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#Silencing a Thunderstorm
zegalba · 1 year
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Teresa Murak: “Third Crop” / “Silencing a Thunderstorm”
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opens-up-4-nobody · 26 days
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#its sort of funny. i think my medication is working pretty well. i feel stable in a way i never really have before#is it the dopamine stablizer or is it my ion channels? whos to say. it doesn't matter. but it also doesnt change some things#the ways i think and react negativly to change. but it makes it easier to deal with. i still experience this strange dispaire on the#weekends or anytime im not working. i think the oddest thing is thst i dont think ive ever been this consistenly sad#not in a depressed sort of way. just a passing thoughts make me tear up sort of way. it doesnt feel out of control. it just feels like a#prelude to grief i guess. bc my mum is still in the hospital and its so hard to kno what that means from halfway across the country#my sisters are both home right now. they both live within 3hrs of where we grew up. one sister lives in the city my mom goes to for#treatment. so they have the opportunity to see her more than me. i dunno if they do tho. we dont really talk. i dont kno if they're as sad#as i am. if im overreacting bc i cant physically see what's happening. what the feeling is in the room. not that she would probably complain#shes the suffer in silence type. my dad keeps texting us pics of our shitty lil sunroom that hes redoing#to make my mum a lil sanctuary. he must be sad too. its his wife. hes staying with her in the hospital rn. i dunno its so weird#when i talk to my counselor she assumes i find out info thru calls or talk to my sisters abt it and i gotta b like nah we dont really talk#i get my info thru text. i havent talked to my parents on the phone in like a month. i dunno we just dont talk. so i dont kno how to reach#out and be like yo so whats up? shoulf i plan on coming home this summer for a bit?? like???#this is the disadvantage of leaving thr place where you grew up. probably when i finish my phd i should move closer to home#somewhere in the Appalachian mountains maybe. somewere in the eastern deciduous forrest. somewhere with thunderstorms.#but thats years from now. who knows what ill b doing. for now im just sad and tired and i dont quite kno what to do in the short or long#term bc im feeling the weight of my mental limitations rather intensely. but maybe im just being self limiting#whatever. i dont have a dead mum yet. shes not even on hospice care. things are just uncertain and dont look so hot#i just dont see how it can get better from here when chemo gave her secondary blood cancer and shes still full of tumors#i dont think im being that dramatic. it just objectively seems not great for survival#unrelated
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soldier-poet-king · 9 months
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Why is everyone in my family allergic to shutting the fuck up. Why does no one know how to just sit and do things quietly. Why is everyone SO LOUD AND ANNOYING ALL THE TIME. Just pick a task and sit and do it QUIETLY AND UNOBTRUSIVELY FOR FIVE MINUTES
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cherryjuicegf · 2 years
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there's a shadow behind her eyes
of all the things she's never told anyone before
sometimes when she talks you can hear it rumbling
and you wonder
what it will take to make her roar
(she's a thunderstorm waiting to happen)
kissing you on the forehead for this <3
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devonellington · 7 months
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Fri. Sept. 8, 2023: Catching Up on What Didn't Get Done This Week
image courtesy of Elias via pixabay.com Friday, September 8, 2023 Waning Moon Pluto, Saturn, Neptune, Chiron, Mercury, Uranus, Jupiter Retrograde Sunny and Warm Did the heat finally break? Well, we had a storm and it’s a little better, but still too warm for my taste. Today’s serial episode is from ANGEL HUNT: Episode 66: What Niall Wants Niall shows up, making it clear to Lianna what he…
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sonofsin · 10 months
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fucked up how I can only remember 1 (one) positive memory with my father. I'm sure there were more, I'm sure he could be a loving father, but far more often he was either absent emotionally and/or physically or outright abusive even outside of the csa.
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luxthestrange · 2 months
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TWST Incorrect quotes#686 I AM A GOD
Yuu: I am a god!?!
Leona: You yelled "shut up" at a thunderstorm and it happened to dissipate, It was purely a coincidence, You have no power-
Malleus: Silence Kingscholar, They're a god
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murdrdocs · 5 months
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I've been thinking non stop about Mike liking Abby's new daycare teacher but is too shy to do anything so Abby just casually mentions that her big brother has a crush on you and is doing weird things like checking his hair and only wearing the same pants two days in a row instead of four. So when u spill that Abby told u he doesn't know whether to be mad at her or not bc if ur wasn't for her he would have a date
I LOVEE THESE TYPES OF THINGS GN! READER
you’re sweet, patient, professional while managing to slip in some casualness to the conversations that you and mike have (short and cordial always) that make him feel like you’re more of an acquaintance and not just someone he indirectly pays.
you’re young, around his age he assumes, and he confirms his assumptions when he’s questioning abby.
“your, uh, new teacher,” he starts as he’s finishing up dinner (spaghetti again).
abby hums from behind him. “what about them?” mike turns to glance at his sister who sits on the counter, her feet thudding against the cheap cabinets with the way she kicks them.
he turns back to the stove, shrugging and scratching at his ear. “nothing i was just wondering about them. like … are they … cool?”
and mike is so glad that abby has always been the more talkative one out of the two of them because she’s immediately thrusting herself into an analysis of your quirks and how you really care about the children.
long story short, abby likes you just as much as mike does. even more, actually.
she’s always running to hug you when mike drops her off and picks her up, and he distantly wishes he could do the same. he thinks he’s playing it cool, sending you tight lipped smiles and waves that are a little too disjointed.
but abby is more perceptive than he thinks.
each time he tells himself he’s going to have an actual conversation with you. maybe mention the band tee you wear on a casual friday or ask about the song you were humming before he’d arrived. there’s intentions for him to get to know you and eventually ask you out.
but he backs out each time.
leaving abby to play matchmaker.
when mike comes in one thursday afternoon, hoodie soaked from the thunderstorm outside, he greets you and notices that your smile is a little more bashful than usual. abby is running around with her friends inside, playing an intense game of indoor freeze tag, and mike is trying to get her attention but you stop him.
“they can play for a while longer. i couldn’t let both of you go out in that storm.”
he looks out the window and notices that somehow, it’d gotten stronger.
“uh, do you want something hot to drink? hot chocolate? tea? coffee?” you sound shy, maybe, but mike can't figure out why.
he's just grateful for a chance to spend time alone with you.
“coffee would be great, actually.”
you and mike end up in the kitchen of the small cafeteria, each drinking your respective drinks in silence, until you speak.
“um, i hope i’m not overstepping.” mikes ears perk up because that’s never a good start. “but abby told me that you have a crush on me. is that true?”
fucking abby.
his ears redden immediately, head dropping as he considers how to play this. but before he can even decide, you’re speaking again.
“because if so, i just want to let you know that i feel the same.”
he lifts his head too quick, a little bit of his coffee spilling out of the loaned mug with the movement. he doesn’t care about that, though, at least not immediately. instead, he focuses on you. he searches your face for a joking smile, maybe a little bit of mischief in your eyes. but there’s nothing but honesty in them.
he takes the plunge.
“would you wanna do something … sometime?” not very descriptive but you smile at him anyway.
“i would love to.”
god bless abby.
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hier--soir · 9 months
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sleepy
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader summary: joel is out like a light, but you can only think of one thing that will help you fall asleep. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] established relationship, f!masturbation, masturbating next to sleeping partner, unprotected piv, cockwarming, mild dirty talk, soft joel. word count: 2.7k a/n: this one is for the folks with sleep problems lmao. hope you guys enjoy—any feedback is appreciated!
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Your bedroom was pitch-black, the curtains drawn to protect against any slivers of light shining in and disturbing either of you in the morning. Rain pattered softly against the roof, comforting you as you lay awake in the darkness.
Joel was dead asleep beside you.
His bare chest rose and fell with rhythmic deep breaths, soft lips parted to allow quiet snores to escape. After an hour or so your eyes had adjusted to the dark, and you were able to make out the fuzzy outline of his face and body, the way his forehead had smoothed out in his sleep, and how his hair pressed against his forehead from being shoved into the pillow.
It was something you’d never understood—the way most men could simply close their eyes and drift into sleep within minutes. Every man you’d ever dated, slept with, or even slept in the same room as; they were all the same. A few minutes of silence before their breathing evened out into soft snores, body relaxing into the mattress as they disappeared into dreamland. It wasn’t fair.
You’d struggled with sleep since you were a teenager. No matter how busy your days were, or how much physical labour you undertook, your mind whirred at night, endlessly awake until you’d exhausted all avenues of thought, and you’d wake the next morning with no recollection of ever falling asleep.
And when you’d first met Joel, you’d discovered it was much the same for him. Fierce nightmares plagued him at night, terrified him out of falling asleep until he physically couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, only to fitfully rouse him at multiple points throughout the evening. But as your relationship grew over the years, the pair of you settled. You got comfortable, and suddenly all it took was wrapping your arms around one another and you could both pass out with a snap of your fingers.
But on days like this—ones where you’d wiled the hours away reading and doing laundry and eating your meals alone and being terribly fucking bored—you felt old habits rear their ugly head, as you laid down for bed and found yourself wide awake. And yet you couldn’t be mad at him, didn’t even contemplate frustration or jealousy, because his day had been vastly different to yours.
When you’d woken up that morning to find his side of the bed empty, the cold sheets signalled that he’d risen far earlier than you. A note left on the kitchen counter told you that he’d been called out to fill a patrol spot for someone who was under the weather, and that he wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary for him to do favours like that for people, and so you’d gone about your day as usual, performing mundane tasks and chores, milling about with no real goals set for yourself.
And when he did get home, well after sunset, he looked worse for wear. Sodden clothes stuck to his skin as he kicked off waterlogged boots, mumbling under his breath about needing to trade for some thicker socks. It had been raining for hours. What started with soft spitting in the early afternoon had quickly turned into a thunderstorm, and Joel and Tommy had been caught in the thick of it all evening. Fat droplets of cold water oozed out of his hair and rolled down his face, slipping under the collar of his shirt to send shivers down his spine.
He looked positively miserable as he shed the soaked layers by the door, impervious to the sympathetic look you were offering from the couch. Only when he was down to his underwear and t-shirt did he spare a glance in your direction, gaze softening.
“Long day?” you asked softly.
“Long day,” he confirmed, not making a move to come any closer, lest he get any of the rainwater on you.
“Tell me about it,” you prompted, padding across the room to him.
“I’d rather hear about yours,” he retorted earnestly, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek.
And so you led him up the stairs and into the bathroom, detailing how you’d managed to get their washing done before the rain properly set in. And as he stepped under the warm spray of the shower, you told him about Ellie stopping by for a movie in the afternoon.
He hummed to signal that he was listening, but you could see how the day hung heavy on his shoulders. His head slumped forward under the stream, thick steam filling the air as he lazily rubbed a bar of soap along his skin with one hand and brushed his teeth with the other.
“Sounds like a nice day,” Joel smiled as he shut off the water, stepping out into a towel you had ready for him. You nodded, feeling somewhat guilty that he’d listened all about it, knowing his had been the complete opposite.
But he didn’t seem bothered, herding you towards the bedroom where he pulled you underneath the covers, pressing a few soft kisses to your cheeks before he relaxed back into his pillow. Cue: a few brief minutes of silence, breaths growing heavier, and then snoring. And god he deserved it. You watched him for a while, smiling softly at the sight of the man you loved so dearly, your life partner through thick and thin, getting the rest he so needed.
It was lovely… for the first thirty minutes. And then an hour passed. And then it got closer to two hours, and you could hear the leaky shower faucet dripping from down the hall, and the trees rustling against the side of the house, and you were so fucking awake.
The thought flashed through your mind, as it always did when you couldn’t sleep.
Maybe if you just….
Having an orgasm was the only thing you could think of that might tire you out enough to have you falling asleep in seconds. The way the muscles in your arm would get sore, and your entire body would go from tense to lax within minutes. It was enough to have warmth flood your bones and dopamine zap through your brain – and would definitely put you to sleep in a heartbeat. You felt guilty, though, as you contemplated it. Masturbating in front of Joel was common, and was something he often encouraged during sex, dragging your hand between your thighs and encouraging you to touch yourself while he got undressed. But doing it while he was asleep beside you was territory you’d never dipped your toe into before.
Is this perverse? Am I being creepy? What if he wakes up and is horrified?
Well, you told yourself. You just have to make sure that he doesn’t wake up.
Slowly, so as not to disturb the blankets too much, you slid your palm across your stomach until your fingers cupped your sex over your underwear. You stroked your fingers across the material, teasing yourself a little, trying to inspire some kind of horniness. And after a few minutes of gentle touching you could feel a warmth brewing in your stomach, a desire.
Carefully, you tugged your underwear down your legs before swiping your tongue across your middle and ring finger, lubricating them before you pressed them between your folds. You swiped at your entrance, collecting the small amount of slick that had formed there and spreading it across your core. A soft puff of air left your mouth as your fingertips connected with your clit for the first time, thighs tensing as you circled over it with fierce precision. This wasn’t about fun and games or prolonging the experience – this was about finishing as fast and as quietly as possible, and then going the fuck to sleep.
You took care not to move your arm too quickly, tensing your bicep to keep it still while your fingers circled and stroked and flicked against your clit, trying to find the perfect rhythm. A slow tightening began to build in your lower stomach as you discovered the right spot, the right speed, and you quickly pushed a finger inside yourself, collecting more of your slick before returning to your now aching bundle of nerves, the added lubrication making it easier to move.
A harsh exhale to your right made you pause for a moment, limbs stiffening as you waited to see if Joel had woken up. But a moment later his breathing steadied, and you relaxed, fingers continuing their quick movements.
Your forearm burned, muscles tensing with the struggle of keeping still but also providing enough friction to bring you to the edge. And as you felt your high approaching, you struggled to keep your breathing quiet, as heavy, laboured exhales forced themselves past your chapped lips. With your blood rushing in your ears and your middle finger drawing figure eights against your sensitive clit, you could feel it. You were so close, so fucking close, just five more secon—
“What are you doin’?”
The words were accompanied by a warm hand landing on top of your own, long fingers hovering over yours to see if he was correct; if you were touching yourself. A short gasp of surprise left you and your fingers froze, orgasm slinking away, disappearing from reach. Fuck.
“Shit, sorry,” you mumbled breathlessly, a little embarrassed to have been caught. “I can’t sleep and it’s been hours, and m’just trying to make myself sleepy, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologise.” Joel’s voice was rough and gravelly from sleep, and you bit back a whimper at the sound of it, fingers twitching against your pulsing centre. He moved on the bed, shifting closer so you could feel the warmth of his chest against your side. “Should’ve woken me up baby, would’ve helped tire you out.”
As he spoke, his hand tightened over yours, pushing your fingers to continue moving. Shyly, you began to circle your clit again, attempting to make out his expression through the darkness. For a moment, you swore you could see him grinning.
“You had a bad day,” you whispered raggedly. “Need the rest, I—fuck—didn’t mean to w-wake you.”
While you chattered away, a thick finger dipped into your folds, stroking against the pool of wetness that rested at your entrance. Your fingers sped up, the warmth of his body helping you chase the high you’d come so agonisingly close to. He exhaled heavily, forehead dropping against your shoulder.
“Christ,” he sounded pained. “You’re fucking—soaked. Were you thinkin’ ‘bout me?”
“Wasn’t thinking about anything,” you murmured honestly. “Just—ungh—just wanted to come, knew it’d help me fall asleep.”
“Poor baby,” he tutted, nosing at the side of your neck. “Need somethin’ to come on, hmm? Is that it?”
“Yes,” you mewled, hips shifting desperately upward into your hand now that you weren’t afraid of your movements waking him up. He dragged his hand away from you, using it to remove his underwear and then you could feel him against your hip, solid and hot and throbbing. He must have been listening for a moment, hearing you work yourself up. Your mouth went dry, stomach tensing at the feeling of him.
“Yes what, honey?”
“Need something to come on,” you repeated his words, grateful that he couldn’t see the sheer desperation on your face in the darkness.
A strong hand gripped your hip, gently pushing your body until you were laying on your left side and facing the wall. And then he was there, hot chest pressing against your back, lips dragging along the shell of your ear as he manoeuvred your legs into the best position for him to drag the aching tip of his cock through your drenched folds.
He exhaled heavily at the feeling, taking a moment to lube himself up with your slick before notching his head at your entrance. Your fingers were still against your clit, eyes closed as you waited for him to press in.
One arm slithered underneath your head, wrapping around your shoulders to hold you firmly against his chest and allow you to rest the side of your head on his bicep. His other hand held you still, fingertips pushing into your flesh as he flexed his hips, dragging his cock halfway into you. You gasped, pushing your ass back into him, mumbling some nonsense under your breath like ineedyou and pleasejoel and fuck.
He tried to control his breathing, but hot heavy puffs of air tickled the back of your neck as his pelvis came flush to the soft round of your ass, and then he was bottoming out, the full length of him slipping easily inside of you. A low moan dragged its way up your throat and you clutched deliriously at the arm around your torso, griding yourself back against him. But he didn’t budge an inch.
“Go on, baby,” Joel rasped against your ear. “Make yourself come.”
A soft cry of frustration left you, but your hand dropped between your thighs within a second. Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing his length as you began to rub your clit in soft, slow motions at first. He murmured quiet encouragements in your ear with that deep, coarse drawl that drove you crazy, his thumb rubbing against your waist as you rutted against him. He was heavy inside you, bringing a delicious burn to your cunt that you always loved, a beautiful medley of pleasure and pain that had you careening towards the orgasm that had dangled so painfully out of reach for however long.
Joel’s teeth nipped at the sensitive skin below your ear, no doubt leaving a mark as he licked and sucked over the sore spot he’d caused. You gasped at the sensation, tilting your chin up to give him better access to your neck. He squeezed your hip appreciatively, leaning closer to sponge messy kisses along your racing pulse point. Your fingers moved fast against yourself now, circling and rubbing messily, and unintentional moans were spilling from your lips as you felt the coil in your stomach start to draw tighter and tighter.
“Joel,” you choked, hips bucking relentlessly as you searched for more friction, but he still didn’t give you anything.
“C’mon,” he urged. “I know it feels so good, honey, keep goin’. You’re so close, I can—shit—I can feel it, c’mon now give it t’me.”
It didn’t take much more than that for you to start twitching, body convulsing against him as your orgasm tore through you. Your arm burned as you continued to rub your clit, fucking yourself through it as your walls clamped down around him.
He groaned softly in your ear, grip on your waist tightening just a fraction as he pressed forward, giving you a hint of a thrust to prolong your high. You cried out, mouth hanging open in elation as waves of pleasure rolled through you. It was euphoric, and exactly what you needed. Your hand stilled after a minute, and then you were simply rocking against him, riding out the aftershocks.
After a while, the ringing in your ears died down and pinpricks of feeling returned to your fingers as you released the death grip you had on his arm around you.
You slumped against him, the only tension remaining in your body being in your neck as you tried to keep your head up. Your eyelids had grown heavy, and you could feel your body relaxing into the post-orgasm haze that you’d been seeking so desperately.
“Good girl,” he murmured, lathing soft kisses against the edge of your jaw. “Feelin’ tired now?”
You hummed sleepily in response, walls fluttering around him. He let out a low groan but didn’t move.
“Sleep, darlin’,” he said quietly, arms tightening to keep your back flush to his chest.
You could feel how hard he still was, cock pulsing inside you every few moments. But his body was heavy, arms like lead draped over you, and his head had already dropped down to rest against the pillow again. He was exhausted.
“Can we stay like this?” you asked drowsily, shifting your hips to show what you meant.
Joel squeezed your hip in confirmation, and you murmured gratefully. His warmth shrouded your body, filling you up and enveloping you, keeping you safe as your muscles slackened entirely, chin dropping to your chest.
A soft, stilted thank you was the last thing you could muster before sleep clouded your brain and pulled you under. Finally.
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incognit0slut · 6 months
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BATTLE SCARS
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Part 2 of kinktober | main masterlist
What started out as innocently counting body scars with your coworker, who you were stuck in the same bed with, ended far from being innocent.
sub!spencer x fem!reader; Face sitting, male and female oral, body worship, cockwarming
words: 6,300 (I couldn’t help it the buildup was fun to write)
a/n: I hope this shows up on your page because apparently this app hates me
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"THERE’S ONLY ONE ROOM LEFT."
Of course, there is, you thought, eyes glancing over to your partner of the day. Spencer was the one you were partnered with when Hotch had sent you to check on the victim's childhood home. He's good at deducing clues, was what your unit chief had said, and although those words were well-intentioned, you couldn't help but feel slightly dejected.
One month of working in the BAU meant that everyone would scrutinize you, even when you knew you were more than capable of doing the job. It wasn't like you were randomly picked for this position. You went through the same process as everyone else did. You were as smart as everyone was but it seemed that your boss still thought you needed a babysitter to do this simple task.
One month of working as the latest addition to the team also meant you didn't know your colleagues that well, which was why you wondered what was going through Spencer's mind in this current predicament. What did he think of the sudden thunderstorm hitting this remote town just as you were about to leave? What did he feel about having to seek shelter because driving in this terrible condition wasn't a choice anymore?
And what ran through his mind when the guy behind the counter, who looked like he didn't even want to be here in the first place, said there was only one room left?
"Are you sure?" Your coworker pressed on, eyes darting across the computer screen sitting on the desk. "Did you check every room? All of them?"
The man in front of him quirked an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm not doing my job right?"
"No, he's not," you cut in. You glanced at Spencer, noticing he was constantly fidgeting on his feet. You might not know him well enough, but you were a profiler, and with the way he kept shifting his weight from one leg to another, you could tell he was uncomfortable with the situation. You wondered what had him so worked up like this. Was it the idea of having to spend the night with a woman? 
Well, he did seem like the type of guy who didn't have his fair share of nights with the opposite sex, but then again, you weren't going to start guessing his personal life. Although you did once see him act all bashful in front of a witness who, you had to admit, was the epitome of sweet and innocent. Her traits were probably on the top list of his preferred type, exactly the opposite of yours.
Huh.
So was it just the idea of spending the night with you that ticked him off?
"It's fine," you said, looking back at—you narrowed your eyes at the name tag clipped on his shirt—Kevin. His name was Kevin. "We'll take it."
Spencer's eyes fell on you. "But—"
"But it's pouring outside and neither of us should be driving in this horrible weather," you added. "End of discussion."
He looked like he was about to retort a reply when a sudden string of light cackled through the night sky, followed by another heavy downpour. He winced as his shoulders slumped, another posture of discomfort but one with a hint of defeat. You saw him reluctantly nod from the corner of your eyes.
"Alright," he finally said. "We'll take it."
Kevin slid a key across the wooden desk. "Room 306."
You thanked him and grabbed onto the key before turning on your heels. The walk to the room was extremely quiet except for the constant sound of the rain pouring outside. Spencer shuffled his feet beside you, and even though you wanted to fill in the silence, the thought of him not wanting to room with you annoyed you more than you wanted to admit.
Were you really that bad? Was the idea of sharing a room with you repulsive for him to act this way?
When you finally reached your shared room, an immediate sense of awkwardness washed over you like an unexpected wave. The room, though not large, was well-furnished and neat. But what caught your attention was the sight that greeted you in the dimly lit space. In the center of the room was a bed—not large enough to be luxurious, yet not small enough to be cozy.
Your eyes met briefly with his and a moment of unease passed between you two. Finally, he broke the silence with a hesitant voice. "I can sleep in the car."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his suggestion. "It's pouring outside."
"Right." He sighed, realizing the impracticality of his proposal. "Well, then I'll, uh, sleep on the floor."
"Reid." Your narrowed eyes fixed on him, your patience wearing thin. "The bed is big enough for the both of us. I don't mind sharing."
He paused, clearly taken aback by your straightforward response. "A-Are you sure?"
"I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't," you replied, showing your back to him. "I'm going to use the bathroom first."
"U-uh, yes. Sure. Of course," he stammered, his voice trailing off as he watched you leave the room.
You retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. As you washed your hands and splashed some cool water on your face, you couldn't help but wonder what had led to his initial hesitance. The storm outside was fierce, and the idea of venturing into it to sleep in the car or on the floor seemed impractical, to say the least. You knew that sharing the bed was the most sensible option, but there was an unspoken tension in the room, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why he had been so reluctant.
Turning off the tap, you took a deep breath. Whatever. He could act all uncomfortable as much as he wanted and you could pretend he wasn't even there. So you decided to shed your jeans, leaving yourself in the oversized button-up shirt that served as your makeshift nightwear.
The shirt fell gracefully to the middle of your thighs, offering a sense of ease you couldn't find in your uncomfortable jeans. With them neatly folded and placed on the bathroom counter, you looked back into the mirror one last time, straightening your wrinkled shirt, and ran a hand through your hair before stepping back into the room.
You found him seated on the edge of the bed, his posture awkward and uncertain. You watched as he shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting toward the single window in the shared space, his eyes narrowing each time a particularly strong gust of wind rattled the pane.
You decided to break the silence. "You know, it's just a little rain. We'll be out of here as soon as the weather clears up tomorrow."
His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a mixture of frustration and something else, something deeper, in his eyes. "It's not about the rain," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation.
So it really was about you.
His gaze then traveled over your exposed skin, and you could see his eyes growing wide, clearly taken aback by your choice of attire. "W- What are you wearing?"
Unable to suppress a chuckle at his sudden shift in demeanor, you decided to play along. "Do you mean what I'm not wearing?"
He blinked, his response caught in his throat, leaving him momentarily speechless. His gaping mouth and wide-eyed expression only fueled your amusement. You shrugged in response, trying to play off his intense gaze, but you felt his eyes linger on your thigh, fixated on the long scar mapping along your skin.
"Reid," you called out, and he looked up at you, his expression wry as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been.
"Y-yes?" he stammered, clearly flustered by being caught in the act.
You pointed toward the bathroom. "You can use it now," you suggested.
His face lit up with realization. "Oh! Right," he exclaimed, his flustered state evident as he stumbled on his way to the bathroom.
The awkwardness seemed to follow him as he disappeared into the other room. After turning off the main lights, you left only the soft glow of the bed lamp, which cast a warm ambiance in the room. The covers provided a sense of security and comfort as you finally settled beneath them.
A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a white shirt he seemed to wear under his button-down shirt. However, unlike you, he still had his pants on, although he did discard his belt.
Seeing him in this stripped-down, casual state was a bizarre sight. You had grown accustomed to his poised and professional demeanor, and the sight of him dressed in ordinary clothes seemed oddly intimate as if you were witnessing a side of him that few others had seen. It was as if you were seeing him naked even when he was still covered in most of his clothes.
He then settled onto the bed with a noticeable awkwardness, causing the mattress to sink down slightly under his weight. He lay far away from you, in a stiff and distant manner, clearly still grappling with the awkwardness of the situation.
"Reid, relax, I'm not going to bite you," you said reassuringly, trying to dispel some of the tension in the room. A small, playful smile danced on your lips. "Unless that's what you want me to do," you added, your voice taking on a teasing note.
A brief moment of silence followed, and it almost seemed as if he was contemplating your playful offer. You felt the tension shift into something else, but before it could further linger, you decided to break the silence with a forced laugh, shaking off the tension. You then rolled over to your side, closing your eyes shut, ignoring the sound of heavy rain hitting the window and the bolt of lightning occasionally flashing through the sky. You just wanted to rest. You just wanted peace. You wanted to sleep.
But sleep didn't want you.
About ten minutes later, you groaned softly and rolled over onto your back. "Reid," you said, breaking the silence.
He hummed in response.
"I can't sleep," you confessed, your voice carrying a hint of restlessness. Turning to face him, you propped yourself up on your elbow. "Tell me something about yourself," you suddenly requested, your curiosity cutting through the awkwardness.
He hesitated for a moment as if considering whether he should respond to you or not, but then he eventually asked, "Anything?" 
"Anything."
"Well, I—uh," he cut off, and with a faint hint of modesty, he began again. "I'm extremely smart."
From all the information he could share, he decided to share that. But it was still something, at least you could get your coworker to talk instead of fidgeting in discomfort. "Yeah? How smart?"
"Well, I have an IQ of 187 and three PhDs."
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's impressive," you responded, but then you let out a scoff. "And extremely conceited. Someone asks you to share a fact about yourself and you decide to brag about your brain."
Your remark earned you a small, amused smile from him. "You told me to share anything."
With a mischievous glint in your eye, you leaned in a little closer. "Alright, your turn."
He gulped at your sudden movement but kept his attention on your eyes. "My turn for what?"
You laid on your back again. "Ask me something," you suggested.
There was a moment of hesitation as if he had been contemplating whether to ask the question and then his voice filled the air. "What happened to you?"
"What do you mean?" You asked, your brows furrowed slightly.
"Y-Your scar."
You couldn't resist a teasing tone as you turned your head toward him. "Spencer Reid," you taunted, a playful glint in your eye. "Were you checking me out?"
His response was quick and slightly flustered. "What? No!" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "It was a mere observation," he clarified, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.
Your laughter filled the room, a light, and genuine sound that seemed to dissolve some of the remaining tension in the air. "Alright, alright," you conceded, still amused by the exchange. "Observation duly noted."
Without warning, you kicked off the covers, a spontaneous decision driven by a mix of curiosity and the playful atmosphere that had developed between you. Your actions were unanticipated, even to yourself, but perhaps it was his flustered self that had spurred you on.
As the covers fell to the side, you extended your leg, showing him the white scar dancing along the inner part of your thigh. His eyes widened in surprise, his gaze drawn to your exposed skin. For a moment, there was silence, as if the room held its breath, and then he met your eyes.
"Fell off a cliff from a hiking trip," you explained, your voice softening with the memory. "I was exploring a trail and had a bit of a mishap. It left me with this scar as a souvenir."
His eyes flickered over the scar. "Did it hurt?"
You shrugged. "It did, but I guess I got through it."
Then, to his surprise, you began to unbutton your shirt. His eyes widened in disbelief at your actions. "W-what are you doing?"
You merely grinned in response, your confidence unwavering. You pushed the material of your shirt off your shoulder, revealing another scar, smaller and darker than the one on your thigh. "This is the most painful one," you explained. "A bullet from a handgun."
He examined the scar intently. "What happened?"
"A chase with a suspect a few years ago," you recounted, recalling your life before you joined the BAU. "We cornered the suspect in an abandoned warehouse, it was a tense standoff. He was armed, and in the chaos of the moment, a shot was fired." You gave him a smile. "I was the unlucky one in the way."
Your eyes locked with one another in a moment of shared understanding, and then you asked, "What about you? Any battle scars?"
He paused for a moment, considering your question. He seemed hesitant at first as if debating whether to share, but then he slowly lifted his shirt, revealing a scar on his lower abdomen. "Flying bullet."
He turned slightly, revealing a slight scar on his lower back, the result of a sharp weapon grazing his skin. It was a subtle yet significant mark. "An Unsub armed with a knife." He then laid back on his back again and tapped his right leg. "There's another scar from a bullet on my knee."
You couldn't help but tease him lightly, your tone playful. "Well, aren't you a magnet for disaster?"
His expression softened at your teasing. You stared at each other silently, taking in each other's presence in the close proximity the bed offered. You weren't sure how, or when for the matter, but it seemed the distance you both created grew shorter in the span of time you were talking.
Your gaze drifted over his features, from his brown orbs to his pointed nose, then along his high cheekbones before settling on the small scar underneath his jawline. It was a subtle mark, but it caught your attention, and you couldn't resist reaching out to gently touch it.
"What about this?" you inquired, your finger tracing the scar. "How did you get it?"
His breath seemed to catch at your sudden touch, and he stammered slightly in response, "I-I cut myself with a razor this morning."
You couldn't help but chuckle at his explanation, and your finger continued to graze his skin, skimming along the faded scar in a circular motion. "And how bad did it hurt?" you asked.
"Not so much," he whispered, his breathing starting to become uneven and it was at that moment you realized how compromising of a position you were in. He was on his back, and somehow you managed to press yourself onto him with a leg resting on his, your hips flushed against his side.
Maybe the rain, the rhythmic pattern of the raindrops beating in synchronized with your heart pushed your actions. Or perhaps it was being in the same bed. Whatever it was, the undeniable proximity between you created a charged atmosphere in the room. Every breath felt heavy, and the air seemed to thicken with unspoken tension, drawing you even closer.
You wanted to kiss him. How could you not when he was looking at you with those eyes? It was hard to ignore this sudden pull of attraction, but Spencer seemed like the type of guy who rarely made the first move. Maybe you needed to initiate it first.
"You know..." you began, your eyes trailing across his tiny scar. "I was thinking of kissing it better?" Your words hung in the air, and you felt him stiffen beside you. "If it was painful, that is."
A charged silence enveloped the room after your suggestive offer. Your heart raced, taking a leap at the first step in crossing the line. He could either play along or push you away, it was a risk you were willing to take, and you prayed he was into it just as you were.
"A- Actually," he stuttered. "I think I'm starting to feel the pain now."
You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling. "Oh, you poor thing." And before he could respond, you bent over and pressed your soft lips against his scar. You felt him momentarily freeze. "Better?"
You thought he was about to back away when he didn't answer, but then his words had you grinning from ear to ear.
"...I'm not sure," he replied, his voice cutting through the silence. "I think it still hurts?"
Your smile grazed his scar again, softly, barely even touching it, before you trailed down his jawline, stopping on the crook of his neck.
"I.." He breathed out, his voice sounding strangled as you felt his grip on your hip. "I-I don't think that's where the scar is."
"I know." You opened your mouth, your tongue slightly tasting his skin. "I'm making a scar of my own."
Your parted lips were hot against his skin, his eyes fluttering close as you softly sucked on the spot below his ear. You always loved receiving neck kisses, but giving them? There was a certain sense of power to be able to make someone shiver under you, and it was what he was doing right now, breath hitching every time you sucked on a different spot.
You cupped his face as you continued to trail your lips along his neck, pressing your body closer to his. You moved your hand lower, fingers grazing his jawline before it rested around his throat, and as you put slight pressure on your hold, you heard him inhale sharply. You paused, not sure you were hearing right, but then you tightened your grip around his neck and a soft, strangled moan escaped his lips.
You smiled.
Spencer Reid, you naughty, kinky boy.
"We can stop if you want," you murmured against his skin because truthfully, you knew you couldn't restrain yourself after this.
"N- no," he sighed. "Don't stop."
It was enough for you to throw your leg over him. You lifted yourself up and straddled his lower half, stifling a moan as you felt the hard pressure between your thighs, and pressed your lips against his. You couldn't stop yourself from kissing him with so much fervor. Your lips collided with his as you pushed your tongue inside his opened mouth—tasting him, exploring him, devouring him. Who would've thought you would enjoy kissing your coworker this much?
You pulled away and studied him. Spencer was a blessing to witness. His eyes were heavy and hooded, his hair was disheveled with some strands stuck to his forehead and his lips were swollen and parted as he breathed slowly through them. His pale complexion bore the marks of a flush and you couldn't stop yourself from pushing away a strand of hair from his face.
"You're so pretty." Those words came out of your mouth without much thought in which you received a breathless sigh in return.
"You're.... you're more pretty."
You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair. "You understand I'm not going to stop now, right?" He faintly nodded. "And do you know what that means?"
He shook his head.
"It means I'm going to fuck you," you taunted, a wicked smile curling on your lips. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to use that smart brain of yours.”
The whine flying out of his mouth was enough for you to lean in closer, your lips extremely close to his but not quite touching. "Can I be rough?" His strangled whimper had you wrapping your hand around his throat again. "Use your words, baby."
"Y-yes," he breathed out. "Please."
"Good."
You pulled your hand back and brought it down sharply on his cheek.  The sound startled you because it sounded harder than it felt, ringing out loud with only the faintest sting on your palm.
Spencer looked genuinely surprised. His head turned with the impact of the slap, jaw falling open.  He blinked himself back into focus and you were about to ask if you were being too much, but then he looked at you in a way he had never looked at you before. The dazed and desperation of his gaze moved right through you, flushing you with heat.
"Such a pretty boy for me," you said, gently rubbing his cheek. You watched him, a curious smile playing at the corners of your lips. In that moment, you felt a peculiar sense of power and intimacy that was unlike any other you had experienced. It was an odd but exhilarating sensation, feeling an almost illicit delight in the power you held over him.
You then slowly straightened yourself. Taking your time, you began to unbutton your shirt as his gaze burned into you. You popped each button open until it left the sight of your black, laced bra on display for his eyes to devour. Your bra showed a hint of skin over the top, bouncing a little as you pulled yourself out of your shirt.
You reached behind your back to unhook your bra before slipping it from your shoulders, allowing your breasts to bounce free. Spencer couldn't help but swipe his tongue across his lips at the sight. Your breasts were on display with hardened, aching nipples to taunt him. You brought them in your palms, playing and squeezing your flesh for a moment just to tease him.
"Do you want to taste me?"
He let out a desperate sigh. "Please."
You placed the palm of your hands on his chest before leaning in, dropping your breasts right in front of his face. It didn't take him long to know what you wanted, and he quickly wrapped your right nipple in his mouth, his tongue hot against your skin.
"Fuck, Spencer," you moaned. You shivered upon the contact. His mouth sucking on your nipple was making your head delirious. Warmth spiraled from your core to the rest of your body as he tasted you, and when you thought you couldn't feel more aroused than you already were, he let go of your swollen nipple just to give his attention to the other one, sucking even harder.
You couldn't handle it anymore. A moment later your fingers ran down his chest, brushing over his stomach to feel him tense beneath your touch until the second you grip the hem of his pants. "Take these off for me."
You had never seen someone move so fast before. The moment you climbed off the bed, he started peeling his clothes from his body piece by piece. He left no article on before throwing his clothes to the floor, eyes raking your body as you stood before him in nothing but your panties. Those were quick to go, however. You pushed them down your hips and flicked the thin fabric past your feet.
A strained groan filled his chest as he looked at you, marveling at your naked form with wonder. Thoughtlessly he wrapped a hand around the base of his hardened cock and your eyes instantly take in the sight. The way he was biting his bottom lip, fingers around his thick, hard length had your mouth watering, but you stopped yourself from giving in.
"Who said you could touch yourself?"
His body tensed. He quickly placed his hands on the bed as you climbed back on the bed, the mattress sinking in from your weight.
“I like to be warmed up a little first," you told him as you settled on top of him again, but this time, you scooted further, putting your knees on either side of his head. Spencer's eyes went wide as he looked up to see you wet and bare, hovering inches away from his face.
"I'm going to sit on your face, and if you can make me come on your tongue..." You started to lower yourself. "I'll give you your reward."
You felt his breath on your center, and the minute his tongue touched you, you let out a moan. He worked his tongue over your clit, swallowing every drop of arousal dripping down his mouth. You gripped the headboard and rocked yourself back and forth while he continued to lap on your pussy without any care for the mess you made. You were wet and sloppy as his tongue moved in and out of you, up and down your folds while also sucking on your swollen clit.
"Oh my god," you moaned, looking down at where you could see the top of his face, his eyes closed as he groaned on your flesh, wrapping his arm around your thighs while never stopping stroking your wetness with his tongue. He held you tight, keeping you in place, and there was nothing else you could do but buck your hips as you ran your hands through his hair and tugged on the strands, receiving a deep, rough yet excited groan from him.
You exhaled his name, not being able to find the words or the breath in you to speak as you felt the familiar coil in your stomach. He flicked his tongue over your clit a few times before gathering up your juices and circling back to the swollen bud, massaging your flesh with the flat of his tongue. You felt the bliss swelling inside your body. You knew you wouldn't last much longer.
"I'm getting close," you warned him, beginning to grind your pussy against his mouth. He groaned against your flesh, sending vibrations through your body in return, and with a few more laps around your clit, you finally reached your high.
You felt the warmth from between your legs surge through your whole body. Your pussy walls tightened as you kept rocking your hips against him, whimpering, moaning, crying out that you were coming. You shivered and trembled above him, tossing your head back, gripping his hair even tighter, and pressing your thighs together around his head.
It took a moment for you to come down from your orgasm, and as you did, his motions slowed down, licking you gently, his hands soothing down your thighs. You finally lift your hips off his face, hovering above him on shaky thighs.
"You did so well," you cooed. You slowly shifted down his body, and when he thought you were about to straddle him again, you surprised him by moving lower.
“Let me give you your reward." You sighed while wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock in a firm grip. "You deserve it."
He felt so hot in your hand, so thick, so big, and utterly beautiful. You slowly moved your hand along his length, stroking him gently as you watched his lips parting open from the pleasure. You continued to stroke him, motions slow and steady, and he eventually closed his eyes, head falling back against the bed. You swiped your thumb across the tip, his eyes shot open as he looked at you.
"Keep your eyes on me."
He carefully propped himself on his elbows to get a better view just as you gripped him tighter while leaning close. The droplet of wetness on the tip looked too nice to be ignored so you leaned in and licked it up, your eyes meeting his gaze, and his jaw slacked open in pure pleasure. A pause settled in the room before you finally took him fully in your mouth, giving him an exploratory suck.
You kept swallowing him down, your jaw stretching wide as you struggled to get every inch of him inside your mouth, wrapping your hand around what was left. You hollowed your cheeks and greedily inhaled him. His smooth, warm length slid across your tongue and his cock hit the back of your throat.
Without warning his hips jerked up, and you gagged, rearing back off with a cough, eyes watering. "I'm s-sorry," he apologized.
"It's okay, baby, I'm giving you your reward," you whispered before holding his throbbing cock in your grip again. "Hold my hair up for me?"
He did exactly as he was told, gathering your hair in his hands. Your mouth enclosed around him again and you repeated the movement, trailing down his cock with your tongue, hands twisting back and forth, lips sliding back down until you had every inch of him in your mouth.
You glanced up at him, brow-raising mischievously as you moved your head in a rapid motion. He panted out a whine, his chest heaving as he inhaled a lung full of desperately needed air.
"Please..." he whimpered, bucking up ever so slightly. His cheeks burned at the sound of his own desperation. You gazed up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, so pretty and needy. He blinked down at you, your cheeks flushed and lips stretched wide, an utterly obscene sight as you kept swallowing the entire length of him.
And then you felt him starting to shake,  his body trembling while the grip on your hair tightened at every stroke of your tongue. You could tell he was on the brink of exploding, yet you didn't want him to finish inside your mouth, so you pulled away just as quickly as you began.
You could tell he was about to whine a protest, but he immediately stopped himself as you climbed on his lap, gripping his cock in your hand and guiding it towards your aching pussy. But then you stopped, eyes meeting with his, your voice softening. "Should I use a condom?"
"You can..." he mumbled as if it was hard to even articulate any words when his tip was already brushing against your wetness. "You can do whatever you want."
You lingered for a moment, grinding yourself against the tip of him, getting wetter as your arousal dripped out. "I want to feel you."
The whimper he let out was loud, almost pornographic. "I want to feel you too."
Then you began to slide his cock into you, slowly, taking your time to draw the moment out. Your body went tense in an instant, you could hardly handle the way his size was pushing into you.
"Fuck, you're stretching me," you moaned the words, tossing your head back while closing your eyes. The content sigh leaving your lips was loud when his tip finally hit that soft spot. You had never felt this full before and you wanted to soak in the way he was filling you so deep, so you buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent as you sit there with his cock stuffed inside of you.
For you, it felt nice, but for him, it was torture. As warm as you were, as tight as you clenched him, he still needed more. With urgency, he reached for your body before his eager hands landed on your hips, a groan of desperation built in his throat as you stayed there, not moving a muscle. "Can... can you move?"
You kissed a spot below his ear. "Why should I?"
"I-I..."
"Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want." Your tone was soft, but you didn't drop the entirety of your dominance. "Do you want me to ride you? Is that it? You want me to fuck you senseless?"
"Yes," he rasped out as if he had been holding his breath. "Please..." 
You gripped him by the throat. "Say it."
"Pl-please fuck me," he gasped, gulping for air.
You smiled.
"Good boy," you replied. You began moving against his cock, grinding yourself over his lap, feeling him fill you up and hit deep inside you. It was almost too much but you remained focused. Your palms pressed to his shoulders as you pushed yourself up, moving your hips against his body.
He could feel you squeezing him. Every roll of your hips, every flutter of your walls, and every moan that rumbled from your chest. His huge palms wandered over the small planes of your back, caressing every dip and roll of your body. His eyes glazed over to where you were connected, the sight of your pussy clenching around every inch of him lulled him into a bewitching trance.
Soon you found a somewhat steady rhythm, circling your hips and grinding down on him faster, picking up your pace. You felt your heart drumming against your ribcage and the concoction of arousal running down your thigh and dripping onto his legs.
"God, you're going to make me come so quick," you cried, your hand lowering between your thighs to reach your clit. With two fingers, you began to massage your flesh while bouncing down his cock, riding him, feeling the tip so deep within your walls. You let loose, moaning and whimpering. He couldn't help but groan, feeling your walls tighten around him, feeling your juices drip down his groin.
You felt him thrust upward towards you, following your pace, and a second orgasm started building low in your stomach. You felt it everywhere, from the tips of your fingers to the edge of your toes. It thrummed every nerve, vibrating you to the bone. "Fuck, I'm close."
His breath quickened as he felt your walls clenching him, his eyes brushing every inch of your body. You were such a sight to see. He was entranced by the way you were thrusting yourself on his cock, your breasts bouncing from the movement, your taut nipples begging for attention. He couldn't stop himself when he suddenly pulled you in, momentarily surprising you, and sucked onto your nipple hungrily.
You cried out when you felt his teeth softly tugging your nub. You were supposed to be in control, and you still wanted to keep your dominance, but it was hard to when he suddenly planted his feet on the bed and thrust his hips into you at a mind-numbing speed. Harshly. Roughly. Violently.
"Fucking hell, Spencer," you moaned, holding onto his shoulders. "I-I'm gonna—"
His fingers dug harshly into the tender skin of your sides, his hips were bucking up uncontrollably, desperate to reach the blissful relief. His tone became ragged as he groaned what sounded like your name entwined. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that began uncoiling in his entire body. You grabbed onto his unruly hair, tugging it back roughly before smearing open-mouthed kisses all over his throat and collarbones, voicing out your whimpers right into his ear.
That was enough for him—he came undone, allowing his muscles to contract one last time as he spilled into you, filling you completely with warmth with one last thrust. You followed him with a scream, wrenched from your throat so roughly it seared its way out of your lungs and into the air. Your movements became sloppy and uneven, clinging onto him as you chased your own high.
The room smelt of sex. It was your first thought when you finally felt your body relaxing, your mind coming back to its senses. Never, not even once in your life, have you ever considered kissing Spencer willingly.
Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he had the most amazing eyes, and yes, his soft demeanor did attract you the first time you met him, but that was it. He was simply your coworker, one you didn't know that well, one who seemed to make a big deal out of spending the night with you... and ironically, one who had you shaking in pleasure.
You weren't sure what would happen next. At first, you thought your presence ticked him off in the wrong way because you were the new, inexperienced member of the team... but now you couldn't help but speculate the way he acted differently towards you had something to do with what just happened.
Maybe he didn't think of you as a mere colleague... maybe he thought of you as someone potentially more? You could be right, or you could be wrong, and there was only one way to find out. You softly let your fingers brush his cheek.
"You need to take me out on a proper date," you suggested through the silence. Then a smile bloomed on your face when you felt him dip his head in your palm.
The nod he gave you couldn't be anymore faster.
3K notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 13 days
Note
hey if you don’t mind, I’ve been struggling with a lot of anxiety and it makes my chest hurt a bunch so maybe you could rwrite something like that with anyone you’d like, ofc if you’d rather not that’s totally.
have a wonderful day dearie
Thanks for requesting baby, I'm really sorry you're dealing with that! I hope maybe you're feeling a bit better by now.
cw: anxiety, chest pain
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
Remus knows you mainly watch this show because he likes it, and yet he’s dozing off. After a long shift at the hospital, the clashing of swords sounds about as lulling as a thunderstorm outside the bedroom window to his tired ears, and his head slowly slumps backwards against the couch cushion. When snuggle closer to his side, head needling its way almost into his armpit, he thinks you’re trying to get him to wake up. 
“Sorry.” His voice comes out raspy, drowsiness clinging to his vocal chords like a paste. 
You pull away, looking up at him. “Oh no,” you murmur, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” 
The guilt in your voice has him responding instinctively, “It’s okay.” Remus drapes an arm across your shoulders, encouraging you back to where you were. “I was only resting my eyes.” It’s a flimsy excuse and you both know it, so he moves on quickly. “What’s up, hm?” 
“I was wondering if I could have a hug,” you say quietly, tentatively, your eyes not quite on his, “if that’s okay.” 
Remus checks himself before he can look too surprised. “Of course it’s okay,” he says, tightening his grip on you. 
Granted permission, you go all out. You turn your body into his, both arms wrapping tight around his midsection and face burrowing in the soft material of his sweater. Remus adjusts his hold to get a better grip on you. He brings his other hand to your head, cupping the back firmly. 
Asking for affection like this, so explicitly, is unexpected from you. It makes Remus feel like he’s just had a cup of tea, spreading warmth through his insides and leaving a pleasant aftertaste on his tongue. You hate to need him, but he loves to let you. He’ll take any chance to take care of you. He likes to think a secretive little part of you likes to be cared for, too. 
The exhaustion in his bones melts into something heavy and fond as he pets the back of your head. “Everything alright, sweetheart?” 
You hum into his armpit. “Just felt like I needed this, for some reason.” 
“Any reason’s good enough for me,” Remus half-jokes, dropping a kiss onto the crown of your head. “Did you have a long day, too?” 
“Not really.” Your voice dips into a lower register, disgruntled and bemused. You turn your face up so you can see him but don’t pull away, scooting closer to tighten your hold. “Nothing’s happened, I just feel a bit off, I guess. My chest hasn’t stopped hurting all afternoon.” 
He can see the regret in your expression when his eyebrows go up, and Remus laughs. 
“Oi, what’s that look about?” 
“I’m not trying to put you on the clock.” 
“No,” he says, smiling as he kisses your hairline, “You’re not, honey.” But he does reach for the remote, pausing the TV and silencing your background noise. 
Your eyes narrow. “You’ve got that serious look, though.” 
“That’s just my face, I can’t really help it.” Admittedly, chest pain worries him. Remus is prone to worrying about anything that ails you; it's where his job and his boyfriend duties collide. Still, he doubts you’ve been having a heart attack for the entire afternoon, so he’s not going to frighten you by telling you about the vast number of things chest pain can point to. “Where does it hurt? Can you show me?” 
You sigh and lean back, putting space between your chest and Remus’ side. “Sort of here,” you say, flattening your palm over your sternum. 
“Is it a concentrated pain,” he asks, “or more of an ache?” 
“More like an ache,” you admit. “It’s sort of, like, burning? But that sounds more dramatic than it really is.” 
He ignores the last part of your statement, setting his hand on your chest and pushing down gently. “Does that make it worse?” 
You shake your head, and Remus hums. You haven’t been coughing; he would have noticed. He works two fingers under your jaw. 
“What else feels weird, sweetheart?” 
“I’m not sure,” you tell him, starting to sound a bit raw. “I just feel…not right, you know? Is that bad?” 
“No, I don’t think so,” he says, letting his fingers drop from your pulse point. ”I think you’re mostly okay.” He uses both hands to pull you into his lap. “C’mere, baby dove.” 
You seem far from unhappy at being moved, pushing your face into Remus’ neck and letting him rest his chin atop your head. “What?” you ask. 
“Did you have coffee this afternoon?” 
“Yeah.” You sound cautious. “Why?” 
“And did you eat before?” 
“Remus.” Your warning tone is undercut by unease. 
He kisses your head in apology. “I think your chest hurts because you’re anxious, honey,” he says. “The caffeine probably made it worse.” 
You go quiet for a minute. Remus rubs your back, sorry for the invisibility of your hurt but relieved that its cause isn’t something more sinister. When you pull away, you’re frowning. 
“I don’t think it’s that,” you say. “It’s never felt like this before.” 
Remus feels his mouth slant in sympathy. “I think coffee without eating is already a bad idea, but then if you got anxious and we started watching a stressful show,” he tries to convey some apology in his expression, “it might have made your nerves feel worse than you’re used to.” 
“I think I’m only nervous because my chest hurts.” You blow out a breath. “It’s kind of a chicken and egg thing, yeah?” 
Remus hums, running his hand up the length of your spine. He can feel your heart beating beneath his palm. “Humor me for a minute?” 
You sigh again. It looks strenuous. “Sure.” 
“Breathe with me,” he instructs, folding you back towards his front. You go willingly, though you seem tenser now than before, your hands nearly rigid on his back. “In for eight.” 
He listens to be sure you’re doing it with him, feeling your chest expand against his own. He lets his palm lie still beneath your shoulder blades, sneaking a gauge of your heart rate. 
“Hold for eight.” 
Remus feels your nose press into his collar. He turns his lips into your forehead, holding his lungs at their full capacity and knowing that if it’s difficult for him, it has to be considerably worse for you. 
By the time you’re finished breathing out it's a relief for you both, and you turn your face up to his with a bit less skepticism. 
“That was hard,” you admit. 
Remus bites back an I-told-you-so, but he knows his smile must say enough of it when you roll your eyes good-naturedly. 
“Why don’t I change it to something a bit lighter,” he says, nodding towards the TV. “We can do more breathing during the commercial breaks, yeah?” 
You appear to consider this. “And we can keep cuddling?” 
Remus’ chuckle lures a smile out of you. He’s exceedingly gratified to see it. “That was never up for debate.” 
531 notes · View notes
sixosix · 7 months
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can you do an aether x reader lil one shot please!!! my baby gets no love ;( I'm fine with any story or plot but maybe one where they've been travel buddies for a while and his feelings have just been bottled up over time and he just explodes in to a confession and then some cute fluff from there!!!!!!
a/n wc 1.6k there are tears in my eyes as i write this i love aether sonmuch. also sorry if this is all over the place i was trying so hard not to turn it into another 10k word fic…. ft. lyney
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aether doesn’t vividly recall the moment his feelings blossomed. there was no pinpointed moment, only all of it growing restless inside him.
he likes to keep his team to four people maximum, oftentimes none at all—just him and paimon to worry about as they move from region to region, friends made yet no proper strings attached. it’s for everyone’s sake, as aether doesn’t plan on staying too long in one place. that’s how it should’ve been.
you appeared one day, demanding to take you in his team. just for liyue and then you can separate ways, you said.
“i’m visiting my awfully quiet lover to break his silence. i need to figure out why i’ve stopped receiving letters,” you explained, blinding him with your bigger-than-life personality.
and because aether is a weak, weak man to people who don’t know how to back down, he agreed, albeit hesitantly. “alright,” he said in defeat. “just liyue?”
“just liyue,” you affirmed, beaming as he’s accepted you probably easier than you expected.
just liyue is a lie, and he should’ve known it the moment he had to confirm it. he didn’t bother with formal introductions and keeping conversations, knowing he wouldn’t see you again anyway. it didn’t help that paimon adores you, expressing her loud disappointment when you have to part ways with them.
paimon floated lower than usual. aether sighed. “should’ve known you’d grow to love someone who spoils you with sweet madame more than me.”
“hmph! y/n’s nicer to paimon than you!”
but he does see you again some time later, facing a large tree, kicking it out of frustration. it’s pouring heavily; your clothes are soaked.
“am i scary?” you asked when aether and paimon approached you, staring ahead, fists trembling.
“what’s wrong?! did something bad happen?” paimon fluttered around you nervously, unsure if she could touch you.
“he’s not dead, at least,” you said bitterly. “just too cowardly to tell me that he doesn’t love me anymore. i suppose it was better breaking up face-to-face than through letters.” you sighed bitterly, shoulders hiked up to your ears as a fresh wave of quiet tears washed over you, muted by the rain. “this is embarrassing, getting dumped because i was too much.”
“it’s not. you came all the way from mondstadt just to see him. didn’t he at least care about that?” aether asked, which might’ve just been his longest sentence yet. why were you out here soaking? if it were him, he wouldn’t have been so rude to leave you astray during a thunderstorm.
“i can’t force him, if he doesn’t want to see me. i’ll be alright, i promise.” you rest your forehead against the bark of the tree, water sliding off your cheeks—aether isn’t sure if it’s the rain or your tears.
he understands, possibly more than anyone.
and aether—still a weak, weak man when it came to people breaking down in front of him, knowing what it’s like to lose someone so dear to you—gently says, “xiangling told us there’s an event holding place here later. you’re coming with us.”
just liyue was already a warning in itself that it would never be just as that.
you weave yourself in his life as if you were always there, fitting in like you haven’t met him and paimon just a few days ago. he tries to convince himself that he’s doing this to cheer you up, but you’ve been making him smile more than they do to you.
he would turn to his side and see you feeding him a chicken-mushroom skewer after a short battle, insisting even when aether says he’s not as injured as you may think. he would turn to his side and see you and paimon laughing over something he missed and find himself grinning as well.
he would turn to his side when you tug on his sleeve, shyly asking if he’s willing to take you to inazuma as well because you didn’t want to stay in liyue if they weren’t here anymore.
“sure,” aether would say. he’s a weak man, and you were holding on to his cape, looking so adorable that aether wanted to melt on the spot. but that’s a normal reaction to cute things, probably.
taking you to inazuma turns into bringing you along to sumeru, then eventually fontaine, until everyone is convinced you’re a staple in aether’s adventures: aether, paimon, and y/n.
this is what it’s like to have a good team, aether persuades himself. a good team, a useful asset, aether reminds himself sternly as you slice a ruin cruiser off of existence with fierce anger in your eyes and a stick of tricolor dango in your mouth. you wave at him after, beaming, and his heart does something weird.
and now, when some of his friends suggest that he lays you off even just for a day so he can have three other people who work together seamlessly with him, he dismisses it quickly—without thinking. he already works best with you by his side. if they want to come along with him, they have to accept they’re coming along with you just as well.
“thanks for letting me join you,” you whisper one night, lying on the grass and watching the stars with him. you turn your head and meet his eyes, smiling softly.
“of course,” aether says. of course, because now he can’t imagine what it’s like to not have you with him. “i’m the only one who can handle how scary you are.”
you scoff, gently punching his arm as he laughs. “shut up, idiot. you know what i mean.”
i know, aether wants to say. but would that be too much? aether doesn’t want you to think he’s trying to replace someone important in your life this quickly.
you are scary. you’re terrifying him with all these unwanted feelings he doesn’t know what to do with. but aether wasn’t lying, either—he can handle fear just as well.
and now, as aether watches lyney grin and kiss the back of your palm, aether’s chest burns with something unpleasant, sitting in his stomach and urging him to take action. a rock under his shoe. he does not like it, not one bit.
“uhh,” paimon shifts nervously mid-air. “paimon thinks you should stop glaring daggers into lyney before he notices.”
“glaring daggers? i’m not glaring daggers,” aether hisses. his fingers are starting to ache with how painfully he’s clutching his sword. “no daggers here…” he curses as he watches you grow increasingly flustered.
the sight startles him. not your expression, not lyney’s clear provocation, but aether’s stance towards it.
“i thought we’re friends with lyney again?” paimon asks, terribly confused.
“the best of friends,” aether says, marching over to the scene. paimon makes a disbelieving noise.
lyney smirks knowingly as aether gently tugs on your arm. “oh,” lyney says, all sly, more of a fox than a cat, “i didn’t know you were already spoken for. i do apologize for the misunderstanding.”
you glance between an amused lyney and an irked aether, dazed. “i’m not…?”
“your jealous boyfriend says otherwise,” lyney snorts as aether bristles.
aether glares heatedly at lyney, even as the latter backs away with a smug grin. “y/n, let’s go. there’s nothing else to do here.” he’s being rude. he doesn’t care. his mind is blank—or maybe it’s running miles per minute, and he struggles to keep up.
and because you always listen to aether, you let him drag you off, nearly failing to wave goodbye to a chuckling lyney. lyney calls for paimon, distracting her as aether continues walking away from the scene.
you turn to aether, barely able to keep up with his hurried steps. “whoa, whoa, hey, aether—aether, are you okay? your face is so red.” you touch his cheek, and he crumbles. “aether.”
he halts, frowning at the ground. frustrated.
“aether, is there something wrong?”
that’s the thing. aether doesn’t know what’s wrong. he was content with watching you from afar—content with your stars slowly aligning with his as he stands back and watches it happen. he was content with not doing anything about it. but not doing anything about it would mean everyone else thinks you haven’t got aether wrapped around your finger.
“sorry,” aether says. to the painful beating of his heart, restless with unexplained fury. “i didn’t—”
“…idiot.” you always tell him that. you’re the only one who calls him that, but he knows that were they to try, he wouldn’t let it slide so easily. “it’s okay to admit you’re jealous. it’s cute.”
it is not lyney’s flirtations that tip aether over; it’s the sweet smile you give him, the gentleness of your gaze, and your face so close to aether’s that you and him share the same breath. what tips him over is all of it crashing down on him, as daunting as a fight, as abrupt as the beat of his heart:
oh. oh. is that it?
aether doesn’t vividly recall the moment you wormed your way in. maybe it was the moment you jumped down from a tree branch and scared the wits out of paimon, only to demand nervously he take you. maybe it was the moment he softens when your shoulders shake and rain pours relentlessly overhead. maybe it was the stab of jealousy seeing someone else try to steal you away from him when you so obviously belong to him as he belongs to you.
it doesn’t matter.
“i want you,” aether says, then blinks when you do a startled take. “no—no. i mean. i… like you. and i want you to stay. here. not with them. not anyone else.”
“stay right in front of you?”
“in front, beside—doesn’t matter.” aether grows weak, limp as he presses his forehead against yours. “i just want you.”
“okay,” you smile, tipping your chin to kiss his cheek. his heart soars. “that’s all i needed to hear.”
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prettyfastcars · 3 months
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you're wrong but you're so much fun | Lewis x Reader
Summary: With your mom and his dad dating, of course you would be spending Christmas and New Year under the same roof as Lewis. As annoying as your ‘stepbrother’ was, you often found yourself unable to resist his charm. But enough is enough you decided, you were done with him acting like he was superior. So you found yourself a guy to casually date for a little while, to distract you, but also to help you win whatever game was going on between you and Lewis. And the latter was not happy at all when he found out about the other man in your life. 
Themes: stepbrother!lewis, smut, jealous!lewis, bondage, mild degrading kink, dom!reader
a/n: if you want, you can read part 1 and part 2 !! Also, I’ll see you after new years now, bye bye <3
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“Who were you on the phone with last night?” 
You weren’t even done filling your plate up at the breakfast table when Lewis hit you with the accusatory tone. 
Both your parents were in the cabin this morning. Maybe the kitchen if they hadn’t moved since you last saw them just minutes ago. You could hear faint whispers of their voices and laughter, so chances were that they could still hear you and Lewis. 
However, since it was just you and Lewis at the table, of course he would resort to being mean and a bully for no reason. 
“A friend.” You replied, “Why?” 
Lewis sighed, “Because your bedroom is right next to mine and I can’t sleep if you’re giggling all night.” He sounded like the brat you thought he was. 
“Fine,” You rolled your eyes, “I’ll giggle quietly from now on.” You paused for a moment then added, “Although I don’t remember you minding me being loud that night when you comforted me during the thunderstorm, or the other day when you were giving me fashion advice in my bathroom.” 
He glared at you. “Shut your mouth.” 
You smirked at him. Even threw in a little wink. 
— 
Lewis ignored you the whole day. But that was until your mom suddenly asked you at lunch, “Hey honey, when can we meet that boy you told me about?” 
The silence which followed was heavy. 
You answered, “I don’t see why you need to meet him,” You said, purposely ignoring the confused look from Lewis, “We’re not seriously dating, it’s just… you know? A casual, temporary thing.” You ended by shoving food in your mouth. 
Lewis cleared his voice and tried to act as natural, calm and not confused as he asked, “Where did you meet this boy?” 
“Online,” You answered, and gave him a few details he didn’t ask for. “He’s staying at a nearby cabin with his friends so we’ve just been casually talking.” You added, “We have plans to meet up soon but our schedules just aren’t aligning.” 
You locked eyes with Lewis after that. You could hear your mother saying how it would be a good idea to invite the boy over when you would be having a bonfire soon, but you barely paid attention. The look on Lewis’ face, the realisation that he did not in fact control everything you do was priceless. 
You had the upperhand in this game for once, and you loved it. 
The two of you didn’t interact much after that. But you could feel Lewis’ eyes on you the whole time you were around each other. For some reason, even when you were in different corners of a room, he would still glare at you. 
Neither of you ended up even remotely close to one another that night. Which was good because he was getting on your nerves with all that staring. 
However, the following night, Lewis walked into your room all ready to piss you off some more. Maybe even to remind you that you can’t just be messing around with some random boy. But then he froze the moment he entered your room and shut the door behind him. 
There you were, standing in front of the full-length mirror next to your bed, wearing nothing but dark green, lacy underwear, and a matching excuse of a bra. See-through all of it, looking like it was some sizes too small for the amount of skin that was on display. 
But that wasn’t what bothered him. No. What bothered him was that you had your phone in your hand. He also noticed the polaroid camera on the bed. 
He saw red for a brief moment. His brain short-circuited. Fuck. 
Meanwhile you were the opposite of ashamed or embarrassed when you saw him. Having him in your room at this time, wearing nothing but his usual grey sweatpants, meant that your parents were out with their friends. 
Which means Lewis probably thought he was gonna act like he owns and controls you again. But you were ready this time. You’d had enough. 
“Oh hello there.” You said, nonchalantly as if he didn’t just walk in on you basically taking nudes. You refused to seem inferior to him anymore. He wanted to play this game? Fine, but you were determined to win this round. 
Lewis finally blinked, breaking out of whatever reverie he was in, and said, “What the fuck are you doing?” 
You turned to face him, confidently. He tried to avoid looking at you but then he gave in. Eyes roaming all over your body. You shivered for a moment, physically feeling his stare. But then you refused to let him win again. 
“You really should knock before coming into a lady’s room, Lewis.” You spoke with fake defencelessness. “Now look, you’ve caught me all vulnerable.” You pouted a little, knowing you were pissing him off. 
“You–,” He stopped talking and sighed, shaking his head. He looked at you, then at the phone in your hand, then at the polaroid camera and the photographs on the bed. “Stop this shit, alright? Else I’m gonna tell your mom.” 
You chuckled. He sounded like a kid. “Oh Lewis,” You cooed, “I’m a grown woman with a job, who earns her own money.” You stated, “If I want to take pictures of myself in lingerie that I bought, I don’t see why anyone, least of all you, should have a problem with that.” 
Lewis finally moved away from the door, stepping further into your space. Getting gradually closer to you he said, “Right.” He admitted. “I don’t have a problem with you taking pictures of yourself, but…” He leaned closer, you stood your ground even if seeing his broad shoulders, big muscles, tattoos made part of you want to roll over and offer yourself like a soft puppy for him to play with. “Who the fuck are these pictures being sent to?” 
You gave him a smug look, “That’s none of your–,” 
He cut you off by grabbing you by the throat and pulled you closer, squeezing just a little. You’d be lying if you said your body didn’t instantly react to that. You felt the need to clench your thighs together. 
“Oh I think it is.” He spoke calmly even though there was a fiery jealousy in his pretty brown eyes. “You think I haven't noticed?” He questioned. “Texting all the time, smiling at your phone, even using your phone at the dinner table.” He listed all that he had noted. “You’re gonna stop talking to that guy.” 
You scoffed, even though he had a hand wrapped around your throat, you sassed, “You can’t tell me what to do, big bro.” 
He raised an eyebrow at you, “Can’t I?” 
You persisted, “No.” You whispered, “I am done letting you boss me around.” You caught the slight frown on his handsome face. Gods… why did he have to be so handsome? 
“Is that so, little sis?” He teased, pushing you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of your bed. “You’re gonna talk back, now? Hmm? You’re gonna argue with big brother?”
That mocking tone of his was pissing you off. And he was much stronger than you so the only way you could overpower him would be if you caught him off guard. You moved when he least expected it. You twisted the two of you around and pushed him down onto the bed instead. 
Lewis frowned when he fell on his back on your bed. He went to get up but you were already straddling him at that point so he couldn’t get up. He didn’t want to either. This was new, he had never had you be on top of him before. 
You wrapped your hands around his ridiculously muscular, attractive neck this time, pinning him down onto the bed. Lewis was partially confused but partially turned on. You could feel it. The erection in his pants pressing up against you. 
You stared down at him, ignoring the way his hands felt free to touch and rub and caress your skin. Ignoring how good it felt, you said, “I’m done letting you treat me like I’m some petulant little girl you need to keep in check.” 
He smirked, “Well you’re acting like one right now.” He said, grabbing onto your hips, “Just let me–,” 
You cut him off, “You talk too much, you know that? And your hands wander too much as well.” You thought about it for a moment, then came up with a plan. Glaring down at Lewis you said, “Stay put.” You warned as you went to get off of him. But seeing his smirk and knowing he would try to get the upper hand again, you had no choice but to grab his hand and guide it in between your legs. 
Lewis frowned, mumbled a quiet “Fuck…” when he felt your warmth, your wetness. All for him. His fingers felt free to feel around down there. You let him, for now. 
“I said, stay put.” You repeated. “Be a good boy, and only then can you keep playing with this. You hear me?” You whispered, smirking at the look on his face. He was surprised of course, but he was into it. 
So he rolled his eyes and dropped back down onto your bed. Folding his muscular hands behind his head, he waited. You got off the bed but then stood and admired his physique for a moment. 
Golden skin. Tattoos on display. Braids untied. Muscles bulging from places you didn’t know the human body had muscles… Lewis of course didn’t mind your ogling. He loved the attention. 
You forced yourself to move upon seeing the smug look on his face. Who does he think he is? A handsome man with the body of a Greek god, that's who. 
You rummaged around your drawers until you found what you’d been looking for. And when you brought it over to your bed, Lewis began chuckling. 
“Aww what are you gonna do with that? Tie me up with a pretty bow?” He taunted, looking at the white ribbon strips in your hands. 
You smirked. “Did you know I know how to do shibari ties? You’re lucky there’s no actual rope around.” Lewis’ smile dropped when you climbed on top of him again. You chuckled, “Scared, big bro?” You teased. 
For once, he didn’t fight back. Mostly because he was also lowkey excited to see where this was going. 
You moved up his body, straddling his chest as you grabbed his wrists and tied them together with the white ribbons. Once secured, Lewis let out a breathless chuckle when you then went to tie his wrists to the metal headboard. “You’re insane,” He commented. “You really think I can’t get out of that?” 
“I’d like to see you try.” You scoffed, confident in your skills. “The ties are strong, but if you struggle too much, the silk ribbon will surely burn your skin. We don’t want that, do we?” 
Lewis glared at you, soft lips parted as he breathed slightly more heavily. 
You even added a little bow to complete the look. “There,” You said, satisfied with how strong the ties were. Not tight, but definitely locked. “You wanna see how it looks?” You grabbed the polaroid camera which was on the bed and took a picture. The photograph came out and you waved it around, blowing on it. Taking your sweet time and ignoring the gorgeous man under you. “That’ll take a while to develop, but trust me, you’ve never looked better.” You winked at him. 
“You’re gonna regret this, little sis.” He whispered dangerously, hissing in pleasure as you dragged your nails lightly up and down his exposed torso. Tracing his abs and his tattoos with the tip of your finger. Running your hands all over his chest. “Damn you.” He spoke through gritted teeth as you dug your nails in his sides playfully. 
You reached down to lower his sweatpants, and as you did, his cock stood proud and tall. Already leaking at the tip and you had barely touched him yet.
“Think you can always have your way, don’t you?” Your voice barely above a whisper. “Walking into my room whenever you feel like it, with that pretty face and sinful body…” You leaned down to kiss that compass tattoo in the middle of his chest. 
He let out a breathy laugh, “So you do think I’m pretty.” 
You looked up and glared at him. “Don’t make me gag you to shut you up, Lewis.” You warned. 
He smirked, scoffing. “Yeah right.” 
Part of you wondered if he was doing it on purpose.
“You know what? I don’t wanna hear you talk.” You got off of him and quickly took your underwear off before straddling him again. His cock remained hard, untouched and leaking. Looking irresistible. But you needed him to shut up first so you balled up the dark green material and shoved it into his mouth. 
Lewis laughed as you did, fully prepared to spit it back out. But that was until you grabbed the remaining ribbons and tied it around his head, keeping the balled up thong inside his mouth as you tied yet another bow at the front of his now gagged mouth. 
You picked up the polaroid camera again and took another picture of him. “Smile,” You taunted, capturing him tied up with white bows and gagged. “So pretty,” You murmured as you put both camera and photograph aside. 
He looked up at you with unrestrained lust in his warm eyes. He wasn’t fighting back as hard as you had imagined he would, you noticed. 
You smiled triumphantly as you rolled your hips against him, feeling his hard cock against your wet inner thighs. “Oh fuck…” You whispered, smiling when you heard his muffled groan. You could feel that familiar tingle in between your legs. And you were ready to just fuck him but, you wanted to mess with him first. 
You gave him a soft kiss on the bow right on top of his mouth, he struggled against the knots at his wrists, but you ignored him and reached down to wrap your hand around his cock. He groaned, closing his eyes and thrusting up into your fist. 
You lazily stroked his length, up and down. Your thumb rubbed his tip slowly, making him groan as you kissed your way down his neck. You kissed his skin leisurely, not rushing even though he was squirming under you, his moans and groans muffled. 
“You see how nice it is, when you shut the fuck up and stop being mean to me?” You teased, biting down on his neck while your hand moved up and down his dripping cock. You liked the sounds of his muffled moans. He was somehow more vocal now that he was gagged. 
Lewis groaned and opened his eyes to look at you. His eyes were darker, his gaze more intense and he tried to thrust his cock into your hand but then gave up because each time he did, you would just let go of his length. So he just took whatever you gave him.
At one point you checked in with him, asking, “Does anything hurt?” You pointed at his tied wrist and mouth. He glared at you with annoyance and desire in his eyes and silently shook his head. “Good,” You gave him another soft kiss on the nose before continuing. 
You released his cock, kissing down his body and bringing your mouth closer to where he desperately needed you. You smirked when you felt him squirm even more when you kissed him on his hip bones and all over his lower abdomen. 
You heard him groan, a muffled “Please…” escaping his mouth. 
You giggled at the sound of that, “Oh what’s that? Was that a ‘please’?” You watched him for a moment. Watched how he rolled his eyes at you, thrusting his hips up just trying to get you to touch him. “You’re learning your manners already, I see.” 
Then without any warning, you took him into your mouth, all of him. Slowly. Lewis’ loud, muffled moans filled the room. You sucked on his tip, your tongue teasing him as you felt your body tingling with need too.
You kept your eyes on his perfect face as you sucked on his cock. He closed his eyes momentarily, as he tilted his head back. He looked even more ravishing, completely at your mercy for a change. It made you feel powerful. 
He twitched against your tongue and you tasted some of his pre cum. You slowed down, not wanting to make him come just yet. You licked his cock from bottom to top while your hands toyed with his balls. Lewis moaned, his voice muffled still, making him sound needy and desperate. 
You dragged your tongue over the slit on this tip very lazily, causing him to thrust his hips up. You were driving him crazy and you loved it. 
Lewis moaned even louder the moment you pulled your mouth away, lifted up and sank down on him, your wet warmth wrapping all around him making him groan. Your walls clenched around him, making both of you let out guttural moans. 
You leaned in and kissed his closed eyelids, cupping his face in your hands as you slowly rocked back and forth, feeling him deep inside you. “Fuck… why do you have to feel so good, huh?” You chuckled when he tried to pull against the white ribbon strips, but all in vain. “Guess I did successfully tie you up with a bow, didn’t I?” 
You heard a rare whine from him. He sounded so vulnerable, and desperate that it made you speed up as you rode his cock. Your walls gripping him tightly and making him get louder and louder each time. You watched him whine and smirked at his helplessness. 
“Not so cocky now, are you?” You teased. “Beg for it, come on.” You said more sternly, whispering against his mouth, lips hovering above the white bow. “Oh what? You can’t?” You laughed, “You can’t even beg, can you?”
Lewis groaned louder. His desperation was quite clear. And he began to thrust his hips up trying to match your pace. But you messed with him even then, you slowed down your pace whenever he got too excited, and you sped up when he least expected it.
Soon, Lewis was just a moaning mess under you. Cock throbbing inside you, moans muffled, his hands just gave up trying to break free from your ties. But fuck he was a vision… 
Lewis got loud, growling as you teased him, riding his cock perfectly. There was nothing else he could focus on in that moment. 
You eventually gave in. “Are you ready to come for me?” You asked, looking deep into his eyes. His pleading stare told you he was. “Go on then, come inside me, big bro.” 
He was so close anyway that he came right after. His moans begging you to slow down when you kept riding his sensitive, throbbing cock even after he came. His heart raced, he was breathing hard and fast as you came as well, clenching around him violently. 
You caught your breath for a minute, then quickly untied his hands and pulled the thong from his mouth. You leaned in to kiss him, slow and gentle this time. “You did so good,” You murmured against his soft lips. “Who knew you’d be such a good boy the moment you’re tied up?” 
Lewis kissed you back lazily. Quiet, for once. He didn’t have a sassy reply this time. His hands hesitated to wander this time, only barely brushing against your thighs. 
You kissed his warm, damp chest, murmuring, “If you want us to keep doing this, you’re gonna stop being mean all the time, alright?” You looked up to see him watching you with a strangely calm look on his face. 
“Fine,” He muttered, like it was an inconvenience to him. 
You scoffed, “Look at you pretending you didn’t like being tied up.” He avoided your eyes immediately and you couldn’t help but laugh. But then you remembered… 
Straddling him once more, you reached for the polaroid photographs. “Aww,” You cooed, showing them to him, “Look how pretty you look, white bows and all.” 
Lewis just groaned and shoved you aside. You laughed as you landed beside him on your bed. You expected him to get up and walk out of your room but he stayed put. Processing, maybe. 
“Here,” You handed the polaroids to him as you tangled your legs with his upon turning on your side to look at him, “Keep them.” 
Lewis reluctantly took them then sighed and said, “I hate you.” 
You checked the mental scoreboard and there it was, a first win for you. “I know you don’t.” You winked at him. 
681 notes · View notes
yuellii · 8 months
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flawless night, forevermore
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feat. ayato, baizhu, alhaitham, childe, kaveh, raiden ei ( separate )
𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 they are so obviously in love with you
( or, in which i tie them to a taylor song i’ve been crazing over, but you don’t have to know the songs to read / understand )
note. reader’s gender unspecified, no other warnings
> part one / part two ( more characters )
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KAMISATO AYATO. lover
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His lips curled up with a fathomless fondness he did not even notice about himself. His ticklish gaze, his admiring eyes, his comforting silence—such a poor, poor man drowning in his hopelessness, falling love struck into the night.
Even atop the dewy grass that stained his carefully tailored clothes, he paid no mind to the mess as he preferred to hear you talk instead. The intelligence of a Kamisato was long forgone in the melody of your voice, and perhaps you had strum his heartstrings too much to the point he loses his senses. He forgets a lot of things about himself when he’s with you, perhaps at one point, even his own name.
Kamisato, the name that ties him to a lifetime of formality and not a single night of rest. A dreary lifetime that does not allow him to learn the wonders of love. But oh, how he loves you.
“I’ve always wanted one of those cute little tea tables,” you muttered into the cool winds under the glowing moon. Your finger absentmindedly traced an oval into the air, a motion that had his head following your invisible drawing. “We can sit together in the mornings and have tea before work.”
“Then we’ll get one,” Ayato affirmed. He failed to notice how his own grin had widened, simply as an automatic reaction from seeing your pleased smile at his response. “Little cushions for us to sit in, too,” he added on. “You know those round ones? We can have them in our favorite colors.”
Look at him, blushing over silly cushions.
There’s a dazzling haze in his eyes when he’s like this. It’s a spark that never runs out once ignited, for he has a history of rambling when he’s with you. “There is this porcelain tea set we can get, which has a pattern I know you’ll like,” he’ll say, further jumping to “And it comes in a set of four—we can always invite Ayaka and Thoma over to drink with us.” He’ll go on and on like this, fantasizing of a life where you lived together, happily ever after.
He’s imagined this for eons in his head. Such innocent-presenting ideas and remarks, but it’s obvious in the way he talks so fast. It’s ridiculously evident the more excited he gets as the night stretches on, that he’s been daydreaming of the moment you move in with him, so he may love you every day.
All he asks is to be forever yours, for as long as time permits.
⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
BAIZHU. sparks fly
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It almost never rained in Liyue.
But his words were such a booming thunderstorm that no water droplet could ever compare, even amidst this cold, grey afternoon. And only when he finally blew you away like a thin stack of cards, did he feel a sharp sense of emptiness at the sight of you running off into the pouring rain.
Baizhu admitted that you were a burden to him. Boring, unintelligent, annoying—that you were a hindrance to be around. You were only a distraction to Qiqi, and more importantly, a bothersome presence to him.
It took all his willpower just to spit such venom from his tongue straight to your face—all his might just to convince you that seeing him is a bad idea. And yet, you still called him a liar.
“You mean none of those words,” you sharply inhaled via short, speechless breaths. He could tell you were breaking down from his hateful speech, but to his guilt, it was exactly what he wanted to see from you. “You’re just trying to drive me away again,” you spat out. You were trying to convince yourself: that fact alone was clear to him. But the longer he stayed quiet despite biting back the truth—biting back that he has fallen so immensely deep in love with you—you began to doubt yourself.
But the moment he watched your figure break down past this storm, he immediately crumbled with a sense of guilt much stronger than any curse he has ever wished upon himself.
Perhaps he was too harsh on you. Archons, perhaps he was too mean—this was exactly why he didn’t deserve you. You deserved better than such a sick, lowly man who could not even live for himself, instead binding his life to save others instead.
But still, even after all his own revelations and realization of his nonexistent self worth…
He was still a greedy, selfish man.
And that selfishness had him running right out of his door and into the pouring rain, not caring at how the sudden cold nipped and picked at his skin, or how the winds beat at his frail body. Not even the Archons could halt such a starvation for salvation—it was the only spark he had left to chase.
In this cold, dreary life—in this cold, dreary day alone—you still shone like the sun under the dim streetlights of Liyue upon this pale grey sky. His body still eased the moment you caught his eye, almost as if your gaze alone had suddenly removed every drop of sickness he self-injected into his own bloodstream, or as if you were the cure he was looking for all his life.
Such selfishness once again had his body fighting from collapsing when he desperately fell into your arms that held him so dearly. And the greed of mankind only snapped when found his lips settled so hopelessly against yours, clinging onto your kiss as if he would die tonight.
Truly, maybe he would. But for now, in your embrace, he feels the strongest he’s ever been since he sold his soul.
⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
ALHAITHAM. enchanted
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Archons, he hated these events, though he had no choice but to attend. No one could ever allow the Acting Grand Sage, even if he held so much spite, to escape the demeaning eyes of Sumerean publicity.
Alhaitham held himself as an independent soul. But this formalwear, this clanging of champagne glasses, this suffocating air—were definitely not so independent nor free.
This hall of aspiring young scholars and old men, all in one exhibit for the sake of research and networking. Academics is what they acclaim, but the Acting Grand Sage may be too thick of a personality for them (if he had one at all). But the only thing keeping his eyes open from boredom, quite surprisingly a person, was you.
You, who looked young compared to these much older alumni and long-time scholars. And it was truly you, out of the many faces in this room, who he could not name.
Your eyes met from across the room. Such a sliver of a chance—his eyes whispered a curious glance from the opposite wall among this dreary sea of scholars. There was a spark graced by the Electro Archon, perhaps; or maybe even a gush of wind from the God of Anemo. But every sense of composure was lost when his body moved on its own, walking himself closer and closer just to meet you.
It begins with hello; it always does. It continues with quick remarks, with “I’ve never seen you before,” and with “Have we met?” And soon enough, he feels like he’s in school again. He feels a flutter he has not known in years, an urge to talk quicker than he can think. The crinkle at the corner of your eyes has him immersed in amazement. The sole fact that you can crack a smile at him; a smile that wasn’t fake politeness like all these scholars.
For some reason unbeknownst to him, that expression of yours alone had his feet glued to the floor, like you’ve trapped him in such an engaging conversation he desperately could not let go. It was a forcibly dreadful night—you turned it flawlessly enchanting in a way that you read to him like a book, all in which he could not put you down once he begins.
And once the event ends, and he is forced to leave you so soon, he watches you walk away with an expression that he himself could not even read.
Wonderstuck.
He would never notice the light tint on his face, staining his cheeks all the way home.
⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
CHILDE. cruel summer
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Left foot, right foot, tiptoe, right foot—hold the counter, hold the wall, hold the rail all the way up the steps… He’s got this.
One step down the hall, another foot down, a third one until he finds a steady rhythm. The room is hazy, the walls are spinning. His head hurts and he feels like a baby taking his first steps, so helpless and unsteady that he almost wants to cry again from exasperated frustration alone. Why was this so hard? Did he really hate himself so much, that he would stagger his way home from the bar like this?
One hand on the door, turn the knob, and—
Ah. He dropped his keys so loudly on the floor.
You woke up with a start from the bedside, immediately turning to him wide-eyed in both starling surprise from the noise, and more importantly, concern. He didn’t mean to wake you. He hated feeling guilty, but it was the exact feeling that crept up his spine once he saw the devastated look on your face. Frenzied eyes and dark circles—clearly you had stayed up just to wait for him, too.
“Ajax,” you voiced—a tone full of worry and heavy exhaustion, God, he felt so horrible. “Oh, Ajax, come here.”
As much as he didn’t like it when you cared for him like this, he was not immune to the sounds of your calling. His shaky legs carried him immediately, as if the alcohol in his system was pulling him towards you, too. “I’m fine,” he barely stuttered out. It was a claim he had to make immediately, a sign he was desperate to reassure you.
Your eyes grew heavier, though he did not know if they were lidded from concern or from sleepiness. Either way, he practically melted from the touch of your palms resting against his cheeks. So warm, but a much more pleasant warmth than the burning summer air that he just walked in, all the way home with a liquor-dazed mind.
“Have you been crying…?” Ah, and that was why your eyes were narrow—they were squinting at the sorry stains of tears that lined his cheeks. He forgot to wipe them, it seemed. It was almost laughable.
“No, just sweat from the heat.”
Crying over you… He’d never let you know that. To cry, to bleed, to die—you would never be the first person he tells.
“You reek of liquor…” Quite disgustingly so, he thinks. And yet, you still held his face so fondly, moving his head in such a gentle manner as you swiped his tear stains with the pads of your thumbs.
He stayed silent. He had no answer to this one.
“I love you,” he mutters, though it’s a confession nevertheless. And he says it so sadly—so miserably that you couldn’t help but sigh. He hates it, too. He hates it when you sigh. Because when you sigh, it means you’ll just let it go; No matter how many lies he tells, or how many times he cries, or how many secrets he keeps, you’ll still accept him like always.
“I love you, too.” And that was the worst line he’s ever heard.
⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
KAVEH. foolish ones
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“Oh, woe is me…” Loves me, loves me not, loves me… “Did you happen to see anything in the mailbox?”
His roommate stared. “Go check it yourself.”
Kaveh heavily sighed. He couldn’t; He physically could not bear to do it. It’s not that he was lazy to get up, no. The real issue was the genuine grief he would feel when he opened the mailbox, only to see nothing inside. No special gifts, no romantic letters, and absolutely no confessions of love signed with your name.
It was embarrassing, really. To feel this dramatic and obsessed with words of admiration from you—oh, especially when Alhaitham found out about this whole lovesick ordeal. But he could not help his mind from just imagining it: the reflection of himself in your eyes as you finally confess your feelings of passion and love for him (feelings that didn’t exist, feelings he merely imagined you having, all so pathetically).
But he’s so weird, and he’s so terrible. To imagine a fabled life with you when you probably did not think about him this same way. How foolish. Did you daydream about him like he daydreamed about you every night before he slept? Did you think about him like he thought about you every time he sees your favorite color in the passing? Did you wait at your mailbox like he waited for any letters from you? No. No, you didn’t.
And he’s cried, quite humiliatingly. He’s cried that the perfect life he could picture himself having with you at his side would never be a reality. He’s cried a downpour of tears, simply because he allowed himself to be so caught up in a delusion that was so sick of him to conjure up.
“Are you free for dinner tonight?”
“So sorry Kaveh, I already have plans…”
Plans with someone else. No wonder you hadn’t written him any messages, or contacted him in a while. That… was not the scenes he had in his head. His imaginations, his hopes, his dreams—they did not have someone else in them. For someone he was so hopelessly in love with, he felt so much hurt. A foolish lesson to be learned by a foolish romantic.
In the end, he’d just be talking himself to sleep again. He’d just smile at the sight of you flourishing. Without him, your world will go on turning. A world full of reciprocated love and devotion, one that he would never know.
⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
RAIDEN EI. you belong with me
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The Raiden Shogun was self-destructive. No more than a few people knew of such a fact, but she was certainly one of them.
Because if she cared for her own wellbeing, truly, then she would not fall for selfish desires. Nor, would she be here now, sitting next to you outside a sliding screen in her private gardens of Tenshukaku, sipping your favorite tea and hearing your sweet voice ramble about something so unpleasant to her ears. If she prioritized her own emotions, then maybe she’d be living in blissful ignorance right now instead of listening to your woes over a lover… A lover that was not her.
“And then, she teases me,” you complained, though it was clear you hated it. You didn’t like whining about your partner, which was a good thing—but it made Ei feel sick, because it meant you really loved that woman. “I know she does that all the time, and I just need to get used to it,” you continued, “but sometimes, it gets too much, and she still doesn’t stop.”
But I wouldn’t do that to you, the archon thinks to herself. And suddenly, the tea isn’t as appetizing anymore, because her own words felt drilled onto her tongue, forever forbidden to speak aloud.
“Miko… Has always been like that,” Ei quietly admits instead. She doesn’t want to insult your lover, for that same person was also her own friend. She wanted to be supportive, but it was impossible when she was so in love with you, that she spent every second of each passing day just wishing she was in Miko’s place instead.
“Yeah… But—still, I mean…” You sighed, coming to a loss for words to describe the pink haired shrine maiden. “Is it really so hard to ask just for her to understand how I’m feeling…?” you whined in what seemed like genuine distress. Your face sunk into your hands, and it took all of Ei’s willpower just to keep her respective distance from a romantically taken friend.
But I understand how you feel, Ei once again thinks. She feels so dirty of a friend for comparing herself like this. I understand you better than she will ever.
“Ei…” you muttered. She almost chokes from the way you say her name. “What should I do…?”
Be with me, instead. “Don’t cry over something, or someone, you cannot control. It’s possible your personalities are just not fit for each other, you know.”
“But I love her, Ei…”
Ouch.
She clears her throat, recovering from sharp breath of air she just inhaled. A part of her just broke in that moment, and it was so obvious, too—her expression quickly changed, her body became stiff, her balance suddenly shifted, and yet…
You noticed none of it. Your head was too clouded over love for another woman that was not her; So clouded, in fact, you did not notice the way Ei almost began to tremble. The misery you carried only crafted tenfold for the archon, eternally unbeknownst to you.
But you don’t belong to her, anyways. So why was she crying?
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straylightdream · 1 year
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crying over you - drowning in my tears in my bedroom
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𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: bang chan x f.reader
↳ even after a bad fight he’ll still come to you to protect you during a thunderstorm.
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: established relationship
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst and crying
𝐚𝐧: I wrote this trying to get passed my writers block. I might write more short stories for the other boys. If you would like to join any of my Stray Kids taglist please fill out this form.
𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.
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You had another fight. This one was over something stupid and you were both very aware of it as you laid in separate rooms both replaying the fight over in your head. You were both way too stubborn to go and apologize. One of your biggest flaws was that you’re stubborn, and it didn’t help that he was just as stubborn as you.
In the last few months you had had a couple of big fights, but this felt like the biggest one you had ever had. You both said things knowing that they would cut deep and now you're both left broken over it. Your relationship wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows but you knew you loved Chan so you always fought to make things work. You always tried your hardest to fix things, even Chan tried his hardest, but you were starting to wonder if it was all worth it. Was going to sleep crying worth this relationship.
You laid in silence staring at the ceiling wanting to tell him you were sorry but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Tears slid down your cheek needing him more then you had ever needed him but you couldn’t get out of bed to admit it. Swallowing back tears, you wondered if he was even worth fighting for anymore. You loved him with all your heart but at that moment, you hated him too. Even during your other fights, you had never gone to bed in a separate room. You always managed to kiss and make up, but you felt like this time there might not be any more making up. There was a stabbing feeling in your chest that this might truly be the end of you and Chan. You weren’t ready for your relationship to be over, but you’re hurt.
A clash of thunder struck outside your window making you jump. You hated thunder and it scared you even as an adult. Normally Chan would hold you during thunderstorms to make you feel safe, but tonight you laid in an empty bed in your guest room.
Curling up under your blankets you prayed sleep would soon find you. Thunder shook the window and you held your eyes closed tightly. You wanted to get up and run to Chan but you were still too headstrong to do it. Even when you’re scared you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
The sound of the bedroom door opening caused you to open your eyes. The bed dipped down next to you and you stayed completely still, not even bothering to look over at him crawling into the bed. A strong arm went around your soft torso and pulled you against his body. Another clash of thunder caused you to shiver against him.
Tightening his grip on you he whispered, “it’s okay.”
Tears slid down your cheek at the fact he came to your rescue even after the last words you had said to him in the living room were yelling you hated him. Closing your eyes, you held onto his arm as the storm ragged on outside.
-
He wanted to say something else to you but at that moment, he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even plan on going into your room until maybe the morning. He wasn’t even sure you could work it out after the fight you had, but when the thunder started shaking the windows he knew you shouldn’t be alone. Swallowing his pride, he went to the girl he loved who needed him.
“Do you still hate me?” he whispered, wanting to know if you were going to be okay.
Tears continued to fall as you shook your head. “I never did,” you said, speaking to him for the first time.
“I know we both said some things that cut deep, but just know I love you,” he whispered.
“Okay,” you whispered as tears continued to fall. You couldn’t bring yourself to say you loved him for some reason at that moment. It might have been because you were still hurt, but you ultimately did still love him.
“Let’s get some sleep and we’ll work this out in the morning,” he sighed before pressing his lips to the top of your head.
“Are you always going to love me? Even when we fight?” You whisper.
He’s silent for a moment and holds you tighter. “I’m always going to love you, even after we fight.”
“Okay that’s good, because I’m worried you’ll stop loving me after this.” There’s a tight feeling in your chest that maybe one day he’ll get tired of fighting with you and stop loving you.
“We’re gonna work on stopping these fights. I want us to be together forever and know arguing isn’t healthy, but we can work on that together.” There is another clash of thunder that shakes the window. Whimpering you grip his arm holding on to him tightly. “Baby girl, it's okay.”
“I love you, and I want us to work it out,” tears stream down your face as you tell him you love him.
Ever so gently he presses his lips to the back of your neck. Closing your eyes you push back your tears. “Baby stop crying, we’re gonna be okay. We’ll fix this,” he says between gentle kisses on the back of your neck.
“Okay.”
Thunder continued to shake your windows as the storm continued all night. Chan never left your side comforting you. When morning came he reminded you that he loves you and that he truly wants to work things out. You know you’re gonna have to fight to make things work, but it’s worth it because you love him.
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venusacrossthestars · 16 days
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your hands in mine
Pairings- Charles Leclerc x fem!reader
WC-1k
warnings- fluff, thunderstorm, 1 sexual-ish innuendo
A/N: this is something special for @arieslost and her obsession with hands, especially Charles' hands. I wrote this and am posting in today (3/12) in honor of our 3 years of friendship. I wouldn't be who I am without her. nyoom duo till the end.
f1 masterlist
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The roll of thunder is what startles you out of your slumber. Senses clouded by the lingering effects of sleep. For a moment you are unsure as to where you were. This looked nothing like your apartment. Another wave of thunder brought back the realization, I spent the night at Charles’. 
You and the Monégasque driver had spent the entire day together, doing everything and nothing. He had a week off between races and was adamant about spending it all with you, not that you were complaining. This night had been no different. The two of you had gone out for a nice dinner, a little local spot near Charles’ flat that had live music. Your walk home was filled with a comfortable silence, which was one of your favorite things about being with Charles. The two of you didn’t need to be in constant conversation with each other, just each other presence was enough. 
The peacefulness followed the both of you as you worked through the motions of your nightly routine. Yours ended with reading a few chapters of whatever book you were reading and Charles practicing the piano. Kissing him before you each went off to do your own routine was the last thing you could fully remember. You must’ve fallen asleep out on the balcony and Charles must’ve carried you to bed. 
Turing over in Charles’ arms was a task easier said than done. Anytime the two of you spooned his arms would magically become vice grips, impossible to get out of. However, Charles must have been equally, if not more, beat than you. The rain helping lull him to sleep as it had done to you, his arms were lax across your middle, making it easier to roll over to your opposite side. 
As the wind picked up, a cool breeze swept through the open windows making you nestle further into Charles’ bare chest. Your hands coming to rest across his chest. Another thing to love about him, he always slept shirtless. It was impossible to deny how handsome Charles was, and contrary to popular belief of the media, you weren’t with Charles only for his looks and fame, though it was a perk. You didn’t care about any of those things. When he was with you he wasn’t Charles Leclerc Prince of Ferrari, he was just Charles and that’s all you needed. 
The rain began to pour harder and you couldn’t restrain yourself from staring at Charles’ sleeping figure, it was as if Michelangelo personally carved him out of marble. His sharp features only a tad more relaxed in his slumber. Shamelessly, you move your hand from his chest and lightly begin to trace his face with the backside of your hand, carefully trying not to wake him. Content with your mapping skills you move your hand back to his chest, now mindlessly drawing shapes into his tan skin. 
You continued your drawing, listening to the sounds of the storm as it raged on, lost in your own world. You would’ve stayed like that for longer if it wasn’t for a practically bright flash of lightning followed by a wave of thunder that had enough force to shake the room. This startled Charles from his slumber, which in turn startled you. 
“We should close the window before the floor gets all wet,” Charles mumbled out, still in the clutches of sleep. 
“Too comfy, don’t wanna move,” you mutter into his skin. 
Charles slides out from under you, causing you to whine at the loss of contact. 
“I’m going to be right back, mon cheri, do not worry.” 
With your eyes well adjusted to the darkness of the bedroom, you can make out the outline of Charles’ back, along with the muscles that flex as he closes the window and redraws the curtains that have been blown open. You watch shamelessly. How can a man be that perfect? 
“See something you like?” Charles teases, standing at the foot of the bed. 
“Best view in the city.” Your answer seems to satisfy Charles as he climbs back into bed, back to your previous position. 
Now, instead of your hands tracing Charles’ features it is Charles whose hands soothingly roam your arm. On one particular ticklish pass of his hand, you let out a small giggle and before he can go back to try and tickle you again you grab his hand. 
With his hand in yours, you bring it to your lips and press small kisses against each of his knuckles. Happy with the amount of kisses you have given him you bring his hand back down and absent-mindedly play with his fingers. Charles, still awake, says nothing and continues to let you do as you please. 
“I love your hands,” you admit. 
“I know,” he chuckles out, “I like my hands too, especially when they are wrapped around your throat.” 
You gasp at the statement, “you pervert. I’m complimenting you and your head is stuck in the gutter.” 
“It always is when you’re around.” 
You roll your eyes at his comment and he pinches your side in retaliation, “you can’t even see what I did.” 
“I know you, and I know you just rolled your eyes at me.” 
Well, he’s got you there. You stop messing around with his fingers and now it is Charles’ turn to fiddle with yours. He copies your motions, bringing your hand to also kiss each knuckle. Instead of stopping as you did with his, he lightly massages the meat of your palm. 
You are fighting the feeling of sleep, but it is a losing battle between the massage Charles is giving you and sound of the rain hitting the now closed window. Charles mutters something that your foggy brain is unable to catch. 
Laced with sleep you ask, “what did you say?” 
“Just that I love your hands too.” Charles says while kissing your ring finger but you are too far gone to hear the last part. “And one day I’ll put a ring on your finger and be able to call you mine forever.”
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