#next up will be clem | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sturniqlo · 4 months ago

Text

Polaroids- M.S

summary: it's your wedding and your bridesmaids give matt a spicy polaroid picture of your throughout the night

cw: cursing, slight suggestive material no smut

an: based on this tiktok i saw | lowercase intended

masterlist

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

polaroid one

the night was going great. matt and y/n were enjoying their wedding reception, they had been tied to the hip all night long. y/n had this one particular plan all planned out ever since her best friend, gia, had mentioned it to her. "hey, what if instead of a boudoir book at the end of the night, why don't you give him boudoir polaroids throughout the night?" she had suggested. "that's a great idea! but, why don't i have you and the rest of my bridesmaids give them to him?" gia gasped. "you dirty girl! you're going to get him riled up!" she lightly slapped your arm.

later that week, gia went over to take the pictures for y/n while matt wasn't home. neither of them found it weird, they had been friends their whole lives and considered themselves sisters and they had seen eachother countless times. "he's going to love these. can't wait to accompany you in the delivery room in nine months" gia placed the stack of six picture in her bag, she was going to keep them safe so they wouldn't risk matt finding them. "gia!" y/n scolded her and laughed and she put her hair back up.

"don't try and use them to get off." y/n joked as she walked gia to the door. "i'll try not to." gia playfully frowned. that was about a month ago. "you ready?" gia asked y/n as she handed a picture to each bridesmaid. y/n gave gia the last picture matt would receive and would probably be his breaking point and he'll race them home. "yeah. clem, you can give it to him in about five minutes." y/n tells the first bridesmaid. "okay!"

five minutes go by and y/n gives clem, who's standing nearby, a nod to give it to him. y/n scooted a bit away from matt as she saw clem get closer. he was currently having a small chat with chris. "hey matt." clem goes next to him pats his shoulder and grabs his hand, placing the picture face down and closing his hand around it. "hey?" he furrows his eyebrows, looking down at his closed hand. "chris! let's get a drink!" clem pulls chris away from matt.

somewhere nearby, gia is filming matt's reaction on y/n's camcorder. she zooms in on his face and giggles. matt, still confused, looks at his now wife and she directs a head nod to his hand. "what is it?" he says. "look at it!" she says over the loud music. he opens his hand and flips the small picture around and gasps, quickly placing the picture down on his lap. he feels himself get flustered and looks back at y/n who is giggling. "woahh!" he says. matt looks back down at the picture and flips it back and looks up to see if anyone is looking.

polaroid two

it had been twenty minutes since clem last gave matt the polaroid and matt was ready to go home and love on his wife. he had to excuse himself from y/n to go the bathroom to splash water on his face and cool down. y/n laughed at matt's reaction to the first picture, it was barely anything. she doesn't know how he'll react to the rest of them. in those twenty minutes, matt had slowly forgotten about the picture in his pocket until he saw kay, another one of y/n's bridesmaid come up to him with a smirk on her face. "matthew, i have something for you." she places her hands on her back. "wait let me prepare myself."

gia records again, zooming in on the interaction. y/n, now next to her giggles at matt's closed eyes, taking a deep breath. "okay, i'm ready." he places his hand out and kay places the picture faced down on his palm and he quickly closes his hand around it as he sees chris go over to him. kay, long gone, goes to the two girls laughing. "i love his reactions."

chris goes up to matt and matt tries to hide his hand. "what'd she give you?" he asks, taking a sip of his second pepsi. "dude, shoo out of here." matt shoos him with his empty hand. antsy to look at the new picture. "let me see." chris says. "fuck no!" he walks away from chris to a secluded corner. he flips the picture and cups his hand around. "holy fuck." he mutters. taking a better look at the picture. he starts to feel his pants get tight around his cock. suddenly and hand on his shoulder startles him, hiding the picture.

"baby, it's just me." y/n whispers in his ear, giggling once more from his reaction. "why are you doing this to me." he slips the picture into his pockets to join the other one. "thought it'd be fun." she shrugs wrapping her arms around his neck pulling him down to peck his lips. "can we go home." he looks into her eyes, slowly dragging his hands down to cup her ass over her dress. "not yet, a couple more hours to go. plus there's still more pictures." she unwraps her arms and walks away from in, turing her head back occasionally.

"fuck me." he sighs running a hand through his hair.

polaroid three

another twenty five minutes had passed by and matt has not forgotten about the pictures in his pocket. when he would find himself alone, he would pulls them out and stare and then and out them back once he saw someone coming up to him to congratulate him on his marriage. he would also go up to y/n when she was alone grabbing a drink of water and hugged her from behind begging her to go home. "please baby." he kissed her neck.

for the third picture, lila shook his hand and slipped the picture into his hand, while he was talking to nick. nick being curious, tried to take a peek at the mysterious picture, but matt shook his head. "i'll be back." he said, walking to his and y/n's table with a pep in his step. flipping it around he automatically started to get hard. in the picture, y/n was covering her bare cunt with their comforter. and her tits were able to be seen by the thin top she was wearing. he started to sweat, tugging on the neckline of his button up shirt.

around the corner, the three girls were giggling into the camera as gia tried to keep the camera straight, trying to capture the memories for her best friend. "what's going on?" nick came up behind them. "y/n's bridesmaids have been giving matt picture of her, if you know what i mean." nick gasped. "y/n!" she giggled. "is that why he didn't let me see?" they nodded.

polaroid four (left)

it was time for the fourth picture to be given to matt. this scenario was a bit different. the photographer was near their table taking pictures of them and y/n gave ali the signal to give it to him while the cameras were going off and gia was recording. ali walked over patting his on the shoulder and sliding it on this shoulder signaling him to grab it. matt looks around at the cameras immediately turning red. although she was wearing a plain white set, it was the first ever set matt had bought for her. so to them it was special. his head goes straight to his hands and she shakes his head, y/n laughs, looking at the cameras.

the photographer leaves to get an extra battery and matt lifts his head up. "baby, i don't know how much longer i can wait." he whispers in her ear. "only two more hours, mkay?" she grabs his chin, pecking his lips quickly. "two hours to long." he mutters, going back to look at the polaroid.

matt can't wait to go to their shared home and enjoy their first night as newlyweds. he also can't wait to take her dress off and toss it somewhere in their room along with his clothes. he already plans on keeping the polaroids safe in his wallet.

polaroid five (but the front side wink wink)

it was nearing eleven pm and guest were starting to leave here and there. the couple was once again busy by the guests saying their goodbyes and congratulating them once more. it was the second to last photo of the night and matt was getting antsy, waiting for a new picture to hold him up while he waits to get home. as matt was sipping on his hard seltzer, stella walked over to him with a huge smile on her face. matt downs his drink, giving the empty can to chris so he can throw it away, matt rubs his hands together. "let's see what we got now." he looks over at y/n who is smiling knowing this is a more exposed picture.

stella stood in front of matt, "here you go mister, it's a good one." she hands him the picture before walking away to gia who is once again filming. he looks around making sure nobody is able to see. flipping it over, he gets flustered all over again. her tits are now on display as one of her hand are in her hair. looking around to try and spot y/n he quickly spots her short white dress and she's already looking at him, smirking. gia turns off the camera, going to get her picture she's about to give him in a couple of minutes. matt lifts his finger in a come hither movement to y/n

following matt's motions, y/n makes her way to him. "can i help you?" she acts innocent. "i'm debating whether or not to ditch our wedding and go home." he looks at the picture once more before putting it in his pocket and looking into her eyes. his pupils are dialed and full with hunger and desire, y/n can't help but smirk. "just a bit more, i promise." she goes on her tip toes and kisses him. "i'm taking it you liked this one more?" matt nods, throwing his head into her shoulder groaning.

"i need you now."

polaroid six (middle pic but less clothing iykwim)

the moment matt has been waiting for, the final picture. he noticed that as he was given the pictures they were getting more and more suggestive. he believed that this last one was going to be very different. she was going to be on full display and he was excited, knowing that he'll get to have her in less than an hour. he was thanking their past selves for choosing a close venue to their home. the quicker he gets them home, the quicker he gets to show her how much he loves her.

gia was the last to give him a picture so he went up to her. "i believe you have something for me?" he widens his eyes and gives her a knowing look. "thirsty are we?" she giggles, grabbing her phone and taking her phone case off and grabbing the picture. "have fun, kid. i'll take care of the mess here." she hands the picture over to him and pats his shoulder as she walks away.

like a routine, he looks around making sure nobody can see it and flips it over. he feels the blood rush to his cock. she's completely naked in this one. although her leg is covering her pussy, he can already imagine it. staring a bit longer, he puts in safely in his pocket and looks for y/n so he can get them out of here. spotting her a few feet away he walks over to her. "get your stuff, we're leaving." he grabs her waist from behind.

"yes, baby." she smirks.

1K notes · View notes

httpiastri · 3 months ago

Note

hiii! i would like a ❣️ but with voicemails from the drivers hinting that they like you? we have mostly the same favorite drivers so just write for whoever you think would be good 😌

❣️ – send me a prompt and one/a few drivers and i'll tell you how i think they would react!!

(featuring: lando, charles, alex, oscar, ollie, paul, arthur, pepe and clem)

lando norris

"i think you should come visit me in monaco more. you know that the bed in my guest room is always made for you. and i put on those sheets i know you like, and i have those fragrance sticks with the rose scent, you said you liked them last time you visited me. well, i mean, my room and my bed is always ready for you, too. and i'll be in it, so… *chuckle* my mind just keeps wandering off to when you were here a few nights ago, and… i think… honestly? i think you should move in with me. okay, that sounds crazy and impulsive and like i haven't thought this through, but i really have given it a lot of thought. i want you to move in here. don't worry about the expenses, i can take care of it all. and a moving truck to get your stuff, i'll pay for it. just… think about it, will you? don't just laugh it off. i'm serious about this."

charles leclerc

"i just got back to the apartment, and it's... so quiet without you here. i keep thinking about the last time we made dinner together and how you laughed so hard at my terrible cooking that the neighbors came over to complain. i'm still scared of meeting them in the stairwell. maybe next time, you should be the one to take charge and show me how it's done? save me from another disaster? or we could go out, whichever you prefer. i just really want to see you again. and not die from food poisoning."

alex albon

"the other day, you mentioned not having a necklace that fit the new top you bought. and for some reason, i just happened to find myself right outside a jewelry store today. so i went in and bought you something. the lady in the cash register told me that a longer chain with a pendant would fit a v-neck top best, so that's what i got. it's gold, of course, i wouldn't dare buy you anything silver after you lectured me about having a warm skin tone for half an hour... i don't know, i just wanted to tell you this so you don't run around stressing about having to buy a new necklace. i can drop by yours with it if you want me to. or if you want to wear the top tonight, i'll give it to you when i pick you up."

oscar piastri

"hey, i just wanted to check in with you, make sure you're okay. are you? *pause*. what he said tonight, that was... it wasn't right. you don't deserve that. he was wrong, he has no idea what he's talking about. please, call me when you get this."

ollie bearman

"can i come straight to yours from the airport? you don't have to hug me before i shower, i might be full of flight germs, but... i just want to see you. and i'm pretty sure i forgot my favorite sweater at your place last time i went to visit you. you know, the blue one?... i think you know. not that i want it back, you can keep it if you like it. i know you look cute in it... that's beside the point. i'll tell the taxi driver your address, let me know if you don't want me coming over. see you soon."

paul aron

"some kids are building a snow fort down the street. you know, in the park where we had that picnic last summer? one of them has slipped and fallen right onto his butt about ten times now, it's hilarious. i wish you were here to see it, you would've laughed your ass off. *pause*. wish you were here for other reasons, too. but... just one more week, right?"

arthur leclerc

"i may have had a bit too much wine but i needed to call you and tell you what i just realized. you have the prettiest eyes in the world. they are gorgeous. i want to trade eyes, if i have your eyes then i would be able to get any girl – but i still only have eyes for you. haha, get it? because they're your eyes? *pause*. why are you not answering? did you hang up on me? oh, is this voicemail? did you not think i was important enough to pick up the call? even at three in the morning, you should only think about me."

pepe marti

"i know i said i was going to call you tomorrow, but i just realized. i forgot to tell you something. sebastian is throwing a party this weekend- i think it's more of a housewarming-gathering-thing, and i wasn't really feeling like going, but... i would love to introduce you to some of my friends. they're all really nice, i promise you, and if you ever feel even slightly bad, we can leave instantly. i just want to show you off, i guess? everyone would be so jealous- i didn't mean it like that, i made it sound like- i'm sorry. just please, come with me. it would mean the world to me."

clement novalak

"i went by that bookshop i know you like. the cute little one near the subway station, right by the park? and i... i had some time to spare, so i went in. just to look around at first, but then i wanted to ask the woman who works there if they have that book you were talking about. but i just couldn't remember the name of it, so i tried to explain it to her based on what you told me weeks ago, but i was just rambling... but i think she managed to find the right one. hopefully. and when we went to pay, she asked if she should wrap it and i said 'sure', but when she asked who it was to, i froze... so the wrapping has little hearts on it, i hope that's okay. i'll see you tonight, right? can't wait."

275 notes · View notes

laneywrld · 7 months ago

Text

things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton

part one

word count: 9.2k

warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.

There's no way for a friends-with-benefits agreement to fail when both parties understand the rules.

"Do you ever get tired?"

Lewis turns his head to look at her inquisitively.

"What do you mean by that, Clem?" He chuckles.

Clem turns over onto her side, propping her head up in one hand.

"Do you think about having a life of your own without racing but with a family, a wife, and kids? Do you ever want to go home and stay home?"

Lewis stares Clementine in her dark eyes before he turns and looks back up at the blank ceiling.

"I don't know." He whispered into the air. "I don't have much time to think about things like that, serious relationships and such." He winces as he says the words.

"You're not hurting me, Lew, I know what this arrangement is. I was just curious." Clem chuckled, plopping back onto her back. She pulls the covers up to conceal her bare chest.

They lie in silence again, and Lewis is left to think about what she'd just asked him.

He spent a lot of his time in a serious relationship, and immediately after that ended, he was in his single bachelor phase; somehow, as the years went on, it never ended. That's how he's gotten Clementine in his bed.

Of all the girls he chose to spend his time with, Clementine was easily his favorite. She wasn't artificial or an ass-kisser to him; she was simply herself. And Lewis wasn't used to coming across women like that, given his status and all.

Clementine was actually the complete opposite of every other girl in his rotation. She was younger than him, yes, but she was also smart and had dreams she wanted to achieve on her own. He liked to joke that everything about her screamed old lady. Clementine liked that.

What's cooler than an old lady?

"I'm going to take that as a compliment. I can't wait to get old; there's beauty in knowing you've lived; I know I'm going to spend my life fulfilling my potential. It'd be cool to be an eccentric old lady, just happy and peaceful. Content with life."

It was entirely by chance that he ran into her at all that night two years ago. He had been taking a late-night walk in the streets of New York when he first saw her.

Initially, her style caught his attention, but the closer he got to her, the more noticeable was her smile and then her voice. God, she had the voice of an angel. She had that classic American drawl, so sultry and sweet like she was straight out of the fifties but with a twist.

Then he realizes that he's seen her before, and he stops in his tracks, trying to pinpoint where exactly he'd recognized her gorgeous face from.

"Do I know you?" Lewis questions confidently.

Clem halts, her lips puckering in as she squints at the unfamiliar man. "Sorry, Sir. I don't think so."

She surely doesn't recognize him.

And then it clicks, he snaps. "My photographer, Timothy McGurr!"

"Oh wow," she smiles. "I love Timmy. You said he's your photographer?"

"Yes, for the last four years."

"Wow, four years." She marvels, "You model?"

"No." He laughs, shaking his head, "I race cars."

"Nascar?" She wonders, tilting her head to the side.

"Formula One." He corrects, and she hums, impressed.

"I've heard serious things about you guys over there. Anyhow, it was nice meeting you," she trails off, allowing him to introduce himself.

"Lewis." He sticks his hand out, "Lewis Hamilton."

As she shakes his hand, her phone lights up with a notification just as a black SUV pulls in. "That's me. It was a pleasure meeting you Mr, Hamilton." She smiles kindly, and then she slips into the vehicle and rides off into the night.

Lewis stands there for a second. He doesn't know why, but he feels drawn to her for some reason.

The very next morning, he called his photographer for her details. Lewis has always been rather bold, so he isn't nervous when he dials her number. "Hi, Clementine?"

And the rest was history.

Lewis has learned one specific thing about Clem since their rendezvous began. She was an intense person. She liked to talk about any and everything. Lewis didn't mind it, though. It was nice to unpack with someone he knew wouldn't judge him.

She had a way of making anything she asked feel deep. Lewis was both enamored and intimidated by that.

Just as she was intuitive, she was equally as open. Lewis knew he could always bounce the question back to her, and she'd give him the most well-thought-out and theoretical answer.

He loved listening to her talk just as much as he loved fucking her.

"Do you ever get tired?" He ricochets.

"All of the time, and it's sad because I'm still so young, but I often wonder if any of this is even worth it. Is slaving away so hard going to be worth it in the future if I've spent my glory days basking in trying to find glory."

"I have faith in you, Clem. You're already lightyears ahead of the rest of us with that mind of yours."

She chuckles, and they bask in the comfortable silence for a while longer, both looking up at the ceiling of his New York penthouse like they're staring out into the galaxy.

"Do you feel like you have enough glory?"

"No," he answers honestly, "I won't be content until I reclaim my eighth."

From the corner of his eye, he sees her head lull to the side and stare at him. Lewis doesn't get uncomfortable when Clem stares at him like he does when most people do. The idea of her reading into him is flattering more than unsettling.

"If you weren't a driver, what would you want to be?"

"A designer of all sorts, really. Music, fashion, you name it." He lists off, and she lets out an mhhm sound.

"I can actually see that. You have a very creative mind." She praises.

"What about you? What would Clementine Russell be doing right now if she wasn't an actress?"

She chuckles, "Well, for starters, I wouldn't be naked in your bed. I'd probably be somewhere in the middle of nowhere, like Montana." She gasps, "Yeah, Montana! And I'd have a farm full of animals that I'd never eat, and I'd go out and sit and paint or write more stories that no one would ever see. If I could go back in time, I'd just write my stories, not play in them. I would hike the same mountain every day and watch the sunset. Yeah, I'd sit and watch the sunset every day and admire how beautiful everything becomes. "

For some reason, that statement holds a more significant sentiment than she intended.

"You sure do have a way with words."

"I try."

Silence falls over that pair again until she breaks it.

"Do you think I'm annoying?"

"No, never." Lewis reveals, "I actually like having you here to talk to; why do you ask?"

"Sometimes I feel like I talk too much and ask too many questions."

"I think you make people feel seen when you ask questions the way you do." He hums. "Do people ask you questions?"

"No, not really."

"Do you wish people asked you questions, Clem?"

"Yes."

That's when Lewis realizes that all that glimmers isn't gold. Clementine Walker had the life of a star. She could do anything she wanted at any given time. Yet she wasn't content with her life. She was actually rather lonely.

"I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something." She chuckles dryly. "That's pathetic."

And suddenly, Lewis feels terrible for not asking the woman more questions. He feels like a shit person for receiving her and giving her nothing in return. Clementine was better than therapy for him; who gave therapy to her?

"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk? I consider you to be a friend Clem. I like listening to you. I like hearing about you, too."

"Okay."

"We can start now?"

"You first." She has a giddy smile on her face as she turns over to face him.

"Why do you think you feel everything so deeply?"

She hums, her eyes casting downward as she allows the question to ruminate.

"I expect everything to be meaningful. I have a hard time seeing anything objectively. Everything has to mean something to me, and if it doesn't, what's the point? If it has no purpose, how am I supposed to accept it? I feel so deeply because every word, action, and situation has to mean something; there has to be a reason behind it. I've never had someone tell me that things weren't that deep; I wasn't taught to brush things off; I was taught to feel and to try to understand everything and everyone."

"I think that's beautiful. You're such a gracious being, you know that?"

She whispers a quiet thanks as she thinks over what to ask him.

"What's one thing you lost as a kid that you wish you could get back?"

"I had a remote-controlled big Homer car when I was a kid, and I used to drive it in the park every day. I got distracted one day and left without it; when I came back the next day, it was gone."

"Who gave it to you?" Clem inquires, and when Lewis turns onto his side to face her, she looks so intrigued by what he has to say. He doesn't think anyone has ever cared so much for what he has to say if it wasn't involving his career.

"My dad, for my sixth birthday. We were poor, so it meant a lot to me; I really cherished it. Felt like I took it for granted, I loved that car so much, but I left it. How could I forget something that important to me?"

Naturally, Lewis opens up to Clementine.

"You can love something and still lose it, which illustrates how much you adore it in the end. You never really know how much you appreciate something until you no longer have it." Clem enlightens.

Lewis wonders how her brain can process such complex thoughts in mere seconds.

"What have you lost?"

"A letter from my dad." Clem hums. "When he was in prison before things got bad with my mom and he stopped reaching out, I was turning eight, and he sent this beautiful card. It was Clementine orange, and when you opened it, a three-dimensional cake popped out with like a million yellow candles. I remember it saying these candles don't compare to the light you brought to the world on this day many years ago." Clem chuckles as she describes the elaborate birthday card. She picks at Lewis' sheets as she speaks.

He sees her lips pressed together, and she turns to face the ceiling again. She doesn't seem like she intends to keep talking.

"I'm listening, y'know. I'd love to hear more." Under the covers, his hand travels down until it catches hold of Clems.

"I-um, He wrote his message in like really elegant cursive, and I was a kid at the time, so I had my grandpa read it to me over and over, like every day, until I had fully memorized it. I had never seen my dad in person. I had never heard his voice, not even over the phone. I had never even gotten a letter from him before. Still, the things he wrote in that letter were beautiful. I remember feeling a little less lonely as if he loved me unconditionally. There were dried tears embedded in the paper material. I knew he cried as he wrote it, and that made me feel like, damn, this is a man who means what he says, feels exactly what he writes. I don't know when I lost that letter or how I just knew when I went for it again. It was nowhere to be found. I'm forgetting the words he wrote to me."

"Have you heard from him since?"

"Once but not directly. When I turned fifteen, he was released. He felt like he wouldn't know how to be a father when he got out. Which I understood. I can't force anyone to have a relationship with me. It must’ve been hard going in when your child is an infant and coming out to her fully bloomed. He cried on the phone to my grandpa every time he argued with my mom. She'd say nasty things to him, like how he'd never be a father to me and how I was better off. I figured when you're locked in a cell, and all you can think about is going home to your child, it must’ve been hard to hear that you would never account for anything. I believe he gave up. Not everyone is strong enough to take on that kind of mental battle."

Even as Clementine describes how fucking sucky her childhood was, she is still showing grace to the people who ruined her innocence.

"He never asked to speak to me during these calls. My mother always kept him at a distance when he was in prison. If he had written more letters than the one he sent to my grandpa, like he wrote that he did, I never got them. She was good at telling him that she didn't want him in my life. I don't blame her either; neither of them was ready to be parents. I got a call on my eighteenth birthday. It was just breathing on the other side for a while. I had a feeling it was him, so I didn't hang up, but it was a gravely voice on the other end and he sounded a little choked up. Said the exact same line from my birthday card, I'm not sure if you like cake, but eat a lot of it today princess. Happy birthday. And then the call disconnected. Kind of fucked me up a little bit because I think I was just getting to a point where I was finally okay with not having parents."

"I'm sorry." Lewis solaces.

"It's cool, builds character." She jokes dropping her elbow and lying completely on her side.

"I pride you on your gracefulness, truly."

"My grandpa always told me that if you can find grace in failings, life becomes more beautiful. If you can find grace in every situation, eventually, those graces will catch up to you. Everyone deserves to have grace; who am I to hold something above someone else because of how it made me feel? You never know what made someone act the way they did. In the end, it may have affected them more than me, but as long as I'm gracious and I consider these kind of things to be a possibility it makes it easier for me."

Lewis thinks back to all the times he handled situations without grace, when he allowed himself to blow up over small things, and how, in the end, it made situations worse than they needed to be. He internally hums at the realization.

"Shit."

She is shuffling from his bed, sheets clutched tightly against his chest.

She gracefully moves around his room, the sheets fitting her like a gown. Lewis props himself up on one arm, watching her gather her belongings.

When she tosses the sheet back onto the bed, he watches as she pulls on her pants and steals his button-up to throw over her thin tank top.

She sits on the edge of his bed, throwing on her worn Adidas sambas.

"It's been a blast, Sir Hamilton." She bows, and he softly launches a pillow at her. She catches it with a sweet grin and places it at his feet. "I have to be on set early tomorrow. My assistant sent a car for me."

"I'll call you when I'm back in town," he suggests, and she nods, letting out a noise of agreement as she saunters over to his bedroom door.

"Be safe out there on the track." She blows him a kiss, and then she is gone, and he hears his front door close gently.

Lewis likes spending time with Clem. She has a way of taking every ounce of stress from his bones.

Lewis wasn't a relationship kind of guy, and he liked that Clem understood that. She wasn't trying to force a relationship on him or was convinced she could change his mind.

Clem was there for the great sex and the even better conversations. The two of them had made great friends out of each other, and they were both content with the status of their association.

Lewis never told Clementine this, but he liked watching her work. He liked how she could put out art, and he could resonate with it. Lewis thinks that Clem is the most emotionally intelligent person he's ever met, which is why everything she puts her hands on just works.

And it shows. Clementine is the kind of person whose words sound like they're straight from classic literature. She has a way of speaking that instantly captivates every person in her proximity.

Clementine was a Jill of trades. She liked to act, but she was an even better writer. This is why she was awarded co-director of her award-winning show after helping to direct only three episodes. He knew she had a knack for all things creative. She liked to draw, paint, and read, and she had a thing for tattoos just as much as he did.

Clementine was actually so fucking cool.

People loved her naturally; she only had to be herself, and it made people gravitate towards her.

Being around Clem was like having the hands of an angel on you. It was impossible to feel troubled, even if you were going through the most unfortunate or stressful circumstances. If you had Clem, trust you'd feel nirvana.

Her words echo in his mind. I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something.

He switches on his television and clicks on the Netflix app. It's the first option under his 'continue watching' category, and he presses resume.

Lewis loved her show, though he never admitted it. It was artsy and different than what was new and hot now. Clem channeled all of her favorites to make this show. He remembers her describing her obsession with Jim Carrey and The Truman Show. Her favorite movie of all time was Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind, and her favorite character also shared her name.

He knew that Clementine cried when she read Tuesdays with Morrie, just like she did when she watched Requiem for a Dream. She had an odd obsession with The Joker movie and was even more obsessed with the lore of how each Joker is portrayed differently. She always saw herself in Charlie, from the perks of being a wallflower.

She rewatched What's Eating Gilbert Grape at least once a week. If you asked her, Tim Burton was the best director in the world, and she had a special connection to Edward Scissorhands. She also loved anything with a narrator.

She was right. It makes you feel each character a little bit more to hear their every thought.

He now knows that she likes to narrate her own show because she likes to talk about what she feels. No one asks her how she feels.

Everything that Clem likes is so deep and complex, and it fits her perfectly.

He must admit that he had never heard of any of these shows, movies, or books before meeting Clementine. But seeing how passionately she described them had him desperate to enlighten himself. He sees the inspiration of it all in her show.

Every episode starts with a question. Clem appears facing away from the camera, an oversized Carhartt denim jacket adorning her frame. He sees that she is sitting on a mountain, a camera held to her face, taking pictures of the most scenic view he's ever seen.

Her voice emerges through the speaker, yet her mouth is unmoving.

"You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever, everything unchanged and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"

The camera is still panned out but moves to the side, where he views her relaxed frame from the side. As the camera zooms in she breaks the fourth wall, turning to face the camera. The sky is oddly vividly blue in the background and the clouds are all weirdly perfect.

"Probably here."

As the sun sets, the sky adorned in perfect warm hues, she sets the camera beside her and folds her hands in her lap. She turns to face the beautiful view, and she looks more content with life than she's ever seen.

Her voice rings through the speaker again as the camera pans out, and her body begins to look smaller and smaller against the vast sky.

"You can still see the sunset even on the darkest of days.”

The next time Lewis sees Clem is at her the Cannes movie festival.

She is obviously the lady of the hour, and he's had a hard time catching up with her.

When he finally does see her, his breath hitches as she maneuvers through the crowd and away from the red carpet in a very elaborate gown. She looks like a princess.

Like she can feel his eyes on her, her head turns and she sees Lewis standing amongst a group of other celebrities.

There are three people surrounding her. Zeus, her bodyguard, SK her assistant and finally her publicist Nia.

She approaches him, ready to greet him with a wide grin; Lewis has a grin of his own covering his face as he steps ahead of the group.

"Lewis, Hi!" She pitches, raising her arms to hug him; he happily accepts her embrace, wrapping his own around her frame.

"Can't wait to see you on the big screen." He boosts, and she smiles up at him, ready to reply, when a hand clamps down over her wrist and begins pulling her away, "Sorry, got to keep going, Clem."

She offers him a rushed smile, lifting her dress so that she can exit with speed. Lewis has never once felt like the fan in a situation until it came to Clem.

"So the movie is going to be about cannibalism?" His friend asks, looking through the pamphlet.

"No," Lewis combats. "I mean, yes, but it's deeper than that, the flesh represents..." and he drones on describing the lore of her new movie, Bones and All.

His description is almost word for word the way you described it to him after he asked the same exact question.

"So it's a movie about eating people?"

Clementine laughed, shaking her head, and moved to sit against his headboard. Her skin was still flushed from their previous actions, and her mouth was dry.

"Cannibalism is just the placeholder for many different vices. Everyone has their vices. By using something that damn near everyone looks down on, the symbolism of just how serious these issues are get understood tenfold. Think of it like this, you get mental illness from one parent, and the other denies that you have it. They believe you're perfect, nothing is wrong, but deep inside, there is this illness growing in you and festering out of control that you can't get help for, that won't be accepted."

"Imagine being homosexual, imagine not being able to express that, especially in the eighties; it becomes a bliss you have to satisfy in private. Something you must keep a secret, or something bad will happen to you. Some vices are passed on, like alcoholism or addiction, and even trauma can be passed on, like mental illness; it's about how you have to hide it all, how it catches up to you, and how it ruins you. If you watch it, think about that, Lewis. Think about what each character represents. What is the flesh they're eating?"

Lewis cries during the movie. He sees that he is not the only one as the lights illuminate the cinema, and there are no dry eyes in sight. Lewis would never understand how Clem was able to have such a complex mind and also make it so simple and still artistic to the point where anyone could understand.

Lewis usually hates being forced to attend film festivals. He especially dreads the standing ovations that drag on and on. But he graciously stands for the entire seventeen minutes that her movie receives.

He's always told Clem that, at a certain point, she'd have to let that humbleness go. Lewis was a humble person, there was nothing wrong with it, but he didn't like that Clem thought she didn't deserve praise for her work. He wanted her to know she was the shit.

He feels his heart swell with pride as she marvels at the cheers, whoops, whistles, and applause.

He places his fingers between his lips, letting out a whistle of his own. It dominates the space, and she turns to face him like she knows it is him.

Clementine's grin grows impossibly larger, and she lifts her arm to wave at Lewis. He spreads his arms out in front of him and bows at her.

Clementine chuckles, shaking her head at him.

Although she attends the film festival every year, this was her first time presenting her work as a director. This was a huge deal to her. Not only was she the star actress in the film, but this was hers. Her work, her words, her art, and people loved it and understood.

As two more dreamy minutes pass on and the cinema falls into an air of collective chatter, she folds her hands over her heart and speaks to her fellow costars.

"Holy fucking shit," Timothee curses, "do you understand that we just got a nineteen-minute standing ovation?" He places her head between his hands, pulling it towards him and placing a kiss in her hair. "Fuck, Clem. You're a fucking creative genius, you know that?"

When Clementine finally got used to people she realized that she actually does like parties. Here she was being celebrated by people, some she knew, some she didn't all the way in France.

She is in a mansion in France, fresh off the red carpet, throwing back shots with every pat on the back. There is a thrill in being praised, and with each pat on the back or congratulatory kiss on the cheek she gets, she feels herself levitating.

When Clementine first got the idea for the movie, she stayed awake for twenty-four hours, holed up in her bedroom, typing away at her keyboard as she planned and created rough drafts of a proposal.

If you asked Clem, she doesn't think that she's a creative genius like everyone else believes. She thinks that she materializes how she feels into forms of art that people will understand. She doesn't sit and think long and hard or even look for targeted things to express. She just knows.

Clem wanted to write a movie for those she felt had been denying themselves. For the kids confused about their feelings and things they can't control. From alcoholism, sexual identity, mental illness, addiction, and all the way to feeling lonely and navigating life on your own. She wanted to make a movie that materialized how it feels to come of age without understanding the purpose of life. And she'd done it.

Clem wouldn't say she was particularly close to any of the people here at the afterparty, minus Timothee. They had grown very close since filming together.

Clem actually wouldn't say she was close to many people at all other than her small, tight-knit group of friends and, of course, Lewis. Which is ironic because their entire relationship is built on the basis of sex.

She can't lie; when she first met Lewis, she was instantly attracted to him. He had a certain kind of charm about him that just screamed, You're going to respect me.

Clem liked that Lewis stood ten toes behind what he believed, always. She liked that he was genuinely a kind person and not just pretending for the media. What he put out was actually who he was, and Clementine wasn't used to seeing that in the celebrity world.

Lewis fully intended to be friends with Clementine when he called her that first night, but the longer they were in each other’s presence, the more obvious it was to sense the lingering sexual tension between them.

Clem wasn't offended when Lewis admitted that he wanted to sleep with her and keep her around without the formalities of a romantic relationship.

In fact, she was fine with it.

She didn't judge him when he explained how he wasn't a relationship kind of guy. She listened intently when he described how demanding his job was, and she even hummed along in agreement when he concluded that sex can sometimes just be fun.

It'd been two years since she first met Lewis; she was older and more mature. More demanding of herself.

She was learning to let things go as the days passed and let things come when the world felt.

She feels like she's gotten to know herself better, and she owes a lot of that to the nearly 40-year-old driver who has taken the time to unravel parts of her that no one else bothered.

So when she sees Lewis walk through the grand entrance now dressed in a far more casual outfit than the black Louis Vuitton tuxedo that adorned his frame earlier, she can't help the way her smile makes her eyes crinkle.

She rushes from the bar, slipping past the guests, crowding the home, and speeds up the stairs as fast as her heels can take her.

She lets her dress fall at her feet as she tosses on her own less formal outfit and descends the stairs again in search of her friend.

He sees her first, perched on the stairs with a concentrated face, and he chuckles at just how focused she looks. Her eyes are scanning the crowd, and he waits patiently until her eyes catch his.

When they finally meet, he raises his hand in a cool wave, and she grins, skipping down the stairs. He raises his brows when she finally makes it to him after being stopped time and time again by other partygoers.

"Lady of the hour, huh?" He jokes, pulling her into him.

"I don't even know these people," she whispers, smiling softly and offering a wave as a drunken man passes by and calls out her name. She turns back to Lewis with fogged eyes, "Timothee wanted to throw an afterparty, so here we are."

"You have been celebrating?"

"I've taken a few shots or so." She smiles, "Can we get out of here?"

Lewis nods, "Yeah, of course."

His hand travels down and takes her own, leading her from the full house. "Where do you want to go, love?"

"Anywhere is fine; just want to be far away from people." She sighs.

Lewis peers down at her, watching as she scours the long driveway.

He motions her to his car and she slips from his hold already pacing towards it. She hops into the passenger side when she hears the car unlock and he plops down into the drivers seat.

"Why are you here in France? You didn't tell me you'd be here." Clem inquires as Lewis places his phone into her lap so that she can play music. He always preferred her music taste when they rode in the car late at night.

"I wanted to see the movie and support my friend." He smirked.

"You have to be in Monaco tomorrow!" she gasps. " You can't do that, Lew. You need rest. When did you even get here?"

"I touched down today after qualifying."

"No." Clem disapproves, "I could’ve just gotten you tickets to the premier. You must be so tired."

Lewis shakes his head, "M'fine. Besides, I wanted to be one of the first people to see it." Which was a lie because he was totally exhausted.

"Early flight tomorrow, then?" Clem asks.

Lewis only nods, already knowing her eyes are set on him. Frank Ocean begins to play through his speakers, and he hums along to the song playing. It brings upon his next thought.

"I say you posting in the studio?" He eyes, "Let me find out Clemy girl about to be in the booth spitting."

She laughs shaking her head, "not even, I was just there with Tyler. Did record a few vocals for him though."

"Maybe one day you should, I don't know, release something of your own."

Clem scoffs, "I know you think I can do everything. We're not all great at everything."

"It's true, do you think you can do it all, besides I've heard you singing in the shower; sounds nice."

"So you wait outside of the bathroom listening to me, creep."

He smacks his teeth, removing one hand from the wheel to blindly mush her.

"I'm serious, though. I think you have a beautiful voice."

"Thank you. Maybe one day we'll both stop playing in the studio and do something together." She chortles, "So I guess what I'm saying is, I'll do it if you do."

Lewis smirked, nodding his head. "Deal."

Lewis takes her back to his hotel for the night. He smiles as he watches her from the living room. She is on the balcony, arms spread along the banister.

He approaches her. Like she can sense his presence, she speaks up, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

He doesn't bother looking out to the view. He keeps his eyes on her. "Yeah, very beautiful."

Sometime in the night, the two of them ended up entangled in his bed, both on their sides, as Lewis thrust into her from behind. One of his arms is outstretched and serving as a pillow for her neck, and the other is wrapped around her waist, holding onto her hand as he moves deeper and deeper into her warmth.

He knows that when she squeezes around him for that final time, he's as good as done for, sheathing himself as far as he can get; his mouth drops open as he releases himself in heavy spurts. Clem exhales as he finishes, her grip on his hand loosening slightly.

Lewis doesn't bother to remove himself from her core; the arm nestled between the crook of her neck and shoulder bends until his hand is cupping her jaw and forcing her head back towards him, where he is leaning over her shoulder. He smashes his lips against hers in a searing peck, one after the other, until he holds his mouth against hers. She opens her mouth, and their tongues glide against each other in perfect harmony.

Finally, they pull apart to breathe, and Lewis pulls out with a hiss. They both fall onto their backs, his taken arm still resting beneath her head and his free arm holding their conjoined hands against his chest.

"It gets better and better every time." She admits, and Lewis lets out his signature boyish laugh, turning to face Clem. She is taking the time to catch her breath, a happy, satisfied grin covering her face as she stares up at nothing.

It's like a scene from a movie. The curtains flowed gently against the wind, and the night sky of Cannes was illuminated by stars blazing through his open balcony doors. Clem's exquisite side profile is the main focus.

He reaches over, pulls his phone from the nightstand, and slyly takes a picture before dropping his phone beside him and reconnecting their hands.

"I should go," Clem announces with a sigh. "You have an early morning ahead of you."

"You don't have to go." Lewis tested, "It's late."

"It's always late when we're together, Lewis." Clem reminds.

"I- Just stay the night. It doesn't have to be weird. We know what we're doing."

He feels her head turn against his head and knows that she's looking at him with those same endearing eyes. "Okay," she whispers into the air.

"Besides, we haven't talked." Lewis murmurs, and Clem smiles. "Can't break the ritual. You remember when I asked you where you would be if you weren't you, and you said Montana?"

Clem hums in agreement. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Think we should go one day, you and me. See those animals; climb that mountain."

Clem wills back the tears burning behind her eyes. That conversation occurred two months into their arrangement, and two and a half years later, here he was, bringing up small details to a dream she'd told him about briefly.

"What?" Lewis murmurs, watching her grin.

"Nothing, just surprised you remembered that, is all."

"I remember everything you say to me, Clementine."

"I'd love to go to Montana with you," she whispers after a while. "It's the prettiest in spring."

"Well, we'll go next spring then." Lewis declares.

Clem smiles against against his arm, placing a peck there. "Deal, if you're not sick of me by then, we'll climb that mountain in Montana."

Lewis turns back towards the celing hoping she can't tell that her simple actions had his face burning and had his blood rushing.

"You know in eternal sunshine of the spotless mind when they're laying on the ice?"

"Yeah, Clem." Lewis chuckles. "We've watched it a million times."

"That's what it feels like laying here right now with you."

"Thank you." Lewis grins.

"Her hair was blue." Clem points out. "Her hair changed colors to represent their relationship. Why do you think it was blue?"

"They were starting over. Maybe she was still down about erasing him."

"Huh," Clem sighs, "that's a good take."

"Shower?"

"With you?" She wonders.

"If you're okay with that."

"I just let you fuck me into oblivion. Why not let you clean me up."

Much cleaning hadn't gone down in the shower.

clementine

liked by lewishamilton, tchalamet, and 8,898,465 others

clementine the best week, the most perfect week.

view all comments

lewishamilton Amazing movie 🙌🏽 such a deep message.

tchalamet And she's done it again people.

badgalriri Such a beautiful film, queen. ❤️

pharell, You're a literal artistic genius; I look forward to working with you in the future.

user Clemmy + Timmy. The duo we didn't know we needed.

As Lewis saunters around the hotel room quietly the next morning, he keeps a cautious eye on the girl in his bed. He trips over his discarded shoe as he focuses on not waking her up. He mentally facepalms himself as she begins to stir.

Clem sits up, dazed and groggy; she clutches the sheets to her chest as she peers at Lewis, who looks like a deer caught in headlights.

"Good morning," he winces, "Sorry, I was packing my suitcase back up, didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine," she rasps, reaching over to grab her phone and checking the time. When she sees that it's seven in the morning, she internally groans but slides her legs off the side of the bed to get ready to pack herself up.

"Woah, hey-" Lewis is by her side in an instant. "Where you going, love?"

Clem pauses, still half asleep she examines him through puffy eyes. "Your flight is at 8:30, right? You're about to head out."

Lewis nods but lifts her legs back onto the bed. "Yeah, but checkout is not until twelve."

When he realizes that she is still glancing at him in confusion, he sits on the bed beside her. "You can stay here, Clem; get some rest before you get on the road. I'll leave the room key with you. Just let them know you're checking out for the king suite."

He laughs as she furrows her brows. "Don't make it weird." he reiterates from last night.

She lets her head fall back against the pillows, more than happy to return to her slumber.

"How long are you going to be in Monaco?"

"About a week."

Clem tried not to think too deeply about his big palm spread over her thigh, his thumb caressing it so tenderly.

"Oh." She mutters, "and then Canada?"

Lewis chuckles, his hand coming up to hold her jaw tenderly, his thumb caressing her cheek. "Look at you," he chuckles, "got my schedule memorized, huh?"

Clem feels the familiar burning in her face as she suppresses her shy smile. "Oh, please." she scoffs. "We've been at this for two years. Of course, I remember the times you begged me to hop on your plane and fly to you so that you could get your rocks off."

Lewis smirks, "Look at that, caught a flight to you this time." And he's bending down and smearing his mouth against hers. He dominates the kiss, his large hand on her jaw keeping her in place for him to use her mouth as he pleases. "Mhmm." he groans pulling away.

"Wanna stay with you here all day, Clem. But I've got a flight to catch."

He is standing and bending over to press one last unexpected peck to her mouth and then her temple before he is at the end of the bed and latching onto his suitcase.

"The keys on the table, okay? Go back to sleep, and order yourself some food for me when you wake up. And text me, okay?"

Clem sits up, still mind-boggled from the kiss, and nods her head.

Lewis smiles, sending her a wave and easing out of the door.

Clementine nearly screams as the door clicks shut, and she hears his footsteps getting farther away.

Casually kissing wasn't a thing between them. Lewis was sweet, yes, but not once has he sat and caressed her and spoken so softly to her. She had never spent the night with him or fell asleep in his arms. And here he was, flipping her entire world upside down and telling her not to make it weird.

It's what she repeats to herself over and over throughout the day as the tender moments with Lewis replay in her head.

He was just being a friend, of course he would show up to support her, right? Of course he wouldn't want her to be on the road late at night or extra early in the morning? And they've kissed before, only during sex but maybe he was wound up in the moment, they were friends with added benefits, did those benefits now include impromptu kisses?

She groans as she checks out from his room and hobbles into the waiting SUV where her assistant waits with her packed bags. "You had a time last night." SK teases as he takes in his boss' disheveled appearance.

"Shut up." Clem grunts, buckling herself in.

SK raises his hands in surrender and then gets back to typing away on his phone. Clem lets her forehead drop against the window as she drives through the beautiful French city.

"Hey, SK?" When he lets out a noise to signal he's listening, she asks him for a favor. "If I asked you to find something for me and get it sent to Monaco, do you think you could get it there before the end of the week?"

SK smacks his teeth, "Girl, please, do you know who you're talking to? I could have it there tomorrow."

"You're the best, SK." she smiles.

"Don't I know it. What is it you need me to get my hands on."

Sure enough, the next morning, Lewis is interrupted by a knock on his door as he clips on his jewelry.

He saunters over to the door his pants hung low and shirtless, swinging open the door to reveal the butler that the hotel provided. When his eyes travel south he see's the luxurious gift box in his hands.

"For you, Sir Hamilton. Delivered early today, pre-approved by your assistant."

Lewis thanks the man, motioning for him to hold still for a second as he rushes to retrieve some hefty bills from his wallet.

He pulls the box from his outstretched hand and replaces it with the bills.

When Lewis closes the door and saunters over to the couch, he plops down and sets the box on the coffee table.

He pulls the stock card from underneath the black ribbon and smiles as he reads over it.

thank you for showing up for me, and congrats on yet another win.

- 🍊

He smiles and taps the card against the box a few times before deciding to open it. He lets out a surprised squawk as he lifts the lid and sees a packaged vintage Big Homer super buggy.

Lewis covers his mouth with his hands stuck between letting out a scream that would resemble a child on christmas day or a cry.

Clementine Russell, he thinks, the woman you are.

He pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of the gift, and sends it to her.

#lewis hamilton x black fem oc #formula 1 #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #poc reader #f1 #black reader #black reader friendly #black female oc

322 notes · View notes

runningfrom2am · 1 year ago

Text

leveling the playing field III

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.9k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows. this one is the arena bombing scene so yeah, regardless its not graphic so

masterlists // nav // requests

join my taglist here

a/n: btw this is lowkey becoming a mix of the book and the movie so if there's inconsistencies dw about it lol, its all just a jumbled mess in my head at this point and i am for some reason working from memory

next part

"Wait! Wait! I'm here!" You call out, urging the line of mentors and tributes to wait for you before they enter the arena, running up from your father's town car with a notebook and pencil in hand.

Coriolanus was simultaneously annoyed by your arrival, delayed or not, considering he didn't expect you, and also part of him was relieved to have you at his side. Entering the arena himself was a daunting task, now that he knows that the mentors are far from safe from harm in this situation.

You're slightly out of breath as you catch up to him and Lucy Gray, panting as you adjust your bag where it sits over your shoulder. "Sorry, I'm late." You breathe out, smoothing down your hair.

"Why are you even here, Y/L/N?" Felix asks, turning from his spot in front of you to look.

"Mind your own, for once." You spit, returning your attention to Coryo and Lucy Gray. "Hey, where's Clem?"

Coryo shakes his head slightly as the line starts to move forward. "I'll explain later." He answers vaguely. You're confused, sure, but you did have bigger things to worry about. He was right. You brought your notebook to take notes on the layout, potential hiding spots, and potential advantages that Lucy Gray could exploit in the games.

"Enjoy the show!" You hear the echo from the speakers as every duo enters the arena, and you cringe.

"That's dark." You mutter to yourself, taking in your surroundings in the tunnel before being among the last few to enter. The first thing you notice is that the arena is bigger in person than on the screen, you hadn't been inside since you were a toddler- before the war. You try and pick your family's box along the top, but it's no use. You don't even have the slightest memory of this place before the games.

The next thing you notice is Lucy Gray holding onto Coryo's hand as the door slams shut behind you and the windows slide open above you. You grip your pencil tighter in your palm and look down, attempting to scribble down a layout on the page in front of you as you regain a light source. You have one job, and you'll be damned if you don't do it. For now, your best shot at earning Dr. Gaul's favour is giving Lucy Gray an advantage due only to her surroundings. Making her play the game.

"Okay, so, options are limited but I think we just need to have a good look around. There ought to be a good hiding spot around here." You say, clocking how quickly the girl drops his hand.

Focus is a priority, unfortunately, her comfort will have to come second. She'll have time for comfort once you can get her out of this arena and back to Twelve.

"What do you need, Coriolanus?" You ask, noticing he seemingly zoned out taking in his surroundings.

He tries to process what you're asking of him, but just ends up giving you a blank stare as you tilt your head, looking up at the tall boy. "I beg your pardon?" He asks, clearly having not heard a word you said.

"What do you need me to do?" You ask again.

"Well," He starts, and both of you notice at the same time that other tributes are talking and realize that alliances are being built. "Go... do that. Talk to Lysistrata." He instructs and you nod, walking quickly toward where is standing trying to talk to a confused-looking Jessup.

"Lyssie." You grin, flipping to a fresh page of your notebook.

"Y/N, hi." She says, clearly focussed in on trying to get him to pay attention to her.

"Is he okay?" You ask, feigning worry. Well, if this is Lucy Gray's only option for an ally, her odds are not looking good. That was genuinely worrying.

"I don't know..." Your classmate answers, reaching up to point out a wound on his neck. "He's got this bite... I think it could be infected. Your father is a doctor, what do you think?"

"Can you get him anything to help?" You ask, getting closer to take a better look. It does look infected, and you're unsure what it could be. You raise your hand to touch his forehead in search of a fever, but you suspect you will find one considering he is already delirious.

"Y/N!" You hear your name being called and you turn, seeing Coriolanus gesturing for you to back up.

You sigh to yourself and drop your hand, taking a step back. "I would bring him something but I don't know what would help." Lyssie sighs.

"If you can get him to agree to be an ally to Lucy Gray, I can bring antibiotics. Something strong. I'll discuss it with my father, see what he recommends." You offer, hoping to buy her a friend in the arena.

"I'll try my best." She nods. "They've been close, I can't see why not."

"I'll bring him something tonight then." You nod, patting her on the shoulder before continuing on your path of selling Lucy Gray as an ally.

You look around the large room again, looking for whoever would be her best option, and whoever of your classmates would even agree to speak with you. Sejanus- of course.

You tuck your papers under your arm as you walk over to him and Marcus. You can quickly see they aren't on any kind of speaking terms, standing awkwardly together on the opposite side of the center. "Sejanus!" You call out, and he's visibly relieved to see that someone wants to talk to him.

"Y/N." He smiles sadly, which you try and return. Empathy has never been your strong suit, but with Sejanus, you always try your best.

"I'm hoping to negotiate the terms of an alliance between Marcus and Lucy Gray." You explain and he nods, clearly unsure what to do. It would be harder to buy their allegiance, seeing as his family had more influence than yours- after all being the namesake of the prize you had dreamt of for years, and Marcus clearly has more of a physical advantage in the games than Lucy Gray.

"Uh, Marcus?" Sejanus asks, looking over at his tribute, who is blatantly ignoring the two of you. "What do you think? What would you like to do?" You admire his consideration, it must be draining when Marcus clearly couldn't care less.

"Lucy Gray would not be a threat to you. If you would take the care to look at either of us directly I would be able to promise you that." You say, taking a different approach that also doesn't work. You sigh, shrugging as you look over at your friend.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. Thank you for trying." He tries to smile and you just nod, trying to figure out who you'll ask next.

Then, your eyes land on Clemensia's tribute, alone. He looks strong, definitely the most obvious threat. Having him as an ally definitely wouldn't hurt. While it would be ideal to discuss this with Clem, your options and time is limited. He's standing nearby, just staring at one of the flags on the wall.

"It's Reaper, correct?" You ask to grab his attention, walking toward him. He spares you a glance over his shoulder, then huffs and turns away. "I have an offer for you, and I believe it's in your best interest to listen."

He doesn't look again, but you step in front of him so he has little to no choice.

"In the case that you win, which," You scoff, looking around at the other tributes, "looks quite likely, I will send you home with enough money in your pocket to feed you and your family for a year if you agree to at the very least not harm Lucy Gray in the games. And if you help her, the deal will be sweeter." You state, crossing your arms over your chest.

Before he has the chance to respond, not that he was going to anyway, you're being grabbed by the arm and pulled away quickly, making you stumble over your feet. "I told you to keep your distance. Not once, but twice." Coriolanus scolds you, pulling you back toward Lucy Gray, who you can see by now has been crying.

"You told me to talk to people! I'm trying to help Lucy Gray-"

"No, I told you to talk to Lysistrata." He corrects, dropping your arm and turning to face you. All he can see is Reaper threatening to kill him right in the back of the transport truck on the way to the zoo. Reaper was dangerous- how could you be so stupid? "You are making this so much more difficult than it already is."

You clench your teeth together, clutching your notepad to your chest now. "If you stopped thinking I'm so fragile you would see that I am helping. Don't worry about me- worry about Lucy Gray." You say after a moment of thought.

Coryo exhales heavily, looking around to see who was paying attention to the two of you fighting. The echo in this arena was not doing anything to help. "I didn't mean-"

He doesn't get the chance to articulate his thoughts before there's a loud bang, making you jump and rapidly search for the source of the noise as dust falls over the room. Then another explosion, then another, and by the way the light is disappearing in a circular pattern you can tell the arena is being bombed.

Your ears are ringing and you're now kneeling on the ground, the force of the blasts having knocked you down. You try and get up, try to make a run for the exit, only to feel an impact on your side, throwing you back to the ground a few feet away and you blackout from the hit of your head onto the dusty cement.

"There she is..." You hear your father's voice as you open your eyes slowly, blinking at the warm lighting above you. "Enough is enough." He says, and you feel a pain in your hand as he removes an IV from under your skin.

You look up at him, trying to shake off the confusion as you sit up. "Just a concussion. You were out for a few hours, if you experience any amnesia symptoms let me know, but I do doubt that will be the case."

You rub your eyes with shakey hands, nodding a little bit as your dad steps away to leave your room, where you are lying in your own bed. "Dad..." You mumble, voice hardly there.

He stops, looking at you and waiting for you to continue as you attempt to clear your throat. "Is Coryo okay?"

"I just got back from the hospital tending to everyone. Two students died, and five tributes. Coriolanus received extensive burns and bruising, but nothing was broken. He will be fine in a few days." He affirms.

"And Lucy Gray?"

"She is alive, the tributes who didn't escape or die were returned to the zoo. A vet is attending to them, I know nothing about it." He says, already on his way out of the door.

You sigh in slight relief, pushing yourself up fully to try and get moving again. Your whole body is stiff and sore, but you push through. You have a lot to do.

Thankful for your father's home stash of medications, luckily including morphing, you were able to gather medical supplies and get your driver to take you to the zoo. You would visit Coryo later, but you know he would want you to see to Lucy Gray, and so you shall.

As you arrive, you see no such vet in sight, the surviving tributes scattered around the cage, mostly either passed out or attempting to tend to their own injuries. This could be good for Lucy Gray, who looks mostly unharmed.

"Lucy Gray." You say, motioning for her to come over to the bars. She looks over Jessup laying against a rock next to her, whispering something to him before joining you quickly, grabbing the bars between you.

"is Coriolanus okay?" This is her first question, which you honestly did not expect.

Though you were taken aback by this, you nod. "Yes. My father said he'll be fine, I haven't been to see him yet." You explain, crouching down to dig through your bag for your makeshift medical kit of stolen supplies.

"What do you need?" You ask, searching already for the antibiotics you grabbed for Jessup.

"I'm fine." She insists, which you only confirm when you look her over. "Just a couple bruises, I live to sing another day."

You smile a little bit, relieved to see your tribute is at least in a better state than most of the others. "Good. I'm glad to hear it."

"Do you think Coriolanus will be back on his feet soon?" She asks, clearly very worried about him.

"I don't know." You answer honestly. "It's a good thing you have me."

"It is..." She thinks for a moment. "He said he would try and get me a guitar. For my interview, He wants me to sing."

"I'll make sure you have one." You nod. As much as you hope he'd be up and moving by the time the interviews come around in a couple of days, you know you have a guitar sitting in your brothers room that Coryo would likely ask you to borrow anyway. "This is for Jessup, I talked to his mentor, I think this should help." You tell her, grabbing the pot of topical antibiotics you took from your cupboard at home and handing it to her.

Lucy Gray nods, taking it and opening the steel lid, her first urge being to smell the cream inside. "Get him to apply it morning and night, be generous with it." You explain, grabbing some bandages as well to accompany it.

"You've got a full apothecary in that bag, huh?" Lucy Gray comments, straining her head to try and look inside.

"My father is a doctor." You explain, keeping it brief. "Don't share it with anyone else. Their injuries and ailments are to your benefit. Do you understand?"

Lucy Gray just nods solemnly, looking back at the tributes around her. "I understand." She answers, but she doesn't seem so sure. "You know, he pushed you clean out of the way."

"Sorry?" You ask, brows furrowed as you close your bag, having grabbed out the small paper bag of food for her.

"Coriolanus." She clarifies. "He saved your life, I reckon."

"Oh." Is all you can manage, pulling your bag back to his place over your shoulder. You clear your throat again, the remnants of dust and dirt still affecting your voice. "Well, I owe him a thank you I suppose. I'm off to check on him now."

"Tell him I send my love, won't you? I was awfully worried."

"I will." You mumble, making an effort to not be aggressive with how you shove the bag of food into her hands before walking off.

Your next stop is the hospital. The pit in your stomach tells you that despite your confirmation that Coryo would be fine, you're still worried as to what state he will be in when you arrive. Is he awake? Will he remember a thing? Did he really save you only to face worse injuries himself?

You're escorted to his bedside when you arrive, a small room in emergency seperated only by curtains. Tigris is sitting next to him stroking his hair gently, and he is seemingly sleeping- or still out cold. It's chillingly difficult to tell. You clear your throat to notify her of your presence, and she quickly stands when she sees you.

"Y/N." She greets you with a hug, gently rubbing your back. "Are you alright? You were there, weren't you?"

"I was." You nod slightly as you pull away, eyes once again trained on your friend. "My father brought me home to be treated there. Is he asleep?"

"Yes, just sleeping. He woke for a few moments about an hour ago, but I think he's just exhausted. Couldn't keep his eyes open for more than a minute..." She sighs, looking him over as well. She's worried, of course.

You nod, chewing on your lip. "Well, I can't stay for long, but I wanted to bring these to him." You say, once again reaching into your bag and pulling out a container of food containing some fruit and cookies. You hold it out to her, and her eyes widen for just a moment. "I'm sure he'll be starving when he wakes up, and the food here is atrocious." You try and ease her panic with a joke.

This works and she nods, accepting it quietly. "I know it's a lot for one person, but I figured you or your grandmother would be here with him. I brought enough to share." You add, implying that she is more than welcome to it too.

"Thank you, Y/N. Thats very kind, I didn't have the chance to grab anything on my way- I came straight from work." Tigris makes up an excuse, and you just nod.

"He asked about you, you know." She whispers, panic now completely replaced with a small smile. "When he woke up. You were his first concern."

You try to ignore the pit in your stomach growing and shifting as she speaks, a flush forming over your chest and face. "Well, apparently he saved me. Would have been an awful waste if that had been for nothing." You deflect, forming it as a joke.

"You are his best friend. You know that, right?" Tigris asks you quietly.

That's unfortunate, you want to laugh, but it would definitely come off as either rude or self deprecating, so you come up with something else. "Coryo means a great deal to me, as well."

Tigris tilts her head slightly, making it more difficult to maintain a straight face. "I must be going, but if he wakes again will you tell him I'm taking care of Lucy Gray?" You change the subject and she nods.

"Yes, of course. Thank you for coming, Y/N." She says again, and you spare Coryo another look over before leaving.

taglist: @keziahcore, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @babyspice6, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pixiepopz, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @nhlfs, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @sunghoonsbakery, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @slytherinholland

if your name has a strike-through, that means i was unable to tag you so please double check your user is correct!

fill out my form linked here to join my taglist!

#tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #coryo snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #thg fanfic #thg fanfiction #the hunger games #hunger games

610 notes · View notes

munsonsmixtapes · 5 months ago

Note

🏀❤️‍🩹🏕

sunshine!Steve x grumpy!fem!reader

cw: mention of blood

When you had signed up to be a camp counselor for the summer, you hadn’t expected Steve Harrington to be there. If you had known, you definitely wouldn’t have gone to that particular camp. There was something about him that rubbed you the wrong way. It was almost as if he seemed too happy and you didn’t like that. With him, there was always something to look forward to and maybe you just didn’t like him because you were jealous.

Despite your dislike for him, he was always nice to you when you were both in school. He’d greet you with in the cafeteria with that megawatt smile and you’d grimace, but that would never deter him. In fact, he’d just smile wider, as if the look on your face made him happy.

But it didn’t. Seeing you always so angry upset Steve. He wanted to get to the bottom of it. To know what was making you tick and how he could fix that. He had been that way for a years after everything that had happened in the Upside Down and after he had found healthy ways to cope with it, he tried his best to help others around him.

He sat next to you every day for every meal and you’d just brush him off. You didn’t need friends. You just wanted to be alone, which was ironic since you had decided to spend your summer around a bunch of kids. But Steve wasn’t going to give up. He was going to sit there every day until you finally talked to him.

The day you did finally speak, you turned to him long enough to utter the words “fuck off” before turning back to your tray. After that, Steve decided to leave you alone for a while.

He watched you from afar, smiling to himself as he saw you interact with the campers. His heart warmed seeing you help one of them out with an injury. One of the girls had fallen on her way inside the lodge for dinner and scraped her knee and you had been quick to react, taking a first aid kit from the backpack you had carried and wiped the debris out of her cut along with the blood that had run down her leg.

You were talking to her the whole time, trying to distract her from the pain and it worked like a charm. You asked her what her favorite color was and she seemed very passionate about pink, blush pink to be specific. She talked about it the entire five minutes you cleaned her up and you nodded along, agreeing that it was a great color.

Once your work was done, you helped her up from the ground and she decided that she wanted to sit next to you for dinner which you had no problem agreeing to. She seemed to be a loner just like you and you were happy to have someone who you got along with.

You sat at the table and waited for Clementine who was in line getting her food. Steve stood in front of her and helped her pile her plate high with the options that were available that night. You watched him lean down to talk to her, that stupid fucking smile making its way onto his face. You got this weird feeling in your chest as you watched him help her, the smile on both their faces as he did so.

Once they had their food, Clementine grabbed Steve by the hand and pulled him right over to the table where you were sitting. You tried your hardest to keep your smile on your face as he approached you.

The tension was high and Steve wasn't sure how to approach the situation. He wanted to sit with Clem since she had been so eager, but now that you were in the equation, he wasn't so sure. He was still trying to be respectful.

"Y/n, look who's going to sit with us!" She exclaimed as she got to your table with Steve's wrist in her hand. You bit back a laugh at how awkward the man looked. For someone who used to have the word "king" tacked onto his name, he definitely didn't seem very confident. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but there and you felt the same.

"Hey, Clem, he started to say, knowing that you didn't want him to sit with you, but you cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

"Take a seat, Stevie," you said as you pulled out the chair to the left of yours. Not only were you calling him by the nickname that he loved, but you also were letting him sit with you? What alternate dimension had he entered? Definitely not the Upside Down. This dimension was much nicer since it had you in it.

Steve hesitantly set his plate on the table and sat down next you, your chairs dangerously close to one another, but you weren't going to admit that you liked it. You could feel his eye's on you, but you ignored him. You weren't going to let him win.

You got up from your seat to throw your plate away, but there was something slippery on the floor, causing you to slip. You closed your eyes and braced yourself for the fall, but it never came. Someone had caught you. You were so grateful that you had been saved that you had to know who had caught you.

You opened your eyes to be met by the warm honey ones you had become familiar with over the summer. Steve helped you to your feet and you looked at him, his eyes boring into yours as he searched them for any sign of discomfort. You liked that he wanted to protect you and you knew you had to nip that right in the bud. You couldn’t be with him as much as you wanted to. You just couldn’t.

You pushed Steve’s hands off of you and stepped away, feeling yourself bubbling with anger as you watched his face contort into even more concern. He stepped forward and you stepped back, putting you hands out we he’d keep his distance.

“Stay away from me, Harrington,” you told him before fleeing the lodge. You could still feel the way his arms held you and felt even more angry that you kind of liked it.

What was Steve’s deal. Why was he playing at? He was still so nice to you despite your dislike for him and you didn’t like that you were slowly warming up to him. That he was starting to that’s your frozen heart bit by bit.

You went to your cabin and got ready for bed even though it was still light outside, trying not to think about him and his pretty smile or his beautiful brown eyes that made you melt when they looked into yours. You weren’t falling for him. You just weren’t. You never would have worked out anyway. You were just too different. The complete opposite of each other.

You got into your bunk and your mind drifted to Steve, the moment where he caught you replaying over and over in your head. You were starting to feel bad for the way you treated him. He was just trying to help and you blew up at him. You didn’t think you deserved his niceness.

You tossed and turned the entire night, wondering how Steve was doing and if you still had time to apologize for being so rude to him. Somehow, you just knew that he’d forgive you.

You couldn’t sleep, your guilt of being rude to Steve practically the entire summer eating you alive. You checked the clock and saw that there was only an hour before everyone would be up so you got out of your bunk and sneaked out the door to the lodge for some early breakfast.

You slowly crept inside and noticed a box of cereal out on the counter, feeling your stomach growl as you thought about having a bowl of the stuff. You went to grab the box only to find someone else in the kitchen with you. Steve. Maybe now was your chance to finally apologize.

“Hey,” he smiled and you still weren’t used to the fact that he was a morning person. How someone could be that chipper at 7:00 AM, you didn’t know.

“Hi, Steve,” you grumbled and Steve reached for the cereal and poured you a bowl before holding it out to you. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he smiled before passing you the milk and a spoon. “Do you want some orange juice?”

“Sure,” you nodded and he grabbed the orange juice from the fridge and set it on the counter before reaching for two glasses from the cabinet that was behind him. He turned his head towards you and watched you stretch, your t-shirt riding up as you did so. He was so distracted that the glass in the hand fell to the floor and shattered into many pieces.

Your head jerked in his direction and you rounded the counter, no wanted to get hurt in the glass. The cabinet managed to close on its own, whacking Steve in the forehead. He clutched it in pain and you pulled him backwards to get him to a safe zone.

You swept up the glass and got rid of it before checking on Steve to make sure that he was okay. You noticed a little blood on his forehead. You pulled him over to the sink and grabbed the first aid kit that was under it. You grabbed an alcohol wipe and wiped away the blood causing Steve to wince at the stinging sensation it brought.

“Sorry.”

“That’s alright. You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know,” you nodded. “But I want to.”

“You do?”

“I’m sorry, Steve. For everything. I was a bitch and-”

“You weren’t a bitch. You had created boundaries and I crossed them.”

“I told you to fuck off when you were just being nice. You can say that I was a bitch, alright? And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for pushing you away when all you were trying to do was be my friend.”

“It’s okay,” he put his hands over yours, his honey eyes looking into yours and you could see how serious he was. He was forgiving you and it was time for you to forgive yourself. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course you can.”

“I really like you.” Out of all of the things he could have said, that definitely wasn’t what you were expecting. His tone made it seem like he wasn’t meaning liking you as a friend.

“I really like you too,” you replied and his eyes widened at your confession. His mouth was agape and you supposed that it was shocking that his feelings were reciprocated considering your supposed hatred for him. “I feel like I have for a long time but I was afraid to let you in. Getting close to people is scary, but I’m not scared anymore.”

“Are you saying that you want to start something with me?”

“I’d really like that,” you nodded and Steve smiled, warming your heart.

“I’d really like that too,” he smiled back and you put a bandaid on his injury before wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sweet kiss.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #sunshine!Steve #grumpy!reader

169 notes · View notes