#i just keep thinking of it and the sunrise and how it all felt | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wandasaura · 9 months ago

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BURNING BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN

summary — the annual maximoff memorial day barbecue has finally come, but so has a softer side of your dominants

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, mentions of dom/sub dynamics, this is 90% fluff, shower sex, quickie, fingering, oral, nipple stimulation, hickies, its relatively tame in comparison to what lives in this au, domestic fluff, mentions of pietro being dead as fuck, men/minors dni

authors note — remember when i said i was taking a little break? yeah i lied and im not sorry about it!

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff

The warmth and promise of sunshine had quickly taken hold of Westview, days of long darkness and snow storms came to be just a memory, thawed out by butterflies and the occasional white dove that pecked at the birdfeeder on the back porch of the Maximoff residence. You couldn’t understand how the sky was so much brighter in warmer weather, but as you sat beside Natasha on the cusp of solid Earth, you thought it looked bluer than usual. The crashing waves before you licked at your feet and dampened the shorts you wore when the tide dared to try and swallow you whole, but like changing seasons, it never stayed quick.

Sunrise had barely hit its peak and already the traces of pink and orange were just another mental memory for the big scrapbook of moments you never wanted to forget. The sand was coarse beneath the fingers that hours earlier had been dug into soft blankets, but refreshing and welcomed despite how small granules crept beneath your nails when you picked it up the wrong way. Natasha hummed an old lullaby beneath her breath, eyes closed and face tilted toward the sun like a lonely flower that had managed to grow in an abandoned field. You knew much about the woman's past, but not enough to understand her connection to the star that brought you light each new day. Now wasn’t the time to ask, but you knew that eventually you’d come to know the reason for her methods of relief in hard times.

The first weekend of break had come on quick, and the barbeque that Wanda and Natasha had frantically tried to tidy the house for before your attitude interrupted them was merely hours away. Despite the plans and the people coming over, time had been taken out of the day to devote just to you. In this moment, sitting on the edge of solid ground beneath rays of sun that attempted to burn you, you couldn’t even explain how truly loved you felt.

The beach was empty, void of the presence of others and quiet for your enjoyment, save for the seagulls who squawked over scraps and the waves that crashed against man made piers and naturally jagged rocks. Your toes were coated in sand, your fingers in the same state, but you didn’t care to think about the messy things at that moment, you only wanted to focus on the good. The good was Natasha’s arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close like a stray wave might succeed in carrying you out to sea. The good was Wanda’s perfume that lingered around the collar of your stolen shirt like the scent was woven into the cotton. The good was being here, being free and alive. The good was knowing Natasha. The good was having Wanda. The good was knowing love and having love.

You laid your head down on the woman’s shoulder, noting how her hair seemed to glow beneath the sunlight. In this moment, it wasn’t auburn with scuffs of brown thrown in at the roots, it was orange like fire made by those long before lights and lanterns existed. She was ethereal, sat out beneath the early daylight, bearing her freckles for the sky to adore. You’d attempted to count them earlier, your gaze stuck on her naked face with blemishes and beauty marks sporadically thrown into the mix, but somewhere after thirty they all blended together and you settled for simply looking at them, admiring how you were somehow allowed to see them.

You were happier in spring, happiest in summer, but recently, you have found those seasons in people. Wanda was like the early days of May, where weather was warm but also cold, and sunlight was soft but somehow harsh. Natasha was like summer, late July if you thought about a specific moment. Like the air she was sweet, but like the people she was calm, and like the night she was chaos wrapped up in laughter and loved company. They weren’t perfect, you would never call them such, but they were as close to it as people could get.

A soft smile graced your features, and though you squinted to lessen the sting of sunlight, Natasha thought you looked stunning. When her eyes reopened and her head tilted downward to look at you, there was only affection smeared across her face. Her eyes that were so meticulously different shades of green had a spark within them that could only speak of the happiness she felt. How words had existed for so long and still there wasn’t one to describe the intense feelings that rushed through the both of you, you didn’t know, but you were content enough to rest against her with the knowledge that even if you couldn’t say it, you were both feeling it.

“We’ve gotta head back soon.” Your beautiful moment was ripped into tiny pieces of paper that got caught in the breeze before they made it into the recycling can, and the smile that had turned your lips upward quickly worked in the opposite direction. You shook your head, digging your heels into the sand like the simple action might change her mind and make her forget about the barbeque that was starting at noon. “Not now. I need a couple more minutes of this.”

You giggled softly when she nuzzled into your head, her wild curls tickling your nose because she hadn’t bothered to straighten them yesterday. You reached up, taking one of her curls between your fingers and pulling it taught, letting go to watch it bounce back into place and laid against her forehead with frizzy edges. You sighed in content, running your fingers through her wild hair that couldn’t be tamed in this state. “I like your natural hair.”

Natasha crinkled her nose at your genuine admission. She puckered her lips and let them rest against your finger that was still in front of her face as you softly brushed strands of hair away from her eyes. “My natural hair is blonde.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” You rolled your eyes fondly, snuggling even further into her side despite how hot you felt beneath the sun. No matter the weather you wanted to be pressed up into her, and it was clear that she wanted the same, her arm around your waist squeezed you tight, almost daring you to try and pull away prematurely. “When you met Wanda did she have red hair?”

“No, the red is pretty new. It was brown, a little bit longer than she keeps it now. She was really leaning into the whole emo phase. We could never go out together if she didn’t have red lipstick and eyeliner, she always said it completed her look.” Natasha smiled fondly at the memories that came to mind when she thought about the beginning stages of their relationship, and you felt your own heart warm in your chest as you thought about the young couple they had been. You wondered what kind of odds had been stacked against them, but you didn’t question it, happy to just live in this happy moment.

You let your hand fall back into the sand, rubbing circles that slowly became hearts into the malleable surface. The beach would always be one of your favorite places, but sitting beside Natasha made it better, sweeter. “How long have you been together now?”

“Fourteen years.” Natasha laughed, her own hand reaching out to collect handfuls of sand that she let run between her fingers until only a few granules were left in her palm, and then you watched her repeat the process over again. “Sometimes it feels like it was only a couple of weeks ago, and other times it feels like I’ve never lived without her.”

“I never hated her.” You admitted, though you had the slightest inkling that Natasha already knew that. She just had a way of knowing things before you did. There was no possible way anyone could hate Wanda Maximoff, and if you somehow stumbled upon the only person in the world who did, you didn’t doubt they’d meet a quick and painful demise.

“I know, moya kroshka.” Natasha laughs softly, so softly the sounds of the waves almost drown her out completely, but you still heard her. You’d always hear her. “It’s coming up on a full year since we started this whole thing, have any ideas about what you want to do?”

You shrugged your shoulders, reaching for Natasha’s hand when she lost interest in the sand. She’d taken her rings off last night and with the early wake-up call hadn’t put them back on. The slightest tan kissed her features around where they usually sat, and gently you brushed the pads of your fingers against the pale skin. “I just want to spend it with you both.”

“We can definitely make that happen.” Natasha hummed softly, laying a gentle kiss on the top of your head where sunlight had kissed your hair. Your roots were warm, hot against her lips, but Natasha didn’t flinch away. You knew this moment was coming to an end, but you could appreciate it for the few seconds longer that it lasted. “Wanda probably has breakfast ready, milaya. We’ve gotta start heading back now.”

“Can we come back?” You questioned softly, not wanting to speak too loud as if it could ruin the quiet atmosphere around you. As you stood, dusting sand off the back of your legs, you winced at the ache in your back when you finally found your feet and steadied yourself on them. Natasha did the same, a quiet groan slipping past her lips when she reached down to collect your abandoned sets of flip flops. With one hand occupied, she reached the other out to you.

“We’ll find a day.” She promised with a nod of affirmation. Your hand fits easily in the palm of hers, your fingers curl around her scarred knuckles while hers lay flat against your unbroken ones. Together you’re a perfect balance. Delicate definitely, but not entirely harmless.

Westview sits on the edge of New Jersey, the air tinged with the permanent lingrance of salt and sand. The farther you walk, the less prominent it becomes, but if you know what you’re looking for, the scent of the shore still remains. Houses closest to the water are painted soft colors that linger in the summer sunrises, vacation homes that are only occupied for a handful of months throughout the year, but the deeper you walk the more mundane it becomes. The town is a muted palette of browns and beiges, fences of white and cars of greyscale. It’s perfectly coherent, acceptably mature, but the Maximoff residence remains the outlier. In the blandness of tans and creams, the two-story house is a soft green color with vibrant red shutters. The cars are normal, though elaborate. Unlike the Hondas and Toyotas that occupy driveways and road space, Natasha’s sleek Corvette Stingray sits beside Wanda’s Audi R8 in the driveway, the only flex of their wealth that’s apparent. You like it though, like how they’re so different from everyone else.

You make sure to kick the sand still clinging to your heels off before you step into the house, and immediately you’re met with the aroma of sweet sugar and maple. Natasha hums at the change of scent, leaving behind the traces of salt that had tickled her nose the entire walk back to the house in favor of discovering what Wanda had prepared for breakfast. She drags her hand across your back as she passes you, seeking out the presence of her wife.

You're slower to follow, taking your time to meticulously stack your flip flops with the rest of the shoes in the entryway. They don’t match the aesthetic of Valentino loafers and Prada heels, but you smile at the sight anyways. Your favorite pair of white converse sit beside the shoes Wanda wears into the office every work day, and your balled up pink socks are tucked into Natasha’s running shoes for some reason, but the little traces of your place here makes you feel at home. You’re not so different from the shore that lingers through Westview in the winter, but unlike the water that’s abandoned when snow falls, they’ll never forget about you when the seasons inevitably change.

“Where did you leave the stray?” You just barely catch the end of whatever conversation has led to that question when you finally appear in the kitchen. The sunlight is golden now, no longer soft with pink and orange, but it falls over Wanda like the perfect blanket anyways. She’s wrapped up in Natasha’s arms, pinned to the stovetop where bacon rests in a hot pan. The only indication that this moment is less than perfect is the hot grease that pops and splatters every other second when Wanda neglects it for too long.

“You know, you should really be nice to me before I start biting your ankles like a real stray.” You hum, your voice carrying through the kitchen like it’s always belonged there, though it’s not a response derived from annoyance like it would have been only weeks ago. Rather, your words are layered with fond exasperation that Wanda finds herself laughing at.

Natasha kisses the lawyer's shoulder, squeezes her waist tightly, whispers something in Russian that’s not entirely audible from how far away you stand, before she pulls away entirely and walks toward the refrigerator. You pout when she pulls out the near empty pitcher of orange juice, setting it down on the island to be poured into glasses when breakfast is ready. It seems you could’ve spent a few more minutes beneath the sun, but you don’t complain. This is just as nice, just different.

“That’s my job.” You sulk, letting your naked feet slap against the hardwood floors as you approach with sadness written across your expression. “Wanda, your wife took my job.”

Natasha only narrows her eyes at you, the faintest ghost of a smile on her lips that she doesn’t even attempt to school. “It was my job first.”

“Well it’s my job now!” You stuck your tongue out at her, sulking your way over to Wanda who lets you wrap your body around hers like a baby koala. With your front pressed up against hers, you have to crane your head backward to catch a glimpse of her face, but you're pleased to know she’s already looking down at you. You pout your lips up at her, grinning in victory when she kisses your frown away with a sigh of faux exasperation. “Can I have a new job?”

Wanda laughs at your question, her fingers sliding beneath the waistband of your shorts to sit on the skin of your ass that’s still marked from days prior. You sighed in relief at the contact, leaning heavily into her chest when she rubs away the lingering ache that truthfully doesn’t bother you much anymore. It doesn’t last long, there’s still much to be done before noon rolls around, but you soak up every ounce of domesticity this morning has offered. “Sit on the counter and look pretty for me while I finish up with the bacon.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” You giggle after saluting her, wiggling out of her arms and sliding your way up onto the countertop that’s practically become your designated spot since she stopped reprimanding you about sitting up here. Natasha crosses the little space between the edge of the island to where you’re perched watching Wanda cook, and you hum in pleasure when she leans forward to connect your lips.

Your hands wrap around her shoulders and fingers tangle into the baby hairs at the nape of her neck. You smile into the kiss, beyond content with the little bubble that’s existed around you since being roused from sleep at five in the morning. A shriek of surprised laughter fills the kitchen when Natasha pulls away from your lips and buries her face in the crock of your neck, a raspberry tickling the sensitive skin as she blows against it. You squirm away from the sensation, but your arms still keep her locked in place.

“Hi, Natty.” You giggle, tugging gently at the loose curls that your fingers are twisted between. She smiles at your happiness, pecking your lips a handful of times before she pulls away and whispers back the same greeting. “You smell like the beach.” You point out, giggling at Natasha’s extravagant eye roll.

“You both smell like the beach and will be taking a shower after breakfast.” Wanda chimed into the conversation, tapping your thigh in warning as she opened the cabinet just beside your head. It had become routine at this point for her to simply work around you, so the clattering of plates beside your ear didn’t bother you much.

When she turned around to grab the serving plate of belgian waffles on the island, your hand shot out to slap her ass, all thoughts of controlling your limbs forgotten. But really, who could blame you when she was wearing the shortest cotton shorts that had ever been sold in stores? Natasha had to bury her face in your neck to muffle her laughter, and you could feel her wide grin against your skin as you smirked innocently back at Wanda who set a firm glare in your direction.

“Behave yourself.” She warned half-heartedly, absolutely no bite to her warning as you’d all just accepted the natural occurrence of the day, your roles as dominant and submissive forgotten about. You liked this exchange, not because you felt any less their equal when they bossed you around and set expectations upon your shoulders, but because it was the faintest glimpse at what life could be if they weren’t married and you were really their girlfriend. “Don’t even think about it, Natalia.” Wanda warned, already knowing Natasha was about to do the same thing you had been bold enough to accomplish.

The redhead merely smirked and shrugged her shoulders, feigning innocence as she pulled away from your embrace and brought the drink glasses and pitcher into the dining room. You hopped off the counter the same as you always do, mimicking Natasha’s shrug when Wanda winced at the action. You grabbed the platter of bacon from her hands and followed after the lawyer who had already exited, eager to see where the day ended up, surrounded by the Maximoff’s closest friends and family members.

The shower water was hot enough to create a thick fog on the glass doors and surrounding mirrors in the en-suite master bathroom, but still it felt cold as you joined Natasha beneath the heavy and unrelenting spray. You shivered despite the heat, reaching for the handle and turning it up even hotter, ignoring the Russian’s protests that her skin was actively melting off her bones. You liked hot showers, but you hated hot baths, and somehow you had yet to find a happy medium that worked for the both of you. Typically you’d compromise and switch off between who melted and who froze, and although it was admittedly your turn to freeze, today was not a day where you were willing to sacrifice feeling in your appendages.

You silenced her whines with a desperate kiss, not even attempting to hide your need for her as you backed her up against the cold tile walls and pinned her hands to her sides. Your tongue was unrelenting as it licked and sucked at hers, tasting the minty toothpaste that she had rinsed from her mouth only minutes before you’d sought out her presence. When your teeth bit down on her tongue, just hard enough to send a shock of excitement down to her core, Natasha decided that being pliant in your hold wasn’t working for her.

You shrieked in surprise when your position switched easily, the hands that had been firmly holding her wrists against the wall now pinned at your sides in the same way. You arched away from the cold tiles, effectively smashing your chests and eager nipples together as you attempted to run away from the cold wall.

“Fuck!” You shivered, your lips ghosting over hers. “You have a fucking Stingray and you still haven’t discovered heated walls?! What’s the point of having money if you don’t use it for good things!” Your words were quickly replaced by breathy moans as Natasha attached her mouth to your chest and greedily sucked a mark into your untouched skin; a mark that wouldn’t be easily hidden, especially not with the swimsuit you had been intending on wearing for the party. “Fuck, Nat–” You pushed her head away, hoping you’d acted quick enough for the damage to be only minimal. The smirk on her lips told you that you hadn’t succeeded, and you slapped at her shoulder in exasperation. “Your sister is literally going to be here in two hours, can you contain your vampire impulses until she leaves?!”

“My sister has fucked her girlfriend in my guest bedroom. A hickey should be the least of her worries.” Natasha threw back at you, attacking her mouth to your nipple with purpose. You had ten minutes to sort yourselves out before Wanda came stomping up the stairs and pulling you out of the shower, orgasms or not. You did not want to spend the entire afternoon and evening hot and bothered because you got pussy blocked by a scary Sokovian.

Natasha’s teeth pulled at your nipple, allowing the skin to sting for only a second before she soothed the pain with quick flicks of her tongue. Your other nipple was not privy to the same treatment, but her stumbling fingers attempted to make up for the neglect as she rolled and pinched at the pebbled bud. You shoved her head away from your chest, forcing her down onto her knees and in the direction of where you needed her most. It occurred to you briefly that you should wash her hair as she ate you out, kill two birds with one stone or whatever the saying was, but you quickly backtracked on that idea when her tongue sought out your clit with no lack of drive. Your knees wobbled, your breath got caught in your throat, and desperately your fingers tangled into her hair and pulled her closer. Your hips grinded against her face as she licked and sucked at your nerve with a passion, and you're certain that had the droplets of liquid fire not been falling over her face in a manner that was less than pretty, her chin would’ve glistened with your arousal.

You arched into her touch as your orgasm approached, and Natasha had used the new position of your body as the perfect moment to bury two fingers knuckles deep in your cunt. You gasped in pleasure at the brief sting that came from her actions, crying out her name in pure bliss as she worked you over the edge so quickly you deserved an award for fastest achieved orgasm.

She pulled away with dilated pupils, her own lust not forgotten about. You sank to your knees before her, pushing at her shoulders until she complied with your silent request and was laid out on the shower floor. Unlike you, she didn’t attempt to wiggle away from the flush of cold against her back, and unlike her, you didn’t waste time toying with her nipples. You dove straight into her cunt, lifting one of her legs until it was high enough to drop onto your shoulder. She tasted like she always did, but something about this situation made her more addictive. The spray of the water fell onto her belly, harsh droplets of water tinting the skin pink from not only the temperature but the pressure. One of these days, you’re going to get around to finding out the true pleasure of the detachable shower head, but today was not that day. You didn’t tease, much more intent at working her up and pushing her over before Wanda came to interrupt. Her clit throbbed beneath your tongue as you licked at her, and her walls clenched around your fingers as she pleaded for more.

“Faster.” She moaned, her head thrown back against the white shower floors. The messy sprawl of her red hair was perfectly angelic, but you had no time to dwell on the sight of her as the minutes ticked down to none. Your fingers set into her at a punishing pace, curling into the sweet spot she loved so much until it was just a symphony of your name that rolled off her tongue in breathy whines and moans. You eased her off of the cliff with a practiced ease, giggling softly when she pushed your head away and subsequently caused water to spray in all directions as it bounced off her wrist. “N-Never letting you talk me into a shower quickie again. I think there’s an entire lake in my ears.” She panted, splaying a hand across her belly until she had managed to catch her breath.

“I mean, technically I didn’t talk you into anything. I mouthed you into this.” You giggled, helping her stand and replacing your rough touch with something tender and sweet. You reached for Wanda’s shampoo, not caring that Natasha had her own right beside it. Wanda’s smelled sweeter, and if you were going to be the one to wash the woman’s hair, it would be you who picked the scene she bore for the rest of the day.

You rubbed at her scalp, lathered until it bubbled, and eased your fingers through the knotted locks when it was time to wash it out. Wanda’s conditioner sat in her hair when the process was repeated on your head, and you sighed in relief when Natasha scratched her nails against the nape of your neck before trailing her hands down to your shoulders. Her thumbs worked on the soft muscles between your shoulder blades, and you melted into the firm attention.

“How long can we stay in here before she breaks down the door?” You questioned, your eyes fluttering closed as you let yourself relax completely. Even if you hadn’t said it, you were beyond nervous to be meeting their family and friends. Some of the people attending their barbeque were big names in the security world, namely Kate Bishop, and you intended on making the best first impression if you were to ever have a career in the same field.

“Three minutes.” Natasha chuckled gently, guiding you under the stream of water so she could rinse the soap from your hair. She conditioned you right after, twisting the strands of your hair between her fingers as she worked out the knots and kinks toward the ends. You rinsed her hair when she was done, dragged a loofa across her skin afterward, and then were rewarded with the same loving treatment. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. Everyone coming knows how much you mean to us. They’re all excited to meet you.” Natasha kissed your shoulder before she turned the water off and squeegeed the door clean of droplets and steam, stepping out into the cold first before she offered you a towel.

“I know.” You sighed, drying your body as you tried to force your feelings into words. “I just want to make a good impression. These are your friends. It’s your sister. They matter to you and Wanda.”

“And you matter to me and Wanda just as much. If you’re worried about Yelena, there’s no reason to be. She’s going to act like she hates you because she thinks it's her duty as my little sister to vet whoever I choose to spend my time with, but by the end of the night she’s going to have you trapped by the firepit showing you pictures of her dog. When she met Wanda for the first time, she insulted her in Russian because she thought she wouldn’t understand.” Natasha snorted at the memory, and you couldn’t help but grin bashfully at the admission. “You’re going to get along fine, and honestly that worries me. I can barely handle you by yourself.”

“Hey!” You slapped at her side, but couldn’t help the wide smile that threatened to split your lips in half as you stared up at her. “I’ll be on my best behavior, promise.”

“I don’t doubt that, утенок.” Natasha leaned forward to kiss your lips, and you returned the gesture though a crinkle of confusion settled across your brows.

You asked once she pulled away, wrapping the towel tightly around your torso so that you could make a break for the guest bedroom where your outfit for the day remained. “What does that one mean?”

“Duckling.” She laughed, and you groaned knowing that it was going to stick around, at least for a little while. You’d been quite privy to Wanda in recent days, call it making up for lost time if you really had to explain your reasonings, and both the Russian and Sokovian had chalked up your clinginess as acts of a duckling blindly following its mother. If Wanda was anywhere in the house, you were right behind her. Yesterday you had genuinely pouted at the bathroom door when she forbade you from coming in with her when she needed to pee, and unluckily enough for you, Natasha had come into the bedroom at just the right time to watch the scene unfold. “Go get dressed. Yelena said she’s arriving at twelve which really means she’ll be here in twenty minutes.”

You nodded quickly, bolting out of the master bathroom and into your claimed bedroom without a moment of hesitance, not wanting Yelena to arrive before you were dressed. The door wasn’t even fully closed before you were dropping your towel and scrambling to find your bathing suit bottoms in the pile of messy clothes stacked on the dresser.

Droplets of chlorinated water lingered on touches of skin that had yet to be dried by the slowly slipping Spring sun; still a ripple of motion in the pool that hadn’t yet gone completely still with the fresh absence of bodies in the water. The crack of wood submitting to controlled flames accompanied the music of laughter and conversation that happened around you. The evening was long ahead of you, eternal more hours of company promised, but you didn’t feel any obligation to join in on jokes and memories as you fell into Wanda’s lap and snuggled in close, seeking her warmth and comfort as a chill set overtop of you. You’d been drinking all afternoon, being handed hard seltzers and beers whenever anyone noticed your hands were empty. You’d finished a handful of Wanda and Natasha’s chosen drinks, taking it upon yourself to try at least one of every flavor they had laying around the backyard. The flush on your cheeks was near permanent at this point, and though the heat in your ears would be gone by morning and replaced with a headache only Advil and sleep could soothe, the kiss on your cheeks would last days before it settled into darkened skin.

As promised, Yelena had kept you pinned to the edge of the pool when the sun was still at its highest peak in the sky, showing you pictures and videos of the two dogs she took great pride in caring for. Kate had watched for a while, draped across her girlfriend's shoulder as the three of you laughed at a particular video of Fanny and Lucky dressed up in bowties zooming around their daylight drenched kitchen, but she had excused herself to the bathroom before the end was in sight. Maria Hill had been your savior, though you were content with Yelena’s easy presence not to mind your trapped position much while it had lasted. The early hours of the afternoon had been filled with conversation and the act of acquainting, but the later hours had told a different story; a wild one. It was the story of how you had come to find this state of mind, far past the point of being tipsy and well on your way to true drunkness.

You hummed when Wanda laid her palm flat over your belly, keeping you close and safe in her lap. The soft pad of her thumb tickled your belly button as she adjusted slowly, sinking further down into the lounge chair she sprawled across. The sloppy smile on your face was the truest indication of your contentment, and Wanda, though she wondered who had been the one to feed you so much alcohol without her realizing, returned the grin.

Natasha and Yelena were noticeably missing from the circle, but the silhouettes of their wild hair and toned shoulders were figures or darkness in the kitchen that promised a quick return. Natasha, though only an inch or so taller than her sister, wore her curls in a messy bun that slipped lower and lower down her head as the hours carried on. She was easiest to spot from a distance, the shadow of her presence known perfectly to you. Wanda didn’t pay you much attention other than the firm hand on your belly, but you were content to just be with her as she laughed and caught up with the blonde woman sat beside her; Carol Danvers.

“They put up a new plaque for Pietro today.” Carol laughed at the inkling of information she had forgotten to share earlier in the afternoon, and Wanda craned her head in hopeful willingness that Carol would share more. “He would’ve loved it. He’s the only bastard on the squad that was dumb enough to have a catch phrase.”

As if that mentioned catch phrase had been sitting on the lips of every person gathered around the fire, it fell from soft tongues without a moment of hesitation. Messy, not at all in tune, but seemingly perfect to Wanda who smiled when horrible Sokovian accents caught up to her ears and the words her brother had made his slogan lived on when even he didn’t, “You didn’t see that coming.”

Memorial day has never held much significance to you. It had been just another holiday that sat on the start of summer, sometimes warm enough for gatherings like these, and sometimes not. Until you realized that the American flag folded in militant perfection in the master bedroom was a symbol of remembrance, you hadn’t thought it held much significance to the CEO’s either. Even though you hadn’t known Pietro, his life ending years before your path had crossed with the Maximoff’s, you smiled. His name had lingered in conversations throughout the day, and you didn’t question how loved he still was after years of absence.

Wanda’s lips were heavy on the crown of your head when she leaned down to kiss you. You leaned into the touch, your eyes fluttering closed for the briefest second before they opened and found Natasha admiring the sight of you. Two beers retrieved from the cooler near the pool sat in her hands, one cracked open and extended in your direction.

“She doesn’t need anymore.” Wanda rolled her eyes, but didn’t stop you from grabbing the long necked bottle Natasha offered and adjusting yourself in her lap so that you could sip on it easily, having already spilled one drink down the front of you. With your back against her chest, and your legs situated between hers, you had to crane your neck to catch even the slightest glimpse of her face, but her arms around your torso were the physical assurance of her presence. She rubbed at the skin of your belly that had grown pink and warm beneath the sun, not yet tan, but it would come soon. The hickey on your chest had long since been forgotten, though Yelena had posed many questions of its origin before Kate slapped her shoulder and changed the topic. You’d been accepted without question, and you found that while some of their friends were painfully intimidating, Maria and Carol, they were truly sweethearts who had the same tendencies of protection as your dominants.

When your beer had grown warm, and your cheeks had grown flusher, having been in no hurry to finish it off and replenish it like Yelena was doing, you passed the near empty bottle off to Natasha who had taken it not without an exasperated roll of her eyes and a mumbled sentence along the lines of being nothing but your servant. You had giggled, shrugged your shoulders, and curled further into Wanda who didn’t seem to even flinch at your elbow digging into her ribs.

Despite your determination to remain awake, sleep won over you just as quickly as drunkenness had. Wanda merely rubbed your back in encouragement, being the single factor that had forced you into soft unconsciousness when conversations still buzzed around you. With your eyes closed and your breathing even, no chance of being woken even by the harshest storm, conversation had naturally flowed away from Pietro and onto you, but both Wanda and Natasha welcomed the new topic if it meant having the welcomed opportunity to boast about just how truly sweet you are.

“I see you played the long game, Maximoff.” Maria winked at the Sokovian, her icy blue eyes admiring your innocent form as you attempted to wiggle closer to the auburn haired women who held you tightly. If you could find a way to burrow yourself beneath her skin, she knew that you would’ve done so already.

“Patience rewards those who have it.” Wanda merely smirked in response, running her pruney fingers from hours of holding sweating cans and bottles through your chlorine stiff hair. “She just needed a little encouragement.”

“She wasn’t the only one.” Natasha rolled her eyes, sipping slowly on her beer that despite the warmth, still brought a piece of home over her longing heart. Russians may drink vodka, but Melina Vostokoff had always preferred a beer.

Wanda shrugged, knowing that despite her persistently cold demeanor, she had never truly doubted how her heart yearned for you. “It’s not my fault you brought home a brat.”

“If I remember correctly, you said the same thing when you met Natasha.” Carol smirked over the lip of her can, her eyes burning holes into the side of Natasha’s face, though the Russian pointedly ignored her stare.

“Watch it, Danvers.” She warned, but surrendered to the teasing she had missed in recent months. Life was busy, but they’d always find a reason to come back together.

#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dom!natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dom!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fluff #wandanat #wandanat x reader #dom!wandanat x reader #wandanat smut #wandanat fluff #series: you are in love #minors dni ৎ୭

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zaczenemiji · 5 months ago

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hiii! req for kenji like imagine reader and ken are dating but he hasnt been able to talk to her alot since of raisng emi and ultraman, so after emi is gone what if he treats her to a little picnic date telling her about what happened and how sorry he is for kinda leaving her out in the blue

From LA, with Love

Kenji Sato x Reader

Word Count: 2,656

Genre/Warnings: Long-Distance Relationship

Author's Note: My longest one so far; sometimes I write without brakes 😩

MASTERLIST

"Breaking news from Tokyo: A baseball game at the Tokyo Dome was disrupted tonight by the sudden appearance of a kaiju. Spectators were evacuated, and the city is currently under high alert."

Your heart pounded as the screen switched to footage of the chaos. The camera panned over terrified spectators fleeing the stadium and a massive kaiju rampaging through the city streets.

At the corner of the footage, you spotted familiar landmarks in the background and felt a knot tighten in your stomach. Those looked like the pictures Kenji sent you for updates.

The newscaster continued, "Among the players was rising baseball star Kenji Sato—“

The sound of glass breaking was heard at the mention of his name. Your tea now spilled on the floor, shards of broken glass around it.

Your breath got caught in your throat. Your boyfriend was there, in the middle of the chaos and there was nothing you could do. You were literally 5,000 miles away on the other side of the planet.

You knew you should’ve listened to your gut when it told you to come with Kenji to Japan. If something bad happens to him tonight, you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself especially when there was something you could’ve done.

Quickly, you grabbed your phone, trying to call him, but the call went straight to voicemail. Panic surged through you, but you tried to remain as calm as you could.

The news feed cut to shaky footage that showed Kenji at bat with the crowd cheering, but suddenly, screams filled the air as the kaiju appeared overhead. The camera focused on Kenji, his face a mix of determination and fear before he disappeared from view in the ensuing chaos.

That was all the media said that night. It’s not like LA News would take an extra mile for Kenji; so you desperately searched for more information. Unfortunately, updates were sparse.

It was currently 3 AM in LA and your mind raced with worry. Was he safe? Why hadn't he called you?

You didn’t stop looking for information. You’ve checked the whole internet, called hotlines you thought could give you an update, and stayed up til sunrise.

Suddenly, your phone beeped and you have never been this fast on grabbing it. It was a text message from Kenji, "I'm okay. Can't talk now. Please don't worry. I love you.”

You held your phone close to your chest, a temporary relief washing over. You clung to those words but uncertainty still gnawed in you. You had so many questions and no answers.

Little did you know, Kenji was not just caught in the chaos; he was fighting it as Ultraman, a secret he was yet to reveal. The only reason he told you he was going back to Japan was that he wanted to play for the Giants, his favorite team as a child.

It was a random day that he told you he wanted to go back to Japan, and immediately at that. At first, you were hurt, thinking about how it seemed so easy to leave you in LA when you had loose ends you needed to tie first.

Your job demanded your attention. You were in the middle of wrapping up a significant project that required your presence. Your boss was understanding but insisted you complete the handover to your replacement to ensure a smooth transition.

Then your apartment lease was coming to an end. You needed to sort through your belongings, decide what to keep, sell, or store, and handle the logistics of moving out. This was time-consuming, and you had to coordinate with movers and real estate agents.

Lastly, your family. You were born here in LA and only went out of the country for vacations. But with how Kenji decided to stay in Japan for good, you wanted to follow. You couldn't leave without ensuring your parents and siblings were taken care of and comfortable.

Communication with Kenji became difficult in the weeks that followed after the Tokyo Dome incident.

It was a late evening in LA and an afternoon in Japan. You sat by your laptop, staring at the screen, waiting for Kenji's call. The clock ticked past the scheduled time, and your heart sank with each passing minute.

Finally, your phone buzzed with a message, "I'm so sorry, I can't make the call today. Something urgent came up. I'll explain later."

You sighed, typing back a quick reply, "I understand. Stay safe. I miss you." But he never got a chance to explain anything.

Recently, some things urgent have always arisen around Kenji. It wasn't the first time a call had been missed, and you knew it wouldn't be the last.

You were left with nothing but to watch his games and interviews on TV. However, he didn’t seem like himself in all of them. LA’s pride, the Kenji Sato, seemed like a rookie in the Japanese stadium.

His games were all chaotic with some of them ending in fist fights. When the camera focuses on him, you see nothing but an exhausted man. You never saw him like that before which made you worry what the heck is going on over there.

You clearly had no idea, at all, about what was happening to him. The last time you had a call, the connection was poor, and his voice kept cutting out.

"...so much going on here... trying… keep everyone safe..."

"Kenji, I can barely hear you. Can you repeat that?"

“...wish I could talk longer... love you...”

The call dropped before she could respond, leaving her staring at the screen, feeling more alone than ever.

All of these: being kept in the dark, zero communication, and the constant worry were making you rush the things you needed to wrap up before heading to Japan.

There was a time, you told him that you were thinking of coming to Japan first to help him with whatever he was going through, and just be back to LA afterward to take care of the things you left.

But it’s complicated, he said, with things happening that could put you in danger—more than the kaiju attacks, and that it’s better to stay in LA for now. You knew there was something he wasn’t telling you and it scared you.

Kenji promised to explain everything when the time was right. He told him he loves you more than anything and that he’s doing this to protect you.

You didn’t understand anything but you trusted him, waited for him, and been patient with him.

Soon after, it started to seem like things were getting better for Kenji. The Giants were now back on their track and Kenji was back to his usual self, if not better. Communication has been re-established and not a day went by that he didn’t call you.

Before you knew it, the last of your loose ends had been tied and you were finally ready to fly to Japan. You received a message from Kenji, “Things are calmer now. I miss you. Can't wait to see you."

Your heart ached with longing. You had worked tirelessly to clear your schedule and now was finally the moment. You had your flight booked, bags packed, and said goodbye to friends and family.

At the airport, you paused before boarding, sending one last message to Kenji, "On my way. See you soon."

As the plane took off, you stared out the window, the city lights of Los Angeles fading into the distance. The hardest part was over. You were finally on your way to Japan to finally understand everything that had kept you apart, and to be there for Kenji in ways you couldn't before.

The bustling Tokyo airport was filled with the sounds of announcements, the rolling of luggage, and the chatter of travelers. Kenji stood near the arrival gate, his heart racing with anticipation.

He clutched a bouquet of your favorite flowers, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. After months of limited communication and the constant weight of his responsibilities as Ultraman, he was finally going to see you.

He scanned the crowd, searching for your familiar face among the sea of strangers. His phone buzzed with a message, and he quickly checked it, “Just landed. Can't wait to see you."

Kenji's heart skipped a beat. Moments later, he spotted you emerging from the gate, eyes darting around, searching for him. Your eyes met, and you broke into a wide smile, your pace quickening as you rushed toward him.

He closed the distance, pulling you into a tight embrace as soon as you reached him. The bouquet was momentarily forgotten, dropped to the floor as he held you close, feeling the warmth and reality of your presence.

"I've missed you so much," you whispered, voice trembling with emotion.

"I've missed you too," Kenji replied, his voice thick with relief and love. "I'm so glad you're here."

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a mixture of happiness and concern, "What's been going on?"

Kenji sighed, feeling the weight of the past few months. "There's so much to tell you,” he replied. “But let's get out of here first. I want to take you somewhere we can talk."

He picked up the forgotten bouquet, handing it to you with a sheepish smile, "These are for you."

You took the flowers, your smile widening, “Thank you, Kenji. They're beautiful."

All exhaustion from your 11-hour flight was wiped away at this moment. You were thankful for the naps you took on the plane because you didn’t want to pass out at the moment of your reunion.

The two of you then made your way out of the airport, the chaos and noise gradually fading as you stepped into the relative calm of the parking lot. Kenji led you to his car, loading your luggage into the trunk before opening the passenger door for you.

As Kenji drove through the city, you took in the sights. You’ve never been to Japan before, your excitement mingled with curiosity. "So, where are we going?" You asked.

Kenji glanced at you, a small smile playing on his lips. "I thought we'd go to a park nearby,” he answered. “It's a quiet place where we can sit and talk."

You nodded, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "I've been so worried about you,” you said. “I can't wait to hear everything."

You arrived at the park just as the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow over the landscape. Kenji found a secluded spot under a large oak tree, spreading out a blanket and setting up the picnic he had prepared.

You sat down together, the peaceful surroundings providing a stark contrast to the turmoil of recent months. Kenji took your hands in his, looking into your eyes.

"I'm sorry for everything," he began. "For not telling you sooner, for the missed calls and the worry. There's something I need to explain."

You looked at him with eyes full of concern and love. "I'm here now, Kenji,” you said. “Whatever it is, we'll get through it together."

He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "A lot has happened since we last saw each other” he started. “I've been dealing with something big, something I couldn't tell you about over the phone."

You watched him intently, grip tightening on his hands, “What is it?"

Kenji sighed, feeling the weight of his secret pressing down on him. "You remember the day of the game when Gigantron attacked?” He asked. “That wasn't the first time something like that happened. And I've been involved in every one of those incidents."

Your eyes widened in shock, but you didn't interrupt, letting him continue. "I'm Ultraman," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I've been fighting kaijus to protect the city. And recently, I found myself responsible for raising a baby kaiju who needed my help” he continued. “I couldn’t risk telling anyone, and I didn't know how to tell you."

You sat in stunned silence for a moment, processing everything. "You've been fighting monsters and raising a kaiju baby?” You asked. “Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped."

"I didn't want to drag you into the danger," he said, his voice filled with regret. "But I realize now that keeping you in the dark only made things worse. I'm so sorry for shutting you out."

You looked at him, your eyes softening. "I wish you had told me sooner, but I understand why you didn't,” you replied. “I just want to be there for you, Kenji. We’ll face anything together."

Kenji felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Thank you for understanding,” he said. “I promise, no more secrets and I don’t want to be far away from you anymore."

You held your arms out and gestured for him to hug you. He rested his head on your chest, his safe place. Oh, how he longed for it in the last months when he needed it most.

You could feel his tensed muscles relax at your touch. You peppered his forehead with kisses as you ran your hand lovingly across his hair.

He craved your touches the most and now that he’s in between your arms, it felt as if a heavy weight was taken off his shoulders.

He had so much more to tell but he decided that they were stories for the coming days. There’s no need to rush; after all, you’re here now.

Getting back to his agenda for today, Kenji slowly leaned back. "I hope you're hungry," he said with a grin, placing a small bouquet of wildflowers in the center of the blanket.

On the blanket were an assortment of your favorite foods: sushi, fresh fruit, and homemade mochi. You looked at the spread with delight. "This looks amazing, Kenji,” you said. “You've really outdone yourself."

"I wanted it to be special," he replied. "You deserve the best."

The two of you began to eat, savoring the food and each other's company. Kenji watched you with a soft smile as you tried a piece of sushi. "I remember you loved this one," he said, pointing to a beautifully crafted roll.

Your cheeks slightly flushed from happiness, "This is why I love you!"

As you ate, Kenji told you about the peaceful moments he found in the chaos. He would ask Mina to flash pictures of the two of you together and it would instantly calm him. Even Emi was calmed by it.

You sat in front of Kenji, back pressed against his chest and you between his legs. You held the box of sushis in your hand. From time to time, you’d turn slightly to look up and feed him.

At times, he’d lay his head on your lap, looking up at you, admiring the face he loves. You’d put your hand on his hair, gently stroking it as he tells you all about Emi.

He told you someday he’d take you to meet Emi; he’s sure she would love you. But for now, he just wanted to spend time with you. He felt bad for having neglected you these past months.

After you finished eating, the two of you lay back on the blanket, gazing up at the sky. It was already nighttime by then and the two of you didn’t even notice the time that passed.

Above you, the stars began to twinkle. Kenji pulled you close, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you rested your head on his bicep. The world around you faded into the background.

"I love you," he whispered, the words carrying all the emotions he had held back.

"I love you too, Kenji," you replied, your voice equally soft. It felt so surreal to hear it in person after months of only hearing it on calls. “More than you'll ever know."

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan @reggies-eyeliner @buggs-1 @miffysoo @spencerrxids @stupidbutsmart @marimargirlies @mixvchelle @lannnu @lailuv21 @christiinee @abracarabbit @youngbananamilkshake @flutterfly365 @o-schist @brazilsho @arrozyfrijoles23 @finestflora @mmeerraa @mianbaobaoo @themourningfox

#kenji sato x reader #kenji sato #ken sato x reader #ken sato #ultraman: rising #ultraman #fanfiction #oneshot #long distance relationship #ldr

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loveymontgomery · 8 months ago

Text

what if all i need is you?

addison montgomery x reader

contains smut - about 1k words in

word count: 6740

a/n: veers away from the actual series - takes place right before (and into) the prom episode!! i wrote this in NOVEMBER LOL been hiding in the google docs 4ever. may be off continuity-wise (or some things may just be weird) but i was too busy thinking abt addie -- can u blame me?!?!?!?1//1?!

lyrics from taylor swift's "slut!"

Flamingo pink, sunrise boulevard

Clink clink, being this young is art

You and Dr. Montgomery had just left work together. The two of you were on-call the night before, and got off in the afternoon. She had been wearing her flamingo pink scrubs that night, looking beautiful as ever. Her hair was less curled than usual, fairly straight, with a slight inward curl at the end–how you liked it the most.

You’d gotten an Uber right after work, and took it downtown, where the two of you walked up and down streets (popping into stores occasionally), until dinner. You stopped in a small local place, which turned out to be much better than expected.

“We’ve got to come back here,” Dr. Montgomery said.

“Absolutely, Dr. Montgomery,” you replied, a smile on your face.

“It’s Addison, to you. Surely, we’re on a first-name basis at this point.”

“Cheers, Addison,” you clink your glasses. “To this amazing dinner.”

Aquamarine, moonlit swimming pool

What if all I need is you?

After dinner, with the impending sunset, Addison called an Uber for the both of you. She took you back to the hotel she’d been staying at following her divorce from Derek Shepherd. She led you up to her room, telling you all about the different things the hotel had–a gym, obviously, billiards, a family and an adults only pool (with a hot tub), as well as a jacuzzi in her bathroom. Seeing your excitement at the jacuzzi, she suggested that the pair of you take a dive–she’d let you borrow one of her two swimsuits.

After looking through her luggage, she handed you a black bikini. “You can change first,” she said. You stepped into the bathroom, only a few paces from where you were standing. Peeling off your pants, you noticed the size of the jacuzzi. It wasn’t large. Regardless of where you sat, you’d be in contact with Addison. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, and heat to your cheeks. You tried to shake it off, pulling off the rest of your clothes and putting on Addison’s bikini. As you glared in the mirror, you noticed how it fit you. It wasn’t skimpy, (Addison surely wouldn’t have offered it to you if it was) but you looked good. The lighting in the bathroom placed emphasis on your barely-there abs, and made you look much more toned than you truly were.

Checking yourself out, you decided to pull your hair down from the messy bun it had been in during the day. You weren’t sure why, but you made sure that your hair looked perfect before you exited the bathroom.

Addison stared at you in silence for a moment, checking you out. She seemed to snap out of it quickly, saying, “Sorry. Not used to seeing my bikini on someone else.” You noticed a red tint on her cheeks as she passed you to go into the bathroom, though. You sat on the bed, trying to keep your mind away from imagining Addison in a bikini, even though you’d see her in one in a few moments. You didn’t want to think about it–seeing her collarbone, her shoulders, her waist. God, you couldn’t even think about her legs without your face heating up. Which shouldn’t happen. You couldn’t be thinking about your friend–your coworker–like that.

She opened the door moments later, wearing a pink bikini. You took a mental note of that, Addison’s favorite color is pink, surprisingly. It was like you felt time stop when you saw her. She looked gorgeous, better than you could’ve ever imagined that anyone could. Her voice brought you back to reality.

“I turned on the jacuzzi. So…”

“Right,” you said, and followed her into the bathroom. She got into the bathroom with all the grace you could imagine. You tried to not get distracted, following her into the jacuzzi. You sat across from her, your knees touching. “Must be nice to come home to this,” you joked.

“Oh, yeah,” she smiled. “This thing has to be one of the best ways to unwind.”

“What are the other ways?” you asked, a slight bit of flirtation coming out. You didn’t even realize, not until you had already said it.

“Can’t tell you all my secrets, can I?” Addison flirted back, brushing her knee along your leg. Hearing the ding of her cellphone, Addison reached to the counter behind you, where she’d placed her phone before you’d come into the bathroom. You held your breath at the close proximity. Her stomach was practically in your face, and it took nearly everything in you to not look up. She sighed when she looked at it, but quickly came back down to the jacuzzi, sitting next to you, instead of across from you.

“Hi,” you said, taking a deep breath.

“Hi,” Addison replied, a sly smirk on her face.

“Who was that?”

“Oh, just Derek. Nothing important,” she said, ever-so-slightly moving closer to you. You felt her thigh against yours, and nearly went into cardiac arrest. It was a miracle that you weren’t hooked up to a heart monitor, because she surely would’ve caught on to the fact that you were practically dying from just being near her. Addison pushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Did I ever tell you how much I appreciate you?”

“Uh… you might’ve mentioned it once or twice,” you said, quietly, as Addison started to get closer to you.

“You make my life so much easier by just being in it,” she confessed, looking into your eyes. You swallowed thickly, your breath picking up. “Are you nervous?” Addison asked, picking up on the tenseness radiating from you. When you didn’t answer, she said, “Don’t be nervous. It’s just me.” Leaning forward, Addison placed a soft kiss on your lips. Your hands found their way into her hair, and Addison planted herself on top of your legs. Like something snapped, the kiss heated up, and you felt Addison’s hands running along your sides and then felt a hand along your thigh, and one in your hair. After a few moments, Addison pulled back, resting her forehead on yours. “Good?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Good,” you said. One of Addison’s hands found your neck, pressing on your pulse point.

“Relax, Y/N. I’m gonna have to take you back to the hospital.”

“If it means spending more time with you…” you trailed off, lightly joking. You glared into her eyes. “You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you,” she said, before returning to kiss you. Addison’s hips started to grind against nothing, which didn’t go unnoticed from you. Even though she wasn’t doing much to you–just the feeling of her thighs moving along yours was enough to drive you crazy. It didn’t get easier when she started to slip her tongue into your mouth. You moaned into her mouth, which really didn’t go unnoticed by Addison, as she ran her hand back up to your chest, feeling you up through the bikini she lent you. She pulled back slightly, “having fun?” she asked, while continuing to feel you up.

It took everything in you to not make a sound, which was very evident to Addison. “Mhm…” you hummed in response.

“Oh, come on… Use your words,” Addison commanded lightly.

“Yes. Addison, I need-,” you started, cutting yourself off because of the pleasure that Addison was bringing you.

“What do you need, sweetheart?”

“You. Just… you. All I need is you,” you admitted, breathlessly. Addison’s confident exterior faded, seemingly affected by your statement. She practically lunged toward you, placing her lips on yours roughly. Her hands traveled up and down your back and sides quickly. She lightly pulled on the back of the bikini you were wearing before pulling apart to ask,

“May I?”

You nodded, knowing your words would fail you. You pulled Addison back towards you, and it was now your turn to kiss her roughly. She made a noise of surprise before pulling the strings to your bikini, causing it to fall off completely. Taking her lips off of yours, she began to kiss down your jaw and onto your neck, where she sucked for a moment. Doing it with a doctor really was as good as you’d think. Addison knew all the spots. Moving down, past your neck, she placed light kisses along your collarbone and down onto one of your breasts.��

You couldn’t help the moan that came out of you. “Oh, Addie…” Addison pulled back, scanning your body.

“You’re so beautiful. Perfect,” she decided, bringing one of her hands to your breast. Lightly, she ran her thumb back-and-forth across your nipple, watching your reaction. She took note of your heavy breaths. “Feels good?” You nodded. “Just sensitive?” she questioned.

“Yeah, for you.”

“You’re gonna inflate my ego by saying things like that,” Addie warned.

“Things like what? The truth?”

“Shut up,” Addison said, going to kiss you again. She began to toy with your nipple, loving the way you squirmed under her. You couldn’t help the quiet moans that came out of your mouth. Her other hand found its way to your upper thigh, before she pulled apart again, “Can I-”

“Addison, you can do whatever you want to me,” you cut her off, pulling Addison’s face back to yours. Within seconds, you felt Addison’s hand sliding under your bikini bottom. You lifted your hips instinctively, giving her a better angle. When Addison felt how wet you were, the both of you moaned. When one of her fingers came up to your clit, you whined.

“So, you’re really sensitive, huh?” she asked.

“I already told you-”

“Don’t be ashamed, it’s hot,” Addison told you, slowly sliding one of her fingers inside you.

“Addie…”

“I love when you say my name,” she encouraged. She slowly started to move her finger in and out of you, watching your reactions like a hawk. She could see how riled up you were, how you were desperate. Desperate in need of her. “Babe, take a breath. Slow down.”

When you did take a breath, she kissed you lightly. “That’s my girl.” Addison fully intended to take care of you. This was not going to be quick, she was going to revel in the pleasure she gave you, and as much as she loved seeing your desperation for her, she didn’t want you to tire yourself out too quickly. Again, she placed light kisses on your neck, smiling when she heard you moan. Too focused on her finger inside you, you didn’t even realize when she started sucking on your neck. When she pulled back, she said, “oops.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll see later,” she said, smirking. Before you could respond, she pushed another finger inside you.

“Oh, god, Addison,” you moaned, your head falling back. “This is… You’re making me feel so good.”

“Good. Relax for me,” she instructed. She brought herself back up to your face, beginning to make out with you again, while continuing to move her fingers in-and-out of you at a painfully slow pace, every-so-often brushing against your g-spot. Addison loved this; making you feel so good. It was like second nature. It was one of the best ways to unwind.

Eventually, Addison started to speed up her fingers, and your moans started to get louder and louder. She pulled back, wanting to watch how you squirmed because of her. “Addison,” you breathed. “Addi- Addison… oh my God.”

“Addie, please,” you begged. “Please, Addison, please.”

“You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart,” she encouraged. “Come on…” she muttered. She sped up a little bit more, biting her lip as she focused on making you feel good. It was a combination of seeing Addison biting her lip and her saying, “Come on, be a good girl for me,” that really sent you over the edge. You felt your whole body shake as you tried to slightly hold in your moans (the whole world didn’t need to hear you–only Addison). Your thighs practically crushed Addison’s hand as she helped you ride out your orgasm. Slowly, she pulled her fingers out of you, and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

She moved back to sitting next to you, and wrapped one of her arms around you, pulling you close. You rested your head on her shoulder, trying to catch your breath. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, before Addison got out of the jacuzzi, and began to help you out. She cleaned you up and dried you with a towel, before leading you back to the bed. You sat on the edge of the bed, watching Addison wordlessly as she went to get you pajamas. She placed her Yale hoodie and a pair of sweatpants next to you.

She went into the bathroom with her own pajamas, and you took that as your cue to put her clothes on. When she came back out of the bathroom, you smiled at each other. You’d never seen Addison in anything less than workplace-casual, and she looked adorable, to say the least. Her glasses only added to it–you loved her glasses. And Addison got a kick out of seeing you in her clothes.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, standing in front of you, using one of her hands to guide your jaw, having you look up at her.

“How do you think?”

“Well, I’d hope amazing,” she said, walking to the other side of the bed, and getting under the covers. You followed her lead. You fell asleep quickly, almost as soon as the lights were off. And your dreams were filled with Addison, watching her from the observatory in the operating rooms, and watching as she looked over babies and talked to patients. When you woke, it was because Addison had ordered room service for the both of you, and she was talking to the delivery man. At first, you were confused, not even remembering having fallen asleep. But when you turned and saw Addison standing at the door with her back to you, it all made sense. She still had a little bit of bedhead, but it was adorable.

“Oh, sorry. Did I wake you?” she asked when she’d turned back around and saw you staring at her with a smile.

“Maybe. I don’t mind.”

“I got breakfast,” she said nervously. She climbed back onto her bed, sitting crisscrossed next to you. Of course, you always knew Addison was kind. She was always a good friend, you’d thought, but you never imagined that she was listening to every word you were saying, which became clear when she’d gotten your favorite breakfast; something you mentioned months ago. You ate together, talking about meaningless things over breakfast. She told you about what Derek had texted her last night–asking her about one of their mutual friends back in New York. She told you about the brownstone and the house in the Hamptons. She told you about their odd neighbors.

She asked what you would tell your friends when you went home, what story you would make up. The both of you knew that there was no way you could tell your coworkers about this. Even if she just told Derek, he’d have to tell Meredith, and then word would spread throughout the entire hospital before you even went back to work. You told her, “Oh, you know. I spent the night with a gorgeous man. Tall, red hair, slender hands,” you began. “And he got me breakfast, that’ll give ‘the guy’ brownie points.”

“Wow. I get brownie points?” Addison asked, laughing to herself.

“Whoa, whoa. The mystery man I’m telling my friends about gets brownie points.”

“Of course.” Addison smiled. You left Addie’s hotel room shortly after that, making sure you avoided Mark Sloan and Chief Webber as you left. She offered to let you borrow her Yale hoodie, so you didn’t have to wear your same outfit from yesterday, but you declined. It was too risky, someone at the house would’ve noticed. You left on good terms, though, or so you thought.

Got love-struck, went straight to my head

Got lovesick all over my bed

The days following your night with Addison went by quickly, but torturously. You didn’t talk to Addison for four days, and you were honestly starting to think that Addison was avoiding you purposefully. You’d only caught sight of her a handful of times, but from afar. She was talking to Mark or arguing with Karev. You could even see Mark trying to flirt with her a few times, which would’ve sent you off-the-rails, if you weren’t trying to keep your feelings for Addison under wraps.

You weren’t doing a good job at hiding your feelings generally, though, because as soon as you got home you’d either lay facedown on the couch or immediately make a break for your bed, slamming the door behind you. Your friends knew something was up, but tried to wait it out, at first.

On Thursday, you heard your friends whispering outside your door, until George lightly knocked on your door before barging in anyway. “Hey…” he said cautiously, as if you were a cat about to lash out at him. He sat on the edge of your bed lightly. “You okay?” You took a deep breath, which to George, was a warning. “Right, bad question… is this about the guy from the other day?” You groaned before sitting up.

“It’s just like, how do we sleep together and then you completely don’t speak to me for days? Not one text, George, not one! Actually, we didn’t even really sleep together, he just fingered me and that was it! I would’ve gone further, he stopped it! Isn’t that weird? I mean, I would expect a text, at least. Like, tell me what went wrong or why you don’t want me anymore!”

“Well, maybe-”

“It would be better if I had just met him at a bar or something and it was a one-night-stand, never see you again, sort of thing. But I knew this guy! For a while! I’m gonna see him around at some point, he can’t just avoid me forever!” you continued to rant, cutting George off.

“You know, guys are-”

“It’s really just so dumb. Like you wanted me and initiated the whole thing and now you won’t even speak to me? It’s like, talk to me! You know?” You stared at George for a minute, expecting him to say something. “Say something!”

“I was expecting you to cut me off, again,” he said. “This is gonna sound horrible, but I think you’re just getting in your head about it all. I do the same thing. We should know better than anyone, though, that people have lives. We go weeks without texting people back.” You stared at him for a moment. He was right, even though you hated that fact. You just wanted Addison to want you, but the fact that she was avoiding you made you feel like it was just a one-night thing for her. It wasn’t, for you. For you, you realized that your friendship with Addison had always been a disguise. You always had feelings for Addison, how could you not have? And how could you not have realized that sooner?

You kept talking to George for a while. After some time, you were sure Meredith and Izzie weren’t listening anymore. It was hard talking to George, though, because everything had to be vague. You couldn’t reveal a thing about this man, unless it was a lie. It did help, though. You started to feel more like yourself. Addison was an adult, she’d talk to you at some point, and things would be sorted out. Surely.

Love to think you’ll never forget

Handprints in wet cement

The following day, you’d finally had a reason to talk to Addison. Dr. Bailey had asked you to deliver a file to her, and even though you would’ve rather had anyone else do it, Meredith was the only person nearby. It took a while of looking, but you’d finally managed to find Addison by the nurses’ station. Unfortunately, though, she was talking to Mark. You watched, trying to hide your utter rage, as Mark was clearly flirting with her, and she wasn’t pushing him aside. You walked up to the pair of them, clearing your throat.

“Doctor Montgomery.” She hummed when she turned, not immediately realizing it was you. “This is from Doctor Bailey,” you said, your eyes darting between her and Mark. It was hard to read Addison, but looking in her eyes, you could’ve sworn you saw her trying to hide her guilt.

But Mark… When you turned to leave, Mark said, “Leaving already? We were just starting to have fun!”

“Stop flirting with me, Mark,” you said, walking away quickly. You found an empty closet, and sat on the floor.

Adorned with smoke on my clothes

Lovelorn and nobody knows

Love thorns all over this rose

I’ll pay the price, you won’t

You were starting to feel crazy, really. How could months of friendship with Addison completely fall out of touch? You hadn’t initiated things with Addison, how were you to know that your romance would end any relationship you had had with Addison? After a few more days, the whole hospital knew you were upset. It wasn’t hard to find out—people just had to look at you. When you saw Doctor Burke in passing, even he said something about it. But nobody knew why. Well, that was a lie. People thought they knew why. They thought that it was because you were having guy problems. You were not having guy problems.

It was your turn to avoid Addison, now. There wasn’t a chance that she hadn’t heard about what was going on with you, but you hoped she knew better than to think that it was about a guy. She was smart enough to know it was about her.

To help, your friends tried to find someone else for you. They brought you to Joe’s, (keeping you away from the dartboard, and away from the drinks, they only let you have enough to let loose) and tried to set you up with every man they found. They were cute, you supposed. Their plan really wasn’t working out. They tried for a while, though, you had to give them that. Even Cristina seemed dedicated, though you saw her complain to Meredith often. You had a good enough time, until you were leaving. Alex had showed up at some point, and he took part in trying to get you laid. But once you had decided to leave, he said, “Oh, get over it, already! Let me show you a good time.”

You honestly could not believe him. You knew he was an asshole, obviously. But he’d seen you in pain for weeks, and still said something like that. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you shouted, turning and walking out the door before you could even see his reaction. That was new, from you. Even with Alex always being a douchebag, you’d never yelled at him. You called an Uber, and went home, blasting sad music in your headphones once you’d reached your bed. You don’t know when your friends got home, you didn’t see them until the morning. In the morning, you didn’t eat breakfast, and you barely said anything to your friends. They didn’t say much to each other, either. It was like your presence immediately ruined the mood. You yelled at Alex. Sure, you never yell, but it was Alex, you should be allowed to yell at Alex without Izzie acting like you’d kill her for speaking.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. How could going out with Addison after work one day lead to all this? This was Addison’s doing, and yet you were living your life in misery while her life stayed the same. You’d seen Addison in passing a few times, but only for work. You really didn’t even say hello. It was a week after you yelled at Alex that she paged you.

Seeing Addison at first was fine. You were in your “work mode” and she was just Doctor Montgomery, not Addison. But when she told you to follow her, and she started to lead you to an on-call room, you started to get nervous. This wasn’t work. This was Addison. She locked the door behind you.

“Hey,” she said, clearly nervous, even for herself.

“Hey,” you said back.

“I heard about what happened with Alex,” she grimaced. “I’m sure he deserved it.”

“When does he not?” you said, numbly. It pained Addison to see you like this. There wasn’t the slightest bit of you that was happy. She could see it in your eyes. “Is that all you heard?”

“No.”

“That’s great,” you said, as sarcastic as you could, even with how numb you felt. “Didn’t know you partake in the gossip.”

“I don’t, but people don’t shut up.”

“Right.” Addison took a step closer to you, your back against the door.

“Will you look at me, please?” you stayed looking anywhere but at Addison. You couldn’t do it. It would kill you. “You haven’t looked at me in weeks. Please, look at me.” Even with how upset you were, there was something in Addison’s voice, the genuine pleading, that you couldn’t deny. When your eyes met hers, you saw how glazed her eyes were. She wasn’t crying, but she nearly was. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. Of course, I’m sorry. Do you think I wanted to hurt you, really? Is that the impression I gave you?”

“Doctor Montgomery, you didn’t talk to me for weeks.”

“Doctor Montgomery? You’re calling me Doctor Montgomery?”

“Yes. I am.” You noticed Addison’s breath picking up. She took a step back, and ran a hand through her hair. You couldn’t remember a time where you’d seen her like this.

“I’m… I didn’t mean to do that,” she said. “God, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she continued, sitting on the bed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she whispered, as if she was saying it to herself. You could see how hard it was to keep herself together. Once you realized that, you had a hard time keeping yourself together.

“Addison…” she looked at you. “I don’t…” you began. “There’s a lot that I could say. So much that I could say. But… I just don’t want to do this anymore.” You started to slide down the door, and didn’t stop yourself. “I’m so tired, Addie. I can’t sleep, I can’t breathe. I can’t talk to people, or have people talk to me, and I’m tired of it.” You started to cry, and heard rustling before you felt Addison sitting next to you. You leaned into her. “Can we please stop this? Can we just start over? As friends, or… whatever you want. I just need this to be over.”

“Let me take you to the prom,” Addison said.

“What?” you said. Surely, she did not say “the prom.”

“Didn’t you hear? Richard’s having a prom. Tomorrow.”

“Oh. No, I didn’t hear. Haven’t really been listening to people, recently.”

“Right…”

“I’ll go with you,” you said.

“Really?” Addison asked, a little over-excited, her voice higher than usual.

“Yeah,” you said, a small smile on your face.

“I’ll pick you up at eight?” she suggested.

“Sounds good, Addie.” She pressed a kiss to your forehead before standing, saying she had to go. You scooted over, letting her leave. You sat in the on-call room for a while, smiling to yourself. You figured that for the time being, you’d just tell everyone that the guy finally called, and you worked things out.

But if I’m all dressed up

They might as well be looking at us

And if they call me a “slut”

You know, it might be worth it for once

You had been ready half an hour early, pacing your room, making sure you looked okay. You decided on a baby pink gown (yes, Addison’s favorite color, on purpose) that tied up the back and had a slit. You hadn’t seen Izzie or Meredith yet, since they were busy getting themselves ready, but you had seen George, and he seemed stunned. He said that you looked great, and he would be surprised if you didn’t have men all-over you the entire night.

At 7:55, you were still pacing your room, but with your heels on, now. You heard the doorbell ring at exactly eight. And heard Izzie and George run to the door, you cursed yourself for not being down there already.

“Doctor Montgomery!” You heard your friends say at the same time.

“Nice see you, Doctor Stevens, O’Malley. I’m here for Y/N.”

You came down the stairs just in time to see their faces. They didn’t say anything though, just ran further into the house, probably to try to connect the dots. You left with Addison without a word.

“I got you a corsage,” Addison said, while you were on the porch.

“You did? I didn’t even think about that, I’m sorry.”

“I invited you, thought it would be nice,” she said, sliding the corsage on your wrist. It was red, matching her dress. She looked beautiful. You could’ve stared at her for the whole night, instead of even going to the prom. When you arrived at the prom, you mingled around for a while, trying the punch and doing the photo booth that the hospital had somehow acquired. In one of the pictures, Addison kissed your cheek. You tucked the photostrips into your purse, making a note to give Addison her’s later.

Although you were trying to focus on Addison, and not the people around you, you noticed that it seemed like people hadn’t caught on, yet. People glanced at you occasionally, but it seemed as though that was because you were no longer moody. You and Addison talked about your high school prom experiences. She told you about how she was a band geek, and you told her about how you had a lot of friends. “You were a popular girl?” she questioned, humored.

“I wasn’t a popular girl, I just had a lot of friends!”

“You were a popular girl. That makes so much sense.”

“It’s like social situations come so easy to you. You’re perfect at them. It’s like you always know what to say. You’re so good with patients and their families.”

“Thank you,” you said, taking the compliment whole-heartedly. “I was not a popular girl.”

“Mhm.” Addison smiled at you. The DJ started to play something slow. “Dance with me?” You took Addison’s hand, and she led you towards the dance floor. You stayed near the edge, trying to keep yourself out of the spotlight, but you could tell people were looking anyway. You saw Izzie and George in your periphery, and even Derek and Meredith had stopped dancing to look at you, jaws dropped. You saw Alex looking on from afar, a soft smile on his face. He’d gotten over you yelling at him, and understood the line he crossed (he wasn’t going to apologize). You loved dancing with Addison. Neither of you were dancers, by any means, but it was nice to have her hands on you, especially after being away from her for so long.

When the song was over, she led you away from the prom, and you found an empty room. “I didn’t want people staring at us anymore,” she said. You took steps towards her as she spoke.

“Yeah,” you said, staring at her lips.

“You look beautiful,” Addison said, looking you up and down.

“So do you, Addie.” You took another step towards her, your voice lower than usual.

“You like the red? I wasn’t sure about it.” As soon as she finished her sentence, you pulled her close to you, pressing your lips onto hers. It wasn’t slow, it wasn’t soft. You couldn’t help it anymore. She looked hot, and it was making you feel hot. Addison was a little taken aback at first, but quickly began to reciprocate your kisses. Your hands found her hips, and she whimpered into your mouth. Addie turned the two of you around, pressing you against the examination table, and telling you to jump between kisses. You jumped onto the table, Addison hiking up your dress and standing between your legs. She pulled on the strings to the back of your dress, letting you slightly loose. Addison’s hand gently found its way to your core, lightly rubbing against it. She was giving you the friction you desperately needed. You were ready to let Addison do whatever she wanted to you, until you heard the door open.

You stopped kissing quickly, turning your heads to see Derek. He was standing with his mouth agape. Clearly, not expecting what he saw. Who’s to blame him? Seeing your ex-wife kissing your girlfriend’s roommate had to be shocking. “Derek, you’re gonna start drooling,” Addison said, rolling her eyes.

“Sorry,” he said. “Sorry.” He left quickly, shutting the door behind him. You could see him stand outside of the room for a moment though, surely short-circuiting. When you looked back at Addison, you knew the two of you had to get out of there. She looked hot, too hot, but she also looked like she had just been making out. You must’ve looked like that too. As you left, you started to lose the worry of judgment. Who cares if you’re with Addison? What does it matter if anyone cares, if you had Addie?

The short ride back to your house was fairly silent, but comfortable.

And if I’m gonna be drunk

I might as well be drunk in love

When you got back to the house, you and Addison shared a glass of wine before heading to your room.

“I need you to know that I wasn’t trying to avoid you.”

“I know.”

“But… I need you to really know that. I mean it. I’ve never done this before,” Addison began. “I really want this, though. I really want you. You’ve been my best friend, but I can’t look at you and not think about how perfect you are, and how I just want to make you happy.”

“Okay,” you said.

“You get it?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“So, we’re starting over?” Addison asked.

“Yeah, we can start over,” you confirmed.

“Okay. I’ll be better this time.”

“I know, Addie.”

“Can I spend the night?” You smiled at the thought.

“If you want to? Derek is probably gonna be around. These walls are kinda thin.” you warned. It would surely be weird for Addison to hear her ex-husband getting it on with another woman.

“That’s okay. Thin walls go both ways,” Addison said, smirking. Of course, she’d be up to something. “Do you wanna shower?”

“We are not doing it in the shower. I’m too clumsy.”

“Oh, I know.”

“So, you wanna have a PG-13 shower with me?”

“I am actually interested in you for more than sex. Yes, I would love to shower with you.”

The two of you exited the bathroom just in time to see Derek and Meredith walking to her room. You stood in shock for a moment, but laughed it off. As soon as you and Addison reached your room, she shut the door behind you, locking it, and immediately dropped her towel, pressing her face to yours. You slid your hands along her sides before dropping your own towel. Addison pulled away from you, commanding you to, “get on the bed.” You did as she said, and felt your face heat up when she ended up on top of you, kissing you for a few moments before her mouth found its way to your neck. You couldn’t help your moans, but tried to keep them quiet. Addison laughed to herself.

“Something funny?”

“Just love seeing how I make you feel, babe,” Addison said, causing your legs to tense. She began to kiss down your chest, to your stomach, and to your upper thighs. When she pressed the first kiss to your thigh, you twitched. God, Addison was gonna be the death of you. Addison pressed soft kisses back up your thighs, finding herself at your core. She licked a long stripe up your folds slowly. You moaned loudly. You did not expect this tonight.

“Addie, oh my God,” you whined as she started to pick up her pace, getting more comfortable with her movements. Your legs started to tremble, and you knew it was only a matter of minutes before Addison sent you over the edge. “Addison… Addie, you’re so good at that. Just like that.” Addison continued her pursuit, exactly how you wanted it. “Oh, please don’t stop. Please, Addie, please, don’t stop… Oh my God!” With a few more seconds, your thighs tightened around Addison’s head. Your whole body trembled, and while working you through your orgasm, Addison watched you.

“That was so hot, baby,” she said, clearly turned on.

After taking a moment to breathe, you said, “Addison, please lay down.” She did as you asked, and you began to press kisses to her neck. “I’m giving you a hickey. Payback.” She moaned quietly in response. You’d only given her a small hickey, she could cover it easily, if she wanted to. Post-hickey, you worked your way down to her chest, lightly sucking on her breast. Addison’s moans became more frequent, and it was music to your ears. You would give anything to hear that for the rest of your life. While your mouth was busy with Addison’s chest, one of your hands found its way between her legs. You began by slowly rubbing her clit, gaining a fairly loud moan out of Addie, and then pressing a finger of yours inside her once she seemed prepared. You pulled back from her chest in that moment, wanting to see her reaction.

She threw her head back, closing her eyes, and moaning constantly as you slowly moved your finger in and out of her. “Look at me, Addie.” She opened her eyes lightly, heavy with desire. ‘So pretty, Addison. You’re so perfect for me.” You slid another finger in her, which was easy considering how wet she’d become.

“Y/N,” she moaned. “I’m gonna cum. Don’t stop,” she said. A few moments later, and she was coming undone on your hand. You were honored. How could you not be, having brought this much pleasure to such a perfect woman. She shook intensely. Her chest rising and falling quickly, as she tried to catch her breath. “That was…” she trailed off. “Thanks,” she said. “I’m not done with you, though. Lay down.”

You two laid down for a few moments, as Addison tried to regain her composure. Once she did, she was practically full energy as her hands found their way to your core. “Addie…” you moaned quietly.

“Yes, baby?” she asked, as she slid two fingers inside you.

“Oh, fuck. I’m not gonna last, Addie.”

“I know,” she replied, a smirk on her face as she worked her fingers in and out of you. She began to move her fingers inside you quickly, pressing against your g-spot over-and-over. She had you exactly how she wanted you to in mere seconds.

“Addison,” you warned between heavy breaths. “Addison, please. Addie… Addie, I’m gonna cum for you.”

“Come on, sweetheart. Cum for me. Be a good girl and cum for me,” her words sent you over the edge for the second time that night. When Addison pulled her fingers out of you, she laid next to you, the both of you tired out for the night. She wiped her fingers on a tissue, before helping you under the covers.

“Did you plan on that happening?” you asked her. At the beginning of the night, you hadn’t even considered having sex with Addison.

“Not really, but it is prom night, after all,” she said, pulling you into her arms. “Get some rest, sweetheart,” Addison said. She was warm, and being in her arms felt amazing. Your mind wanted to go a hundred miles a minute, thinking about everything that just happened. You told yourself you would think about it tomorrow, whenever you weren’t busy answering the questions from your friends. Sleep came first. Especially if Addison told you so.

#addison montgomery #addison montgomery x reader #addison montgomery x reader smut #greys anatomy #greys anatomy x reader #greys anatomy x reader smut #wlw #wlw smut #sapphic #x reader #god i love her soooo bad #shes so ofmihflskhklgjh

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laneywrld · 7 months ago

Text

things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton

part two

word count: 10k

warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.

A man not made for commitment also doesn’t know how to communicate

It's safe to say that since that night in Cannes nearly two months ago, the lines have blurred.

Every night Clem spends with Lewis ends with her falling asleep nestled in his arms.

Some nights, they don't even have sex; he just calls her up to see him.

Their outings are no longer limited to his bedroom or whatever hotel he's shacked up in. They're often found all over tabloids and fan pages, seen out at clubs or dinners or even on simple excursions such as shopping or taking walks.

Clementine tries her hardest to remember that Lewis was noncommittal. He would never ever even think about dating her or taking her seriously. That realization and his vocally telling her to not make things weird every time he can see that he catches her off guard keeps her on track.

Clem knew what she signed up for; quite literally, the NDA she signed entailed every component of their relationship.

Besides the weird butterflies she got around Lewis, life was only getting better and better.

Being around someone who understands her fully and allows her to completely unravel herself to them has really been good for Clem socially and career-wise.

She was less awakward around people, less reserved and she felt like hey, this man has accepted me for my every little flaw, why wouldn't other people.

She was moving up in the world, and people loved her for who she was, and for the first time ever, she did too.

She's won an emmy for her netflix show, her movie was breaking records, and she was finally stepping out of her box and showcasing other skills she had.

Along with this new burst of confidence came new relationships.

She's been trying to go out on dates to see if now was finally the time for her to try to settle down and find something serious.

That what she was doing currently, at dinner sitting across from some NBA players as he rambles on and on about different shots he couldve taken during the game, that he most definitely lost.

Clem hums, eyes feigning interest as he describes how he actually wasn't open when he tried to go for a three-pointer. Shocker, he missed.

When he excuses himself to run to the bathroom, she whips out her phone, seeing that Lewis texted her.

Lewis 🏁

How's your date?

She shakes her head, typing out her response.

dense. how's silverstone?

Lewis 🏁

Nerve-wracking, my car is still shit.

i'm sorry 😞

Lewis 🏁

I'm going to need you tonight.

Lewis, i'm on a date.

Clem scoffs, but the smile on her face as she presses send is misleading.

Lewis 🏁

Is he getting lucky tonight?

NO!

Lewis 🏁

So why can't I?

Clem feels the familiar tingle in her core and places her phone face down on the table just as her date takes his seat in front of her again.

She can't help the incredulous eyebrow raise she gives him as she sees a powdery substance painting his nostril.

"Yeah, it was nice meeting you, love." She smiles politely as she stands and motions for him to wipe his nose. He lifts his camera just as Clem drops enough money to cover her bill and tip the waitress generously.

She hops into the black SUV, thanking her driver for helping her into the back. She unlocks her phone and sees another message from Lewis.

Lewis 🏁

My jet will be waiting for you.

That is precisely how Clementine ended up in Lewis' hotel room, waiting for him on the bed as he took a quick shower.

When he emerges from the bathroom she can only offer him an uplifting smile, he looks so tired and so stressed.

It helps, it always does which is why Lewis wanted her here in the first place. She was like sunrise after the darkest of nights.

"Hi," she coos, opening her arms for the muscly man.

He falls into her arms, his torso bare and his bottom half swaddled in a towel. He lays his head in her lap as she sits against the headboard. He looks up at her face as she stares down at his, and she physically pouts as she brings her fingers up to massage the stress lines from his face.

"That bad?" she whispers as his eyes flutter closed. Lewis sighs, grumbling out a faint "Yeah."

"You don't have to go through it much longer, at least." She tries and she knows it does nothing to take the heavy weight of mercedes off of his shoulders.

"You feel like you're carrying the weight of the world." She hums, her hands traveling down to rub the tension out of his neck. Her fist rubs up and down from the sides of his neck to the crook of his shoulders.

Lewis lets out a relaxed sigh, letting her work on him.

She doesn't know how long she sits there with him snuggled into her lap as she kneads the tension from his body.

After a while, she connects to his speaker and plays music. She has Lewis turn over onto his stomach as she slips from underneath him.

She hums as she sits on his bottom and begins massaging his back. "Your back is bruised."

"I was bouncing around like crazy in that fucking car." He curses.

Clementine bends down, pressing kisses around his back on the purple and red marks adorning his skin.

Lewis closes his eyes, relishing in the comfort she gives him.

Lewis has noticed it, too, the turn their dynamic has taken. He is aware that he has given slight leeway to the emotional part of their relationship.

He finds himself thinking about Clem plenty throughout the days. Buys things he thinks she'll like. He's grown accustomed to placing delicate pecks on her lips and face randomly throughout their time together; he can't help it.

Something about her has him wanting her all of the time, not even in th physical way. He just wants her to be with him.

"Can you come out to the race tomorrow?" He rasps.

She sits up, her legs still encaging his body. "Hmm, I don't think your publicity team will like that, people are already speculating about us."

"I don't care." Lewis argues, "It's about time you come to a race, wanna see you immediately not wait to get to the hotel and then see you."

His words make her heart thump harsher, and suddenly, all of the warnings from her publicist dissipate.

"Okay."

Lewis didn't initiate sex between them that night. He simply turns over with her still on top of him and places his hands on her thighs.

"Come here," he whispers, reaching up to tug her head down to his face.

Their lips lock and it's not rushed or leading to anything. It's like how he kissed her in France. It's just sweet?

She can feel his heart against her chest as she is pressed against him, beating rampantly. "Thank you for showing up for me." He mutters against her lips. She grins against him as she remembers the words she scribbled onto the note she'd given him with her gift.

"Always." she breathes, diving back in to kiss him. One hand travels to her waist, and the other has a soft grip on the back of her neck.

She feels his member poke against her thigh, and she sits up as much as she can with his hand on her neck, ready to free him from the towel, but the hand he had on her waist stops her actions with a grip on her wrist.

"I just want to lay with you tonight, if that's okay?"

Just when she thought she was safe from her tom-foolish thoughts, she felt her suppressed feelings for Lewis take light again. Don't make it weird, she thinks to herself. "Okay."

Lewis sits up, his hand returning to her hip; she is sat in his lap, legs folded, and his body pushes her slightly back as he tugs on the comforter. He falls back taking her with him and pulls the thick comforter over her body which lays against his chest.

"What's one thing that surprised you about me?"

Clem traces her fingers on his chest in deep thought, "that you don't do relationships."

"Why that?"

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis presses a kiss to her hairline, butterflies doing summersaults in his belly.

They wake up the next morning in the same position, with Clem's face nestled in the crook of his neck. Lewis smiles as he reaches over to turn off his alarm.

"Gotta get up, Clem." He soothes, rubbing up and down her back.

"Mhmm." She moans in denial, cuddling deeper into him. "No."

"Come on, beautiful."

He sits up, forcing her up with him.

She flutters her eyes open and wraps her arms around his neck.

He chuckles at her defiance, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He taps her thigh and she gets the message, wrapping them around his waist.

He walks her into the bathroom and sits her down on the bathroom counter. "Sit here, be careful." He orders, unraveling her from his body. He almost gives up and tucks her back into bed as she whines at him.

He leaves the bathroom and returns with a small bag of hers. She slumps against the mirror as she hears him rustling about. When she hears the faucet turn on and then feels his big hands massage circles into her cheeks, she opens her eyes.

There, she sees Lewis standing there with a cheeky smile, his hands lathered in her face soap as he massages the suds onto her face.

"Going to have to get my girl ready myself, huh?" He questions.

She only smirks at him and closes her eyes, letting him work through her skincare routine step by step, laughing as he inquires about every product.

When he finishes, he washes his own face and then passes her toothbrush to her. He stands between her legs as they both brush their teeth. Both of them stare at each other with googly eyes, laughing as foam bubbles from their mouths. When she leans over to spit into the sink, he follows shortly after and then pours a capful of mouthwash for her and them himself. And again, they stare into each other's eyes, giggly and gleaming, as they swish the liquid between their puffy cheeks.

This is where Clementine struggled with the status of their agreement. These weren't the actions of a man who didn't intend to be in a relationship. But she had heard of Lewis and his many flings and "friends" and she knew that he was a very affectionate person so once again she willed away the thought that there was any chnace of Lewis ever straying away from his bachelor lifestyle.

She pats his shoulder beckoning him to step away, when he does she hops down and releases the last of the contents from her mouth into the sink and stepping aside so Lewis can do the same.

"I'm going to grab my clothes." She informs.

As she lays her outfit options across the bed, she hears a vibration beneath her shirt, and she leans over the bed, patting until she finds the culprit. When she feels the device, she pulls it from underneath and sees that it's not her phone but Lewis'.

The screen lights up with notifications.

One catches her eye from, Natalie.

Lewis did feel comfortable enough to disclose his other flings to her, and she nearly shit herself when he associated them all with cities. She remembers the way he laughed when she asked if she needed to get tested. Then she asked if he had referred to her as Clementine, NYC.

Natalie, Silverstone. She recalls.

It wasn't like she was intentionally snooping, but as the screen lit up in her hand again, she couldn't help but read the message as it appeared.

Still on for tomorrow?

At first, she feels a pang in her chest, but then she remembers her place, and she gently sits his phone on the nightstand, allowing the screen to turn off.

"Hey, you okay?" Lewis questioned, poking his head from the bathroom, realizing that she had stopped responding to him.

She is stood facing the bed with her hands on her hips, scanning her oufits. "Yeah," she smiles though it doesn't quite meet her eyes.

He eyes her quizically, but when she chuckles at his facial expression, pulls her outfit from the bed, and saunters into the bathroom with him, he relaxes.

Clem is in her head, and she hopes it's not obvious to Lewis.

But she can't help but wonder why he would fly her out just to make plans to sleep with another woman in the span of two days.

She's hurt, and she's jealous, and she knows she shouldn't be, but a part of her wants to slap the shit out of him.

Instead, she refrains and plays into whatever sick bullshit he was playing with her heart unintentionally.

She arrives to the paddock with Lewis and she tries not to grimace as he tells a journalist that he brings friends with him to races all of the time, as they pass by.

He opens the door to the Mercedes motorhome like the proper gentleman he is and directs her into his room.

"I'm just going to change into my suit, and then we can head to the garage, okay?"

She nods and pulls out her phone. Already, she sees that they are trending.

Lewis steps out of the room and leaves the door open. A few minutes pass before she hears an audible gasp.

When she looks up, she sees a bright-eyed George Russell.

"Hello, Hi! I'm George, I'm a big fan." He enters the compact room, his hand outstretched before him. She stands from Lewis' bed and accepts his hand.

"Hi, George, I'm Clem."

"I know who you are. What are you doing here?" He wonders.

"I'm a friend of Lewis'. I wanted to see you guys race today."

George stutters out a wow, beginning to ramble on before he is interrupted by a throat clearing at the door. There stands Lewis, with a burning look on his face that makes George immediately drop her hand.

"Lewis." He gasps, "How do you literally know everyone, man?"

She smiles, raising her eyebrows behind Lewis as George rambles about her.

Lewis claps his hands against George's shoulder before speaking, "I love you, kid. But we've got to get going."

And then he reached his arm around George and latched onto Clem and pulled her from behind him.

George stammers out a quick bye, and Clem waves sweetly at him as Lewis pulls her from the motorhome and towards the garage.

"He's so sweet," Clem coos, and Lewis only grunts out a "yeah."

"He looks like a literal prince charming." She extends.

Lewis doesn't want to hear her call his teammate any more kinds of cute, so he opts not to respond.

When they finally reach the garage, he is sitting her down beside Toto, who introduces himself with a warm and welcoming smile.

She accepts his hand, gently shaking it, and in return, Lewis gets whisked away.

She enjoys her time in the garage, whilst Lewis talk to his strategist she is sat beside Toto and a few engineers and she feels like she is on a field trip as they explain the many different parts of their setup. Finally Lewis appears at her side again, beckoning her to follow him. She accepts his hand, lifting from her seat and walking hand in hand with him to his car.

"Wow." she gasps as she studies the racing car.

"You want to get in?" Lewis questions. She turns to him with wide eyes, and Lewis can see the excitement in her dark orbs.

"You don't like people in your car." She reminds, peering back down at it.

"I said I don't let just anyone in my car, are you just anyone?" He is staring at her so intensely it has her body on fire.

She felt shy underneath his gaze as he stepped closer to her.

She stands tall, looking up at him through her lashes. He's nearly bumping chests with her as he looms over her.

"There's an entire team in here, Lewis, and cameras." She whispers only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

He doesn't care. He leans down, his mouth near her ear, "Are you just anyone to me, Clementine?"

She swallows nervously as he takes a step back, "No."

"Then get in the fucking car."

Toto watches on from his seat in amazement as Lewis lifts her frame into the car. He then turns and looks into the camera with his eyebrows raised as to show his impressment.

He put two and two together that she was a personal guest for Lewis. It was obvious since Mercedes had already planned for Tom Cruise and Damson Idris' arrival for the race today.

Lewis leans into the car as he motions to different parts on the inside of the automobile.

Clem honestly couldn't give two fucks about the car, but she was relishing in how passionate Lewis looked and sounded as he spoke about every aspect of it. She hadn't moved her eyes from his face not once, and Lewis froze as he turned to face her and saw the wanting look adorning her features.

It has him hard instantly.

"Behave." He warns, turning his head to survey their surroundings.

"You're fine as fuck when you're talking cars."

Lewis chuckles, and a blush comes up to cover his cheeks. He lifts his hand, his knuckles skimming along her jaw.

"I want to kiss you, but people will see."

She drops her face against his hand, puckering her bottom lip out at him.

"Aw, too bad." She whispers seductively, and Lewis whispers out a quiet "fuck." as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. His thumb reaches up and drags it back out.

"Gotta be nice to me right now, Clem. Hmm?" He hums, not bothering to remove his thumb from her lip. He smears his finger across, watching as it pops back into place.

"Help me out of this car." She smirks, lifting her arms, "Before you do something you'll regret, there are cameras around."

"I don't give a fuck about the cameras." He rasps and breaks out into a grin when she bursts into a fit of laughter. He smacks his teeth, standing up straight, preparing to get her out.

"You like fucking with me." He declares.

Lewis helps her from the car, his hands probably lingering on her lower back for far too long once she's back on the ground.

"Lewis." He hears, and when he turns around, he sees Tom and Damson.

He pulls Clem with him, introducing her to the pair. He instantly regrets it when he sees the way Damson eyes her down like she's a refreshing tall glass of water.

Tom starts up a conversation with Lew about the business they need to handle for his upcoming movie, but his eyes can't leave Clem's frame, and how Damson brings her hand up to his lips.

He feels like a suicidal maniac when he watches her laugh and smile at whatever he is saying.

He'd met him before, and trust, whatever he was saying couldn't possibly be that funny.

Lewis wants to rip Toto's head off as he directs the two of them into a set of empty seats. He was less than present during the conversation with Tom, and he hoped he hadn't noticed. His arms are folded over his chest, and his foot is tapping the ground anxiously. He tries not to make it obvious when he directs Tom to his spot and takes his in order to keep an eye on Clem.

When the time for the start of the race gets closer he is thankful to see Tom take his place beside Toto.

He saunters over to the still chatty pair and stands in front of Clem. He waits for her to notice him, and when she doesn't, he clears his throat rather dramatically.

She stands when she notices him, shooting Damson an apologetic smile that has him ready to drag her off. Which he does.

He pulls her to a corner of the garage and up the stairs into a random office and locks the door.

"You okay." Clem questions, stepping towards him and placing her hands on his waist. "Lewis." she tries again when he doesn't answer.

He looks stressed and zoned out.

"I- uh yeah." he coughs and suddenly he feels better having her away from Damson. "i'm fine, pre-race jitters." He lies.

Her hands slide up his chest until they settle on the sides of his head.

She tilts his head so that he's staring into her eyes.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"I'm regretting this." He admits and her eyes squint, "bringing you here, I mean."

That does nothing to alleviate her hurt expression, so he continues, "My car is still shit, I don't want you to watch me lose."

She scoffs, gently slapping her hand against his shoulder before returning it to its place caressing his beard. "Would’ve watched you lose at home too, what's the difference. I'm going to support you all the same."

Lewis leans down and presses a short, soft kiss to her plump lips.

Her eyes flutter closed as he stares down at her, and finally, his hands raised to her hips, pulling her into him. "I don't think that I tell you thank you enough for all of the ways you help me, Clem."

"You don't have to," she whispers, dropping her forehead against his chest. He rests his chin on top of her head, putting his arms over her shoulders as hers wraps around his torso.

Lewis likes this. He thinks he can start every race for the rest of his career like this. When he hears a knock on the door, he groans but shoots Clem a warning look as she chuckles at him.

"Big baby." she teases, moving around him to unlock the door. He maneuvers behind her, reaching to open it, and when he does, he sees Toto there with a knowing smirk.

"Time to race, Lewis."

She allows Lewis to pull her from the office hand in hand, and she knows her publicist is probably in New York and stressed running through cigarettes. She always joked that this Lewis rendezvous would result in her smoking her stress away.

Lewis knows something is wrong with him for sure when he realizes that he doesn't care about the camera or who's watching him show Clem his affection. He knows they're going to be the main topic of every tabloid tomorrow, and he just doesn't care.

She stands in front of him beside his car as the crew bustles around them.

When it's time for Lewis to finish his preparation, he motions his head towards Clem, and suddenly, her hands are stuffed with a balaclava and a pair of gloves.

She turns to the man who handed them to her and he offers her a small smile.

She turns to Lewis, and he can tell she's trying to fight off the grin that desperately wants to appear.

She reaches for his right hand, tugging the glove onto his hand gently, she checks each finger and pulls to make sure the fit is snug. She repeats her actions on his left hand and then Lewis firmly places his hands on her waist. He's looking at her with those sparkly eyes and a loving smile.

She turns the balaclava in her hands, trying to figure out which way to pull it over his head. When she sees the opening, she lets out an "Aahh" that has Lewis chuckling at her.

She stands on her tiptoes, freeing his braids from the ponytail and pushing them back. She hums to herself as she pulls the balaclava over his head.

She settles back on her feet, and she can only see his eyes, but it does something to her.

She reaches between them pulling the upper half of his suit up his body, giggling when he grunts realizing he's got to let go of her to push his arms through the sleeves.

His hands are back on her in an instant, like by not physically touching her he'd fly away.

Clem reaches between them again; this time, her fingers latch onto the zipper, and she tugs it up from his pelvis all the way up his chest until it's set in place.

"I don't know, Lew. I think we've at least got a podium." She whispers, accepting the helmet.

She steps back, allowing his hands to fall, and then hands him the helmet.

"I can feel it in my bones."

"Oh," Lewis laughs, "Can feel it in your bones?" He sticks out his free hand, tickling at her.

Clementine laughs, stepping back and gripping his arm, "Stop!"

He listens, pulling on his helmet and looking back at his car.

"Well, that's me."

Clem feels like a lovesick puppy as she watches his eyelashes flutter with every blink of his eyes.

"Podium." She reminds him, lifting her pinky.

"Podium." He declares, wrapping his own against hers. He lifts their conjoined hands and places them against his helmet where his mouth would be, and she swoons.

"Get in the car, Hamilton."

She's a giddy mess as she steps away from him and finds herself accepting a seat from one of the crew members.

She sighed while watching the screen as Lewis started in P5. He is quickly into P4. She feels her adrenaline kick in as the crew cheers excitedly watching him overtake into third. When he overtakes two other drives all in the same lap the garage erupts in shouts of excitement, just for that to be taken away just as fast when they see a car barrel through off od the track and into the fence.

Clem gasps, her hand coming up to cup her mouth.

She knew Formula One was a dangerous sport, but watching a wreck like that happen in real-time has her mind reeling on just how much danger Lewis puts himself in.

"Is he okay?" She hears as the crew all talk amongst themselves.

"George is out of the race. The other driver is okay." Toto announces, "We're restarting."

Lewis is back in the garage, and he is irritated.

Clem stays back and out of his way as she watches him angrily rant. "That is not right, Toto." He snaps, "back in fifth?"

She watches as Toto nods at him, and Lewis turns to his assistant, rolling his eyes. He looks so frustrated as he throws his hand out, "fucking fifth."

Clem knew that when she was angry that she didn't like to be bothered, so she stayed in her seat. She feels a body plop down beside her, and she turns to see Damson.

"Intense, yeah?" He questions.

"Most definitely." She sighs, "My adrenaline is off the charts right now."

"First time coming to a race?"

She nods, returning the question, "Nah, this is like the NFL to Brits."

She laughs, "Right."

The two chat whilst the rest of the garage is in shambles, and Lewis watches the two with slits in his eyes.

He knows he shouldn't be jealous. Clem was nothing to him but a friend who he enjoys fucking. It's what he tells himself as Damson passes his phone to her. She was just his friend. He'd even encouraged her to get out there and find her person.

But that was before he realized how differently she made his heartbeat.

Lewis doesn't bother going over to her before the race restarts, he can feel her lingering eyes as he manuevers around the garage, avoiding her.

Lewis feels a bit enraged. Initially, it was just the FIA and their stupid fucking rules, then it was the car, and now it was Clementine and the stupid British actor drooling over each other in his face.

It was all piling on top of him, and he hadn't felt so unsettled ever before a race.

He hops back into his car, not sparing Clem a glance, and rolls out into P5.

This time the only thing on his mind is how fucking mad he is.

That anger got him P3.

He doesn't know why he doesn't approach Clem as she waits for him patiently in her seat. He goes around and thanks the crew and the engineers and has a brief talk with Toto and Tom. And then he leaves to go to the podium, all without even glancing at her.

Clem, always aware, remains silent and tries to keep the pout from taking place on her face.

She tries not to take Lewis' actions personal, it's obvious he's wound up. She doesn't know if it's something she did or if he's still frustrated by the race restart. Logically it's the second, she's learned that not everyone's behaviors have to do with her. It's taken years of her enternalizing other people's moods to realize that 9/10 people are just feeling things. She hasn't done anything, she's sure of it.

She is directed into the motorhome whilst Lewis handles other business and she sits in his room on his bed waiting patiently.

When Lewis had brought up the idea of bringing her to the race yesterday, he raved on and on about how she'd be able to walk the track, wait with his team whilst he's on the podium (if he got one), and get the classic guest experience. She hadn't gotten that, which was a letdown since she really wanted to experience Lewis' world, but she understood why that wasn't possible today after seeing Lewis' mood.

But still, it would have been nice not to sit in his motorhome and then the garage all day, just to end up back in his motorhome alone for hours.

When Lewis emerges into the tiny room he is clean and dressed in comfortable clothes. He had been on the phone in the office preparing a few arrangements for the past hour. He sighs as he sees her frame sprawled across the tiny bed.

There are soft puffs of air escaping her, and her phone is clutched loosely in her hand.

He can tell she fell asleep scrolling through her phone.

He sits on the foot of the bed at her feet and drops his head into his hands.

He doesn't know what he's doing. But he does know he can't keep going on like this. Lewis didn't like relationships, he didn't like being tied down, it wasn't fair of him to only want Clem to himself when she would never get all of him.

"C'mon Clem, let's get you back."

Like the sleepy girl she is, she whines as Lewis pulls her body from the bed, placing her on her feet.

"Can you walk?"

She only nods, reaching over to grab her bag and her phone. She doesn't speak to Lewis quite yet, still unsure of his mood. She lets him direct her from the motorhome, his hand tight in hers as he leads her through the paddock. It is so late at night that there are rarely any people hanging around. When they exit and get to his car, the flashes from the cameras wake her up even more, and she uses the back of her hand to block the lights.

Lewis walks her to the passenger side, waiting for her to slip in before he closes the door gently and goes around to his seat.

He pulls out cautiously and begins their trek to the hotel.

Clem forces herself to stay awake, knowing that it's only a short drive.

Still, she is waiting for Lewis to speak, but he doesn't.

"I had fun," she announces.

"I'm glad."

"You got podium." She cheers lowly.

Lewis only offers her a small smile, and uncertainty settles in her gut. Something's not right.

She gives up trying to talk to him after that.

The car is filled with tension and awkward silence. It's so unlike them.

When they pull into the hotel, Clem doesn't wait for the valet to open her door. She clambers out and thanks god as the night breeze fills her lungs. She's never felt so suffocated around Lewis.

As Lewis exchanges formalities with the man she rushes into the hotel and onto the elevator, when she reaches the room she unlocks it with the secondary key taking a moment to gulp down a glass of water.

Lewis follows in behind her shortly after, paying her no mind as he goes to the bathroom and emerges with his shirt and jewelry off.

"You got an attitude?" Lewis questions, standing in the doorframe.

"No, I don't."

"I know you, Clementine." Lewis rasps, coming to stand over her as she sits on the bed.

"You're the one with the nasty ass attitude." She huffs, reaching up to nudge him away from her. He doesn't budge.

"Lose the attitude, Clem." He orders, and she rolls her eyes.

"Or what, Lewis?" She pushes.

Lewis' hand is at her neck in a second. His grip is not tight at all, just holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. Just as frustrated as he is, she returns the kiss.

"Got something for that attitude," Lewis grunts, pushing her onto her back.

She gasps as he roughly pulls at her pants.

He has them off before she knows it, and his hand lets go of her neck and travels down to pull at her panties. He rips them off of her with a hunger in his eyes like no other.

"Gotta fuck it out of you, Clem?" He asks.

He doesn't give her time to answer as he sinks down to his knees at the end of the bed and pulls her down with him. He lifts her legs over him and wraps his arms around her thighs. His hands settle on her thighs, keeping them apart, and he stares up at her one last time before connecting his mouth to her clit.

She jumps, but his hands hold her in place.

He removes his lips from her bundle of nerves, his tongue traveling down to swipe through her crease. She moans lightly as she fists at the sheets. His fingers travel up to replace his mouth, and he digs them deep into her core, his tongue flicking against her clit before he presses it flat and moves up and down.

Clem gasps as he curls his fingers inside her and suckles extra hard on her. Her hand shoots down to push him away, but he catches her wrist in his free hand, holding it against the mattress.

He stares up at Clem, the whole scene naughty and erotic. He lets her other hand come down to rest in his hair.

Lewis moans into her, his mouth sending a wave of vibrations through her body. Lewis never took his eyes off of her, watching as she writhed above him. He was showing her no mercy as the gushy sounds filled the room.

She tasted so good.

Lewis worked his tongue around her clit, teasing her only for a minute before he smushed his mouth over it again and suckled just the right amount, his fingers still thrust in and out of her, driving her absolutely insane. He moans into her pussy and trails his mouth down to swallow where she is oozing.

Lewis lets her captivating moans egg him on as he devours her like a starved man. He can feel it when she comes when her tight, spongy pussy constricts around his fingers. He happily licks up the juices she releases as she comes undone.

He pulls his fingers from her core and stands, quickly turning her body over. She lands on her stomach with a slight "oomph" noise and turns to look back at Lewis.

He wastes no time hammering into her from behind. He grabs her arms pulling them behind her back and crossing her wrists; with one hand, he holds them against her back, and with the other, he swats at her ass. Groaning as he watches it ripple.

"Fuck."

Clem can do nothing but pant underneath him and let out pathetic mewls as his hand repeatedly strikes her ass. It hurts so good.

Lewis keeps pounding into her hard, his heart racing as he chases his own orgasm. He sees her phone light up beside him, and a message from Damson appears.

When he sees this, he speeds up his thrusts, gliding his thick member in and out of her suffocating walls.

She can only blubber out useless moans as he plummets in and out of her.

He lets go of her wrist, pulling her up onto all fours.

"You get a thrill out of pissing me off?" He grunts, his hand going up to grip her hair.

"No!" she whines, gripping the covers.

"I think you do."

His other hand is gripping her waist, pulling her back to him every time she falls forward.

"Nuh-unh." He orders from behind her, letting go of her hair and holding on to her waist tightly with both hands now.

"Don't run from it, baby. You wanted this, huh? This what you want?"

Clem rasps out a choked yes, her head falling at the intense pleasure running through her veins.

Lewis sounds like a beast behind her, all strangled up and growling out praises at her.

He feels so possessive as his hand lifts and smacks at her ass again. "Fucking, mine." He growls, and Clem falls forward. He doesn't stop as her legs give in, and she drops to the bed again. He climbs behind her, still keeping his pace, and throws his head back as she quivers around him like a candle on fire.

He can feel the heat building in his core, and it eggs him on as he places his hands on her ass, holding her in place.

Clementine spasms beneath him, never experiencing an orgasm like this before. Her heart feels like it's beating outside of her chest as her ears ring and her eyes roll to the back of her head. She can only curse over and over as she feels Lewis drag out of her and return again with much more force.

This was the best sex she'd ever gotten in her life.

Her walls clenched around him, her breath hitching as he moved aimlessly in and out of her.

Lewis shuddered at the feeling, sucking in a sharp breath at the sensation. She is face down, panting into the mattress as he pants above her.

She can't count how many times she has come undone underneath him, but as she feels another orgasm approaching, she can't help the way her thighs tremble underneath Lewis.

Lewis is an incoherent, mumbling and moaning mess above her as he allows himself to succumb to her squeezing cunt, clamping over him. Lewis falls into the abyss, pleasure washing over both of them as he spills into her.

He pulls out with a hiss, shuddering at his sensitivity, and falls over beside Clementine, who rolls onto her back.

"Woah." she pants.

Lewis feels her phone vibrate and he watches as she scambled down the bed to get it, he feels green as he watches her smile at the screen.

Just as she moves to lie beside him again, he speaks up with words that make her feel dismayed.

"I booked you a room."

He turns away from her, staring at the ceiling.

"I- What?" She stutters, turning to face him.

"It's just a floor below, suite 909."

Clem is distraught, and it shows on her face as she jumps away from the bed as if Lewis has burned her. "Lewis, what-"

Her words are cut off as her phone vibrates in her hand. Lewis chuckles dryly, finally tilting his head to face her. Suddenly Clem feels like a little girl again, wondering why her parents never made an effort in her life, wondering why it was so easy for them to push her aside like they didn't care that she existed.

"What's the matter? Are we okay?" She rambles.

Stop talking, Lewis. He thinks to himself as he watches Clem's eyes flash with wetness. Even sad, she has doe eyes, still shining, but this time, there are tears in her eyes and an intense sadness.

"Yeah," he should’ve stopped there, but he kept going. "I'll probably see you tomorrow. If not, it'll be the next time I need you." He motions to the bed.

Clem frowns, letting out an exhale as she bends down to tug on her pants. As she maneuvers around the room collecting her suitcase, Lewis calls out to her. "I put the room key beside your toiletry bag."

She slips into the bathroom, picking up her small bag, and sure enough, the keycard is there. She grasps it in her hand and walks out. She wants to scream at him, tell him how big of a dick he's being, but she's not that kind of person.

She is graceful. But it's taking everything in her to channel the lessons her grandpa has taught her when she is this mad, this hurt.

Clem avoids looking at Lewis as she latches onto her suitcase.

"Maybe you should start considering finding someone who's serious, Clementine."

Is this what this is about? She knew the blurred lines would come back to bite her in the ass eventually.

She freezes, her back turned to him as her hand pauses on the door handle. And her body shakes slightly as a her frown deepens, she feels a stream of tears flow down her cheeks.

And just when Lewis thinks that Clem is going to turn around and argue with him, probably throw something at him and shout at him, she doesn't.

She lifts one hand, swiping at her face, and then softly opens the door and leaves without so much as looking back at him. The door clicks shut behind her, and she walks on down the hallway towards the elevator.

The words don't react, echoing over and over in her head, but as she hears the wheel rolling on her suitcase, she can't help but feel the trembling in her body. She presses her lips together, stepping onto the elevator, and as the doors close, she lets out a gutwrenching sob.

She sniffles as she steps into the suite. Rushing to the bathroom to shed her clothes, she showers wiping all traces of Lewis Hamilton from her body the way she wishes she can erase him from her mind. She scrubs harshly, eyes still full with tears, between the scorchingly hot water, steam and the tears she can barely see anything as she scrubs severely.

For the first time since agreeing to this arrangement, she feels used by Lewis. She's never felt so dirty in her life. As she sank down to her knees, feeling the wails rip through her body with force, she realized why exactly his words and actions hurt her so much.

It didn't matter how much she showed up for him or how much she allows herself to be his shrink and him hers, it'd always be a bad religion, loving someone who'd never love you back.

Lewis is in the same position he has been in since she left, flat on his back with his hands covering his face. His body is quivering as sobs rack through his body.

It was a tough decision, but it was one that had to be made. He could never give Clem what she deserved; he wasn't a committed person. Seven years on and off with the same person is proof of that. He could never be okay with putting her through that.

Lewis wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and lingering loneliness.

He always felt like this when he woke up without Clem in his arms. As he sits up and swipes his hands over his face, his heart aches when he notices her ripped panties thrown on the floor.

He regrets his actions.

He wishes he would've sat her down nicely and explained how things were getting too deep for him. It's Clem, she would've understood.

He realizes just how bad he fucked up when her giddiness to lay beside him last night flickers through his mind like a clip from a movie.

"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk?"

He feels like he's been shot when her hurt face replays over and over. He treated her like shit last night, all because he was scared of what she made him feel.

He was a mess during yesterday's race; all he could think about down every straight and around every curve was how much he liked Clem, how good she made him feel, and bad she could make him feel just as easily.

He realized that the woman had too much control over his heart yesterday, and he couldn't take that. This was supposed to be fun, casual fun. He never inteded to catch feeling for Clementine Russell, but she was the kind of girl who made you drop to her feet.

He never stood a chance against her charm.

He scrambled from the king-sized bed, rushing to his phone.

When he hears a knock on his door, he opens it in a rush; he sees the butler there and offers him a finger to signal to hold on. He rushes to his table, picking up the bouquet of flowers, an array of red, yellow, and orange orchids, dahlias, and marigolds.

"Can you take these down to suite 909?" Lewis pants pushing the boquet towards the man, there is a note nestled between the pedals.

The man tilts his head, pushing the flowers back towards Lewis.

"I am sorry, Sir Hamilton, Ms Russell has checked out already in the early hours of Midnight."

Lewis feels his heart crumble as he steps away from the man, the giant bouquet firm in his hold.

Lewis says nothing as he closes the door and walks away.

Clem had left that night, not long after leaving Lewis' room. After her shower, she was on the first flight home, and she hadn't spoken to Lewis since.

Lewis misses Clementine. It's a realization that he came to rather quickly but refused to admit.

Lewis pulls himself out of the leggy woman he picked up at the end of his race. She drops down beside him in heavy pants.

"That was fun." She exhales.

He doesn't know why when he turns his head, he expects to see Clem staring back at him with her dark eyes and cute smile.

This woman is no Clementine, and that's for sure.

He doesn't know why he tries it, but he does. "You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever; everything is unchanged, and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"

He watches as her eyes scrunch momentarily in confusion.

"I don't know. It's probably Paris. I'm obsessed with their lifestyle, honestly."

Lewis turns his head back to the ceiling.

He wants her to leave. And he wants Clementine to be in her place.

It's quiet and awkward, and she doesn't even try to ask him.

He already knows his answer. He'd be with Clem in his bed, hands connected as they lie naked underneath his covers, heads turned to each other as they talk. He'd watch on as the moonlight supersedes the darkness and the moonbeams are replaced with sun rays. And he'd listen to her feel things like she made him. And he'd be happy and content with spending eternity like that.

Everything unchanged, nothing new.

Lewis begins to think that maybe casual sex isn't for him anymore. Perhaps he's taking Clem's absence extra hard because he yearned for the other form of intimacy, the emotional aspect of being with a woman.

So he tries dating.

And he comes to the same conclusion, date after date.

Their eyes don't gleam like hers.

They don't understand his humor.

They don't care about why losing his favorite toy as a kid was an integral part of the man he became.

They can't carry on discussions like Clem or even talk like Clem.

They don't have her precious smile and her deep dimples. They're not gracious and benevolent.

They aren't Clem, no one ever will be.

Lewis craves Clem; he misses her with every fiber of his being.

And he regrets letting her up from his bed. He regrets telling her to pursue another man.

When Lewis returns to New York, his thumb lingers over the send button.

clemmy 🪂

I need to see you, where are you?

He doesn't send the message; he drops his phone with a sigh, knuckling at his eyes. Why was it so fucking hard? He'd never felt this troubled in his life, especially over a woman he'd never even dated.

He sighs in distress, picks up his phone, stares at the message begging to be sent, and clicks off of the app. Instead, he opens his Instagram. As he goes to search for Clem's name, he sees that she is still his top search, and he feels like a loser as he enters her profile.

He'd take any sight of her he could get.

Clementine wouldn't say she was necessarily religious. Her grandpa would probably drop dead of a heart attack if he heard that. But it was the truth. She thought it was fairytale-like sometimes. Yes, she had faith, but she wasn't as devout as many people.

If she was being honest, she thought religion began as something beautiful, putting your complete trust and faith into another person, with the idea that they were quite literally the holy grail. Over time, it's been skewed and manipulated, some for great purposes and others for very wrong reasons.

She thought most religious people were hypocrites. Lewis was a hypocrite for sure, giving her an inch and then taking a mile. Now that she has had time to ponder over it, Lewis Hamilton is actually a sick man. Pouring affection into her and poisoning her heart.

How did he expect her not to fall for him when he treated her the way he did? She feels like a fool herself, too, thinking back to the conversation she had with him the night before it all went to shit.

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis was a hypocrite, and she was too.

But the truth is religion gave people purpose. She'd never felt it firmly in a spiritual sense, but she had experienced that strong urge to follow someone's every command. She's believed every word that tumbles from his mouth. Given the opportunity, she would surely drop to her knees at his feet. She's only ever felt the need to praise and put her limited faith and her secured trust into one person. Sure, she had faith, just in a bad religion. She admired one man, Lewis Hamilton, but there was one problem, she could never make him love her the way she loved him.

Clem took his advice. She branched off, presented herself in new ways, made new friends, developed herself, and found someone who would take her seriously, though that didn't last long at all.

clementine

liked by feliciathegoat, pharrell, and 12,898,465 others

clementine so, they've helped me make an album? Clementine, NYC out now on all streaming platforms !!

view all comments

feliciathegoat Cool kids doing cool shit 🏌🏿

clementine the coolest 😎

lilyachty ALBUM OF THE FUCKING YEAR

clementine 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

user no bc who did my girl like that

clementine no really, it's okay though builds character 😃

user builds character my ass, go beat his ass

user A MOVIE AND MUSIC IN THE SAME YEAR ASVJHKHK WHEN DO WE GET SEASON 2???

clementine yk im filming girl 🙄

clementine

liked by danielricciardo, justinbieber, and 10,898,465 others

clementine two post in one day bc why not, what's everyone's favorite song from Clementine, NYC?!?

danielricciardo In your hands slaps

clementine you sir, have great taste 😘

user daniel what are you doing here 😭

user No really, weird ass crossover episode

user the blue hair to match the album cover the movie * chefs kiss*, your creativity is unmatched queen

clementine you noticing the small details >>>

justinbieber posting us arguing over the order is killing me

clementine no bc we both look so over it 😂

user I love her and Tyler's friendship sm

feliciathegoat i love my bestie

clementine and I love u T 🥹

Lewis instantly throws in his airpods and starts the album, one by one he listens to each song. Sure enough every song has small anecdotes about their time together that only he'd know.

He was aware that he was blurring the lines between just benefits and true feelings, but he didn't know that he wasn't the only one feeling strongly about it. He never took her feelings into account.

Just when he thought he couldn't feel any worse about the situation, that realization dawned on him. Clementine Russell loved him and he threw her to the curb like a bag of trash.

He's throwing on whatever clothes he sees first as he rushes from his door.

He doesn't bother calling his driver as he treks block after block; he has one destination in mind, Clem's townhome.

He's there before he knows it, his fist urgently banging against her door.

He sees a light flicker on through the window, and then her door swings open.

She's in her nightshirt with her hair wrapped in a scarf, and her eyes are puffy from sleep. When she sees Lewis, she begins to swing the door back closed, but his hand pushes against it.

"No, Lewis." She snarls, swinging the door open again. She is looking at him like he's the devil himself. "I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't even want to think of you."

"Clem, please." He begs, "Please, I can't take it."

She pauses at the door, taking her time to study the man in front of her. He looks bad, simply put.

His eyes are bloodshot and droopy with bags, his braids are disheveled and clearly in need of a touch-up, and he just looks all around miserable.

She almost gives in until she thinks back to the last eight months where she had been miserable herself. She smacks her teeth swinging the door closed until she hears Lewis shout out three words that take her back to when the roads got foggy, Cannes. When she realized the difference in how she actually felt for Lewis.

"I love you."

She peels the door back open and stares at him intensely. "What did you say?"

He looks like he's watched his whole world get taken away from him as he repeats himself, "I love you. Don't shut the door, please."

"It's not fair, Lewis." She fumes.

"I know." He whispers, and his voice cracks.

"You don't get to do this to me." Clem snapped. "You can't just make me feel things for you and then push me away. You can't make me love you and then hurt me and tell me you love me when it's too late."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry, isn't enough." She hissed angrily, approaching him and poking his chest.

He reaches up and grabs her hand, holding it close to his chest. She feels him shudder underneath her touch, and his body begins to shake.

"Clem, I'm sorry." his voice is hoarse and thick as he peers down at her, and she cracks when she feels a teardrop against their connected hands. "I'm sorry."

Her forehead drops against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her. "You didn't deserve that; I should have just told you; I was scared; you broke all of my walls, Clem; I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to hurt you in the end."

"But you did, " she cries.

"I know, I did; I was scared of commitment, was scared I would ruin us further down the line." He presses a kiss to the top of her head, "I'm not scared of commitment, Clem, not anymore. I just don't want to be committed if it's not to you."

"You don't mean that." Clem breathes.

"I promise I do, Clem."

She steps back from him, letting his arms fall to his side. "You made me feel dirty."

He opens his mouth, and she puts up her hand, "Let me talk. I let you disrespect me, Lewis. I should be done with you. I should be over you. I don't care how much I feel for you; if you ever, and I mean ever, speak to me that way or treat me like I'm nothing ever again, all gracefulness is out of the fucking window."

"I understand." He breathes, "I will never, Clem, and I mean never treat you like that again."

It's ironic, the two of them standing infront of each other as the sky illuminates in yellow and orange hues.

"It's six in the morning." Clem sighs.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"I wasn't supposed to be here today; you almost missed me," Clem informs.

"I would've found you. Lost you once already. I didn't know how much I cherished what we had until I no longer had it. Until I lost it. I don't want to lose you forever, too."

"It's almost spring," Clem announces.

"Gonna take you to that mountain, Clem." He promises, pulling her into his arms again.

"I've missed you so much. There were so many things I wanted to talk to you about. I missed talking to you." She admits and Lewis holds her tighter.

"I missed listening to you. Swear I did."

"Are we still friends?"

"No, we're more than that. We should’ve never been friends. Always meant to be more."

"I wrote an album about you." She sighs.

She feels Lewis hum against her. "It's beautiful."

"I talked so much shit about you, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry for feeling Clem, I was a shit person to you."

"My hair is blue." She announces, and he chuckles; there she was, his Clem talking his head off.

"Starting over, right?"

"Yeah, starting over."

Although they weren't laying in bed on their backs hands connected and staring through the ceiling like it was their sky. Things felt familiar to the two as the sun rose and light beamed around them.

Lewis was her sunset, the beauty that comes after a hard and blaring day. To him, she was the sunrise. After the darkness, it will always be light again. She was his light source, and he knew that now. He could never lose something that's always shining.

"Thank you for showing up for me."

Not proofread

the album:

bad religion - frank ocean

in your hands - halle

i think- tyler, the creator

saturn- sza

broken is the man- jorja smith

everything is gonna be alright- infinity song

everything- kehlani

mine- beyonce ft drake

poison- beyonce

are we still friends- tyler, the creator

eternal sunshine- jhene aiko

#black reader #lewis hamilton #f1 #formula 1 #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x black reader #poc reader #black female oc #lewis hamilton x black female oc #black reader friendly #things lost and things found part two

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cherrifire · 9 months ago

Note

Please share your thoughts on the other 5 cutie marks, I'd love to hear!

Hi everypony! I got like 20 asks for the Dogwarts cutie mark lore so I'm here to speak my truth!

Before we start, I would like to write a quick reminder that a pony's cutie mark is not always their "special talent", but can also represent who they are, their personalities, and a possible destiny. Different cutie marks have different meanings and interpretations, but they're not just about representing what you're good at.

That being said, let's start with the cutie mark design I'm proudest of!

Ren's Cutie Mark

Ren's cutie mark is of a sunrise and looks pretty simple at first glance but there was a lot of thought that went into this one.

First of all, I bet you're wondering why a sunrise? Well, in the show, it is pretty typical for unicorns with great magical abilities to have one relating to space (examples being Twilight Sparkle, Sunset Shimmer, Starlight Glimmer, and Sunburst). And I figured since I wanted Ren to fall into a similar position of potentially becoming an alicorn, I gave him a cutie mark following the same trend. And I chose a sunrise to reflect the way Ren seems to glow when he enters a room. The way he carries himself is very warm and bright it just catches your eye in a similar way the sun would.

Also, Ren wears sunglasses. So a sun-themed cutie mark seemed appropriate.

Additionally, there are a couple of smaller details I want to point out too. Like the sun rays, if you look at them for a moment you'll see they're shaped like little crowns! I of course had to put a crown in thanks to how much Ren likes to play royalty, so I snuck it in there. And then the red spots underneath could both be interpreted as the sun reflected over water or blood. (But of course, this is a kid show AU so there wouldn't be any blood in Ren's destiny, just a fun reference to the red king and his whole thing about blood dyeing the snow red)

Martyn's Cutie Mark

I explained this one in an earlier ask but I thought I'd explain it again here for anyone who didn't see it!

Martyn's cutie mark is of a chopped log and a small stick.

This one is mostly a play on the name "Littlewood" but has other meanings too. As a character, Martyn tends to travel and explore quite a bit. In the Life Series specifically, he is usually the last one to find a permanent base and even then doesn't spend a lot of time in one place. Always on the move. Additionally, he's more of a wild card compared to other characters, always trying to be as unpredictable as possible.

The smaller detail here is the little swirl on top of the log is the same as the one on his Minecraft skin's shirt.

BigB's Cutie Mark

Cookies! Cookies! Cookies! BigB's cutie mark is of 3 cookies where one is trying to eat the others. There are also a few sprinkles there made to look like action lines.

We all know BigB loves cookies so of course I had to give him a cutie mark with cookies in it. For this one, I decided to follow the cutie mark trend of "symbol/item important to the pony duplicated 3 times" (examples being Fluttershy, Applejack, Rarity, Pinkie Pie) but I added a bit more creativity to it with the top on trying to eat the others to represent just how tasty they are 😋

Additionally, rather than the first cookie trying to eat the others, you could interpret it as opening its mouth to talk. Because BigB can not keep a secret to save his life! In Double Life when he started "secret soulmates" with Grian, he didn't last a day without opening his mouth. He told Ren about it immediately because he felt bad for keeping things from him.

Also worth quickly mentioning: People pointed out in my original post that they don't think BigB would be the element of honesty because of his behaviour in Secret Life. But that's just Secret Life. I think Secret Life to BigB was like that episode of My Little Pony where Discord makes the main 6 act the opposite of their true element. BigB was just going through a weird phase of telling very obvious lies because a book told him to.

Skizz's Cutie Mark

Skizz's cutie mark is of a lightning bolt from a couple storm clouds hitting the ground.

I think this is the cutie mark with the least thought put into it, unfortunately. There was still though just not as much as the others. The big thing I thought was fun was I made the lightning bolt shaped like an "S" to stand for Skizzleman. But other than that, this cutie mark sort of has the same meaning as Rainbow Dash's cutie mark. Quick like lightning, loud, bold, dangerous, and powerful.

Impulse's Cutie Mark

Impulse's cutie mark is of a lit-up lightbulb.

I absolutely crowded this cutie mark with the letter i. If you look closely, there are 6 of them. Impulse's design also has an i-shaped pattern on the belly if you look closely enough. But that's more of a fun easter egg and doesn't exactly reflect Impulse as a character.

There are a couple of reasons I chose a lightbulb for Impulse, the first and probably most obvious is that he's a redstone guy! He's a technical guy who likes to work smarter, not harder. So I figured the My Little Pony equivalent would be a light bulb/electricity. The second reason for the lightbulb is that it's usually used as a visual representation when characters have that "eureka!" moment in cartoons. When someone has a brilliant idea a little lightbulb turns on above their head. So since Impulse is the ideas guy, I figured a lightbulb would work for his cutie mark.

Etho's Cutie Mark

Etho's cutie mark is of a snowflake with a missing branch.

I promise there is more to this cutie mark than just "Canada is cold" even if that's part of the reason I wanted to give him a winter-themed cutie mark. While it is fun to make a nod to Etho being Canadian, I thought a winter-themed cutie mark would be fun to represent how he sometimes presents himself. Cold and a bit mysterious. I think deep down once you get to know him, those attributes melt away, but for people who have never met him, he may be intimidating that way.

I'll be honest, I don't watch a lot of Etho content, but I do have a few friends who identify as Etho girlies so I did my research. I was told in his Minecraft Let's Play World, that he has a snowflake build somewhere. I believe they said it was an iron golem farm? (Please correct me if I'm wrong) but I thought that was perfect for the cutie mark. And if you're wondering why there's a branch missing, it's because one of my friends said he was incapable of finishing builds sometimes so I thought that would be fun to include.

-=+=-

Alright. Rant over. To celebrate, here are a few pony doodles so I can put this post in my art tag.

#cherri.speaks #cherri.draws #trafficblr #my little pony au #renthedog #inthelittlewood #bigbst4tz2 #skizzleman #impulsesv #ethoslab #Third Life x MLP #mclp

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filled-with-fat · 14 days ago

Text

My weight skyrocketed at College 🫢

When I moved away to college at 18, I was an athletic, healthy young man. In high school, I had played on the football team, and had always been into working out and staying fit. But this all changed when I moved away to college.

I was allocated self-catered accommodation, which meant for the first time in my life I had to cook my own meals. At home, my mum would always make me healthy, nutritious foods. But I definitely underestimated how time consuming it is to cook. As the weeks progressed, I got fed up with having to make myself my own meals, and so I would order food. I fell into really bad habits; staying out till sunrise, and then ordering takeout throughout the day. I stopped attending my classes, as I just couldn’t be bothered to walk across campus. Instead I would lay in bed, scrolling through TikTok, awaiting my next McDonald’s delivery. I would order at least 4 takeouts a day.

I quickly became hooked to this lifestyle. Binge drinking on the weekends, and bed rotting during the week, gorging on unhealthy fast food. And with every week that passed, I began to notice my body enlarge. My belly grew outwards, stretch marks appeared across my mid-section, and cheeky layers of fat hung off my sides and back. My hips widened, whilst my thighs and butt started to look revoltingly big.

I had turned into a chubby freshman, and I desperately needed an intervention from my friends to help me loose weight. I asked my college roommate, Daniel, who frequently went to the gym, if I could come with him. But, rather than encouraging me to get more active, Daniel convinced me into thinking laying in bed all day eating pizza was better for my wellbeing/overall happiness. I was easily persuaded into believing that my current eating habits were healthy. And so I continued to order excessive amounts of takeout, and sometimes Daniel would even bring me McDonald’s back from his workout. We would sit on my bed together, and I would devour a BigMac in under 5 minutes.

I rapidly outsized all my clothes, to which Daniel bought me a new sets of T-shirts and pants (in size 4xl of course).

As I grew bigger, I became more self-conscious of my weight and how I appeared in public. I was always a shy guy, and never liked attention. Yet, as I got fatter, my size drew attention, as I would struggle to walk even a few steps, or get out of breath from climbing a flight of stairs. I began to dread leaving my dorm, as I knew I would have to deal with the stares and sneers from everyone on campus. Whereas in my room, I felt like royalty. Daniel would praise my body, he would say how beautiful my curves and rolls of fat were. As I grew bigger, he showed more and more interest in me. He couldn’t keep his hands off me, saying just how much he adored my obese body. And so, I kept eating, as I craved Daniel’s attention and attraction.

By the end of freshman, I had ballooned to over 450lbs. I got so big, that even sitting up, or rolling over in bed, had me wheezing. But I was so attached to this lifestyle, there was no braking free. I kept on gaining weight, with every mouthful of greasy, calorific food I consumed. All to please Daniel. And the bigger I got, the more time he spent with me. He loved feeling my body, placing his lubricated hands over my enormous chest, squeezing my love handles and fat hips. I craved his attention, and so naturally I felt compelled to eat, eat and eat even more.

#fat #fat as fuck #fat piggy #fat moobs #fat arms #gay fatty #fatboy #immobile feedee #fatty #big fatty #obese male #too fat #college fatty #male gaining #guys gaining weight #gaining weight on purpose

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kleine-joost · 3 months ago

Text

Beautiful

Joost Klein x Reader

a/n: just some cute lil fluff, i promise a longer fic is in the works <33

It was early, far too early. The sunrise had painted the sky a warm, fiery orange and its rays just managed to creep through your curtains. Joost was still asleep beside you, one arm over your waist and letting out the gentlest snore with his deep breaths.

You couldn’t help but watch him for a while. When he was awake, he was always so worried about everything, always aware of everyone around him, but like this he was fully at peace.

Joost woke about 20 minutes after you. You didn’t notice at first because you were scrolling away on your phone, only clocking him when he stretched and let out a long groan.

“Morning,” you whispered.

“Morning,” he groaned back. “What time is it?”

“Too early.”

He stretched out an arm and nodded at you, a way of saying ‘come here’. You locked your phone and dropped it on your nightstand, before wriggling your way into his side.

The room was silent as you both laid in the warmth of the sun rays reaching further and further over your bed.

Joost could just see out onto the street from the angle of the bedroom window. He watched people sluggishly make their way to their early shifts, and the graveyard shifters coming home. It was probably cold outside, everyone had on a coat and hunched their bodies to try to keep as much warmth as possible. It was funny how it all felt so far away when he was with you. Then he caught your eye.

The golden light warmed up his face. You could see the tiniest bit of redness on his nose from the cold air, and the tiny–barely there–freckles he’d collected each summer like a souvenir. His eyelashes were so long, even if they were almost invisible if you weren’t searching for them. And, of course, those deep pools of ocean blue…That caught you looking.

“A picture’ll last longer,” he grinned.

You could feel heat reaching your cheeks as you giggled. “You’re just so beautiful, that’s all.”

Now it was his turn to giggle. A bright laugh that you would never get tired of hearing. You saw a slight pink tint wash over his cheeks as he tried to roll over to hide his face in his pillow.

His sudden shyness only spurred you on more. As he mumbled some kind of protest, you grabbed the sides of his face, gently turning his head back to face you. You were looking him dead in the eyes.

“I’m serious. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so beautiful before-” Like an impulse, you lightly kissed the end of his nose. “All of you.”

He didn’t speak, he was smiling the kind of smile where your lips stretch and your cheeks hurt, he couldn’t stop it. Not even for the rest of the day. As you both got out of bed and dressed, eating breakfast, seeing you off to work, he carried it with him.

#joost klein #joost #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost fanfic

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revasserium · 2 months ago

Text

you

hayato suo; 5,844 words; fluff and angst, semi!dark content, obsessive behavior, stalking, emotional manipulation, stalker!suo,big brother!togame

summary: fool me once, shame on me. fool me twice, shame on you.

a/n: this was written for both @pixelcafe-network's challenge friday prompt (i got the song 'shinunoga e-wa' which... well.) as well as @peachsukii's wonderful horror event! pls proceed with caution!

It is not a healthy obsession.

But obsessions rarely are.

The first time he sees you is through the hazy mist of a Monday morning, walking to school with Sakura and Nirei trailing behind him, bickering about a possible pop quiz in Japanese Literature that afternoon. Suo grins, his fingers laced behind his back as he nods along. He’ll do fine even if there is a pop-quiz. He knows, he knows —

And then, there you are, caught in the glimmer of sunrise, your cheeks brushed pink by rosy-fingered dawn — standing across the street, a tinkling conglomeration of phone charms dangling from your wrist. You’re turned to one side, laughing with someone he can’t quite see — and in that moment, Suo Hayato learns the meaning of the word jealousy.

He thought he had known it before but he knew then that every emotion he’d felt prior to this has been a mere shadow, a weak and straggling imitation of the real thing — curiosity, jealousy, fear, want —

“Suo-san?” Nirei’s voice is an unwanted interruption to his intense study of you, but he has a reputation to upkeep, so he turns and grins.

“Hm?”

“What’re you lookin’ at?” Sakura supplies over Nirei’s hitched hesitation.

Suo turns back towards where you were standing just a second ago, but you’re not there anymore. For a stomach-wrenching moment, he thinks he’s lost you, and he scans the street desperately for the shape of you until — ah — there.

“Who is that?” Suo asks, taking care to keep his voice casual, leaning over to bump Nirei with his shoulder. Nirei goes red at the contact before whipping out his little black booklet and flipping through the pages, clearing his throat.

“She just moved here!” Nirei supplies after announcing your name, “seems like she’s good friends with Togame from —”

“Shishitoren,” Suo finishes, his voice falling flat. His eyes catch on the sweep of your skirt as you casually loop your arm through Togame’s, leaning into his body as he ruffles your hair. Suo wonders, briefly, if he’d have been able to beat Togame had they been paired together in the faceoff and for a second, he resents Sakura for being the one chosen to fight him.

That night, he dreams of the softness of your touch, the tenderness of your palms, warm against his, and the intoxicating sweep of your eyelashes. He dreams of the milky skin of your thighs, of the candy-cane sweetness of your breath when you lean in to whisper something in his ear.

He wakes up sated and tempered, and he resolves to find out everything about you.

And it’s not difficult, not with a friend like Nirei.

You’re a childhood friend of Togame’s, a recent addition to the Shishitoren roster, though you’re not a fighter yourself. You remind him of Kotoha and he can already imagine you quipping back at his good-natured banter, how you’d flick your bangs from across your eyes.

He wanders across the borders on purpose, just to see you, but he’s good enough to stay out of sight. Though, even if he were found out, things between Boufuurin and Shishitoren are good now, aren’t they? There’s no reason he shouldn’t act as liaison, and build some new bridges between the two, is there?

“You were so serious for a while, Jou,” he overhears you say, hidden behind a hedge at a nearby park, his back pressed to the large tree under which you and Togame are, the pair of you on the park bench just beneath it’s shade.

“Was I? Yeah… guess I was. Went through a bad patch there,” Togame’s voice is deep, churning Suo’s stomach till it goes sour. Suo wonders if you like guys like this — all whisky and smoke and lazy Sundays. Somehow, he thinks you’d be more into guys like him —

Guys who would hold your hand like it’s the only thing they were put on this earth to do right. Guys who might kiss you and keep kissing you till he’s sure it’s perfect. He feels a gut-deep hatred of Togame, of the careless way he slings his arm around your shoulders, or the way he reaches out to ruffle your hair, mussing up your bangs.

Suo closes his eyes and leans back against the thick tree trunk and to anyone else, it might’ve looked like napping, or an afternoon meditation session. But in the theatre of Suo’s mind, he can see the way he would comb his fingers through your hair, how he’d treasure each silken tress, how he might press his nose into the crown of your head and breathe in deep — he can almost smell the citrus and coconut scent of your shampoo — he’d seen it when he paused by your house earlier that week.

It had been such an easy thing, and you’re so, so trusting. Leaving your front door unlocked, hurrying out because you were late for an afterschool cram session. Suo had followed you all the way from underneath the train tracks, telling himself that he was only watching out for you, like any good gentleman might do. He couldn’t exactly count on the ruffians from Shishitoren to look out for you — not like he would.

He’d slipped into your small house, easy as pushing through the door. And immediately, he’s caught by the scent of you — the slightly musty smell of wood and tatami mats, the floral, milky scent of your body cream, the damp trail that undoubtedly leads into your bathroom, where you’d just taken a shower (he’s sure; your hair was still wet when you ran out the door). He’d wandered through your house as if walking through a dream, lingering over the plastic wrappers in your garbage, from convenience store sandwiches. He frowns — a girl like you should have a more balanced diet, and he makes a mental note to change that.

He’d gone from room to room, pausing over this and that, tracing his fingers over the corners of your cabinets, the thin wooden railing along the steep flight of stairs leading to the second floor. He’d paused by your bedroom just to take it in — the girlishness of it, the pink bedsheets, patterned with tiny flowers, the stuffed animals toppled one over the other, the indent where you’d probably sat as you dried your hair. It’s not as neat as his own room, but there’s an orderliness that pleases him. He smiles as he notices a pair of discarded sleep shorts, crumpled by the bed; he toys with the idea of picking it up before thinking better of it.

Not now — not yet.

He takes careful stock of your medicine cabinet in your bathroom, memorizes the shampoo and conditioner bottles. He uncaps your favorite bottle of perfume (the one that’s almost finished) and breathes in deep, his senses sizzling within him as he feels his body prickling with heat, a swirling desire crystalizing at the base of his stomach.

Carefully, he unscrews the top and dabs a drop on each of his wrists before capping the bottle and placing it back exactly as it was.

And now, sitting here, listening to you and Togame talk, he feels a deep sense of satisfaction as he pulls a fresh bottle of the perfume from his pocket, turning the little bottle over and over in his palm. He’d found it easily enough, it’s a well-known brand, and not overly expensive.

“Oh — thanks for the fruits, by the way,” you say, “it had all my favorites!”

“Ah… fruits?” Togame asks.

“Mm — the basket that was sitting outside my door… wasn’t it from you? Or maybe Chouji… but anyways, it was nice! I had almost finished the lychee in one sitting — had to stop myself before it gave me a stomach ache.”

You laugh and Suo basks in the sound.

Togame chuckles, though there’s a distinct note of uncertainty that makes Suo’s lips twist.

“You used to eat them until you gave yourself nosebleeds,” he says, and there’s the distinct sounds of a tussle. You yelp, the sound dovetailing into a laugh as the smile slips off Suo’s face. His eyes snap open — he can almost see it, how Togame might reach over to pinch at your cheeks, how you might duck or swat him away.

Suo himself would never be so unruly.

“I gotta get to the bookstore — I’m covering for Momo’s shift today.”

He hears you getting to your feet, Togame following suit. Togame offers to walk you but you decline. And then you separate, each going your own ways. Suo waits till he’s sure you’re both gone before slowly getting to his feet, tucking the bottle of perfume back into his pocket.

The bookshop is a quaint little thing, tucked into a row of storefronts, all family owned and run. He takes a deep breath before ducking in, hitching a pleasant smile onto his face.

“Welcome!” your voice is bright as silver bells, “can I help you find anything today?”

Suo makes a show of looking around, eyes scanning the rows and rows of books, and then the manga section in the back. He points.

“Actually, yes — there’s a manga series that I love and I’m waiting for the next installment.”

You grin, “Sure! What’s the name? We don’t carry a huge stock, but I can definitely check for you!”

Suo delights in the blush that seeps into your cheeks as he mentions the name of your favorite shoujou manga (he’d seen the volumes at your house, the latest volume left open on your bed).

“O-oh! You like that one too?” you ask, your eyes scanning his face, as if this all might be a joke.

“Yeah!” Suo answers, linking his hands behind his back as you round the front table and lead him towards the manga section, “I think the art is nice but mostly, I like the slow development of romance between the two main characters — even though you know from the beginning they’re meant for each other.”

He’d done his homework; it’d taken a few days for him to read through the entire series, but he’d done it. For you, he would’ve done that and more.

You turn towards him, eyes wide and bright and excited.

“Yes! That’s so true! Here — this is the newest one, just came out three days ago —”

Suo takes it, letting his fingers skim by yours, reveling in the way your skin feels against his. Of course, he’s already read the latest volume, but he clutches it to his chest anyway and follows you to the front, content to listen to you chatter about the series and the reasons you love it.

“— just… I know it’s a shoujou series, and the main guy is meant to be lovable but — it’s just so realistic! Like he’s not perfect, but he just wants to do his best to protect the girl, y’know? And it’s so cute —”

Suo nods, reaching into his pocket for some cash.

You flap him away, “You can have that one! Think of it as a bribe — to keep you coming back for the next one,” you say, twin patches of darkness riding high in your cheeks.

Suo schools his expression into a bashful grin, “Are you sure? I can pay — I mean, I’d never turn down a gift from a pretty girl but —”

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, fiddling with your fingers, “I’m sure! Just… promise you’ll come back when you finish it so we can talk about it, okay?”

Suo nods, curling his fingers into the cover of the book, his heartbeat in his throat.

“Alright then. It’s a date.”

That night, he places the manga volume and the bottle of perfume next to each other on his shelf, leaning back to admire his handiwork. He brings his wrist up to his nose, taking a long breath — it’s not the same, the perfume against his skin as it would be against yours, but it’s enough for now — enough to pretend.

It does not take long after that, not with his frequent visits to the bookshop (he’s long since memorized your work schedule) and the growing friendship between Shishitoren and Boufuurin — it’s almost easy. Too easy.

And you are so perfect, so naive — so easy to manipulate that Suo almost feels bad — almost. When he leans in to kiss you for the first time, the pair of you tucked in the far stacks of the bookstore, him under the guise of helping you reach the upper shelves, he nearly loses himself in the way you gasp against his lips, your fingers curling into the front of his uniform.

He feels the reckless hunger that has been threatening to tear him apart every night since he first saw you that morning across the street coiling up the back of his throat as he curls his fingers into your hair and presses you to him.

When he forces himself to pull away, he’s pleased to find your eyes glassy, your lips dark and kiss-bruised, slick with spit and parted. You’re panting, your chest heaving with the sheer force of the kiss.

Suo leans down to press his forehead to yours.

“Finish your shift… I don’t want to distract you from your work.”

You nearly whine as you bury your face in his chest.

“What if — what if I want you to distract me?”

It’s a horribly cliche thing to say — in fact, Suo is certain that it’s a line lifted straight from your shoujou manga. He swallows down a groan at the thought of pushing you into the back closet and having his way with you then and there but — he reels in his mind and takes a breath, shaking his head.

“Finish your shift first,” he says, playing the part of the ever-considerate boyfriend, “then… I’ve got a present for you.”

He tugs away to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger, before pulling away completely and bending down to pick up a stack of books that still need to be shelved.

You heave a long sigh, but don’t complain as you follow after him, trying your best to hide a smile that nevertheless pulls at your cheeks.

Outside the bookshop, Suo presents you with the bottle of perfume.

“I know it’s not very expensive but… for some reason, the scent made me think of you,” Suo says, his voice the perfect timber between hopeful and hesitant. You gasp, looking down at the label.

“Hayato! This is my favorite perfume! How… how did you know?”

Suo shrugs, smiling that enigmatic smile of his, “I didn’t — I just… I saw it at the store and thought of you,” he lets the heat flush into his cheeks, pursing his lips in a perfect imitation of bashfulness.

You throw your arms around him and press your lips to his cheek.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! And I was so close to finishing my own bottle too! Ugh — this is just too perfect!” you sink back to your feet, your arms still looped around his neck.

Suo lets his hands settle around your waist, laughing as you smile up at him. And then — you’re tugging him down by the collar of his uniform, your lips finding his, and all coherent thought leaves him again.

It isn’t till someone coughs that the pair of you pull apart.

“Ah… if it isn’t Suo-san,” Togame’s voice is at once amused and slightly suspicious. Suo peers over your head and shoots him an unassuming grin.

“Togame-san — it’s been a while.”

“Jou… I didn’t know you were coming over today,” you say, ducking your head as you surreptitiously wipe at your lips with the back of your hand.

“I wasn’t, but I found myself in the area so I thought I’d drop by,” Togame’s eyes flicker between you and Suo before settling on you. There’s a curious tick to his eyebrows as you refuse to meet his gaze.

You chew on your bottom lip for a good second before saying, “So… you guys have met before, right?”

Suo nods, “Yep! It was quite a meeting, but I think we all came out of it pretty okay.”

Togame lets out a low chuckle, “Sure. You could say that. How’s Sakura doing?”

Suo shrugs, “He’s fine — but there’s not much that’ll get him down. I heard Tomiyama-san’s doing much better now too.”

Togame bobs his head, tucking his hands into his pockets, “Yeah, he is. Uh listen… I didn’t mean to intrude or anything — just wanted to check in on my uh — friend here —” he jerks his head in your direction, smirking as you blush, looking anywhere but at his face.

“I’m fine Jou — I don’t need you to babysit me.”

“Dunno, you still act plenty like a baby sometimes.”

You pout, eyes flashing as you turn to glare at him. There’s an easy tease in the lilt of Togame’s voice that sets Suo’s teeth on edge. He doesn’t like how close you and Togame are — never have — but he supposes there’s nothing he can do about it. Not right now, at least.

“Okay well we were just leaving —” you say, tugging on Suo’s sleeve.

“Yeah? Where to?” Togame asks, casual as anything, sauntering over to keep pace with the pair of you as you start down the street.

“Uhm…” you start, clearly not having thought this through, but Suo swoops in gallantly, reaching down to lace your fingers through his in a smooth, familiar motion.

“We were going to her place — to watch a movie.”

“Yeah?” Togame peers at you from over the rims of his tinted shades.

“Yeah!” you answer, perking up as you give Suo’s hand a grateful squeeze, “there’s one we’ve been meaning to watch —”

“The Talented Mr. Ripley,” Suo supplies, easy as anything.

You blink up at him, startled, but he only grins. A moment later, you blush, eyes flickering back towards Togame.

“Y-yeah — that one —”

Togame’s gaze ping-pongs between you and Suo, his brows ticking up ever so slightly.

“Yeah… I’ve seen that one — about a guy who pretends to be someone he’s not, right?”

You frown, but Suo squeezes your hand.

“Yep, that’s the one. It’s got a great roster of A-list actors, and the cinematography is really good.”

Togame nods, his eyes settling on you. You lick your lips, nodding along with Suo, flashing Togame a smile that he doesn’t return.

He walks all the way to the end of the street with the pair of you before pausing, cocking his head to watch you turn down the right with Suo at your side. You glance over your shoulder and catch his eyes; there’s a strange glimmer in them that you can’t name but it roils your stomach and makes your heart sputter like a blown out candle in your chest.

You don’t end up watching a movie at yours, but you do laze against Suo’s chest, his fingers threading through your hair as you flip through your favorite volume of your shoujou manga. Suo shifts, his nose pressing into your hair.

“I’ve always loved the scent of your shampoo — you’re almost out though, right?”

You nod absently, “Yeah, I need to buy more…”

You flip another page, and then another. In the intricately drawn manga panels, the protagonist blushes as the male lead traces his fingers along her jawline, tipping her head back for a kiss.

Suo trails deft fingers along your jaw, twisting you around. The manga falls face-down on the worn tatami mat as he covers your lips with his. There’s always been a ferocity to his kisses, but while at the bookshop, he tried to keep his decorum. Here, however, he makes no attempt to mask his hunger, his urgency as he digs his fingers into the skin of your cheek, holding you so tightly you nearly gasp at the sting.

You’re breathless when you pull back, and so is he, his eyes unfocused, his fingers curling into your hair till you wince.

“H-Hayato?” you ask, pressing a palm to his chest.

“Hm?” his single eye flickers wildly over your face, as if desperate to capture the image of you, as if might never be enough just to see you, but to carve you into his memory —

“How… how did you know about my shampoo?” you ask, tilting your head, a tiny frown creasing your forehead.

“What… what do you mean?” he asks, tugging you back down to graze his lips along yours, his words soft and distracted. You groan as he kisses you again, hoisting you up till you’re sitting over his lap, your thighs straddling his.

But you pull back, shaking your head, laughing as he chases you.

“No — I was just — I don’t think I’ve ever told you about my shampoo running low.”

Suo’s frown mirrors your own, his expression one of perfect, innocent confusion.

“Hadn’t you? Maybe I saw it the last time I was in the bathroom.”

You purse your lips, but decide not to think too hard on it. You’d probably mentioned it to him in passing — you’d spent so much time together in the past few weeks. It’s not an impossible thing.

He does so love to listen to you talk, about anything, about everything.

It isn’t till he leaves much later that night that you flick on the light in your bathroom and pull back your shower curtains.

There sit your shampoo and conditioner bottles, lined up along the wall just as they’ve always been. And, just as you remember — the bottles are definitely not see-through.

Little things start to go missing after that — your favorite hair tie, one of your well-used pencils, a single earring, a pair of sleep shorts. Though when you complain to Suo that you seem to be losing more things than usual lately, all he’d done was grin and take you to the shopping center, promising to buy whatever it is that you’d lost.

He helps you pick a new hair tie, a new set of pencils, new earrings that sparkle just as well as the first pair. You blush as he leads you towards the loungewear section, but he presses a reassuring kiss to your temple and tells you that he likes shopping with you — for you.

He whispers against the shell of your ear that he likes the thought of you in things he’s picked out for you.

You shiver at his words, all thoughts about your lost items forgotten.

Togame, though, does not seem to share your optimism about the relationship.

“Dunno — I thought he was alright when I first met him but — even then…” he trails off, casting his eyes up at the light-specked canopy of the large tree you’re both sitting under. You’d wanted to do a picnic before the weather gets too cold for one, and he’d begrudgingly agreed.

You reflect, vaguely, that you’d been seeing less and less of him these days too.

“You’re just mad that I’m spending more time with someone from Boufuurin,” you say with a determined, teasing smile. Togame fixes you with a look over his customary shades, holding your gaze till you flush and look away.

“Yeah. Sure. Maybe.”

You huff, folding your arms, “He’s not that bad! He’s actually really nice to me!”

Togame chuckles, “I believe it, it’s just… nice isn’t exactly the same as good.”

You scowl at him, “What does that even mean?” but something crystalizes in the back of your mind, hardening into a dark speck of suspicion.

You try not to think about it, try not to let it invade your thoughts — but sometimes, when you’re at the bookshop, or even when you’re home alone at night, you’d feel it — the sense that something isn’t right, that someone might be watching you.

But every time you’d turn around, you’d find yourself alone — the bookshop empty, the house quiet, except for the ancient creak of wood and the shuffle of tiny little critters beneath the floorboards.

“Why do we never go to your place?” you ask one day, over steaming bowls of noodles, the wind outside howling something fierce. Suo looks up, blinking.

He swallows his mouthful of ramen and wipes his mouth with pristine, practiced motions.

“Ah — it’s honestly a little embarrassing but… my place is a bit uh —” he shrugs, “a bit messy.”

You frown, “But… you told me that you hated mess. And there was that one time you offered to help me organize the books at the bookstore alphabetically because you said that’s how you organized them at home… right?”

Suo stares, something very much like annoyance flickering behind his eye. But a second later, he lets out a bright laugh.

“No, you’re right! It’s just — it’s not very clean right now — but if you want to see my place, you’re more welcome to see it.”

You nod, trying to convince yourself that you’d been worried for nothing.

“Yeah, I’d love to see it! And you don’t have to clean stuff up for me — I won’t judge you, I promise!” you grin, and lower your eyes back to your own bowl of ramen.

“Sure, you can come over tomorrow if you’d like,” Suo says, watching you slurp at your noodles with an indulgent grin.

You nod, flushing as you almost choke on your mouthful of noodles in your eagerness.

“Y-yeah! I’d love to! We can — we can watch that movie you were talking about.”

“Hm? Which movie?”

“Oh — that one you mentioned to Jou that one time —”

Again, that flicker of something like annoyance, sharp as a knife’s edge, and gone just as quick.

Suo’s smile is impeccable as he calls for the check, “Oh yes — it’s a great movie, one of my favorites. And I think you’ll like it too.”

“Yeah, I’m sure I will! Our tastes are so similar,” you say, grinning as the waiter brings over the check and Suo sets a stack of immaculately folded bills on the table.

“You don’t always have to pay for things, you know,” you say as he laces your hands, the pair of you ducking out into the mid-autumn chill. He reaches out to pull on your collar, adjusting your muffler, tracing the line of your cheek with an affectionate finger.

The muffler, he’d given to you as a gift only two weeks prior, saying that he’d seen it at a sale. It’s your favorite color — but just last week, you’re sure you’d passed by a storefront with the exact same muffler, touting the season’s latest fashions, with a price tag that had made your stomach drop clear out of your body.

You’d convinced yourself that there’s no way he’d spent that kind of money on a gift for you. You’re both still in school — where would he have gotten the cash? Briefly, you consider that he might’ve stolen it.

But you quickly discard that line of thought as well, berating yourself internally for doubting your own boyfriend like this.

“I know,” Suo says, grinning as he leans down for a kiss, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.” And he sounds so earnest, so utterly besotted that you don’t have the heart to doubt anything else.

“You’re too good to me,” you say, shy as the pair of you start on the now familiar walk back to your tiny, two story apartment.

“Banish the notion,” Suo declares, his voice gallant, and you laugh. But he tugs you close to wrap an arm around your middle and press chilly lips to your cold-kissed cheek, “there’s no such thing.”

You flush with a delighted warmth and lean into the comfort of his embrace.

The next day, Suo brings you to his place, just as he’s promised. And just as you’d expected, it’s impeccable to the point of derision. You bite your lips, looking around at the immaculate walls and floors, the perfectly lined shelves, the cupboards stocked and stacked as if by a rather neurotic military sergeant.

“So… I’m guessing you cleaned?” you ask, setting down your bag by the door and toeing off your shoes.

Suo laughs, nodding, “Just a bit, yes.”

“A bit?”

He grins, leading you into the living room, where a tea service is set up and water is already boiling in the kitchen.

“How… what —” you’re at a loss for words as Suo kneels by the low table and washes the tea with the boiling water.

“Can you blame me? It’s my girlfriend’s first visit to my place — I had to make it perfect.”

By the time he puts on the movie, you’re already heavy with an amazing dinner and sleepy with hot tea. You lean against him, drowsing as the movie picks up and a gorgeous, dirty-blond man chats up an equally gorgeous platinum blond woman.

“Mm… which one’s the bathroom?” you ask, your voice sleepy as you totter to your feet.

“Just down the hall — second door to your right,” Suo calls.

You nod as you patter down the dark hallway, keeping one hand on the wall to steady yourself. At the first door, you twist the knob out of reflex, only to find it locked.

Frowning, you twist it again, feeling the old lock jiggling in the door frame.

Suddenly, all hints of drowisness gone, you go still, a strange, vibrating giddiness welling up inside you at the thought of seeing Suo’s bedroom.

Why would he keep it locked? What embarrassing things might you find?

You twist the doorknob slowly, putting pressure on the bottom of the knob till you feel the lock give and the door swings open into a dark, nebulous space. And with one last glance over your shoulder, you slip inside.

The bedroom is small, and neat to the point of sparseness. There’s a writing desk sitting beneath a small window, and a small bookcase tucked against the opposite wall, next to a chest of drawers.

There are no posters on the wall, but there does seem to be a map of some sort. And at first, you think it’s one of those artistic print-maps of Tokyo or some bigger city, but as your eyes adjust to the dimness, you notice tiny little flag markers, and streets that are all too familiar.

You creep closer, as if drawn by an invisible string, until you’re almost nose to nose with the map — and seeing it clearly now, your breath deadens inside your chest.

You know these streets because they’re the streets of this city — of your city, and Suo’s as well. But it’s the thin lines that connect a series of tiny flags that makes your chest go cold — spot markers of your house, your cram school, the bookstore you work at, your favorite shops and restaurants, even the park that you and Togame always go to on weekends.

And the thin lines between them — the routes you take, day in and day out, all meticulously mapped.

Dizzy, you spin around, your eyes catching on the bookshelf, where a series of little trinkets sit in succession —

An empty perfume bottle, a volume of shoujou manga, a hair tie, a pencil stub, and a single glimmering earring.

Blood thunders behind your ears as you brace yourself against the writing desk, the wood creaking slightly beneath your palms.

Your eyes catch next on the chest of drawers, and a single article of clothing crumpled, sitting at the very top — a pair of sleep shorts, thin and worn and trimmed in lace.

Yours.

“I thought you needed to use the restroom.”

You jump at the sound of Suo’s voice, soft and calm and unnaturally steady.

You press a hand to your mouth to stifle what would’ve been a scream as Suo steps into the room and closes the door with a snap behind him.

“You know… it’s not very good manners to go into someone’s bedroom without their permission.”

You lick your lips, shaking your head.

“Hayato… what —” but you can’t the words — because there are no words. Instead, you gesture at the strange collection of baubles on his shelves before turning back to motion at the giant map tacked to the wall.

Suo nods, his hands laced behind his back, his expression amiable.

“What… is all this?” he asks, taking a few steps towards you. You scramble back, but find yourself already cornered against his writing desk. He makes no sudden movements, even as you look wildly around for any kind of escape route, your heart battering against your ribs, a scream building just beneath your lungs.

“It’s… a testament, I suppose,” he says, opening his arms, sighing, “to my feelings for you —” he takes a few more steps, closing the distance between you and him in a single, shuddering heartbeat.

His eye glitters almost red in the iridescent darkness.

“Because… don’t you see?” he asks, his voice now nothing more than a whisper as he reaches out to cup your cheek. You go still beneath his touch, as a deer caught beneath the bright beam of a hunter’s light.

“It’s always been you…” he says, crooning the words into your ears as he trails his fingers along the line of your jaw down to your throat, his thumb dipping into the hollow there before his fingers dig themselves into the nape of your neck.

You let out a soft whimper, feeling the hard crescents of his finger nails as they sink into your skin.

“I love you,” he says, his voice smooth as silk and sweet as poison, “and I wanted — no… I needed you to love me too.”

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