cock guiding up and down. You whimper and you’re comforted by Jake pushing the hair from your face to reveal your pretty, stained lips.

“You have sucked someone off before, right?” Jake tilts his head and lets his thumb run across your bottom lip. You don’t answer, both too stunned by the inevitable outcome and how Heesung has angled his cock slightly lower so it catches your clit instead. It’s the man behind that answers for you, “Course she has. You seen the mouth on this slut? All that talking she does is just ‘cuz there’s nothing to shut her up.”

When you feel a flush in your face, you know it’s from anger. “Oh, fuck you. The only way you’re able to get laid is by - hngh!” Heesung isn’t slow when he puts it in. His rough entrance cuts you off mid-sentence. You only feel his tip widening you for a second before the rest of his length slides into you.

Now you understand why Jake stretched you open despite everything. He must know how Heesung is, he must know because of how often they do this. It all begins to fall into place now that you’re bent over, skirt flipped up with a cock in your cunt and one soon to be in your mouth. Your behavior did not warrant a meeting with the dean, let alone one-on-one. This must have been their plan. To abuse their power on a whore of a student like you so that if word ever did get out, it would be easier to write it up as a girl who simply didn’t like her professor.

Not the most perfect plan, but you hardly care to focus on the cracks when you're being jolted forward and rocked against the desk. Jake takes the opportunity to shove himself inside your moaning mouth. Your tongue goes on the underside of his cock, throat expanding so he can fuck himself deeper while Heesung does the same inside your cunt.

It’s so that it can be bearable, you tell yourself. Not because you like the feeling of them filing you.

“Shit, see?” Heesung moans and squeezes your wrists. “She just needs something to shut. her. up.” Each word is enunciated with a thrust. Heesung makes sure the sound of your bodies echo in the office. You squeal around gag around Jake's cock, neck straining from keeping your head lifted.

Jake grips the hair from the top of your head to start fucking you at a rhythm. His hips rock upwards so his tip touches the back part of the roof of your mouth. “Her throats’ squeezing me like a pussy. Fuck! You caught a good one, Hee.”

Heesung laughs, but it sounds dark. Drool seeps from the corner of your lips from the stimulation. The edge of the table only slightly rubs on your clit when Heesung rocks into you. Just barely touching your nub to make you clench and gush around his cock. You try to get on your tippy toes so you can feel him deeper inside, but Heesung is set on having you nearly flushed against the desk save for Jake’s grip forcing your chest upwards.

“I’d hardly say she’s good,” Heesung argues. “She was giving us such a hard time. Making us play with her pussy just to make sure she was wet enough. Isn’t that right, slut?”

You muffle against Jake’s dick. Neither of them make a move to properly understand what you said, both caught in the pleasure you’re giving them. Still, Heesung continues. “Ah, now I get it. You were just playing hard to get. Calling me names and acting like you’re above this when all you wanted was to be bent like this.” He’s pumping into you harder, messier. You don't even have the coordination to suck properly on Jake’s cock anymore. Not that he minds, it seems. He uses your mouth like a fleshlight, careful not to hit so deep that your gag reflex forces him out.

You can wiggle your hands though. A final act of retaliation to let Heesung know that he’s wrong. He sees it, to your surprise, and he laughs at your futile ministrations. “I kind of like it when you keep fighting back. It’ll make everything so much more fun when you cum on the dick you hate.”

You don't want to cum, you don’t even want to think about it. Yet, the taste of your orgasm travels in your stomach. You swear you can feel the head of Heesung’s cock touching it, the tip of Jake’s prodding it from your throat. All you need is that final push, a last magical touch to make you tip over. Strangely, you wish for the feeling of being on the edge to never stop. So this moment of twisted humiliation and pleasure lasts for a lifetime.

That doesn’t happen though. Not when Heesung untangles one of his hands to play with the flesh of your pussy. His nimble fingers blindly travel up until they find your clit. It only takes a couple of rubs, a few harsh pinches that make you whine on Jake's dick before you flood his cock. The consistent moans vibrate the cock in your mouth and Jake doesn’t last any longer when he feels them.

“Oh fuck. I’m cumming. I'm cumming. I’m cumming.” Both of his hands grab ahold of your face as he buries his cock deep. You sputter and gag around him, being force-fed his load that shoots down your throat. It doesn’t help that Heesung keeps fucking into you to reach his high. It makes Jake’s cock bury itself deeper inch by inch. Your eyes water, saliva and cum drip down your chin onto the desk, but Jake is content with milking himself dry in your mouth and then some.

Finally, Heesung groans. He adjusts his stance so he can fuck harder into you. His fingers rub painfully fast on your clit and you're crying for him to slow down. The overstimulation nearly makes you want to claw your own skin before he finishes. Hot streaks of cum enter your pussy, the entrance of your womb. You pulse around him, and he pulses inside of you.

Your hips wiggle to get his fingers off your clit, and they listen to adjust on your ass instead. Jake slowly slips his softening cock from your lips, moaning when your head thuds on the table and you gasp for air. He shoves his cock back into his slacks, wiping the sweat from his forehead when he’s done.

Then Heesung slips out of you, pulling one of your cheeks apart to watch his and your cream leak from your gaping pussy. Your hole pushes out the cum and he shoves it back in with his finger. “Mmm,” he hums. “It looks so good like this.”

When Heesung releases you from his grip you don’t dash for the door. You don’t turn around and slap him; the thought doesn't even cross your mind. Your legs turn into jelly, falling on the floor disgracefully. You can’t even imagine how you look, cum dripping down your thighs and chin as you catch your breath. Still, Heesung smiles down at you, though you know it’s far from endearing.

“See, slut? It’s not that hard to listen, now is it.”

#smut #enha smut #enha x reader #enha #enha imagines #enha jake #enha heesung #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #lee heesung smut #jake enhypen #sim jaeyun #enhypen jake #jake sim

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atlabeth · 17 days ago

Text

something about her

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: you’re reminded why you’re really here while spencer does some unwanted self reflection.

a/n: things have been a little too fun and fluffy around these parts so i had to fix it. it’s easy to forget you’re still dealing w a stalker when you’re busy living in denial <3 enjoy the mess! this whole thing is in spencer's pov bc this all got soooo far away from me

title from the song by stephen sanchez

wc: 5.3k

warning(s): things start to ramp up! stalking, anxiety, lowkey panic attacks, angst, hurt/comfort, r almost has a panic attack, alcohol/mentions of alcoholism, the usual. but more bonding!!

Spencer can’t sleep.

He’s tried every trick in the book. Counting sheep, counting to one hundred, counting to one hundred backwards, going through the alphabet, going through the alphabet backwards, methods with actual scientific research backing them—none of it works. He’s stared at the ceiling for most of the night.

He feels like a hypocrite most of all, preaching the importance of adequate sleep when he’ll be lucky to get five hours. But it looks like you barely sleep as is. He probably should keep preaching to you.

There’s a myriad of reasons to explain it. His hyperactive brain has been responsible for many restless nights. He’s still in unfamiliar territory, and he hasn’t gotten used to sleeping on this bed yet. Lest he forget, he’s your first and only line of protection here from your stalker. That’s enough to keep anyone awake, even FBI.

But then there’s also… you in general.

Spencer can’t say he tries not to think about you, because this past week it’s felt like the only thing he’s thought about.

It’s practically impossible, even before you were shoved into this house together. You have a way of tunneling your way into a person’s mind and refusing to leave—especially his.

Again, it’s easy enough to pass off. You’re the only ones here, and the time you’re not spending alone you’re spending with each other. Your only choice beyond isolation is to talk to Spencer, and it seems you’re slowly moving past preferring it over him.

But he doesn’t think he can just pass this off.

He can’t get your smile out of his head. Your moments of levity are so few and far between that it makes them shine bright as the sun. Spencer has learned he loves how you look when you’re happy. He just wishes it wasn’t such a rarity.

Gideon’s lecture rings in his ears. He really had two jobs—keep you safe, and don’t fall for you. Hopefully he only fails the one.

It’s not like he has to worry about it, though. You might not hate him as much anymore, but you still don’t really like him. As much as it bums him out, it’s for the best. It means that in a week or two, when the team has caught the unsub and all this is over, you can both go your separate ways and you’ll never have to see Spencer again.

That bums him out even more, though.

He lets out a long sigh. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised. JJ, Elle, now you—Morgan would say he really knew how to pick ‘em. Girls who didn’t like him back.

Just then his phone rings, jolting him out what could have been a convincing play for sleep if not for his thoughts, and he groans a little. Spencer fumbles around for it without lifting his head from the pillow, only turning slightly so he can flick it open and place it against his ear.

“Gideon, why are you calling this early?” he mumbles.

“I hope you’re treating her well.”

The gravelly voice through the speaker is a shock, and Spencer doesn’t really process it. His brain still hasn’t turned on.

“Gideon?” he asks again.

“I know you ran away. Trying to protect her like you have any right.”

His blood goes cold as the words finally register.

This is their unsub. This— this is your stalker.

“What do you want?” he asks, unable to keep the sharp edge out of his words.

“You’ve hurt her the same way he has,” the voice continues. “He’s ruined our lives and you don’t care.”

Spencer’s mind is simultaneously blank and running wild. He knows he should try to profile him or talk to him to get something out of him but— but all he feels is anger.

“What do you want?” he repeats, louder this time.

“Think about your priorities, Agent Reid. I’ll be watching.”

The disconnected tone blares in his ear before he can say anything else, and Spencer stares down at his phone in confused annoyance.

What kind of bullshit game is this guy trying to play with you?

First he stalks you for a month—possibly months— then sends pictures of you to your door, then forces you into hiding and now he’s just mocking you like this?

If Gideon is the goal, this bastard is doing a great job of dragging you along.

Spencer’s heart jumps into his throat all of a sudden. You.

He grabs his gun off his bedside table then lunges to the door with all the athleticism of a newborn baby giraffe, nearly tripping in his haste to get out into the hallway. He slams your door open once he gets to your room, and the relief that floods through his body when you shoot up from your previously sleeping position is almost dangerous.

“Spencer?” you grumble, still completely out of it as you rub your eyes. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You’re alive. You’re okay. You’re still here.

He opens his mouth to respond, still kind of out of breath, when his phone rings again. Spencer takes it out and is already pressing it to his ear.

“What the hell do you want from her?” he barks. The absolute nerve of your stalker to call back—

“Reid, it’s me.”

It’s Gideon’s voice that comes out of the speaker this time, and Spencer feels the wave of red hot rage boiling in his stomach crash against a wall of confusion.

“I—” He swallows deeply, his eyes flicking over to your befuddled expression momentarily before he feels himself flush bright red and look away. “I’m so sorry, sir. I thought you were someone else.”

“You got a call?”

His blood runs cold. “You mean you got one too?”

Gideon curses and he hears him move around. Pacing in his bedroom, if Spencer knew anything about him. “Tell me my daughter is safe.”

“She— she is,” he stammers. “I’m with her right now.”

“Spencer, what the fuck is going on?” You’re sitting up now, much more aware than you were fifteen seconds ago. “Why do you have your gun— why are you talking to my dad?”

“Do a perimeter check,” Gideon demands. “If he’s there—”

“I know.” Spencer looks back at you and sighs. “You should talk to her.”

“I know,” Gideon echoes. “Let her stay on the line with me while you figure things out.”

He nods and takes the phone from his ear. “Gideon wants to talk with you.”

You’re standing up now, a dumbfounded expression on your face. “Hold on, you still haven’t answered me! What is going on?”

“I got a call from our guy,” he says. Your eyes widen and he can see your chest still. His heart clenches at the sight. “Gideon did too.”

“What?” you breathe. “Wh— what did he want?”

“To scare you.” Spencer holds up his gun. “Can you hide in the closet while I do a perimeter check?”

You scoff. Your demeanor is still shaken, but the fire is more prominent. He’s started to admire that about you. “Spencer, I am not hiding in the closet.”

“Then lock yourself in the bathroom again!” he exclaims. He doesn’t mean for the outburst, but he can’t help it. “Just— I can’t focus if I’m worried about you, and right now the only thing I can think of is how worried I am about you, so I need to know you’re safe while I do this.”

You stare at him, and Spencer stares right back, if a little frantic. He feels his chest rise and fall from the force, a stark contrast to your still body—similar to the panic he knows is in his eyes to the steely cool of yours.

“I’m not letting you potentially face an insane stalker by yourself,” you finally say.

Spencer huffs. “I am an FBI agent. I’ve faced worse things than insane stalkers.”

“We’ve been together this whole time,” you insist. “We— we can do this together too.”

He looks at you again—he can tell you’re not going to move on this. Spencer eventually sighs and holds the phone back up to his ear.

“I’m assuming you heard that?”

“Let her go with you,” Gideon says. “It’s riskier for her to be on her own than outside with you. But stay on the line, and stay alert. Nothing can happen to her—do you understand?”

“I won’t let anything happen to her,” he says. “I meant what I said.”

“...Good.”

Spencer holds the phone out to you again, and your lip curls.

“I’m not—”

“Come on,” he interrupts, gesturing with his head into the hallway.

Your annoyance melts into acknowledgement when you realize he’s not blowing you off again, and you nod as you take the phone. Spencer wraps both hands around his gun as he starts moving, you matching his pace as you follow him.

“Yeah, Dad,” he hears you say behind him. “I’m here.”

This is what he meant by you needing to stay behind. He’s worried about you more than anything, yes, but he also can’t help but listen. Spencer has very keen ears, to everyone’s simultaneous disdain and appreciation on the team—it makes him a very good asset in the field, but also a very good asset when it comes time for office gossip.

“No, nothing’s happened yet. Yes— yes, I’m okay, I promise. Spencer’s done an annoyingly good job of keeping me safe.”

Once Spencer reaches the door, he peers through the peephole to make sure their unsub isn’t embarrassingly obvious. It’s clear, and he turns to face you and raises a hand, then places his finger on his lips.

“Uh— I have to go dark for a sec,” you say. “We’re checking the perimeter. Don’t worry, I’ll scream if anyone tries to kill me. Be back soon.”

You pull the phone away from your ear and nod at Spencer, and he holds his breath before he opens the door.

The frigid air hits both of you at once, and he hears then sees your sharp exhale of breath. It’s been a while since either of you have been outside, but it’s good to know he hasn’t been missing superb weather.

“Stay close and stay quiet,” Spencer whispers. “I’m your only line of defense out here.”

He expects you to shoot back with some remark, but you merely nod in response. Spencer hopes he hides the shock he feels before he turns away and starts walking.

Dawn isn’t for a few more hours—the only real light source is the moon high in the night sky. It doesn't exactly help his nerves to be doing all this in the dark, but part of him is almost thankful to be doing this. Spencer doesn’t know how to deal with you or any of the emotions you stir inside of him or the sleepless nights you cause because he can’t stop thinking of you—but he knows how to do his job, and he knows how to do it damn well.

He just wishes it didn’t have to come with the unfortunate side effect of you being in immense danger.

But Spencer does his best to push those thoughts to the back of his mind—right now, he has to have one focus.

And he does. The two of you stick close to the side of the house, his eyes darting all over as he tries to dig out any details, any possible sign that the unsub was here. The ground is still a thin layer of mud from the storm last night, so it should be easy to find footprints. Spencer’s Converse aren’t doing a great job at keeping him upright—slipping in front of you is too embarrassing for him to even think about.

All of a sudden, he stops, his arm shooting out in front of you. You don’t realize it for a second and you run into him, your hand wrapping around his arm on instinct to steady yourself. If he wasn’t so shocked at what he was looking at, he would have been bright red over it.

“What the h—”

“Footprints,” he whispers. “Th— they’re almost gone, but—”

“He was here?” you interrupt. Fear spikes in your voice and your grip tightens on his arm.

“Last night, maybe.” Spencer swallows the doubt in his throat. It doesn’t matter what he thinks, how he feels—he’s not going to make you feel worse. “The rain probably washed most of them away.”

“Spencer—”

“I am surprised these are still here, though,” he continues. “The rainfall was really heavy. I wouldn’t expect them to stay in mud like this—”

“Spencer, look where we are!” you exclaim, gesturing hard with your other hand. He realizes that you’ve let go of his arm by now, but he pushes it out of his head and looks.

“The window to your room,” he says. The blinds are closed and the lock is in place—he’s made sure every night—but there are small enough gaps between the shutters.

“He was watching us last night!” Your breathing is starting to come heavier and faster now. “We talked about all that shit and he was just here watching and we didn’t even fucking know!”

You’re on the edge of hyperventilating. Spencer has got to get you down or else you’re going to have a full blown panic attack out here.

“Hey, hey— look at me.” He says your name and that, if anything else, gets you to listen and meet his eyes. They’re filled with an unbridled fear he hasn’t seen in you until now. “Don’t think about him. Don’t think about any of this. He’s not here.”

“He was watching us—”

“And we’ll figure out what to do next. But you have to stay calm. You can’t let him win.”

You’re still harried, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your eyes dart all around. Spencer says your name softly, tucks his gun into its holster, then takes your hands in his, hoping that it gives you something to focus that isn’t the rest of this.

“Just look at me,” he says softly.

You suck in another shaky breath, but you’re not as frantic as before. You at least look him in the eye, and you don’t wrench your hands out of his grasp. Progress, if nothing else.

“Breathe with me.”

You nod—still panicked, but better. Spencer breathes in deep and you do the same, following as he counts up and down with his fingers. It takes a few rounds, but eventually, he’s gotten you off the edge.

Spencer says your name again, just as soft as before. You’re still breathing slowly in and out.

“How do you feel?”

“Better,” you murmur. “I—”

You’re interrupted by the phone you both forgot was in your hand, Gideon’s voice muddled as it comes from the receiver. You rip your hands out of Spencer’s as you come back into yourself, shaking your head and blinking a few times while you take a few steps away from him.

“I’m here, Dad,” you say. “We— we’re okay. No, nothing happened.”

Spencer blinks too. He looks down at his hands, then glances at you, then shakes his head. He walks back over to the footprint and crouches down, trying to keep his mind clear. He commits every detail he can to memory, doing his best to ignore the conversation with your dad in the background.

Well, he tunes in a little. He can’t help it—he wants to make sure you’re okay.

“We found a footprint outside my room,” you’re saying. “Spencer thinks it’s your guy. I have no idea. Yes, we are. You don’t have to be so pushy.” You sigh and he feels your gaze on him. “Spencer, we have to finish this up. Dad wants us back inside.”

He clears his throat as he nods a few times. “Let me get a picture of this first.”

You hand him the phone and Spencer snaps some photos from a few different angles, hoping forensics will be able to get anything out of it. He hears Gideon’s voice again and he holds it to his ear once more.

“Gideon?”

“Reid, get her back inside,” he says. “We can’t take any unnecessary risks.”

“We haven’t finished securing the perimeter,” he says.

“Then finish it and get back inside!” he exclaims. “You have proof that he was there—”

“We don’t know it’s him,” Spencer interrupts.

“We know there was somebody there!” Gideon shoots back. “I’m not risking her, and from what I’ve heard, you don’t want to either.”

Spencer feels his cheeks warm as he looks back at you, and he pulls his gun back out of its holster. “Come on. We have to finish this up.”

“That’s what I said,” you mutter, but you follow him without further protest.

The rest of the check goes by quickly without any other distractions or surprises, and soon enough you’re back inside. While Spencer chats with Gideon, updating him in a calmer manner on everything with the phone call and the footprint, you’re ruffling through the cabinets.

Eventually, he sees you pull out a bottle of clear liquid from the corner of his eye. He frowns and realizes that it’s vodka.

“It’s 4:29 in the morning,” Spencer says, cutting off Gideon almost absentmindedly as you pop the bottle open.

“And we found out that this place isn’t nearly as safe as anyone thought,” you respond sharply. “I think that warrants some drinking.”

“That means that you should have a clear mind,” he says. “Alcohol impairs your brain’s communication pathways, as well as your judgment and coordination.”

“I’ve gotten drunk before, genius,” you mutter as you search for a glass. You end up choosing a the mug you used for coffee the other morning then start pouring. “Enough to know it’s what I need right now.”

“It can also cause mood swings,” Spencer says. “I think that’s the last thing you need right now.”

You roll your eyes, not even bothering to look back at him as you finish pouring a concerning amount of liquor into the mug.

“What is going on over there?” Gideon asks. Spencer remembers he’s holding the phone and he puts it back to his ear.

“I think your daughter is an alcoholic,” he comments.

“I’m not an alcoholic,” you say sharply. “I just can’t focus on all this right now.”

“It’s best if she gets some sleep,” Gideon says. “All of this is likely terrifying to her, no matter how hard she tries to hide it.”

Spencer’s mind flashes back to your near panic attack—your wide eyes full of fear and harried breathing that only made you hyperventilate more when you realized you couldn’t control it. It’s too easy to think of you as some untouchable being from the way you interact with him, bothered by nothing and no one.

The mask cracks on rare occasion. It makes you seem frighteningly real.

“You’re right,” Spencer nods. You sip your drink without flinching. He doesn’t think he can even call it a drink if it’s just straight liquor. “We could all use some sleep.”

“Just make sure she’s safe,” he says. “Make sure the whole place is secure. We’re not—”

“Taking risks,” he finishes. “Believe me, I know.”

Gideon is silent for a second, and Spencer takes the time to look at you. The bags under your eyes are even more prominent, and there’s a haunted glint in your eyes as you stare at the wall. You shiver ever so slightly, the outside chill still lingering on your skin. You’ve got pajama pants on but just a plain tee. You didn’t have time to put a sweatshirt on before he pulled you outside in the mania of it all.

You really are beautiful—but you’re so damn tired.

Spencer realizes that all he wants to do is give you some respite.

“I’ll call you back later, then,” Gideon says. “To check in.”

“Okay.” Spencer’s throat bobs as he averts his eyes from you. “Get some rest too, Gideon.”

The other end hangs up without a response. Spencer stares down at the phone for a few seconds then sighs before he tucks it back into his pocket.

“What’d he want?” you ask.

“I can’t believe you’re drinking vodka out of a coffee mug at four in the morning.”

You frown. “You don’t get to judge me.”

“It’s not good for you.”

“None of this is good for me,” you enunciate. “What did my dad want?”

“I’m serious,” Spencer continues. “Drinking on an empty stomach can lead to low blood sugar— drinking at this hour is going to completely disrupt your circadian rhythm.”

“You know what else has disrupted my circadian rhythm?” you ask mockingly. “Being here. Having a stalker. Finding out that said stalker was also here, watching us. I think that’s a little worse for me than the alcohol.”

Spencer stares at you, and as you’re prone to do, you stare back. Eventually, he shakes his head and looks away, deciding to quit while he’s ahead.

“He wants you to get some sleep,” he says. “Wants us both to.”

You scoff and shake your head, downing much more vodka than you should in one go. Again, you don’t flinch—for a schoolteacher, you handle your liquor very well. “Like I’d get to sleep after this.”

“It’s important,” Spencer insists. “You’ve gotten— what? Three hours of sleep?”

“Well, all this excitement has woken me up,” you say.

“Well, I’m tired,” Spencer says. “So I guess I’ll see you in a few hours.”

He starts to walk to his room, figuring that you need time to cool off, when—

“Wait.”

Your voice is oddly strangled, and Spencer stops in his tracks.

“I—” you stop and sigh, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Our rooms are close to each other,” he says. “I’ll be able to hear if you yell.”

You rub your eyes as you let out another haggard sigh. “I can’t stand to be in that room, Spencer. Not knowing that— that he was right there.”

Spencer can’t look away from you. Your eyes glint with tears you’re trying to hold back, but you’re laid bare in a way he knows you hate.

You’re being pushed to your limits against your will, and it kills him that he can’t do anything to help you. Honestly, sometimes he feels useless being stuck here while the rest of the team is out there actively working to help you. All he can do is stand around here and annoy you.

Except you want him there. For the first time since all of this has started, you want him there.

It’s the only thing he can do for you right now. How can he refuse?

“Okay,” he says softly, and he nods. “Okay. We can share my room tonight.”

The tension in your shoulders fades ever so slightly, and you—thankfully—set the mug down. “Keep your gun close.”

“I’m not sure you want me shooting when I’m sleep deprived,” Spencer says.

Your lips twitch just so, and Spencer’s heart skips a beat. He can’t help it.

He should have known he was in too deep the moment he stepped into this house with you.

“Very cozy,” you say.

“It’s the same as your room,” Spencer responds.

You shrug. “It’s messy. Makes it feel like home.”

He feels his face flush. “I haven’t really been focused on keeping things clean.”

“Relax.” You sit down on the bed. “I’m not judging you.”

“Good.” Spencer glances at you as he moves his bag off of your side of the bed. “Because that would be very rude after the generosity I’ve shown you.”

You laugh and Spencer finds himself smiling at the sound of it. He’s glad he’s turned away, and he’s glad he manages to push it away by the time he’s turned back around.

You’re wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants now, and it’s strange to see you look so… soft. Every part of you is so sharp, some of it jagged—sometimes you harden around him, sometimes you mellow. He’s a bit tired of the back and forth.

Maybe that’s what makes him speak up.

“I’m tired of us always being at odds.”

Your eyebrows rise and you look at him. “Really?”

Spencer nods, his will bolstered. “Really. We have a nice talk one night, and I feel like we’ve had a breakthrough, and then you go back to hating me the next morning. I’m— I’m sick of it.”

He expects you to shoot back with some mocking comment like you always do, making fun of him for wanting more than what little you give him. But instead, you lay back against the pillows and shrug.

“Okay.”

He blinks. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod. “I’m too tired to want to fight right now.”

“You’re the one that always tries to fight me.”

“Aren’t you fighting me right now?”

Spencer shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

You chuckle. “Still fighting.”

He stares at you. As usual, you stare back, but this time you can’t fully bite back your smile. For some reason, that gets Spencer to break. He smiles too, and he settles down on the bed next to you. There’s a pillow buffer between you, but it’s still a lot closer than he’s used to.

Well, he did hold your hands earlier, but that’s because he was bringing you down from a panic attack. That doesn’t mean anything.

“What a day,” he mutters.

“And it hasn’t even started yet,” you muse. “I don’t know how you do this kind of shit every day.”

“I’m not really the target of any of this,” he says. “I usually stay behind the scenes. I’m good with geographical profiles, not chasing down unsubs.”

You look over at him. “You haven’t really talked about anything you do for the BAU.”

Spencer shrugs. “I thought it would be a sore subject.”

You pause. “You’re… probably right.”

“I figured.” He chuckles, then glances over at you. “But you already know enough about me. You said you would talk about your job. Teaching, and your kids, and all that.”

Your eyebrows rise. “You actually care?”

Spencer gives you a look. “I thought we were past that part in our friendship.”

“We’re not friends.”

He shrugs. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, but you go on anyway. “I’m a highschool teacher in Fairfax. You know Mount Vernon High?”

Spencer nods. “I know the name of every high school in Virginia.”

“Of course you do,” you huff. “But that’s besides the point. I did my student teacher hours there, and they offered me a full time position. I took it, so I guess I’ve been there since senior year.” You purse your lips. “It’s a little depressing when you look at it like that.”

“Then don’t look at it like that,” he say. “You said you loved your job.”

“I do!” You smile again, a bit lighter this time. “My teachers were a huge part of my life, especially in high school.” The lightness fades some, but he notices how you try to hide it. “If I could help even one kid the same way my teachers helped me, then I would have done something with my life.”

“That’s very noble of you,” Spencer says. “I don’t think I ever would have guessed you were a teacher.”

“Oh, please,” you say. “You’re a profiler. You’d figure it out.”

“You wouldn’t know I work with the FBI at first glance.”

“Well, I’m not a profiler. Besides,” you tip a shoulder, “I have the ulterior motive of wanting to introduce kids to the wonders of physics.”

Spencer’s eyes light up. “You’re a physics teacher?”

“I teach a load of science classes, but I carry the banner for AP physics.” You huff a laugh. “You’re probably the only one that doesn’t sound lame to.”

“I love physics!” he exclaims. “I’ve got a PhD in engineering, remember?”

You smile— no, you actually grin at him, and he can’t believe he finally broke through the barrier with science.

“Trust me, I’d love to talk physics with you, boy genius, but—” you’re interrupted with a yawn, and Spencer resists the urge to do the same— “but I think I’m actually about to fall asleep.”

Spencer shakes his head with a small laugh. He realizes that he’s relaxed while you’ve been talking, limbs looser and fully laying back against the pillows.

“This was actually part of my master plan to get you to rest,” he says. “Talking science always works with the team.”

He sees you smile out of his peripherals as you lay fully down, can feel every shift of your body against the mattress while you try to find a good position.

“It wasn’t you,” you say. “It was the vodka.”

“Of course,” he agrees.

Silence falls over the room as the two of you settle in. You take off your sweatshirt, a slight shiver running through you once you’re back in your tank top. Spencer removes his glasses, and he blinks a few times to adjust to the blurriness.

The bed is big enough for you to both have your own space,, and you’re both careful to keep your backs to each other. The silence is comfortable despite the previous animosity. Maybe all it really did take was for him to start talking science.

Eventually, though—

“Thank you, Spencer.” Your voice is little more than a whisper, but it cuts through the silence like a knife. “I— I know you don’t like me. So it means a lot that you still do all this for me.”

He’s quiet for a moment, taking your words in. The mingled sounds of your breathing are really the only things filling the room, and he can feel your weight against the mattress. It’s all oddly intimate.

“You’re wrong.” He’s almost surprised at the sound of his own voice. “I do like you.”

Your shock shows through the silence. Spencer takes his chance.

“You’re going through something no one should ever have to experience, and you’re doing it with someone you think stole your life from you.” Spencer shifts ever so slightly. His hands feel inexplicably clammy. “It was unfair of me to take Gideon’s side so often.”

“Still.” Your words are muffled as you speak half into the mattress. “We have more important things to worry about. It was unfair of me to spend so much time giving you shit. You— you didn’t even know I existed until a month ago.”

“But now I do.” He pauses. “And I’m glad I do. So you can start looking forward instead of always looking back.”

Again, silence. It lasts so long Spencer wonders if you’ve fallen asleep. Your breathing is thankfully steady (a side of him is always focused on your breathing just to make sure) and you don’t shift much, so he wouldn’t be surprised. You were exhausted—

“Spencer?”

His eyes open. He didn’t even realize they had closed. You sound half-asleep, your voice nothing more than a whisper. He wishes more than anything he knew what was going through your mind right now.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

His heart stutters so blatantly he’s sure you can hear it. Spencer honestly doesn’t know what to say—his mouth is so dry he doesn’t know if he can say anything.

Spencer thought you hated him. You thought Spencer hated you.

It’s ironic.

“Me too,” he eventually manages.

But there’s no response. You must’ve already fallen asleep again, just conscious enough to say a few words. The rude awakening mixed with the fear and alcohol couldn’t have done you much good.

Spencer swallows the doubt in his throat and closes his eyes again, trying not to focus on you. It’s practically impossible.

He’s glad, at least, that you’re able to sleep. You deserve to rest more than anyone.

Eventually, the sound of your breathing lulls Spencer to sleep.

You were the one thing he didn’t have on his list.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #gideon!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds angst #x reader #sadie writes

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etheraltides · 4 months ago

Text

BITTER SWEET ᥫ᭡࿔

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x kook!thornton!Reader

Summarize: Rafe Cameron, a rising name in the business world, desperately needs a date for the wedding of the year. With a major investment deal on the line and his image at stake, he finds himself reluctantly turning to the last person he ever expected for help: Topper’s little sister, a girl he’s bickered with since he could remember.

Warning(s): cursing, Rafe being Rafe.

A/N: English isn’t my first language and I did my best to edit it all - so if something escaped me, please, let me know. Feedback is more than welcome .ᐟ

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ Chapter two: shopping for disaster ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

Rafe Cameron sat in his car outside Topper's house, the black SUV gleaming under the midday sun. He glanced at his watch for the third time in less than ten minutes, annoyance bubbling beneath the surface. Rafe had dismissed all his meetings in the afternoon and a few in the morning to make sure he'd be there in time so she wouldn't have an excuse to back away from it. He hadn't expected her to take her sweet time, but he should have known better.

Rafe should've known you weren't be civil even if you accepted it. Which, to be honest, still surprised him. He was ready to have the door slammed on his face but it seems not even you could say no to some easy money.

His phone buzzed with a text and for a moment, he thought it was saying you'd be down in five, but it was just Topper reminding him about their gym session tomorrow morning, having no idea what his best friend and sister were plotting behind his back. He sighed, shifting in his seat, the leather creaking under his movements in a way that had his annoyance growing. Why was it taking so long for you to get ready? You weren’t going for some fashion show, just to buy stuff downtown.

"Fucking bitch" Rafe muttered under his breath, hitting the horn a couple of times. He was already regretting all of this. The longer he sat there, the more the idea of bringing you as his fake girlfriend felt like a terrible decision. You'd probably jump at every chance to mess with him like you were doing now.

Just as he was about to give up and head home to, hopefully, contact a few clients, he spotted a car pulling up. He hadn't seen this one around before and by the low price, it surely wasn't your family’s. From the rearview mirror, he saw the loser push his aviators up, leaning in to kiss the girl. Rafe's stomach twisted as Topper's sister slid out, your hair tousled and a satisfied smile playing on your lips. Gross.

The sight of her closing the passenger door sent a jolt of irritation through him, mixed with something he couldn't quite identify. You looked carefree, laughing at something the guy said, and for a moment, Rafe felt like an intruder on a private scene he had no right to witness.

"Seriously?" he muttered under his breath, slamming closed the door of his truck. Were you hooking up while he was waiting in the sun?

You turned around towards the voice, your smile fading when you caught sight of him. His jaw clenched and his gaze sharp.

"Rafe?" you asked, surprise etching your features as you adjusted the strap of your bag, the casual air of confidence slipping slightly. You hadn't noticed his car when the touron parked. "You're early."

If Topper heard about this, you'd be dammed. You had told him you'd be sleeping over a friend.

"Or you're late.” he replied, crossing his arms, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. "What was that all about?"

Your brows furrowed, the glint in your eyes replaced by defensiveness. "I had... plans. Not that it's any of your business."

"Plans? Is that what you call it?" Rafe shot back, frustration bubbling to the surface as he ran a hand through his buzzcut. "You said we'd leave at noon. Did you really think it was okay to keep me waiting while you were off with some random douchebag? I fucking canceled my meetings to be here on time because you wanted to go shopping for shit!''

"As if you care, idiot." you snapped, the challenge in your voice clear. "I'm doing you a favor, remember? You have no right to question me about my plans and he wasn't a douchebag."

"Because I thought you'd have some decency!" he countered, irritation lacing his tone as he struggled to keep his voice down, walking closer to you. He points towards the car was minutes ago. "That asshole didn't even open the door for you when he dropped you off."

"Well, it was better than sit around and wait for you!" you shot back, an eyebrow raised defiantly as you wrapped your hair in a messy bun, feeling too hot from all this arguing in the sun. "It's not like you're the perfect image of being on time."

He shook his head, trying to tamp down the rising anger and something deeper that he always refused to acknowledge. "Let's just go, alright?" he muttered, opening the passenger door for you with an exaggerated sight.

You arched a brow, starring at him while he stood there with the door held open, for you. Whatever. You shook your head, clenching your jaw as you moved to the passenger seat, only to realize a second too late that you needed to change into something… well, better. The door was already slammed closed and Rafe was already on his seat.

Rafe started the engine and pulled out of the driveway. The radio was off and you had your arms crossed over your chest, looking to the window with an almost unnotiaciable pount on your lips. He didn't even give you time to shower and change. How could you go shopping in a t-shirt and jean shorts? Rude. Brute.

"Do you even have a plan for this?" you asked after a few minutes in silence, watching the front of the boutiques.

"Yeah, I figured we'd just wing it" he replied, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. Did Topper know you were hanging around with broken tourons now? If not, he'd make sure to tell him later.

"Wing it? You're kidding, right?" you laughed, but the sound had a sharp edge. A superiority that crawled under his skin. "People love to gossip at these events. If we just act like we're a couple, someone will definitely ask questions."

"Fine." he snapped, annoyance dripping in his voice as he parked the car in front of one of the many expensive stores of the island. "What do you suggest then, Mrs. Director of Fake Dates."

He hopped off the car and you rolled your eyes, grabbing your bag. You muttered a thank you as he opened the door for you, stopping in the sidewalk.

"Where did you say the wedding was again?" you furrowed your brows, not really remembering this piece of information. "Well, anyway. We need a backstory. Something believable. How about we say we've known each other since we were kids? You're my brother best friend. We had a falling out last summer and decided to give it another shot. Cliché. People eat that shit."

"Italy" He shrugged, following you as you decided which store would be first. You stopped in your tracks, looking at him with arched brows.

"Did you just say Italy as if in Europe?" you blinked, taking a deep breath as you nodded at yourself.

“How many fucking Italies do you know?” He snorted as his head turned to look at you, dumbfounded. You forced a smile, showing him the middle finger.

"Don't worry. It's just for one weekend, I told you." He held open the door of the boutique you stopped in front of, pushing you inside by the shoulder. "Let's keep the details of the story short, alright? The less people know, the better.”

“All right, Mr. Boring. Time to find me a dress that won’t embarrass you.”

Rafe followed you inside, mentally preparing himself for the impending chaos. The store was bright and stylish, filled with an array of dresses and heels. You immediately dove into the racks, pulling out pieces in vibrant colors and flowing fabrics, not sparring him a second glance.

Fuck, he could already feel his pockets hurting.

“Help me out here,” you called over your shoulder, an armful of dresses piled high. “You’ve got baby arms but let’s see if they can handle this.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he picked up a few dresses. “I don’t have baby arms,” he retorted, but the smirk on his face betrayed his amusement. Baby arms, really?

“Are you serious right now?” you teased, glancing back at him with a playful challenge in your eyes. “Maybe I should get you my workout plan instead of a dress.”

He shot you a glare, but the corner of his mouth twitched in a reluctant smile before he caught himself. “Just get what you need, and I’ll carry it, but don’t expect me to play your little games.”

You grinned, the mischievous light in your eyes making his heart race. Because you were infuriating. “Oh, but you’re going to play. It’s part of the deal.”

You’d already been through several rounds of dresses - each one met with a casual nod or a half-hearted comment from Rafe as he scrolled on his phone. A sleek black gown had caught his eye for a moment, and the deep red one had nearly made him lose his cool, but he managed to keep his reactions under control. He wasn’t about to give you the satisfaction of knowing just how much he was affected. You already were infuriating enough without him feeding your ego.

But then you stepped out in a blue dress. It wasn’t just any blue dress—it clung to you figure like it was made for you, the fabric flowing and shimmering as you walked. It hugged your figure perfectly, accentuating you curves in a way that made his breath hitch. The neckline dipped just enough to draw the eye, and the slit running from the edge of the dress to the top of you thigh was nothing short of provocative. Rafe felt his heart race, an unfamiliar heat burning in his veins.

He caught himself staring, quickly snapping his gaze back up to your face. Get it together, Cameron. She was annoying, infuriating, and the last person he should be looking at like that. Yet here he was, shifting in his seat, a strange heat building in his chest as you spun around and gave him a look that practically dared him to say something.

“What do you think?” you asked, your voice teasing but soft, as if you already knew the effect the dress was having on him.

He cleared his throat, trying desperately to summon one of his usual sarcastic remarks. “It’s… fine,” he managed, though his voice didn’t carry its usual edge.

You tilted your head, eyes gleaming with amusement as you starred at him through the mirror. “Fine? Just fine?” You pouted and turned around. You stepped closer, and he could feel the air between you grow thicker. “You’re not even looking.”

“I’m looking,” he muttered, his eyes betraying him again by glancing down at your legs before he moved it to his phone. He hated how easy it was for you to get under his skin. Every part of him was screaming to look away, to say something snarky and put you in her place, but for once, he couldn’t find the words. You looked too good. He hated it.

“No witty comeback? Wow, I’m impressed,” you teased, taking another step forward, the fabric of the dress shifting with your movement in a way that only drew his attention more.

He swallowed hard, doing his best to remember why you annoyed him so much. You’re frustrating. You’re a pain. He forced himself to think of every little thing you’d ever done to irritate him, but the sight of you in that dress made it nearly impossible.

“At least you’re as hot as you are annoying,” he finally muttered under his breath, shaking his head in a vain attempt to hide the fact that his pulse was racing.

You raised an eyebrow, clearly delighted with his response. A surprise chuckle escaped your lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Rafe huffed, trying to regain some composure. “Don’t get used to it,” he said, though the slight crack in his voice betrayed him.

“Too much for your business crowd?” you asked, spinning around in front of the mirror, your tone laced with amusement.

“Nah, you’ll fit right in,” he said, though his mind was screaming the opposite. Too much. Way too much. Too much for his own sake.

As you turned back to the mirror, adjusting the slit in the dress, Rafe allowed himself one more glance, feeling a mix of frustration and something else bubble up inside him. He preferred you when you were just annoying.

“I’m not carrying you out when those heels become too much,” he tossed out, trying to steer the conversation back into a safer territory.

You laughed, not missing a beat. “Don’t worry, I can handle myself. But it’s nice to know you’re concerned.”

“Concerned?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “More like I just don’t want you slowing me down.”

But as you disappeared back into the fitting room, he leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair in frustration. You were supposed to be his best friend’s little infuriating sister helping him with this. Yet with every passing second, it felt like you were becoming something else entirely. He couldn’t shake the way his gaze lingered on you, how he was beginning to dread the moment you’d step out of his line of sight. When did you turn human and stopped being a complete bitch?

Maybe it’s just been too long since Rafe got laid. Yeah, that was right. Between throwing his dad’s ashes and building a name for himself in the business world, Rafe barely had time to find some release. He’d fix it tonight.

Rafe was already at the counter, signing off on the receipt for all the dresses you’d tried on and decided that would be used in the weekend. His jaw clenched as he tried to ignore the numbers.

“Well, that was fun,” you quipped, an exaggerated smile as you leaned next to him, telling the lady that he’d be carrying all the bags.

Rafe shot you a look, muttering, “Fun? For you, maybe.”

“Come on, Rafe,” you teased, “one of the conditions for me agreeing to this whole thing was that you pay for everything.”

He scoffed, sliding his black card back into his wallet. “Yeah, trust me, I’m well aware. Still doesn’t make it any less painful.”

“Don’t be such a baby. We’re practically made of money,” you said, glancing at the bags filled with dresses for the wedding weekend. “Besides, you should be thanking me. You’re the one getting something out of this.”

“Yeah, I’m getting a headache.”

You rolled her eyes, nudging him playfully - a bit too hard. “You’re so dramatic.”

He offered you the fakest smile you’ve ever seen before shoving half of the bags to you.

As you stepped out into the street, Rafe hesitated. Against his better judgment, he found himself saying, “You hungry?”

You blinked, clearly surprised. “Why, Rafe Cameron, are you actually offering to buy me food after spending all that cash on dresses?”

“Don’t push it,” he grumbled, starting to walk toward a small café nearby. “But since we’re supposed to be convincing everyone at this wedding, we might as well figure out the rules over lunch.”

You followed, a surprised smirk playing on your lips. “Rules? You mean besides the one where you’re my personal ATM for the weekend?”

“Yeah, that one too,” he said dryly as they found a table outside the café, placing the bags down not so gently.

You sat down, menus in hand, and for a brief moment, they both seemed content to sit in silence. Until you broke it.

“Okay, so first rule,” you glanced up from the menu. “No kissing.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “Why would think I’d kiss you? I’m not desperate”

“We can hold hands, lean in, whatever. But no actual kissing,” you insisted, tone firm. “This is strictly business.”

“We can hold hands, lean in, whatever. But no actual kissing,” she insisted, her tone firm. “This is strictly business.”

“Strictly business, huh?” He smirked, shaking his head. “You say that, but you’ll be the one swooning if we get too close.”

You let out a laugh, clearly unimpressed. “Please, Cameron, if you were half as charming as you think you are, you wouldn’t need a fake girlfriend in the first place.”

“Oh, I’m charming enough. You’re just stubborn and blind.” He leaned in a little, lowering his voice. “Admit it - you’re at least a little curious what it’d be like.”

Your smile faltered just for a second before it was replaced with a disgusted face, “Curious? About you? Only to see how much more annoying you can get.”

Rafe’s gaze flickered down to your legs as you shifted in the seat, his jaw tightening as he caught himself. Annoying. Infuriating. But damn if you’re not hot, he thought, biting back a comment. His expression hardened, trying to snap himself out of it. He really needed to get laid, quickly.

You crossed your arms, leaning forward a little. “Second rule: no jealous boyfriend act. I don’t need you scaring off guys at the wedding.”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Why would I be jealous? Get over yourself.”

“Yeah, okay,” you leaned back in your chair. “Just remember, this isn’t real. No need for the possessive act.”

“I got it. Fake dating. No jealousy,” he repeated, the sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“And no trying to use this as an excuse to annoy me,” you added with a pointed look. “Topper won’t be knowing about this. Ever.”

Rafe barked out a laugh. “Annoy you? That’s practically the only fun part of this arrangement.”

“Right, because you’re soooo fun to be around,” you shot back, rolling your eyes dramatically.

“Look, just follow my lead, alright? I’ll make sure we don’t look like complete idiots in front of my business associates,” he said, picking up his menu.

“I’m not the one who looks like an idiot,” you muttered under your breath, pretending to read the menu.

He snorted, clearly hearing you, but chose not to respond. The air was filled with silence again as they waited for the waiter.

Finally, you set your menu down and locked eyes with him. “Okay, but one more thing.”

“What now?” he asked, exasperated.

“No flirting with other girls while we’re there. I’m not covering for you if you get caught in some hotel scandal.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, half amused and half annoyed. “Please. I should’ve known you were the jealous type.”

“Oh, sure,” your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just stick to the plan, Rafe. We get in, play our parts, and get out without embarrassing ourselves. You can handle that, right?”

Rafe leaned in slightly, his smirk still in place. “I don’t know, princess. You seem pretty good at embarrassing yourself. Might be contagious.”

You glared at him but couldn’t hold back a small smile. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re still here, so what does that say about you?”

You opened you mouth to respond, ready say that it made you the kindest person in the world, but the waiter returned just in time to take your orders. As you waited for the waitress to come back with your order, you pulled your phone to scroll, had seen enough of Rafe’s face for the afternoon.

You tried to think of the best way to survive this fake dating arrangement with as little emotional damage as possible for one weekend. Maybe you’d end up killing each other first.

“Can you…” you took a deep breath, nibbling on your bottom lip while you looked around before meeting his gaze. “Not tell Topper about what you’ve seen earlier?”

“The douchebag?” Rafe arched a brow, his jaw tensing as he remembered the encounter, your hair tousled.

“He isn’t a douchebag but yeah, that.” you let out a long sigh, sipping on your juice.

“I’ll think about it. Let’s see how you will do during the wedding, huh.” He offered you one of these smug smirks that made you want to punch his face. Of course he wouldn’t make things easy for you.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ TAGLIST: @megiiite @melsunshine @maybankslover @wearemadeofstardust0 @lilithblackkk

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron outer banks

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nightsandrewrites · 9 days ago

Text

Illyrian Males Pt. 2

Pairing: Cazriel x Reader

Summary: You navigate a new mating bond, while Cassian and Azriel reveal things they've been keeping from you...

Word count: 8.9k

Warnings: Smut, BDSM, depression, self sacrifice, use of Y/N

a/n: I had a block on this for the longest time, unsure where I would take a part two but it finally fell into place. This is darker than the first part, buckle up friends.

Part 1

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The paperwork pulls in and out of focus in front of you. You rub the palms of your hands into your eyes and let them drop to the table with a sigh. It’s no good, you’ve been sitting here for far too long and nothing is getting done. You shove the papers away and pull one of the library's heavy books towards you.

“Y/N I’ve been looking for you.” Rhysand appears from the shadows of the bookshelves. “Well, you found me.” You smile up from the dusty tome. “Tell me that you’ve come for something far more interesting than this.” You gesture to the work spread out before you.

“I think so.” He smirks and takes a seat opposite you. “I’ve just received word that most of the female Illyrians in Windhaven have agreed to start training.” “What!” You shout and then shrink back as you recall the quiet sanctuary of the library around you. “What do you mean? Who convinced them?” “You did.” He reaches forward and starts flipping idly through one of the books on the table “Apparently the group you were headed to see in the cottage the other week witnessed that trainee lunge at you and then watched you take him down. Seeing your quick reaction and ability to defend yourself convinced them.” He straightens a little then and starts glancing around your small study space between the shelves. “That’s amazing, I’ll start working with Cassian on a training plan.” You start searching for a pen so you can jot down some ideas. “Hopefully when their training begins news will start spreading to the other camps and we can get those females involved as well.” “Speaking of Cassian.” Rhysand leans forward onto his forearm “Why do you smell like my General?” He grins wickedly at you. “And my Spymaster for that matter.” You can feel the blood rush to your cheeks. “Well, I-, actually what I-” you were sure the blush now tinged your neck and the tips of your ears. “Relax” Rhysand leans back in his chair “It’s none of my business.” He begins picking invisible lint from his shoulder and you smile softly at his little ways of making you more comfortable. You take a deep breath. “Actually you should know.” You exhale to steady yourself. “I was hoping that Cass and Az would be here when you found out, but I’d rather not leave you to jump to your own conclusions.” You glance up to find his eyebrows raised in a ‘who me?’ fashion. “I know that they are mates and, well, I am also their mate.” You bite your lip waiting for his response. His eyes widen in surprise for all of three seconds and then he leans forward on clasped hands. “A triad bond huh.” He reaches a hand into the air, materialises a book from nowhere and begins flicking. “Extremely rare, I’ve actually never met someone in a triad before. I wonder if there are any additional benefits or detriments when compared to a regular bond.” he begins rambling “Of course I’ll mask your scent” Without looking up he clicks his fingers and you feel a ripple of his power wash over you. “You three will make an excellent case study, of course if you’re willing to answer some questions, nothing too personal obviously.” “Wait, you can mask my scent?” You ask. “Of course, who do you think has masked the scent of those two all over each other for centuries? You’ll be able to scent each other but it keeps it covered for others. It’s a tiny piece of my magic, a good way to keep burning it off really.” He replies without looking up from his new research.

“We decided to keep the bond a secret for now, if you’ve been doing it for them why wouldn’t they get you to do it for me right away?” You try to control the level of your voice. Rhysand looks up at you with a levelled stare.

“Y/N, they may be two of the greatest warriors to ever grace the Illyrian legions but they’re still males.” You cock your head to the side trying to understand. “They’re being territorial. They want you to smell like them. Even though it’s stupid and risks the bond being exposed.”

“Oh.” You sit back and feel the blush that just started to fade reappear across your cheeks.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------

You walk into your room and find Cassian waiting in the armchair you keep in the corner.

“Finally, I thought I would have to come pull you from the library myself.” He jumps up and scoops you into his arms as your feet leave the ground.

“I got caught up with Rhysand.” You explain as you dip your head down and place a soft kiss to his lips. A flurry of jealousy washes down the bond.

“Really? Rhys?” You raise your eyebrows at him as he sets you back on your feet.

“Sorry.” He chuckles. “Mating bond is still chaffing a little bit.” He runs a hand through his dishevelled hair as he ducks his head.

“Well he knows now, about us I mean.” You gesture awkwardly between the two of you.

“You told him?” He smirks mischievously.

“I didn’t have to, he was curious to know why I smelt like you and your mate” You smack him lightly on the shoulder as you push past and dump your bag at your desk. “Why didn’t you tell me about the scent masking?”

“Honestly it slipped my mind.” He shrugs. “It’s not like we’ve really left the house so the secret's still safe.”

He crosses the room towards you until you're forced to lean back into the desk to look up at him.

“Also is it so bad that you smell of me and our mate?” He dips down and begins to brush his lips along your neck.

Right. Our mate. The one who’s become increasingly distant. Who trains longer and stays in his study later into the night. The one who let Cassian take over your blade training after one small disagreement.

You drop your head to Cassian’s chest and let a small sigh escape your lips. He lifts your face with gentle fingers under your chin.

“This is about Azriel?” His dark eyes flick between yours.

“What if he’s disappointed Cass? What if he regrets accepting the bond?” You can feel the tears forming in the back of your throat.

“Trust me baby. He doesn’t regret it. He’s just…” His gaze falls to the middle distance above your head, searching for the right words.

“Pushing me away?” It had only been a few weeks and whilst things between you and Cassian had never been better the opposite was true for Azriel. Of course the three of you had fallen into bed together numerous times since the bond clicked. But you couldn’t help but feel like he was only going along with it all for Cassian’s sake.

“Listen, Az and I have been mates for a long time.” He brushes his fingers along your cheek. “We found a way of… managing our relationship. He’s just still trying to figure out how you fit into that.”

“He gave up my training. He no longer visits the library in the afternoons. He stopped consulting me on intel.” You pout not convinced by his words.

“Let me show you something. Do you trust me?” A wicked grin appears on his face.

“Of course.” You straighten, intrigued by the mischievous glint in his eye.

“I need you to block out your bond to Azriel. Just like you’ve been practising.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Cassian trails his fingers down your bare ribs, your fingers curl into the sheets beneath you as you focus on keeping the shield in your mind in place.

“Good girl, now if you need me to stop at any point I want you to use the safe word.” He murmurs into your skin as he leaves soft kisses along your hip.

“Safe word?” You squirm a little, eager to have him pay attention to the ache between your legs.

He smirks up at you and though you’ve been bare before him so many times now it still sends a flush across your skin. “A safe word is for whe-”

“I know what a safe word is Cass!” You smack his shoulder for the second time today. “What’s the safe word?”

“Stardust.” He murmurs and then immediately licks a stripe up your core, flicking your clit with his tongue. You throw your head back against the pillow and let out a soft moan.

You’d had lovers before but had never quite found you enjoyed receiving oral the way you did with your thighs wrapped around the head of one of your mates. Their tongues devoured you in ways you’d never experienced before, soft where you needed, hard where it counted and always so warm.

Cassian quickly works you to the edge and you swear small white spots begin to swim behind your closed lids. You feel your core begin to tighten as Cassian quickly pulls away.

You let out a small whine and glare up at him as he holds himself over you, grinning like an idiot.

“Still have that wall in place sweetheart?” He cocks his head to the side. You quickly check the shield between you and Azriel is still in place.

“Yes, but why did you stop?” You pout.

“Good things come to those who wait.” He chuckles, leaning down, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth. He kisses you softly, slowly, savouring the moment and you can taste yourself on his lips. Soon his fingers find your sensitive clit and your hips unintentionally grind up to meet his movements. Your hands grab at thick biceps covered in Illyrian swirls, giving you purchase for more movement. You pant in soft moans as Cassian kisses down your chest, reaching a nipple and sucking it into his mouth. He quickly works you to the edge again.

“Oh god, please” You whine at his assault.

He leaves one nipple to nip at the tight bud of the other and just when you feel like you could shatter he pulls his hand away. “Cass” Your voice a soft whimper at your lost pleasure.

“Do you need me to stop baby girl?” His voice is a soft gravel, almost daring you to ask him to stop.

“No, I need you to not stop.” You give him a small shove and he tumbles to the side pulling you on top of him as he spins.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m giving you exactly what you need.” His eyes sparkle with mischief but you don’t have time to question it as he guides your hips down onto his length. Your head tips back gently with a moan as you adjust to the stretch of him.

It could be centuries and you’d never get used to the feeling of him entering you. His thick length slides into you, filling you completely. You begin to rise on your knees, aching for the friction of him inside you.

“Mmmm, ride me baby, I’m all yours.” Cassian pants beneath you, his eyes screwed shut savouring the feel of you wrapped around him.

You plant your hands on his chest, bouncing up and down as his hips roll to meet yours. Already worked to the edge twice, you can feel the coil tightening inside of you. A series of small whimpers escape your lips as Cassian palms at your hips and your chest. You can feel his head drag across your soft walls, building pressure exactly where you need it. Suddenly Cassian is coming with a groan. His fingers digging tightly into your hips as you feel him pulse inside you. You bite your lip unsure what to do. You're glad you could bring your mate pleasure but he’d never finished before you, Hel these males usually made you come undone twice before they were finished with you.

“Relax baby girl.” Cassian reaches up and releases your bottom lip with a gentle swipe of his thumb. “I said I’d get you what you needed and I meant it.”

He reaches across the bed to his discarded shirt and begins pulling it over your head.

“Keep that shield in place and go find our mate.” He gives you a wink before helping you off the bed with a small smack to your ass.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------

You pad down the hall towards Azriel’s office. The soft glow of the rising moon outside reminding you that you were still yet to eat. And you were hungry, famished, but for something that no food could satiate. Your shadow slides along the wall catching your eye and you wonder what kind of picture you paint right now. Bed tangled hair, Cassian’s oversized shirt falling off one shoulder and his cum slowly sliding down your inner thigh.

You reach Azriel’s door, hold your breath a little and push it open without knocking. He’s bent over his paperwork, hair tousled slightly from running his hands through it, wings slouching a little behind him. At first he doesn’t look up from his work.

“I’ll be just a few more minut-” You see the moment your mingled scents reach him. His whole body stiffens, his head snaps up to take you in, his pupils blow wide like a predator that’s just spotted its favourite prey and the pen in his hand snaps in half.

He moves faster than you've ever seen and has you pinned to the wall in a second.

Azriel leans forward and whispers across your neck “I was wondering what you two were up to when the bonds cut off.”

You can’t even form words as Azriel consumes every sense. His warm body pressed against yours, his right leg nestled against your core. His scent sends your brain into overdrive and all you can manage is a small whimper as you roll your hips against his thigh.

“I can smell his seed on you sweetheart, did he not satisfy you enough?” His voice is deep and rumbling. His wings are flared out behind him blocking you from the empty room as his shadows make agitated swirls along his wings.

“Please Az, he didn’t let me.” You grab the front of his leathers pulling yourself closer to him as your hips continue to find friction on his thigh.

Azriel freezes. He becomes so still you wonder if he’s even breathing. You pull back and find that his eyes are almost completely black, his shadows have slowed to a crawl behind him, like a snake coiled for attack. A shiver runs down your spine as you realise you're staring into the stone cold eyes of the Night Courts Spymaster. You silently berate yourself for wanting him more for it.

He pushes off the wall and you instantly miss the feel of him against you but he slides his fingers around your wrist as he pulls you from the room.

“I’m going to fucking kill him, I swear.” He snarls as he leads you back down the hall to your room.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------

Just as Azriel turns to enter the bedroom one of his shadows snaps out and wraps itself around Cassian's neck.

“You wanted my attention?” Azriel curls his free hand into a fist and the shadow tightens around his airway. Cassian sits up in the bed and attempts to pull the shadow away, struggling for air.

“Now you have it.” Azriel snarls, dropping your wrist and striding towards the bed.

“Az don’t hurt him!” You cry out and try to tug Azriel backwards.

The shadow loosens but remains looped around Cassian's neck. He pulls in gasping breaths that match Azriel's heaving chest as he towers over the end of the bed.

I’m okay baby girl, he’s not going to hurt me. Cassian’s gruff voice enters your mind.

Y/N you should go clean up while I deal with him. With the bond now open Azriel’s cool tone slides into your mind as well.

But- You begin a little unsure but you’re quickly interrupted.

She knows the safe word, she doesn’t have to go anywhere. Cassian sits up straighter glaring at Azriel in challenge.

More of Azriel’s shadows begin to crawl along the bed.

Why does she know the safe word? Azriel seethes.

You stand frozen watching the back and forth between them.

Well I wasn’t going to edge her without the safe word was I? Cassian cocks his head to the side and you swear you see a vein pop in Azriel’s neck.

Azriel spins and you duck a little to avoid his outstretched wings.

“How many times?” His dark eyes now fall to you.

Cassian replies before you can “It was onl-”

The shadow around Cassian’s neck slides onto his face, gagging him. Other shadows pounce from the mattress and swirl around his wrists pinning him down.

“I swear to the Cauldron if you fucking speak again.” Azriel growls over his shoulder. He stands before you, the picture of death. Dark wings splayed across the room, hands balled into fists, muscles strung tight. And you're surprised to find your voice does not waiver as you reply.

“Three times.”

“Y/N it’s up to you if you want to stay or go.” He nods sharply and turns back to face Cassian, giving you the opportunity to slip out of the room without a fuss if needed. Instead you slip past him, climb onto the bed above Cassian’s head and rest against the headboard. Both their eyes trail your movements before Azriel’s land on Cassian again.

“So you think you can take pleasure from my mate and leave her unsatisfied?” Azriel begins loosening the top of his leathers as he paces around the bed. He reaches for the sheet that is still covering Cassian’s bottom half and whips it away.

“Figures you’d be hard again, you always were a fucking whore. Maybe you’ve lost your touch? Couldn’t keep it up long enough for Y/N to get off?” He breathes a sinister chuckle.

A low growl ripples through Cassian’s chest, still gagged and bound by shadows, at the insinuation.

“Would you like to help me teach him a lesson love?” Azriel questions you as he removes the top half of his leathers and undershirt sending muscles rippling.

Your mouth is watering at the sight of him and it’s all you can do to nod dumbly as you reply “Yes please.”

Azriel’s eyes spark in surprise and then the mattress dips beside you as he leans towards you.

“Show me how he used you sweetheart.” His fingers brush gently down the length of your jaw.

You send the images flickering down the bond – of Cassian’s mouth on you, his hands bringing you to the edge and finally of you riding atop him.

Azriel’s eyes are completely black as they flick between yours. Wordlessly he reaches for you and pulls you into his arms. Cut him off baby girl. His deep voice curls in the back of your mind as his soft lips brush against yours. You do as he says, lifting a shield between your mind and Cassian’s.

Cassian’s throat rips open in snarls from where he lays on the bed with the two of you kneeling before him. Your eyes flick across to him, your heart constricting at his distress and you immediately want to reach out to him.

He’s okay. Azriel’s fingers find their way under your chin turning your attention back to him. He’s just swearing at me profusely for cutting him off. First I want to take care of you. He begins to trail kisses down your neck. Then we can deal with him.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------

Cassian watches from the top of the bed as Azriel positions you on all fours. You’re faced towards him, cheeks flushed and pupils blown wide. Cauldron he wishes he wasn’t bound right now.

Give her back. Cassian growls down the bond at Azriel. Furious he’s been shut out from your mind, from your emotions, with you so close.

You can have her back when I think you deserve it. Azriel snarls as he slides into you from behind. Cassian watches your breath catch, feels you clench at the sheets beneath them and he’s slowly going mad. He struggles against the shadows that pin his wrists to the bed and attempts to shift the shadows that bind his mouth. He’s never been so close to safe wording before. Your proximity but infinite distance pulls and frays at every instinct he has.

Azriel has set a hard and fast pace, bringing you to the edge that Cassian refused to tip you over. And as you come undone with panting whimpers, Cassian bucks his hips into the air with a muffled groan, failing to find the friction his leaking cock is begging for.

Azriel slides out of you, cock still hard and glistening from your release. That’s how you pleasure my mate Cassian. Azriel’s growl filters through the bond.

Fuck you, she’s mine too. Cassian bites back, the only way he can right now.

Oh no, I think I’ll fuck you. He smirks darkly. Eventually.

Azriel gives you a small nod and you crawl forward towards Cassian, and Hel if he was standing he would have gone to his knees at the sight.

Your plush lips wrap around his head and he throws his head back against the pillow, a groan escapes between clenched teeth. Fuck this might be all he needs to survive, forget food and water he’ll live off your touch alone if he needs to.

Your head bobs up and down his length and he can feel the pleasure building. Can feel his muscles tightening, ready to pump his release down his pretty mates throat.

Suddenly Azriel has his hand wrapped in the hair at the nape of your neck pulling you off him with a small pop.

“Good girl, that’s enough.” Azriel purrs into your ear before capturing your mouth with his, sliding his tongue along your lower lip.

Cassian’s chest rises and falls in deep pants. Release me now Azriel or I swear to the Cauldron I’l-

You’ll what? Azriel cocks his head to the side. You’re not really in any position to be making demands.

Azriel releases you then to lie back on the bed. He looms over Cassian, face hovering only inches away, wings flared wide behind him almost blacking out the room. You have a pretty face General, but I want to hear those pretty noises to match. He punctuates his remark by sliding two long fingers inside Cassian.

Cassian’s skin already feels like it’s on fire and Azriel’s assault on that spot inside him might just cause him to combust. He simultaneously wants to throw Azriel through the nearest wall and kiss his stupidly handsome face. Azriel hadn’t let himself take control like this since they had accepted the mating bond with Y/N and Cassian had finally found the right buttons to press - Y/N’s. Now he was both reaping the benefits and paying the price for it.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

You lay beside your mates as you take in Azriel at work. The bulge of his arms, the scars that litter his torso criss-cross with Illyrian swirls, the half smirk that graces his lips as he pulls whimpers from Cassian.

Azriel’s eyes are still clouded in darkness, wholly focused on the task at hand which now appears to be Cassian’s punishment.

Long fingers slide in and out of Cassian, stretching him open with every pass. You want to reach out to him, to open the bond and allow your emotions to mingle with his but you don’t want to go against Azriel’s command. This was the control that Cassian had alluded to. The side of Azriel they had kept away from you. The night you found out about the mating bond comes back to you...

‘ You don’t scare me, Shadowsinger. You let admiration flow through the bond along with your words. In a blink of an eye Azriel is crowded over you, arms braced on the sides of your chair.

Really? He smirks down at you in challenge ‘

Should you be afraid right now? Azriel hovers over Cassian propped on an elbow. One hand thrusting inside him the other pulling at the hair from the top of his scalp. He’s grinning down at Cassian’s muffled cries like he might just sink his teeth into his flesh to make him cry out more. His wings a flare out dimming the room and the shadows that hold Cassian down are joined by others that swirl along the bed, slide over muscled bodies, until they appear to be drowning in darkness.

But Cassian doesn’t fight for the surface, his head is thrown back as moans of pleasure reverberate through his chest like he’d willingly give his last breath for Azriel to keep going. Suddenly you watch Cassian stiffen, his eyes shooting open as Azriel stills. You’re sure more violent words are exchanged between them as Azriel once again denies Cassian of his release.

Your skin tingles at the sight and without an ounce of fear, you realise that maybe you want to drown in the darkness too.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------

Cassian’s eyes flick to you as you move across the bed but you keep your gaze locked to Azriel. You slide a hand across his shoulder and he rises at your gentle command, settling onto his knees. Your focus never wavers as you settle yourself across Cassian’s waist towards the shadowsinger. His grin is gone and he watches your every movement carefully. You let your eyes wander down his toned chest, watch his abs flex under your gaze before landing on his thick length. Azriel’s hard cock brushes his stomach, the thick vein running along the underside revealed to you. His cock hovers only inches from Cassian’s which is flushed red as you watch a bead of precum swell at the tip. With them both straining before you, you can’t help but imagine what it would be like to take them both at the same time. To have them filling you, stretching you -

Oh sweetheart, say the word and your wish is my command. Azriel purrs. Your eyes flick to meet black ones as you lift yourself from your perch on Cassian’s chiselled torso, giving him the perfect view of your ass, before sinking down on his length. His hips make a feeble attempt to meet yours but Azriel is upon you, strong calloused hands gripping your hips and holding you down.

Azriel’s mouth captures yours, nipping and sucking at your bottom lip. His rough hands explore your body, sliding over soft skin and cupping your breasts. You let out a small whimper at the all consuming sensation of one mate stretching you open while the other runs expert hands along every nerve. Azriel pulls back, a short growl rolling from his chest.

“What’s wrong?” You pant softly. “He won’t keep quiet.” His eyes flick over your shoulder momentarily at Cassian. The lord of bloodshed was never one to go quietly, so you can only imagine what he’s throwing down the bond at Azriel right now. Azriel takes up your hands in his and places them on his shoulders. He leans forward, lips brushing your neck and murmurs “Hold on sweetheart.” Your fingers flex into thick muscle as he leans into you.

“You want more General?” He snarls over you before lifting Cassian’s hips slightly. The movement forces him even deeper inside you and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips. Without warning Azriel slams into him. Cassian lets out a muffled cry that you hope is more pleasure than pain.

“Is that enough for you?” Azriel chuckles darkly. Azriel’s large hands envelop your waist once more as he guides you up and down on Cassian in time with his own thrusts. You let yourself go, let Azriel use your body to pleasure Cassian as all you can focus on is your own. When you find yourself on the edge again Azriel’s gentle purr is there.

Drop your shield, let him feel all of you Y/N.

You do as he says, dropping your mental shield and finally opening the bond to Cassian again. A flood of emotion washes over you, of relief, anger, envy, happiness all swirling together but the prevailing sense of lust is all consuming.

Cassian’s emotions tangling with your own is overwhelming and that coil building inside of you snaps. You fall willingly into the dark abyss of your release. Seeing you reach your climax has both of your mates falling after you and soon the only sound in the room is the mix of panting breaths.

Azriel recalls his shadows and immediately Cassian claims you. He grabs your sides and twists you towards him, lips laying kisses to any piece of skin in his reach.

Y/N? Cassian’s low timbre reverberates in your mind, soft and timid.

I’m here Cass. You run your fingers through his soft hair, doing your best to calm him. Are you okay?

Never better sweetheart. His fingers trace circles on your back. Just need you here. Need you close.

Having the bond cut off had obviously taken a toll on him, like a carrot on a stick Azriel had dangled you in front of him the entire time.

You are far tastier than a carrot my love. I just need a few minutes to recentre. Also I’m afraid if I let you go I’ll make good on some of the nastier promises I made Az. His broad chest bounces beneath you with his chuckle.

Yes you were starting to get rather creative towards the end there. Azriel chuckles along with him. I’ll get you both some water.

Azriel’s weight lifts from the bed as you lean down and kiss Cassian softly.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

So, this is what you’ve both been keeping from me? You slowly trace the Illyrian tattoos along Cassian’s chest with your fingertips. He ponders the ceiling for a moment before responding.

When we first met Azriel at the Illyrian camps, he was untrained, never learnt to fly and had a darkness that trailed after him. His mouth quirks with a smile, obviously remembering the time fondly. However your bottom lip juts out in a pout, recalling why it was so in the first place.

After bein- Cassian paused for a moment After the childhood he had, having never known a sense of control, his untamed power would just take over. He ended up in twelve fights in his first week at camp.

Cassian leaned down, absentmindedly brushing his lips to the top of your head.

Shortly after the mating bond snapped we discovered a way for him to manage. An outlet that gave him full control when he felt himself slipping into the darkness. Everyone thought his new friendship and proximity to the future High Lord was the cause of the change. That he was now able to maintain focus, control and wield his power better than ever. Only Rhys and I knew the truth.

It was very generous of you, to become that for him. You smile softly.

Cassian breaks out into a deep laugh, the vibrations tingling your skin.

Oh no, it wasn’t generosity at all. He grins widely. My horny ass got me caught out after Az got in a fight with Rhys one night. His eyes went dark, shadows flying, solid muscle straining in flight leathers. He looked as if death came to walk the earth and I got fucking hard. He laughs again at himself. Az scented it and jumped me, Rhys couldn’t winnow away fast enough. I guess you could say the darkness called to me.

I think I know the feeling. You giggled to yourself. Cassian raised a hand to your chin, pulling your eyes to his dazzling grin still wide.

And that is why we are made for each other my love. He pulls you in for another lingering kiss.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------

Azriel softly pads back to the bedroom with two glasses in hand. He’d stopped at his room to throw on soft pants and a light shirt even though he didn’t want to be away from either of you for a second. It felt strange not being the one comforting Cassian right now but he knew that Y/N was what he needed. Especially after he had made her withhold the bond. Azriel pulls his bottom lip between sharp teeth. He has to admit that was dark, even for him. But Cassian never truly wavered and that scared him a little. One day he was going to do something that caused Cassian to truly snap and there would be no going back.

Azriel reaches your bedroom door and takes in the sight of his mates tangled together. Y/N half sprawled over Cassian, hair fanned across his chest. Cassian’s hand resting possessively on your hip, holding you to him even as you rested in a state between sleep and awake. He doesn’t know how long he stands there taking them in. Gods they look like they were made for eachother. Like they were poured from the Cauldron in the same moment and have only now found their way back to each other. Both so beautiful, strong and filled with light.

He catches one of his shadows sliding along the bed to you both and his heart freezes. In your combined blooms of light his shadow is the thorny vine. The weed that is pruned as to not cause destruction and decay to the beauty.

Azriel stumbles back towards the hall. How did he not see it? For so long he thought the Cauldron had made a mistake in giving him Cassian. And of course he never deserved a second mate, especially not one as brilliant as Y/N. And now here was the proof.

Perhaps he was a placeholder until you and Cassian could meet? Perhaps he was a mistake altogether? Whatever the reason, he saw it clearly now. He didn’t belong between you, he was a burden to be shouldered and you both deserved so much more. You deserved each other. He slipped from the room completely.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s the suffocating warmth that has you rolling away from Cassian. You’re sure he runs ten degrees hotter than any normal being. You slide your fingers along the sheets searching for the cool touch of your shadowsinger, only to come up empty. You sit up scanning the dark room but don’t find a single shadow out of place.

Azriel never returned with the waters he promised and there are no glasses on the bedside table to suggest he returned at all. Cassian mumbles into the pillow beside you as you pull his discarded shirt over your head for the second time tonight. You swing your legs off the bed and pad down the hall.

You approach the dim light of the kitchen to find a note pinned beneath a blade on the kitchen counter. Panic begins to set in, your heart pounding in your chest. You hear a commotion down the hall and pray to the Cauldron that it’s Azriel who will appear to quiet the noise pulsing in your head.

But it’s Cassian who stumbles into the kitchen next to you. Sensing your distress he’d obviously lept from the bed only pausing long enough to collect his underwear and a blade.

“What’s wrong?” He pants eyes darting around the room, assessing for a threat. You nod towards the note on the counter not trusting your voice.

He approaches it cautiously, as if it could jump from the surface and attack at any moment. He pushes the blade aside, picks up the note and reads it in the time it takes for you to figure out how to breathe again.

You watch as Cassian’s wings fall. The tips dragging on the ground. He reads the note again as if that will change anything about its contents.

His hand falls and he steps towards you, handing you the note.

“He’s gone.” His low voice rumbles.

My love,

Forgive me. I hope this letter remains in one piece long enough for you to read but I can understand if you do not grant me such a privilege. I never thought I would need to say goodbye to you, as you are my home. But I can not jeopardise your safety, Y/N’s safety, any longer.After centuries my darkness still remains unpredictable and for so long you have been its balm. Somehow you have kept the shadows inside me at bay.

But now my darkness threatens your new light. Y/N is everything you have always deserved. She is warmth, calm, serenity and whilst I wish beyond anything to bask in that light along with you I cannot take that risk.

I know I do not have the right to ask anything of you now but I beg of you to take care of her. Be her protector where I cannot, be the strength she needs and the mate I cannot be. Until my last breath I will be yours.

Always. Azriel.

“He’s gone.” You manage to choke out.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------

Azriel scratches another line into the rough rock wall. Three months. It’s been three months since he left and he’s not sure how he’s still breathing.

Originally he planned to flee the Night Court entirely, settle far away perhaps on the continent. But he couldn’t bring himself to even cross the border.

He could stay close, he told himself. He could embody the shadows that are loyal to him, become a part of the darkness. From this small cave in the mountainside he could watch over Velaris, monitor for danger. Maybe one day he’d even have the strength to return to the city, moving between the shadows only to catch a glimpse of his mates on an errand.

He could see it now, Cassian trailing after Y/N complaining about carrying all of the gifts you’d buy for Starfall. You’d give some witty reply and then stand on tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek.

Starfall. It was tonight. Azriel’s eyes traced the sky as if he’d already catch a glimpse of those dazzling lights in the waning evening light. He’d never been apart from Cassian on this night, he’d never even had the chance to properly spend it with Y/N. But you had each other and you would be safe from him.

He rubs at his chest. His heart straining behind his ribs, as if it feels betrayed by him, as if it will leave him here in this cave and return to his mates alone. Azriel takes a steadying breath and steps back into the darkness of the cave. He wouldn’t go back. They were better without him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

You stood on the balcony of the eerily quiet House of Wind. On Starfall your home was usually a buzz of activity but this year Rhysand had moved the festivities to his river house to give you some peace and quiet.

But the quiet was suffocating as you stood alone. One mate was missing and the other…

Cassian had become a shadow of himself. After Azriel left he trained less, took on less missions from Rhys and eventually stopped leaving his room.

Every morning you bought him food, every evening you curled up with him and told him of your day but you could feel him slipping from you.

His once dark black wings had begun to fade to an ashy grey. On the days he dressed his sirens remained dull and lifeless. You were lost on what more you could do. You were losing him.

Tears roll down your cheeks and reflect the first tumbling lights of Starfall. An all encompassing sadness washes over you, your lungs becoming tight and it slowly becomes harder to breathe. It was as if your emotions were too much for one person to hold.

Your breath catches in your throat. It couldn’t be?

Azriel? You reach out.

After months of Azriel having the bond shutdown you didn’t realise when he’d crept back in. You try to reach for more but you feel his presence sliding away.

No. He had to stay. You couldn’t keep going on like this. You throw down the bond the one thing that might get him to stay.

I think Cassian is dying. You let out a sob. Azriel he’s fading and I don’t know what to do.

One moment you're watching the stars fall from the sky, the next they’re blacked out by a pair of wings high above you. The Illyrian drops sharply from the sky and lands heavily next to you, vibrations sent rumbling through the stone.

“Az?” You whisper.

Azriel straightens from his landing. He looks disheveled, hair askew, dark circles permanently embedded under even darker eyes.

“I know I don’t deserve-“ he doesn’t look at you as he speaks. “What’s wrong with him? Was he poisoned? Injured?” He stares out over the balcony and you can see his jaw clench.

“You left.” You growl out.

“That’s not important right no-“ He snarls

“No! You. Left. Azriel. That’s what’s wrong with him.” You throw the images down the bond. Cassian slumped in his chair. Of his fading complexion. Wings barely lifted from the floor.

Azriel flinches at the sight. Then he finally looks at you. Tears welling in his eyes.

“I had to Y/N.” He swallows thickly. “My nature is literally the depths of darkness. I skate a thin line of control and I can’t afford to fall from that ledge now that there is you.”

“Az-“ You move to step toward him.

“No.” Azriel shakes his head and side steps further from you. “You don’t understand. Cassian is whole and good and light. He is the moon. And you. You are his stars. You are two of the same. Meant for each other.” He grips the balcony's ledge so tightly the scars of his hands bloom white. Your emotions are at war inside you. You are furious that he left, joyful that he has returned and heart broken that he doesn’t see himself the way you do.

“If Cassian is the moon and I am the stars then Azriel you are our night sky.” You move to him now, resting your hands lightly on his forearm. The note he left that night beginning to make sense. “Your darkness doesn’t dim our light, it’s the reason for our brightness. Your darkness is the blanket in which we rest, the sanctuary in which we relied upon.” You take a steadying breath.

You begin to step back, to give him some space “But if your heart does not beat for us the way-“

Azriel’s hand snaps to your wrist and suddenly you find yourself wrapped in his arms, your face burrowed in his chest. His lips brush against the top of your head.

“Do not. For a second. Insinuate that I don’t think of you both in every second of every day.” You hold him infinitely closer at his words.

Time stretches on between you as you stand in each other's arms. Eventually you pull back.

“I need to tell Cassian that you’re here.” Azriel releases you from his arms and immediately you want to go back to him.

“You will stay?” You ask wary that as soon as you turn he will disappear again.

He nods. “I’ll wait to see him.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The door clicks closed on Cassian’s room as you step back into the hall. You find Azriel there waiting for you.

“He said” you pause.

“He doesn’t want to see me.” Azriel finishes unsurprised.

“Yes.” You admit quietly.

“It’s okay Y/N. He’s always been a stubborn ass.” His lips lift in a soft smirk. “I deserve much worse.” His wings fall and he turns to walk back down the hall. You quickly follow not wanting to let him out of your sight.

He pulls a chair out from the dining table and slumps into it. Instead of taking a seat of your own, you move to stand between his legs. He welcomes you into his space, hands finding your hips as your fingers brush across a stubbled jaw.

“I want to stay.” He whispers, dark eyes meeting yours.

“Then stay Azriel.” You whisper back. Letting your fingers trail across his face, committing every line and freckle to memory.

“How will you forgive me?” He turns to brush his lips along your palm. “How will he?”

“Just give it some time Azriel. He needs to know that you are staying for good. That you are committed to this.” You can’t bring yourself to say that you need it too, but you can see in Azriel’s eyes that he understands.

You stand in peace for a moment. Azriel was far from forgiven but he was here, back in your arms, back where he belonged.

“I’ll take the dedication.” Azriel nods after a moment, as if all is decided.

“The dedication?” You take a half step back trying to read his face.

“It’s an old Illyrian custom, the greatest act of commitment of one Illyrian to another.” He stands from the chair and takes your hands in his.

“It’s a sacrifice I will make for him and for you. I don’t expect either of you to forgive me right away but it’s a start.” His eyes are determined as they flick between yours.

He brings your hands to his lips and kisses each of them gently.

“I have to go to Windhaven. But I’ll be back soon.” He releases your hands and goes to move away.

“Wait.” You put a hand to his chest. “If this dedication is so important why haven’t you or Cassian taken it before?”

“Cassian wouldn-” He pauses. “It’s an outdated tradition. It’s rarely completed anymore. But I promise Y/N.” He steps forward and places a light kiss to your cheek “I’ll be back.”

He disappears over the closest balcony and a sinking feeling won’t leave your gut. Azriel is desperate to fix things between the three of you. What if this dedication is dangerous? What if he doesn’t return because he no longer can?

Azriel had said it was an old tradition no a sacrifice, but of what? He said that Cassian wouldn’t… No. This is bad. Whatever this dedication was Cassian didn’t want it from Azriel, which meant it was definitely dangerous. And Cassian was in no state to stop him. You did the only thing you could think to do.

Rhysand!

—-------------------------------------------------------------------

Rhys arrived at the house only moments later, his deep velvet suit twinkling with the lights of Starfall. Within the Night Court you could usually always reach him, but given recent events he had been extra vigilant of you and Cassian.

“I’m sorry to pull you from your family tonight.” You apologise.

“You are all part of my family. Is he okay?” Rhys tilts his head in consideration.

“Cass is fine. What’s the dedication?” You rush out.

“What? How do you know about dedication?” He looks at you with wide eyes and gods that cannot be good.

“Azriel’s back. Cassian wouldn’t see him and he’s gone to Windhaven to take the dedication. What is it? Is it another Rite?” The more you talk the whiter Rhys’ face becomes. And then he’s furious.

“That fucking fool.” Rhysand’s wings burst forth and he pivots heading back the way he came, to the stairs to the rooftop.

“Rhys?” You rush after him, taking the stairs two at a time.

“The dedication is an ancient Illyrian tradition. Usually performed by females.” His low growls echo through the stone stairwell. “It’s the ultimate act of submission of one Illyrian to another.”

Your stomach rolls at the implications. If the Illyrians no longer performed this dedication then it had to be truly barbaric.

“What act?” You pant out as Rhys reaches the door to the roof.

He turns to you briefly, “He’s going to remove his wings.”

You freeze. Your body literally locks into place at the top of stairs as Rhysand bursts onto the roof and takes flight, disappearing into the night sky.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

You don’t know how long you stand there, frozen in place. Azriel was going to remove his wings? Maybe they were already gone?

No. You couldn’t think like that. But why did he think you’d want that? Cassian wouldn’t want that, would he?

A thousand more questions run through your mind before your trance is broken by the appearance of two bodies in the sky above you.

Suddenly one body shoves away from the other and two pairs of Illyrian wings are silhouetted by the lights of Starfall.

Thank the Cauldron. Rhysand had reached him in time. You can hear their shouts of arguing far above you, but you can’t make out what’s being said.

You take the moment to reach out to Cassian.

Cass. You feel his warmth wrap around your mind. It always felt like being rugged up near a crackling fire when he reached for you. Azriel took off to Windhaven to take the dedication. He’s okay. Rhysand brought him back. All the warmth leached from your mind and you felt his side of the bond go cold. You let out a breath. You’d deal with that issue later, you could only handle one problem at a time right now.

Rhysand and Azriel were finally gliding back to the roof, both looking furious. As Azriel’s feet touch down you’re almost sent tumbling by a black blur flying past you. Cassian collides heavily with Azriel, sending his back slamming into the wall of the house.

Cassian, now dressed in full Illyrian leather's red sirens flaring brighter than you had seen in weeks, has Azriel pinned with a forearm to his chest.

“What the fuck are you thinking.” He snarls.

Azriel doesn’t even attempt to fight back, he allows himself to be held against the wall, wings flared on either side.

Rhysand takes quick stock of the situation like he’s seen this scenario play out a hundred times before and maybe he had. His eyes find yours and you give him a small nod, giving your thanks and letting him know that you’ll be okay. Rhys takes to the sky once again, returning to his family at the River House.

“You don’t get to reappear after three months and then take off to Windhaven for the dedication!” You’d never seen the fury in Cassian directed at Azriel before.

“What were you going to do huh?” He doesn’t wait for Azriel to respond. His voice raises as he becomes more desperate “Go through all that pain, retrain for weeks to adjust to the change in balance, just to rejoin a battle and leave yourself vulnerable? You enter a ward and you don’t winnow out! Did you think about that? That you wouldn’t be able to leave the ground anymore? That you wouldn’t be able to get out? That you wouldn’t be able to get her out?” Cassian tosses his head back in your direction. Azriel's eyes flick from Cassian to you and you can tell he hadn’t thought about it. That type of combat was Cassian’s forte. Those are the things that Cassian would always think about first.

“For what Azriel?” He lifts his forearm and slams it back into his chest.

“For you!” Azriel finally shouts back. “For you and for her. I would gladly deliver my wings to you on a silver platter if it meant you would even look in my direction again.”

“What?” Cassian steps back stunned.

“I left because I thought you’d both be better off without me.” Azriel pushes from the wall.

An image of you and Cassian tangled in bed together floods your vision and you realise it’s from the night Azriel left. You watch as his attention is drawn to one of his shadows crawling towards your resting figures and you know that's the moment he decided to leave.

You immediately answer with a memory of your own. With the conversation that directly preceded Azriel’s perspective.

He looked as if death came to walk the earth and I got fucking hard. Casian laughs at himself. Az scented it and jumped me, Rhys couldn’t winnow away fast enough. I guess you could say the darkness called to me.

I think I know the feeling. You giggled to yourself. Cassian raised a hand to your chin, pulling your eyes to his, dazzling grin still wide.

And that is why we are made for each other my love. He pulls you in for another lingering kiss.

You let the memory fade and you’re all brought back to the roof.

“You said we were the moon and the stars,” Cassian cocks his head in consideration as you step forward. And you already know you’ll have to fill him in on that conversation later. “But left to our own devices we burn each other out. You are the diffuser. You are the solace that cradles the light, that controls the burn.” You take his hand in yours, letting all the love and concern you have for him slide down the bond.

“If you thought she was made for me and I for her you were wrong.” Cassian’s voice is hoarse from the yelling. “We were made for you.”

Azriel’s eyes well with tears.

“And you walked away.” Cassian turns back to the house, all the fight now depleted from him.

Azriel bows his head in defeat.

“Cassian.” Azriel begs.

Cassian stills halfway to the door.

“I want to come home.” Azriel’s voice breaks.

“Then come home.” Cassian tosses over his shoulder before striding back into the house.

---------------------------------------------------------------------- a/n: So I think I'm incapable of writing a happy endings at this point, but Part 3 maybe?

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