summary: jongho not-so-secretly yearns for you but you’re 🫵 in denial
wc: 4,2k
content: lowercase intended, smut w/ plot, friends w/ benefits but he falls hard, alcohol consumption, sex while intoxicated, praise + a hint of degradation, body worship, p in v: no protection (pls take necessary precautions if u Ever do this!!), manhandling, impact play, oral (reader!rec), u get cummed on, pet names used (baby, pretty, royalty, kinda), begging (jongho!rec), multiple orgasms, u get a little desperate at one point LOL
notes: this was mostly inspired from sweat by haiden henderson!! but it kinda spiraled off on its own.. “____” instead of y/n. reader is afab (sorry) but gender isn’t specified.
any + all interaction(s) are super appreciated!! <3 hopefully i can get this up on ao3 as well!! will update when i do!!
you try to steady your breathing, unconsciously matching it with the man next to you. you felt so thoroughly spent, used— yet, satisfied. despite the sheen of sweat covering your body, you tug up the blanket on your bed, snuggling happily in it. the man next to you had gotten inside it as well, immediately snuggling against your naked body.
you pout playfully, weakly turning to face him, and gently pushing his shoulders, “jonghooo! you can’t keep getting away with this!!” you giggle softly as he hugs you a little tighter.
“mmm… just five minutes…” he mumbles into you, rubbing your back a little.
you sigh, giving in. it was hard to resist him when he was just so cute and cuddly! leagues different from how you saw him day to day.
you and jongho had met late into university, meeting through mutual friends. neither of you could deny how quickly the two of you clicked with each other, or how charged the air felt after a few drinks. it was no surprise when jongho ended up in your dorm room, lightly teasing you as he fucked you until you could no longer form coherent sentences. at some point, you had lost count of the amount of bruises he left on you, and the amount of times you had cummed for each other.
the morning after the hook up, and a small discussion later— neither of you felt ready, or compelled really, to jump right into a relationship. the commitment of it all appealed to neither of you. instead, you proposed that you’d remain friends with benefits. jongho couldn’t argue with that, especially if that meant seeing you more than most people.
there were only two rules for your arrangement; no cuddling, and to have fun. other than that, anything else was fair game, even people knowing about it was on the table.
the last couple years have been filled with raunchy, and downright sinful texts, many late night escapades, and the two of you knowing the layout of each other’s home as if it was your own.
now, jongho was breaking the very first rule… you rest your head on top of his as he lays soft kisses along your collarbone.
this wasn’t the first time he’s broken the rule. it was slow, but steadily over the last year, he would stay a little longer, his friendly touches would linger, and he would look at you kind of… weirdly. almost as if you were something he couldn’t have.
which wasn’t entirely wrong. you were friends first, fuck buddies second. you enjoyed the friendship you shared— the hours you’d ramble on about a new interest, him playing league of legends and forcing you to watch, (he wanted you to feel included), and the karaoke nights you felt he was made for. it’s rare for you to jell so well with someone, and you’re afraid to lose that if you were to ever cross a line.
there were nights where he would jokingly ask if you had a partner yet, knowing that you’d still see other people from time to time. and when you’d say no, he’d look away for a moment before saying, “well, that needs to change. it’s a good thing you and i are both single..”
you push his arm playfully, laughing lightly in your tired state. he laughed, too, wearing a blush of his own. he was joking, of course, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that a part of him was being sincere.
sometimes you played with the idea, though: imagining the two of you on dates together, going to couples only events, whispering sweet nothings to each other.
you stop your daydreaming when imaginary you says i love you for the first time.
you would shake your head at yourself, a little frustrated with how easily you let yourself get carried away.
even now, you shake a mental fist to yourself, as if telling yourself to get a grip. jongho makes you feel good in more ways than one, sure. but loving him… like that…? that felt almost too much for you to bare.
what a lively night tonight was: you had only been at the local bar for a few hours, and everyone seemed hammered. the music was loud, the drinks were constant, and the people were rowdy— it definitely felt like a saturday night.
you had came with your friends to let off some steam from an especially tiring work week. it seemed like each and every one of you were put through the ringer at your respective jobs. but it was finally the weekend! and you all planned to drink and dance to forget what’s to come monday morning (work! again!). you had been using the buddy system up until now, your buddy being spurred off by a beautiful stranger some time ago. you made sure to keep an eye on them, though, even in your buzzed state.
you were waiting for your drink of choice to be made, choosing to stay close to the bar. you drew little circles onto the wooden surface as you waited, your mind seeming to forget you had your phone to occupy you.
in this moment with yourself, you reflect on the last three hours; there were a few people you had recognized that came out tonight, none that you felt especially close to. there was a group of men that had came in sometime after you that had caught your attention. all of them were stupidly attractive— there wasn’t a single one of them that had you thinking otherwise. it felt impossible to witness, but you were suddenly grounded in reality when you recognized a few of them, especially jongho.
you had seen pictures of him with his friends, but seeing them in person? it had you staring when they first came in. when you still had a buddy, you had gone up to jongho to say hello, even chatting a little bit before parting ways. you had said polite hellos to his friends, although not staying long to chat. your focus had been on jongho, who seemed to fit in perfectly with such a beautiful group of men. sometimes you would try to find him in the crowd, finding him downing shot after shot with enthusiastic vigor. he was definitely in his element.
the bartender slides you your drink with a smile before moving on to the next patron. you just barely touch the glass before you feel a hand graze the small of your back. you whip around, an insult on the tip of your tongue before sighing and relaxing fully.
“god, jongho!” you punch his shoulder lightly before grabbing your drink, “if you were anyone else, i would’ve cussed you out!!” you laugh a little, still trying to shake off the spike of adrenaline that shot through you.
jongho holds up his hands defensively, laughing lightly with you, apologizing, “i thought you would! you looked like you wanted to slap me, actually.” he’s never seen you look like that before… he makes note never to do it again.. lest he be slapped.
he stands next to you instead, almost shoulder to shoulder with you, “did your friends abandon you, too?”
you scoff a little, yet unable to hide your smile, taking a small sip from your drink. yummy!
“no, they’re just… preoccupied, is all.” you say with a wave of your hand, now looking out into the sea of strangers. jongho follows it, elbows propping him onto the bar, “it looks like they’re with my friends…”
you chuckle softly, back resting against the bar. he was right— each one seemed to have found their handsome stranger. you chance a glance at jongho: even in the dark, you could see the rosey hue his neck and face have taken. you’re a bit surprised with how sober he seemed, but he’s always been able to take his alcohol well.
“what brought you over here, though?” you ask with a slight tilt of your head.
he shrugs a little, “i wanted to dance with you.”
you feel your face flush a bit, instantly deciding to blame the alcohol. “and you didn’t think to ask me like a normal person?”
jongho laughs heartily, as if that’s the funniest thing you’ve told him, “no, i actually thought of dropping down on one knee, taking your hand and asking ‘would you do me the absolute pleasure of entertaining me this fine evening?’” he muses mockingly, his voice twinging into a posh accent. you giggle with him, rolling your eyes a little, “if you did that, i’d definitely say yes.” you joke as you sip some of your drink.
jongho’s gaze on you narrows a little, then looks away with an almost devilish smile.
he swiftly plucks your drink from you, almost spilling it. before you protest, he takes a couple gulps from it before setting it back down on the bar, taking your colder hand in his and leaning in closer. “would you do me the absolute pleasure of dancing with me, ______?” even with the music blasting, you could hear the faint rasp in his voice. his eyes were eager, pupils blown wide. you almost crumple under his gaze— his intensity sending a shiver down your spine. you nod almost too fast, forgetting you had a drink in the first place.
jongho’s smile inches wider, now pulling you towards the dance floor.
once on the dance floor, a sensual, but upbeat song starts to play, instantly making you sway your hips to the music. you feel entranced into the beat as jongho stands across from you, his hand barely grazing your waist. your body moves on its own— sensually dragging your hands across your body with a newfound confidence. your eyes lock on jongho’s as he dances with you, matching your energy.
you knew he had moves, but it seemed like he was enticing you with how his body moved, inviting you to get closer to him…
by the end of the song, you were on each other— your back pressed to his chest as he stood behind you, hands running along your sides and the front of your legs with your hands settling on top of his forearms. you felt sexy— desirable with jongho. he was the only one who could bring this side out of you so easily. the alcohol definitely helped, though.
your dirty dancing continues for a few more songs before you finally grip the collar of jongho’s shirt, crashing your lips with his. you pull away, letting his bottom lip go from your teeth. your lips graze his ear when you lean in, rasping softly, “let’s go and take care of this,” you grind your thigh against his hard on, earning a low, surprised groan from him, “my place or yours?”
“mine.” he mutters back with a giddy grin you couldn’t quite see. you link your hand with his as he takes you off the dance floor, hooking your arm in his once you’re out the door of the bar.
his bedroom door slams open, the tangled mess of you two landing harshly on the bed with a bounce. jongho detaches from you to quickly shut the door while you readjust yourself on the bed. you were about to take off your outer layer of clothing until you were stopped, strong hands on your wrists.
“let me do it.” he says, but it comes out as a command. your hands settle on the bed as jongho starts peeling off your clothing. he was slow, and deliberate with each article, running his hands along newly revealed skin as if it’s a blessing that he’s seeing it.
you snort a little at his silent praise, “you’ve seen me hundreds of times jjong.. what’s so different now?”
he looks up at you with an unreadable expression. he almost looked.. serious.
“am i not allowed to appreciate your body?” answering a question with a question.. classic. his hand runs over a bruise he had left from a previous session, kissing it, “every part of you deserves to be worshipped. otherwise i shouldn’t be here.”
you blush, feeling the sincerity of his actions and words. your gut feeling was telling you that today would be different than the other times you two had sex.
once he had you down to your undergarments, he pauses, admiring your physique. you squirm, somewhat restless. jongho notices, humming out a chuckle as he gets off the bed to get on his knees, grabbing you by the hips and making you yelp a bit when he pulls you to the edge of the bed. “alright, alright, i’ll stop admiring your perfect self and just go straight into fucking you.”
your eyebrows furrow in confusion, his demeanor change throwing you for a loop. when he pulls down your underwear, you wonder what exactly has gotten into him. usually, he was meaner, and rougher with you. he’d call you all sorts of names and make you beg for his dick. even with the cold air causing you to shiver, you wonder what else jongho was hiding.
jongho’s tongue darts out, licking his lips at the sight of you. he squeezes your thighs before spreading them open to fit comfortably in between them. he hikes one over his shoulder as he spreads your lips open. he couldn’t help the groan that left him, sounding as if he was dying of thirst.
“goddamn, i missed your pussy.”
your thighs twitch, wanting to close but can’t. “you just saw it a few days ago.” you quip instead.
with his thumb, he swipes a stripe up your slit, “don’t care. i would eat it every day if you’d let me.”
your teeth catches your bottom lip as he seeps his thumb into your folds, making wide circles around your clit. you finally lay down, your hands tangling into his hair as his circles become more precise.
he knew just how to get you going— you moan softly, unintentionally bringing jongho’s head a little more forward towards your cunt. he lets out a warm laugh before teasing your entrance with his middle finger.
“you’re already so wet for me, ______. i could slip into you so easily.” was he talking about his fingers or dick..?
“then why don’t you?” you look down at him, trying to act nonchalant, but clearly trying to steady your breathing.
jongho smiles that gummy smile you’ve come to adore, although this one felt menacing.
“i like to take my time, baby.” the circles on your clit become faster, your back starting to arch off the bed. “but it’s also fun to watch you squirm.” he adds before sliding two of his thick fingers inside you, the base of his fingers hitting against you with a small bump.
“fuck— finally!” you’re almost relieved with the somewhat sudden change of pace. he fucked you with a strength you were familiar with, but never got tired of. you cry out and moan out his name as you grew closer to your climax, your legs starting to squeeze around him.
jongho leans in and flicks his tongue over your clit, giving it quick kitten licks as he drove his finger into you. it didn’t take much longer for you to unravel, feeling that familiar snap has you cum on his fingers. jongho laps up what he could, but continues to thrust his fingers into you.
you reach down, trying to push him away with a soft whimper, “that’s— it’s too much!”
unfortunately for you, he’s sturdy, and has no plans of stopping. in fact, he seems to be going harder, sucking on your swollen bud to entice another orgasm out of you.
the grip you had on his hair was sure to give him a headache later, gripping it as if it was a life line. he groans and grunts against your pussy, the vibrations from it bringing you closer and closer to your second orgasm.
“c’mon, cum. i know my pretty baby wants to.” jongho briefly pops up to say before stooping back down, curling and pounding his fingers with a ferocity you hadn’t felt for a while. his pet names didn’t go unnoticed, either. it made your heart swell— it felt like you belonged to him, in someway. his kind praises almost felt better than his degrading ones.
almost.
“jongho, i’m gonna—!” you see stars as yet another orgasm is ripped from you so quickly. they dance in front of your eyes for a bit before fading away.
jongho takes the opportunity to finally pull out his fingers, licking his very well coated fingers. he unbuckles and unbuttons his pants, kicking them off with his boxers as he goes over to his night stand.
“no..” you call out weakly, shakily propping yourself up on your elbows.
he looks at you, almost concerned, “no?”
“it’s fine..” you mumble. it wasn’t like you to go without a condom, but tonight, you felt a little adventurous. you crawl over to him and tug at the hem of his shirt, “you forgot something…”
his worried look fades, returning to a more lighthearted one, “i was going to take it off,” he slips onto the bed, straddling your waist, “but someone stopped me.”
“i did not,” you huff up at him, the buzz of the alcohol and overall tiredness creeping into you, “i’m actually reminding you to take it off.”
jongho scoffs a little with a chuckle, “shut up and flip on your stomach.”
you let him shuffle down some before you flip over, ass up. jongho grins to himself— you weren’t even his, yet he’s trained you so well.
he gives your ass a resounding smack, a cry comes from you that immediately melts into a moan. this was the jongho you were used to seeing. he firmly grabs both cheeks, slapping the other with just as much force as the first. you couldn’t help the soft whimper that escapes you, now gripping at the bed sheets.
jongho smooths his hands over your ass, squeezing a few times before kissing its curve. he peppers kisses down your back and at the base of your neck, squeezing your ass still. he nips at your ear before muttering into it, “do you like it when i’m nice to you? when i treat you like royalty?”
his hand finds your folds once again, gripping your hip with the other, “or should i just use you as my cock sleeve? ‘nd make you beg for my cock?”
you shiver under him, despite the immense warmth you also feel. both sides of jongho were doing numbers on you. plus, it didn’t help that you were still buzzed, it being hard to make a sound decision. as your mind scrambles for an answer, jongho bites at the base of your neck, making you moan softly.
“..both,” you finally say, “i like both sides of you.”
he licks over the bite with a soft chuckle, “mm, my, aren’t you a greedy little thing.” he sits up, grabbing his dick and rubbing its tip along your slit, “if i didn’t know any better,” he presses the tip inside you, without warning, “i would think that you wanted all of me..”
you bite your lip, trying to suppress some of the moan that bubbled out of you. it felt like it took forever, but you were finally getting what you so desperately wanted.
“please.. jongho.” you beg, almost pathetically. “i need you— more of you.”
he lets out a soft groan, feeling you tighten around what little was in you. all he really wanted to do was pound into you until you couldn’t speak anymore— where the only thoughts you had were of him and how good you were making him feel. and, secretly, that you and him were meant to be together.
he grabs one of your cheeks as he pumps his tip in and out of you. “the ______ i know can beg a hell of a lot better than that.” he squeezes the cheek he’s holding, “beg like you mean it, ______.”
you couldn’t help but groan frustratedly, “god— jongho, you’re right there!!” you try and shimmy your hips down on him, but receive a smack in reply, making you wince. you feel tears pricking your eyes, your selfish need to be fucked senseless was overwhelming.
“please, please, jjong. i need your cock— your dick— you, i need you so, so bad! i’ve been so good, fuck—” you feel a sharp pain shoot through you before it fades into pleasure, nearly lurching forward into jongho’s headboard.
he bottomed out immediately, face absolutely flushed, but wore a proud smirk. there was no way anyone else was making you feel this good.
he lets out a satisfied sigh as you clench around him, adjusting to him. without a condom, he could feel how deliciously you kept him inside you, and the slickness of your walls.
jongho pounds into you at an ungodly pace, messily, but with power you felt you haven’t experienced in a while. you cling helplessly to the bedding as he uses you, consistently brushing up against your g-spot. your lewd sounds mixed with his, creating a synchronized harmony that neither of you had anticipated.
you force yourself on your elbows, looking over your shoulder— the sight of him has you clenching around him impossibly more: his typically well kept hair was jostled—messy beyond recognition, his skin glistening in a thin sheet of sweat, his right hand adorned with a watch grips your hip, while the other stays on your ass. you feel yourself arch your back more, your orgasm already building up to its peak.
before you could even announce that you were coming, jongho pulls out and flips you on your back. grabbing the back of your knees, he picks them up, and bends you into a mating press.
“hold them.”
you follow his command instantly, holding your legs slightly wider as well.
he settles his arms in between you, them being at both sides of your torso, then slips into you once again with practiced ease. your eyes roll back from the depth, at how delicious it was. his hips slammed into yours with such intensity that you were almost scared that he’d snap his bed in two. or, more importantly, you.
your grip on your legs tighten, moaning out jongho’s nickname loud enough for his neighbors to hear. he leans down, kissing your collarbone before going ‘fuck it’ and crashing his lips into yours. the two of you making out was messy and uncoordinated, but passionate without a doubt. it spurs him to go impossibly faster, exploring your mouth as he reaches down, pressing hurried circles on your clit.
this was so much— you almost can’t take it.
“jjong, i—“
“do it.” his voice sounding hoarse. “cum for me, baby.”
on cue, you cum, nearly screaming his name. jongho hastily pulls out, your name on his tongue as he cums all over your chest and stomach.
you go limp, and jongho wants to join you. instead, he rolls off of you, grabbing his boxers, “i’ll be right back, ______.” he reassures you with a smile before leaving the room.
you lay there, exhausted and somewhat dizzy. you weren’t sure why you didn’t want to use a condom, or why jongho was acting different, but you were glad that it happened.
jongho comes back a few minutes later, giggling softly at you.
“you look like a starfish..”
you turn your head to look at him, eyes narrowing but held no malice, “yeah, because someone shot their load on my chest! i didn’t want any of it to get on the bed.” you had tried to swipe up any droplets while he was away.
his smile softens, turning into an appreciative one, “how considerate of you..”
you huff, returning your gaze to the ceiling, “remind me never to be nice to you ever again.”
jongho pouts, coming over to you with water, snacks, and a warm, but damp hand towel in hand, “but, you were so nice for me earlier!”
you blush a bit, averting his gaze, “you shoulda thought about that before you called me a fish..”
he chuckles warmly, setting the snacks and water on the nightstand, starting to wipe you down with the towel, “you would be the best, most attractive starfish there ever was.”
you roll your eyes, pushing jongho’s shoulder playfully, “you play too much.”
“your reactions make it worth it.” he smiles, almost proudly to himself. you couldn’t help but scoff, grabbing the water from the nightstand.
it didn’t take long for the two of you to clean up and get cozied up into each other. you ate and drank all the snacks jongho brought, now cuddling, much to your dismay. jongho was persuasive, as always.
you got to be little spoon today, curling yourself up impossibly close to him. his arms wrapped around you: one wrapped around your waist, and the other under your head. he nuzzles himself into the back of your neck, sighing softly to himself.
“you okay?” you ask gently, the exhaustion finally settling in.
“yeah..” he mumbles into you, pressing a light kiss on the back of your neck
a moment or two passes by before he speaks up again, “hey, ______?”
“yeah, jjong?”
another moment passes before he whispers, “i love you.”
your eyes shoot open, sitting up and turning over to see a passed out jongho.
please do not attempt to edit, repost, copy, or feed my work (in)to ai. translating can be negotiated, permission is needed. again, will possibly repost to ao3 once i get the invite! if there’s a way to make my work more accessible, lmk!
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warnings and content: smut (minors DNI!!!!), kinda sub maki x dom ?? afab black reader (no pronouns or fem terms used, just anatomy described), established relationship, quickie, p in v, unprotected sex (don't lol), hand job (m receiving), fingering (r receiving), quick nipple play, creampie, fluff if you squint, pwp
word count: 1.2k
kinda proof read... not really tho...
꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡ fic below the cut♡˖꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱
when you agreed to showering with maki you did so because you figured it would save you both time, as you had had a slow start to the day and had brunch plans with nicho and euijoo in an hour. It starts off very domestic and tame really, just chatting softly and making each other laugh while getting clean, until he starts to wash his hair and you offer to do it for him. the second your hands are in his hair, lathering the soap from the root to the tip, his eyes fall from yours to your lips and you catch him licking his own and something in the air changes. you tug his hair a little and a sigh falls out of his lips and you smile. his hands find your waist and bring you closer to him, before going to entwine his fingers at the small of your back. your fingers continue to lather the shampoo through his hair but slow to a stop when he dips his head to bring your lips together in an open mouthed kiss. you sigh into each other's mouths and your hands drop to his neck while his drop to your ass and lightly squeeze, eliciting a soft gasp from you and making maki smile against your lips when he hears it.
“youre so beautiful, baby.” he sighs against your skin moving his kisses from your lips to run his tongue along your jaw and continue to kiss down your neck to your chest.
“maki… we don't have time for thi- ahhh” you gasp as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the bud and sucking before letting go with a light pop and smiling at you. “maki…”
“I know, I know but god look at you.” he counters, bringing his hand to your face and up to twirl your coily hair around his finger, marveling at it stretching and springing back to you when he lets go and meets your eyes again. “i just… I need you.” he admits letting his fingers brush your cheek before settling on your waist again.
you can't help but bite your lip as you stare back at him, the warm slightly steaming water of the shower running through his hair down his broad shoulders and across his beautifully toned chest and stomach. you follow the water trail with your eyes and watch it run over his already half hard cock to the shower floor and you feel your face get warm at the sight of it alone. your fingers itch to wrap around it till hes cumming over and over and crying your name but time. time is of the essence… maybe just one…
“you have me, maki.” you whisper back and his mouth curls into a smile again before meeting your lips. you waste no time running your hands down his chest, brushing and quickly tweaking his nipples the way you know makes him gasp before finally wrapping one hand around his cock and the other gripping his waist. he stops your kiss to rest his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut and mouth parted slightly and gasping as he ever so slightly rolls his hips into your hand.
“mmm fuck baby yeah… you make me so- oh fuck…” he's already putty in your hands, his moans coming out in soft whines and pants making your pussy throb in need.
as if he could sense it, he slides one hand up your body to knead and squeeze one of your breasts while the other slides across your lower stomach and between your legs.
“fuck you're so wet.” he sighs before bring his lips to yours again just as he slides his index finger inside you, curling it as he slowly thrusts in and out and applies a little pressure to your clit with his thumb.
“maki…” you moan as he adds another finger, picking up the pace, and you follow suit with your strokes and apply a little more pressure. “more.” you gasp as he kisses and licks across your jaw again. he pulls his face away to meet your eyes, fingers still thrusting in and out of you.
“you sure? I don't- I mean id have to-”
“fuck me maki, please.” you interrupt him and he frankly doesn't need to be told twice. he leans back in to kiss you, both of your hands leaving each other as he backs you against the wall of the shower and lifts your legs up and around his waist as he sinks you down onto him. you both moan at the stretch and he holds you against him for a moment before he slowly starts to move.
“fuuuck… baby oh- fuck oh my god” he starts blabbering into your neck, your head tilted back to rest against the shower wall as your moans escape your lips growing louder as he picks up the pace. “baby I'm close fuck- please… tell me when to cum please.” he begs but you decide to ignore him. test his resolve. “babyyy” he whines into a soft sob, knowing exactly what you're doing and panicking that he is won't be able to hold on much longer.
“not yet.” you manage to gasp before grabbing his head from the nape of his neck to bring him into a deep kiss, and he moans into your mouth. the kiss steadily becomes messier as he gets closer and closer to cumming before he breaks it to beg again.
“baby I'm gonna cum where- fuck oh god- where-”
“inside, maki. please.”
“oh god yes okay-” he gasps into another whiny moan as his hips stutter in their steady rhythm and slow as he cums hard inside of you. despite his arms starting to shake, and his legs feeling like jelly, he knows you haven't cum yet and he's not about to stop this until you do. he starts to pick up the speed of his thrusts again, rolling his hips deeper and matching your pace again, making eye contact with you as you grip his shoulder with one hand and snake your other between the two of you to furiously rub at your clit. maki’s moans are higher pitched and more sobs than anything as his eyes start to well up from overstimulation, but his grip tightens on your thighs, holding you up and continuing his fast pace.
“baby i- im close again.” he gasps, ears turning pink with embarrassment as his eyes beg you to forgive him.
“m-me too, angel, fuck- i- oh god me too.” you assure him applying more pressure to your clit and digging your nails into his shoulder. it's not long before the tension building in both of your stomachs breaks and you cum around him, hard, and he sobs out a moan as he fills you with his own again. you ride out your highs before coming to a stop finally and he gently lets your feet find the ground again, before collapsing forward into your arms again and burying his face in your neck.
“thank you.” he whispers before kissing your neck softly.
“you're welcome.” you giggle, running a soothing hand through his hair and feeling your heart beats speed against one another. you stay like that for a moment longer before finishing up your showers and finally turning off the water.
HI!!! I hope your healthy and happy :) your fics make me happy and I check to see if you've updated all the time 💗 but I got this stupid idea for a fluff drabble were a fem reader x Sanji is just the biggest hugger ever. Literally anything =hug Hes made a really hard dish? Hug. something made him really sad? Comforting Hug. Something really cool happened? Jump up and down hug. She just LOVES hugs but if he catches on and gives her one back? She will literally die and melt into the floorboards. Nah, she'll probably just turn into a blushing mess lmao
It makes me happy that my fics make you happy, thank you for requesting and I'm sorry this took so long!U ´꓃ ` U (≧(ｴ)≦ )
Sanji with an affectionate reader🌱🌱🌱
Pairing: Sanji x f!reader
Word count: 1.2k
Tw: Spoilers for Skypiea arc
Notes: I've had this 90% finished in my drafts FOREVER, but couldn't think of a way to finish it until just now; This is not proofread cuz it's 3 in the morning and I wanted to post this instead of waiting any longer. Sorry this theme is so wonky🌱🌱🌱
The first time Sanji ever received a hug from you was the day Luffy brought down Arlong Park. You had been by his side during the lasts of Luffy's fight and the moment Luffy broke out of the rubble and it sunk in to everyone that he'd won, you threw your arms around his neck. You both were battered, bruised,and floating in the water, but you wrapped your arms around him and cheered loudly along with the townspeople and usopp. Sanji had been in too much of a happy(bleeding) daze back then to really compute anything else that had happened after that.
The second time you hugged Sanji was only a few days later and caught him completely off guard. He pretty much thought that the first time was a fluke, that you hugged him in the heat of the moment, so he wasn't expecting you to embrace him again. He was just setting down everyone's plates for breakfast while the crew was shuffling into the kitchen,when you walked in.
“Good Morning Sanji.” You greet him softly, in the middle of stifling a yawn, and surprise him by holding your arms open. Sanji just pauses and for a moment he wonders if you're even talking to him, even though you said his name, until you walk over and wrap your arms around his lean torso. It's like the entire kitchen stops and stares, Nami, Zoro, and Usopp not believing what they're seeing. That someone of the female gender actually,willingly wanted to hug Sanji. Sanji himself is standing there like a statue,his principle of not wasting food being the only thing keeping him from dropping the plate he's holding. Your warm body only presses against his chest for a second before you're pulling away and happily taking a seat in front of your plate, ready to start breakfast. Again, Sanji can hardly recall the rest of that meal, not even the masterfully cooked food he personally made. From then on whenever Sanji received a hug from you, he just about melted into a pile of goop.
After that, Sanji finds out that you hug not just him but everyone rather casually. Even if they're just side hugs, you can be found wrapping your arms around anyone that you deem needs you to. He's seen you console Usopp this way, comfort Vivi, and wrap even the newest member, Chopper, into a welcoming cuddle. He guesses you're just an affectionate person and proceeds to indulge in your hugs with all the heart eyes and goofy declarations of love you can think of, skillfully ignoring any disappointment he had felt in that moment of realization. Still, despite his antics and how happy he seems, he never initiates a hug first. He never even really returns them either actually. He usually just freezes up in a lovestruck state, just happy that he's being touched by a woman at all. Too happy to notice that you hug him just a little more than everyone else.
It isn't until after the battle in Skypiea that Sanji finally notices that you've got a soft spot for him. He was unconscious for a long while after taking a direct bolt of lighting from Enryu when protecting Usopp, so he has no recollection of when you first saw him. All he knows is that you're holding his charred body tight against you when he wakes up, your gaze on the way Luffy was trying to climb the beanstalk leading to the Golden ship. It wasn't until he grunted quietly that you cut your eyes towards him. He didn't even have time to ask what was going on before you hugged him into your neck, accidentally squeezing an injured person harder than you should but Sanji didn't care. You could've been crying so hard and holding him like that because you thought of him the same way as everyone else,sure, but Sanji has a harder time convincing himself of that this time.
Sanji is a little more appreciative of your hugs now, proceeding a little calmer when your arms wrap around his torso while he's cooking, or when the crew is having a drink. It was no longer just receiving a hug from a pretty woman, but now being shown affection by someone he cared deeply about, not necessarily his friend, but someone important to him nonetheless. Maybe that's why he finally decided to reciprocate that affection.
“Ugh it's so hot! Someone please shave all my fur off!” Chopper complains as a few of you walk through a desert city in search of Sanji, Zoro, and Robin. As per usual, you'd all gotten spilt up while exploring, Luffy started a problem, and now you all had to find the rest of your crew so you could hightail it out of here. You're currently checking near the docks with Chopper. You pout sympathetically at your furry crew mate.
“Don't worry Chopper, we'll find them soon.” You attempt to console him, right at you hear a smooth voice call your name. Both you and Chopper turn your heads and find Robin jogging down the pier.
“Y/n! Chopper!” She calls out with a wave of her arm. You wave back while chopper cheers gleefully and runs over to her. You're walking over to her too when you finally notice the two men behind her. Sanji and Zoro are busy butting heads and you don't have to be a lip reader to know it's because Zoro got them lost.
“Sanji!” You call out happily, excited to see him after these long hours. Sanji stops bickering immediately at the sound of your voice before leaving Zoro to meet up with you. You jog to meet him halfway before stopping once you both get close enough.
“It's good we found you! C'mon we've gotta get out of here-!” You say with a smile before your face is suddenly cradled into the crook of a shoulder.
“God, I'm glad you're alright! I heard from a local that there was a fight near where your group had head off to.” Sanji sighs in relief with an arm wrapped around your shoulders and a hand cradling your head against him. You just squeak with round eyes, for the first time not knowing how to respond to a hug.
“I-I’m alright!” You assure him with your heart thumping so hard in your chest, there's no way Sanji doesn't feel it against his own. Sanji lets you go with a warm hand on your head.
“Good. Hey mosshead! It's time to go!” He says with a cute smile before turning to wrangle over Zoro. You just stand there wide-eyed before placing your hand over your beating heart. You're still processing what just happened when Robin clears her throat beside you. You look over and she's standing with a pleased look on her face, chopper beside her and covering his mouth with a giggle.
“W-what?” You ask, already knowing why they're smiling like that. Robin just sighs happily with a hand on her cheek.
“Although one can't see the blood that's undoubtedly rushing to your cheeks, the look on your face says it all-.” She sighs eloquently before you cut her off with a whine. Sanji had gotten you good.
A/n: Again I'm so sorry for waiting so long to finish this, I overthink my writing so much that it takes months and months and months to finish anything, even something I have lots of ideas for. Thank you for requesting, hope this was satisfactory! Thanks for reading!🌱🌱🌱
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.
soft dom taki soft dom taki soft dom taki SOFT DOM TAKI SAVE ME SOFT DOM TAKI-
warnings: oral (r receiving), no specific race or gender for reader but AFAB, implied unprotected sex, cum eating
smut below the cut, minors DNI
but in the sense that it starts off all loving and sweet and a little slow like he's savoring you. every kiss like honey every whisper of your name like a prayer. the foreplay is just so... sweet. even when he goes down on you. leaving trails of kisses over your chest and stomach. situating himself between your legs and kissing across your inner thighs while looking up at you. his big round eyes full of adoration but there's a hunger behind them... a knee melting darkness that woulda had you crumbling to the floor on sight where you not already laid bare for him. he eats you out and takes his time with it. adding a finger or two and watching your reactions with that warm but lustful gaze. he loves when you cum in his mouth, cleaning you off of his fingers with a smile telling you how incredible you taste. kissing back up to your lips to have you taste for yourself, his hand tangled in your hair and making out with you a bit, just happy to be in your arms and have you in his again.
he's so gentle with you but then...... something flips in his mind the second he's inside you. the feeling of you squirming and gasping as you take all of him in. of you squeezing his cock so perfectly makes the soft in soft dom become softISH. suddenly his kisses are devouring. suddenly he's gripping you everywhere he can, hard enough to leave nail marks, pulling you closer so there's not even a whisper of space between you. face next to yours grunting and moaning with every thrust about how fucking good you feel. how perfect you are. how lucky he is to get to have you like this. how no one has or ever will make him feel as good as you. like you were made to be loved by him. he's sloppy with his kisses he's biting and licking and panting into your skin. turning and bending you in all sorts of positions just to get closer. deeper. more of you. cause no amount is ever enough. he's obsessed with every inch of your skin every sound you make every clench of your pussy around him and the moment you moan his name. the moment you tell him you're close. he cums. he loves how it feels to continue to fuck you through it. he loves watching your mouth fall open with a curse as you come undone for him. he loves holding you impossibly closer, still slowly thrusting in and out of you because he's not done actually. he needs more of you. he can literally never ever ever ever get enough of you. and you'll both cum like that multiple times in each others arms until you've reached the point of exhaustion. and he'll want to lay like that, entangled in each other's arms, maybe even his dick still inside you, just... close and so very well loved until you're both ready to get up and clean up.
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request: I have a LH44 request! So, I’m a BCBA, I work with children who have autism and my dream is have my own clinic one day. I have a request where maybe Lewis is with a BCBA, who has her own practice, maybe with a back story of how they met at a charity event for her grand opening? Maybe he decided to venture out his charitable contributions and became interested in what she does? Romance, all the feels :)
word count: 2.3k
warnings: none
Lewis had more money than he knew what to do with.
He'd still accept it graciously, but he couldn't help but feel that he could be doing more with the funds he'd earned. He always felt as if he could offer his many resources to many different causes.
He had started mission 44, and still, he felt like he wasn't doing enough.
Lewis had always been driven by a deep desire to make a meaningful impact in the world. After years of dedication to his passion projects, he felt it was time to expand the reach of Mission 44, his organization dedicated to empowering underserved communities. He wanted to invest in something truly transformative, and it was a conversation with an old friend that set him on the right path.
One evening, over a cup of coffee, his friend Michael shared a heartfelt story about his autistic son, Josiah. "There's this incredible clinic," Michael said, his eyes lighting up. "It's run by Y/N, a BCBA. Her work with autistic children has been nothing short of miraculous for us. Jojo has made so much progress thanks to her."
Intrigued, Lewis asked for more details. Michael explained how Y/N's clinic provided personalized therapy and support, creating a nurturing environment where children like Josiah could thrive. It was a place of hope and transformation, and it resonated deeply with Lewis's vision for Mission 44.
Determined to learn more, Lewis arranged a visit to the clinic. When he arrived, he was immediately struck by the warm and welcoming atmosphere. The walls were adorned with colorful artwork created by the children, and the air was filled with laughter and a sense of purpose.
Sadly, you weren't there when he arrived. Lewis really wanted to connect with you. But you were certain to make sure he was taken care of in your absence.
As Lewis toured the facility, he saw firsthand the incredible progress the children were making. Therapists and staff members were deeply engaged, using innovative techniques to support the children's development. It was clear that this was more than just a clinic—it was a community of care and compassion.
Inspired by what he had seen, Lewis knew he had found the perfect partner for Mission 44. He decided to invest in your clinic, providing the resources needed to expand your reach and impact. Together, you two envisioned opening new branches in underserved areas, ensuring that more children and families could benefit from the transformative care you and your team provided.
With this partnership, Mission 44 took a significant step forward, amplifying its mission to empower and uplift. Lewis was filled with a sense of purpose and fulfillment, knowing that your combined efforts would create a brighter future for countless children and families.
And so, with a shared vision and unwavering dedication, Lewis and you embarked on a journey to bring hope, healing, and empowerment to the world, one child at a time.
And this was all without ever meeting each other.
You were a busy woman, and when you did have free time, it was spent with your kids. Your kids being the children you work with of course. So tonight was meant to be special. An ordeal that certainly meant a lot to you.
You would be meeting Sir Lewis Hamilton for the very first time in person. The two of you had communicated over the phone and through emails, but you had not had the chance to sit with him face-to-face, until tonight.
It'd been a year since this endeavor started, and already, the funding Lewis provided had shown its hand and made your mission all the more achievable.
Tonight, you were having a gala.
You were against the idea initially, telling your assistant to reconvene with Lewis' team. You wanted funds to help autistic children, you wanted an event that reflected that.
But Lewis came up with a good point, you wanted to ask a bunch of rich people to invest in you and your goals, to do that, you had to speak to them in a language that they understood, money.
So here you were, a beautiful gown adorning your frame, that was much too elegant and flashy than what you were used to.
You were standing off to the side, watching as the team organized the smaller details. Your hands are placed in front of you, fingers fidgeting with the others as you will your nerves away.
This was not your scene. You weren't used to the flashy life nor did you care for it, so the fact that you would be surrounded by millionaires and a select few billionaires and people with status simply because of your business ties with such a prominent figure in the world of money and fame, well it made you nervous.
Lewis arrived at the clinic a few minutes early, feeling a mix of anticipation and curiosity. He had seen pictures of you online and read about your remarkable work, but nothing could have prepared him for the moment he saw you in person.
From across the hallway, he saw you before you noticed him. The pictures did you no justice. You were more beautiful than any photograph could capture. Your presence was radiant, your smile warm and genuine. Lewis couldn't help but be captivated by your grace and the effortless way you carried herself. He was about to approach you when the door to your left swung open.
In poured a group of children, dressed in colorful gowns and suits, their faces beaming with excitement. Lewis watched as your eyes widened with delight and your lips spread into a grin wider than the universe. The children, your clients, rushed to surround you, their joy palpable. Some stayed a little further back, shy but eager to be close to you.
Lewis stood back, observing the scene. He saw the way you interacted with each child, your demeanor filled with kindness and understanding. You bent down to their level, speaking softly to those who needed it, and laughed with those who were more exuberant. You were careful and considerate, aware of each child's unique needs and sensitivities due to their autism.
One little girl tugged at your sleeve, and you responded with a gentle touch and a few whispered words that brought a smile to the girl's face. A boy who had been standing off to the side finally mustered the courage to step forward, and you greeted him with the same warmth and attention, making him feel just as special as the rest.
Lewis was moved by the sight. It wasn't just your beauty that struck him now, but the depth of your compassion and the genuine love you had for these children. He realized that your work was more than a profession; it was a calling, a true testament to your character.
As the children slowly dispersed, you stood up and finally noticed Lewis. Your eyes met, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. You approached him with that same radiant smile, extending your hand in greeting.
"Hi, you must be Lewis," you said, your voice as warm as your smile.
Lewis took your hand, feeling a spark of connection. "Yes, that's me. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Y/N. Your work here is incredible."
Your eyes twinkled with gratitude. "Thank you, Lewis. I'm glad you're here. This wouldn't have been possible without your support. Can I show you what we have so far?"
Lewis accepts, walking with you as you point out the many attractions for your guest. As you walk, you speak more to Lewis about your work, your passion for your work evident in your every word. You explained how you had started the clinic with the goal of providing comprehensive, individualized care for autistic children. "Each child is unique," you said, "and we tailor our approach to meet their specific needs. It's about helping them reach their full potential. Most of all, showing them unconditional love and acceptance."
"I think you're doing an amazing job." Lewis compliments, "Can I ask, why autistic children? What made this your dream?"
You let out a chuckle, "You ever read those books about the pig, Mercy Watson? She goes crazy over buttered toast?"
Lewis laughs and shakes his head, "Can't say I have."
"Well, in these books, there's a talking pig who does a lot of crazy stuff really for buttery toast. I used to read these books to my brother. He was obsessed with them. I used to just read them to him over and over every night, thinking, you know, of course, a story about a pig causing absolute destruction for food would entertain a boy." As you talk, you're waving your hands around, describing the elaborate storyline of the children's book.
"Anyways, my brother was autistic, high functioning, but you know there were still things that made him different than others, ways that he couldn't fit in no matter what, and I grew to realize okay, this book has to be his hyper fixation, like he doodled Mercy Watson everywhere. Or like cute little toast, and for a while, all he ate was toast for weeks." You chuckle, and Lewis laughs with you.
"Then one day, I'm a freshman in high school, and my brother has started his first day of middle school, and he just, it was bad for him, so bad. And I wanted to help, so I tried to read the books for him and he just got angry and said it wasn't true, and I was left trying to figure out what he meant. It bothered me for so long, I spent weeks rereading those books, you hear me, weeks."
You look distressed as you recant the memory and Lewis can only imagine how frantic you were when it actually happened.
"And then it just clicked for me. The buttery toast isn't fucking toast. The damn toast is a feeling. Warm, soft, and buttery. Mercy Watson is a pig. She feels buttery with her family and warm, cozy, and accepted. It's a feeling she's chasing. And maybe I'm wrong, but to him, the book highlighted his need to be accepted, to feel community. My brother deserved to be loved for who he was, unconditionally."
"Is that why you have so many piglet paintings in your clinic?"
You let out a laugh that starts from a snort. "Yeah. My little piggies."
"You've got a beautiful heart, you know that?"
"Thank you." You drop your head as if to hide your shyness from the man.
As they walked through the clinic, Lewis couldn't shake the feeling that this was the beginning of something extraordinary.
"You should let me take you out to dinner, discuss more on how to get the toast to all of the little piglets in the world, and maybe discuss another dinner, too?"
"I'd love that."
Three years had passed since that charity gala for your clinic, the night you first met Lewis. You remember how he approached you with a warm smile, expressing his admiration for your work. He had insisted on taking you out for dinner, and that evening turned into many more, each one deepening the connection between you.
Now, you stand in the nursery, a gentle smile on your lips as you admire the freshly painted walls. Small, cute little piglets dance across the pale yellow background, a whimsical design that Lewis insisted on because he remembered how you loved piggies, a love sparked by your brother's fondness for the book that changed your outlook on life.
The room is filled with the promise of new life, a testament to the love that has blossomed between you.
You gently place a hand on your growing belly, feeling the fluttering movements of your baby. The thought of becoming parents fills you with a mixture of excitement and wonder. Lewis walks into the room, his eyes lighting up as they meet yours. He crosses the room in a few strides and places a tender kiss on your forehead, his hand joining yours on your belly.
"You’re going to be the best mom," he says, his voice filled with admiration. "I can’t wait to meet our little one."
Lewis has always seen you as the sweetest soul in the world. Your compassion, kindness, and unwavering dedication to your work and family have captured his heart completely. He often tells you that being with you feels like coming home—warm, soft, and buttery, just like toast. It's the only feeling you've ever had when it comes to Lewis: a deep, comforting love that fills every corner of your life.
Your relationship with Lewis is a harmonious blend of mutual admiration and profound affection. He has not only embraced you but also formed a close bond with your brother. Lewis took the time to understand your brother’s world, it was a connection that brought you immense joy and deepened your love for Lewis.
As you and Lewis stand in the nursery, imagining the future with your child, you feel a profound sense of contentment. Engaged and set to be married in a year, your journey together has been nothing short of extraordinary.
"I love you," you whisper to Lewis, feeling the baby move beneath your hands.
"I love you too," he replies, his eyes shining with emotion. "And I love our little family, more than words can say."
At that moment, surrounded by the playful piglets on the walls and the warmth of Lewis's embrace, you feel a sense of completeness. Your love story is like toast—warm, soft, and buttery—filling your life with sweetness and comfort. It's a love that grows even stronger with each passing day and a warmth that spreads just the same.
oh my god, i loved this request, and a huge thank you for you and the work you do, this hit very close to home, and I loved writing every word of it!! also, I'm not really good at writing anything that's not angsty I don't think. so I apologize in advance for the cringe omg. I tried to make it romantic I really did. 😭
S: Your husband Simon buys you the giant grizzly bear at IKEA
Or
Simon looks out for your inner child🐻🐻🐻
Pairing: Simon Riley x f!reader
Tw: Fluff/domesticity/talk of adopting/black reader friendly
WC:1.6k
Notes: No pronouns are used for reader; this is short and sweet; I'm fr gonna buy this bear someday; this is proofread but there may still be mistakes🐻🐻🐻
“Whoo! Finally getting towards the end.” You sigh as both you and Simon make your way through the wardrobes and finally start into the children's section. You've seen them a hundred times before, because the two of you treat Ikea like the hottest place for a date, but you can't help but glance into displays for the kid's rooms anyway. You and Simon have mentioned adopting a child before. You've never discussed it deeply or anything and it hasn't come up since getting married, but everytime you walk past this section you can't help but wonder if Simon is as nervous to bring it back up as you are.
“ Yeah towards the end of the first floor. Still got the warehouse left.” Said man's deep voice snaps you out of your thoughts. Simon walks up next to you, one of his large hands full with the small things you've picked up throughout this entire walk, from the escalator to the stairs. It's just a few items that you can never pass up because of how cheap they are, those and the raspberry cookies(sometimes you come to Ikea just for those things).
“Hey, any progress is good progress. Besides, we can just use the shortcuts down stairs.” You shrug before glancing up at your behemoth of a husband with a hopeful look. Simon doesn't say anything but the small breath he huffs out tells you what you need to know. You suck your teeth loudly and throw your head back.
“Fiiiine! We can walk through the warehouse again.” You whine and again Simon doesn't say anything but you know him well enough to know he's pleased he got his way. You bump into his side and loop your arm through his, taking an appreciative squeeze of his bicep because you can.
“I spoil you too much.” You pout and this time Simon audibly scoffs before gently moving you out of the way of a passing shopper. You smile too. You know you're not one to talk about being spoiled, with how well Simon takes care of you. The two of you are just finishing maneuvering through the kid beds when you glance over at the stuffed animals like you always do. You always contemplate buying another small bear but end up thinking better of it. Only this time you linger in front of one particular crate a little longer than usual. Simon feels you slowing down and stops as well, looking back at you. He looks down, and you're standing in front of a crate of dark, plush grizzly bears. That wasn't a surprise, you always stop by the lovies for a moment when you both come here.
“Heeey they put this display by the exit again!” You say happily before picking up one of the floppy bears. It was the large version of the itty bitty ones. Despite how big it is though, it's still light due to the thin fabric and the minimal stuffing. Simon always tells you that you should just spend the money it takes to get a quality stuffie, instead of buying the cheap ones, but you liked Ikea stuffed animals. Something about the simple designs just made you happy. Simon watches as you bounce the bear lightly, a small smile on your face.
“Why don't you finally take him ‘ome today?” He says suddenly and you look over at him.
“Huh?” You ask, while still holding the bear in the air. Simon sighs and walks over to you.
“You stop to pick him up everytime we come ‘ere. You must want one.” He says before plopping a big hand on its head, and you startle slightly.
“Oh, no I just like how bottom heavy it is, is all. I've noticed it for years now.” You shrug before trying to put the bear down but Simon stops you.
“Then get one.” He says and how soft his gaze is makes you falter for a moment. You pause for a second to bask in your husband's attention, knowing he's likely reading you like he always does, but shake your head.
“Nah.” You relent with a frown but Simon persists.
“Why?” He asks immediately, and even though he can't fold his arms, you still feel the sass radiating off of him. You sigh and roll your eyes, not knowing why your spouse wanted you to get an IKEA bear so badly all of a sudden.
“Because Simon! Where would I even put it? And what do I look like buying a big ass twenty dollar bear from IKEA?” You huff. It's always been an impractical buy. One you felt too silly to ask your parents for when you were younger and one you felt equally silly for wanting to buy once you were financially independent. The bear is cute and just looking at it makes you smile, but it was one of those things you just don't actually spend your money on. Simon watches you for a moment before nodding.
“Alright then.” He mutters quietly before stuffing his hand deep into the display and grabbing one of the giant bears from the bottom. You look at him surprised when he tugs one out and plops the big thing into your arms.
“I'll buy it for you then.” He finishes before placing his large body behind yours and leading you back towards the stairs to the first floor.
“Simon! We don't have a reason to-!” You stutter until Simon presses a masked kiss to the top of your head. Surprising you because he doesn't like much more than you holding his arm in public.
“It makes you happy love. That's all the reason you need really.” His voice rumbles next to your ear, and you look down at the bear while Simon carefully guides you down the stairs, his calloused hand wrapped around yours.
“Jeez.” You sigh in disbelief. Was it that big a deal that you bought something that you've wanted for a while? That made you happy? The adult part of you feels like it's such a waste of money, but another part is already screaming about getting the giant teddy bear you wanted, and you can't fight the smile growing on your face. Maybe Simon was just looking out for your inner child. You wouldn't be surprised if he was thinking of that actually. You hug Simon's arm tighter as you both reach the bottom of the stairs and walk into the kitchen area, the urge to buy another wooden cutting board a strong one, when you remember something.
“ Do we still have to walk through the entire warehouse?” You break the silence to tease and Simon sighs.
“ I don't say anything when you want to walk through the second floor for the hundredth time.” he retorts with a sideways glance at you and you suck your teeth.
“ But they change the displays! They don't change the displays downstairs!” you debate and Simon just shakes his head in disagreement.
“Sure they do. They might have a new Halloween thing going on ‘n that spot with the oven mitts and jam jars.” He points out and you bust out laughing before he can even finish, making some heads turn towards the two of you.
“Yeah you're right. Or in the area with the towels? They put those strings lights up and the yellow throw blankets.” You agree and you both go back and forth as you continue through the store, hand in hand and a giant grizzly bear plushie in your arms.
***
It's late at night now, towards that time when you and Simon usually lay down for the night. There's a simple, new mug on your nightstand, on top of a few more cork coasters than you had before today. You're content and showered, laying up against a large fur belly while you turn through the pages of the book you're reading this month. You'd usually be reading on your phone, but you're trying to cut down on all the digital reading for the sake of your eyes.
The bathroom light clicks off and Simon walks out soon after, comfortable and clean in a shirt and sweatpants. He's just about to walk over to the bed when he pauses at the sight in front of him. You're sat snug in bed, with your back against your new teddy bear, and the bear against the headboard. You looked cozy, and oddly enough so did the bear, with his floppy arms resting against your waist. Simon watches the scene for a moment before walking over. You look up from your book when Simon climbs onto the bed and enters your space, his big body blocking everything behind him for a second.
“Sit up for a second babe.” he tells you, and you comply only to feel Simon pull the bear away from you. Before you can ask why, he slots himself into the same spot, easily scooching you up a bit to give himself more room. You look up at him for an explanation and Simon looks at you before glancing away with a small shrug.
“Bloke's just got here and he's already tryna take ma spot.” He mutters while getting comfortable, and you burst out laughing. Your giggles subside as you relax into your husband's embrace, his muscular arms wrapping around your waist. You hum and glance over at the bear now sitting up against your nightstand.
“Simon?” You call him quietly and he answers you with a short hum against the top of your head. You stare at the bear a little longer.
“I want to adopt a child with you.”
A/n: This just a little something I posted on AO3 and got to post here. I've gone to IKEA since writing this and it turns out the bear is 30 bucks not twenty! I'm still gonna buy him tho. Thanks for reading!🐻🐻🐻
You and Lewis had been separated for three months, which, if you think about is very long when you compare it to the amount of time you spent apart when you were together.
For four years, you and Lewis were inseparable, never spending more than a week apart. But that was then, and this is now, with three months of separation stretching out before you.
The two of you separated for one straightforward reason: You were the only person present in the relationship. Between his silence and your overthinking, it became a mess in the end.
Leaving Lewis was a heart-wrenching decision. The man you once believed would be your future husband, the man you were once engaged to, was now a distant memory.
As you reflect on the past, you realize how much you had been neglected. This realization strengthens your resolve and affirms your decision to leave, reminding you of your worth.
You weren’t sure if Lewis loved you. He didn't communicate with you, show you any affection, or pay you any attention. He didn't put time aside for you. It was hell being in a one-sided relationship.
It began to be exhausting putting in all the effort and trying to get him to see you because lately, you hadn't felt that.
It was a painful realization. Lewis, the man you loved, was slowly but surely draining you. His presence no longer brought you joy or adoration; it made you miserable. You felt like a ghost, unseen and unappreciated.
But even then, you gave him the benefit of the doubt. He'd had a hard season, was constantly stressed, and life wasn't going as planned. So, one more try: you would halt your efforts for one week while he was away in Miami.
It was a test, really, to see if he was still putting in the effort, a plan meant to expose whether he even thought about you or remotely cared. If he could go a week without you in any form, he didn't deserve you or appreciate you. That would be obvious. Or he would notice, and he'd get his act together. But a part of you lacked faith in the latter option. In the end, his actions would give you an answer to the question you've had for a while.
Would you want to stay with someone like that? Someone who's okay without you or, worse, doesn’t even notice your change?
May fifth, the day of the race, would mark your fourth anniversary, and while he would be away, you were still curious to see what he had planned or if he remembered at all.
Lewis left on Wednesday. It wasn't like your old send-offs. There were no passionate moments in bed, him leaving you something to remember him by or even your classic bye-bye brunches. He rolled his bags from your shared home while you were still deep in your slumber.
You awoke to an empty, cold house.
You spent that day alone, with Roscoe, of course. Spending the next two days cuddled up to your fur baby and taking him on exciting new adventures. You nearly slipped up and sent Lewis many pictures and videos of you and Roscoe plenty of times, only to remember your end goal and lock your phone with a sigh.
When Friday came around, and Lewis still hadn't so much as sent you a single text, you had an inkling of what you'd have to do come Sunday.
It was almost as if Roscoe could sense your turmoil; in return, he was extra clingy. He followed you everywhere, lying at your feet on the couch, snuggled into your side in bed, and even sitting patiently at your feet as you sat on the toilet. You could only sigh as you revel in the time you had with him. He was your good boy, your first child. The thought of missing him was nearly enough for you to call off your intentions, but then your therapist's words rang through your mind like a harsh reminder.
"Sometimes, you have to sacrifice your relationship with another for the sake of one; I know it might be hard to think about losing your friends and your little guy if you do find it's time to leave him, but in the end, your job is to save yourself. Never feel guilty for thinking of yourself for once. You'll always love them, yeah? He'll remember how much you loved him, and you'll miss him; he'll miss you. But how long can you survive in that relationship?"
You remember spending that entire session crying over how much you'd miss Roscoe as you contemplated the cons of leaving your relationship.
In the end, your job is to save yourself.
On Saturday, you stayed awake even when your eyes begged you to close them. You kept your phone tucked beside you, and your eyes dropped as the clock hit twelve.
Every year before that, Lewis celebrated your love immediately. For three hours, you waited for something as simple as a text or a post—something to acknowledge you. After a while, your exhaustion won, and you succumbed to your tiredness.
You tried not to get your hopes up when you awoke in the morning, your anniversary day. You felt like an idiot as you turned over your phone, and there was nothing from Lewis. Your expectations were still very much high, which is why you scrambled from the bed and rushed to the front door. Your intent to see if there were any florals delivered to your doorstep proved pointless as you swung open the door, and the only delivery had been your Amazon package.
With a disappointing sigh, you snatched it from the porch and called for Roscoe. You slipped on your Birkenstocks, leading him outside to relieve himself. You sat on the patio, bonnet on and nightgown pooling around you as you watched Roscoe run around in the yard.
It was becoming real then.
You stayed outside for an hour, playing around with Roscoe, chasing him, him chasing you, and even tossing his ball until you decided it was time to take action.
You hauled Roscoe into the home, giving him fresh water and food as you connected to the speaker and blasted your music.
Your impending decision wasn't so much impending anymore. You knew what you needed to do; sooner was better than later.
It was one in the afternoon, and if he hadn't shown any signs of acknowledgment at that time, you knew it wouldn't come.
A small portion of you wanted to cry, burst into tears, and scream because of how hurt you were. But the dominant part of you was just angry. Lewis would learn his lesson; he'd miss you, and you'd make sure he felt it.
You wanted him to miss you like you missed him. He'd find himself craving your random calls and appreciating your silly texts. He'd crave your warm embrace again, and he'd want to die without your unique smile and your loving eyes.
He'd want everything he had taken for granted because that is precisely what he had done. He made you feel alone, even when he was there. You were the shadow lurking in your home — the distant body in your shared bed.
You deserved someone who always told you he loved you, always hugged you, and never left without a kiss. You deserve a man who talks to you about everything, who cares about how your day went and how you feel. You shouldn't give everything and get nothing; you don't deserve that.
You've been nothing but superb to him. You always showed up for him when it mattered, embraced him when he was down or even when he was happy, cooked meals for him when he was home and made every dinner special for him. You asked him about his day every day, and you listened.
Lewis couldn't say the same, and he wouldn't be able to. And that was the straw on the camel's back. You refused to give that level of love to a man who wouldn't reciprocate it. You didn't care how much you loved him; that was a level of disrespect and negligence you weren't willing to tolerate.
You weren't raised to accept the bare minimum, which was precisely what he gave you.
That was your moment of realization as you packed your bags. Lewis was due back Tuesday night, so you had the remainder of Sunday and Monday to gather your belongings and make your furtive exit.
Lewis made P7; you knew this because as you separated your belongings from his, you had the race streaming on the TV mounted in your room.
On Twitter, you saw him later that night out partying, and that only angered you for approximately ten minutes before you were only feeling disappointed in the man. You'd never been good at the art of detachment until then.
Suddenly, you weren't angry or furious with Lewis anymore; you felt content with your decision as you zipped up your last suitcase and taped up the last of your boxes.
As night fell and night arrived, you lay in your shared bed for the last time, Roscoe's head on your tummy as he snored. Your hand caressed his head in gentle rubs, and you sigh.
When the clock hits twelve and your anniversary officially passes, you feel like an idiot for even having faith in the man.
First thing in the morning, the driveway was filled with moving trucks and workers. You sat patiently on the couch as you waited for Anthony to arrive. When the sun begins to set, and the loading is done, you see headlights beam through the windows.
The door opens and closes softly, and there they stand, Anthony and Nicholas with glum faces.
"Are you sure, love?" Anthony whispers as he approaches you. He looks so distressed that you can only nod back at him. He sits beside you, taking one of your hands in his.
"As long as you are sure." And you break down into a fit of tears as Lewis' father comforts you, even as you leave his son. Nicholas takes the spot beside you, his hand rubbing your shoulder to comfort you.
"You gave him time and chances," Anthony hums, his free hand rubbing circles on your back. "I love my son, and I love you just as much; we will always love you."
Nicholas hums in agreement. "Still going to be our family."
You know you must leave before you allow your love for his family to deter you. So you take one last shaky breath, standing to your feet, where Roscoe waits patiently. You squat down, tears falling from your eyes and soaking into his fur.
"I love you, buddy. So much, you're my good boy." You whisper, kissing his head over and over.
You stand again, looking at Anthony and Nicholas one last time and pulling them into separate hugs. "Thank you." You whisper out and pass the keys over and instructions on properly caring for Roscoe, even if they will only have him for less than a day.
"I'll be waiting to talk to you again," Anthony announces, and you nod.
"Don't tell him?" you request. I've left him a letter upstairs; I'd like him to find out on my terms.
They nod, and you trek through the house and out of the front doors to what used to be the home you planned on spending the rest of your life in.
As you close the door, you hear Roscoe's incessant whines and scratches against it, and you sob all over again as you continue your journey to your car.
In the end, your job is to save yourself.
You weren't selfish for choosing yourself, especially over a person whose life you're choosing to walk out of because you didn't feel as if you belonged in it anymore. You didn't belong in that house anymore, in that relationship. You didn't belong with Lewis. It was a harsh and painful reality. But change is unbearable, and from change comes growth. And that growth can also be painful. But nothing would ever compare to the pain of staying stuck somewhere you don't belong. Nothing would ever hurt you more than loving a man more than he loved you.
You always preached about "when you know, you know." You've always felt it, that gut feeling that it was time for something new. You were great at knowing when to move on and let go and acknowledging when those shifts needed to be addressed. You loved to say out with the old and in with the new. The point is that you never struggled with trusting the process of life until life told you that you weren't meant for Lewis.
This was the first time that you doubted the imminent change. This change meant that you were fleeing from your love. As you backed out of the driveway, your vision blurred by burning tears; you could only cry as you mourned the love you once had. But this was all for a greater purpose, the purpose of you finding joy in life again because you sure have felt drained of it.
-
Tuesday came and went, and as night fell, Lewis pulled into the driveway. Given the closed four-car garage, he did not find it suspicious that your car was missing. He grunted as he pulled his suitcase from the trunk and eased up the steps and into his foyer.
He isn't immediately greeted by Roscoe or your arms wrapping around him, and he squints when he sees how dark and cold it is inside the home.
That put him on edge.
You always liked a warm glow emitting through the home, so a dim lamp was always on to illuminate the open floor plan. At night, you liked the home to be slightly warm, like a spring breeze, yet there was an icy chill running through it.
He calls out your name as he settles his bags by the door. He even calls Roscoe, and when he hears nothing, he sets a fast pace up the stairs.
"Babe!"
No response.
When Lewis reaches the second level, he immediately heads to your guys' room. When he hits the light switch, he suddenly becomes aware of how cold and barren the room looks and feels.
You're not snuggled into the middle of the bed like he usually finds you; his pillow isn't locked in your arms and held to your chest. You're not there.
Your small trinkets are no longer scattered around the room, and he rushes to the closet; none of your belongings are there. Lewis feels his heart rate accelerate as fear creeps into his body.
He turns to face the bed again, and when he sees your nightstand, he rushes over; your ring sits in the same velvet box he proposed to you with, and a piece of paper is lying underneath it. He snatches them both up, his mind reeling, and suddenly, he feels like he could throw up.
I've made a decision that was hard for me in the beginning and became clearer as the days went on. I've gotten comfortable with the bare minimum. It's been my normal for a while. I'm choosing to evolve, grow, and learn to accept what I deserve. It'd be more challenging for me to stay with you than it would be for me to leave you. I've realized that. I couldn't handle it anymore. It was the same routine; you never noticed me or acknowledged me. I've tried to address this issue, and it's done nothing; you've done nothing but give me baseless promises. I can no longer stick around for a relationship where I've been the only one present. No matter how much I love you. And I really did love you, with everything in me. I should’ve never allowed myself to get comfortable with how you neglected and fell out of love with me. I've chosen you repeatedly, but this time, I must choose me; I have to, Lewis. Happy anniversary.
Your dad has Roscoe.
Lewis squeezes his eyes shut and clutches his chest with a firm grip. His body quivers as he slumps onto the ground, his back against the bed frame. Lewis wasn't new to panic attacks, especially with all of the stress he took on from his job. But this was his first time having to suffer through one without you.
The world seemed to close in on Lewis, a suffocating weight pressing down on his chest as his heart raced uncontrollably. His breath came in short, shallow gasps, each inhalation a struggle against the invisible hands that seemed to be squeezing the air from his lungs.
His vision blurred, the edges of his sight becoming hazy and indistinct as panic tightened its grip. Thoughts raced through his mind like a whirlwind, a cacophony of fears and anxieties swirling around him, threatening to engulf him in their dark embrace.
Desperately, he tried to ground himself, to find some semblance of stability amidst the chaos. He focused on his breath, trying to slow the frantic rhythm of his heart. But each attempt felt like grasping at smoke, his efforts slipping through his fingers like sand.
His body trembled with the intensity of his panic, a cold sweat breaking out across his skin as waves of nausea washed over him. It was as if he were trapped in a nightmare from which there was no escape, a relentless onslaught of terror that threatened to consume him whole.
And yet, somewhere deep within him, a flicker of resilience remained. Despite the overwhelming darkness that threatened to engulf him, he clung to the hope that this too shall pass, that he would emerge from the storm-battered but unbowed. But this hope came to him as visions of you.
In the midst of the chaos swirling around him, Lewis found himself grasping desperately for something, anything, to anchor him to reality. And amidst the turmoil, your memories came flooding back like a beacon of light cutting through the darkness.
He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be enveloped by the warmth of those memories. The sound of your laughter echoed in his mind, a melody that calmed the frantic rhythm of his heart. He remembered the way your smile could light up even the darkest of days, the way your touch could banish the shadows of doubt and fear.
With each breath, he summoned forth another memory, another moment shared between you two. The way you would lose yourselves in the conversation for hours on end, the way you would always know just what to say to ease his troubled mind.
It was as if you were there with him, a comforting presence in the midst of the storm. And with each memory, each recollection of your time together, the panic began to recede, like a tide slowly ebbing away from the shore.
In those moments, surrounded by the echoes of your love, Lewis found the strength to carry on and learn to breathe again. Though you were no longer by his side, your memory was a lifeline, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, love endures. And with that realization, he took a deep breath, the weight of the world lifting ever so slightly from his shoulders as he found solace in the embrace of their shared past.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the tide began to recede. His breaths grew steadier, the racing of his heart gradually slowing to a more manageable pace. The world around him began to regain its focus, the blurred edges sharpening into clarity once more.
As Lewis rereads your letter, a torrent of emotions overwhelms him, but solace is elusive. Instead, a heavyweight settles in his chest, burdened with the weight of misery and guilt.
Your words, filled with love and longing, only serve to magnify his pain. With each sentence, the guilt gnaws at him, a relentless voice whispering accusations in his ear. He replays the moments leading up to your departure, dissecting his actions and words, searching for where he went wrong.
The memories of your time together, once a source of comfort, now feel like daggers piercing his heart. Each moment of happiness is tainted by the knowledge of your absence, a constant reminder of his failure to hold onto what he cherished most.
As tears blur his vision, Lewis finds himself consumed by remorse. He wishes he could turn back time, rewrite the script, and undo the mistakes that led to this moment. But the past is immutable, and he is left to grapple with the consequences of his actions.
In the depths of his misery, Lewis feels utterly alone, adrift in a sea of regret and self-recrimination. He longs for a reprieve from the agony that threatens to consume him, but it remains elusive, just out of reach.
And yet, amidst the darkness, a flicker of hope remains. Deep down, Lewis knows that redemption is possible and that forgiveness can be found even in the darkest of times. But for now, he must navigate the storm of his emotions, clinging to the hope that one day, he will find peace once more. That you loved him enough to give him one more chance.
-
In the quiet moments of the day, when the hustle and bustle of life subsides, you find yourself grappling with a sense of emptiness that lingers despite your efforts to embrace change. Three months have passed since you made the difficult decision to leave Lewis behind, and while you've tried to convince yourself that it was for the best, a part of you still aches for what was lost.
Life has moved on, as it always does, and you've thrown yourself into new experiences and opportunities, hoping to fill the void left by Lewis' absence. But no matter how hard you try, there's a lingering sense of incompleteness that tugs at your heartstrings, a yearning for the familiarity and comfort of what once was.
In the midst of laughter and celebration, there are moments when you find yourself lost in thought, your mind wandering back to the memories you shared with Lewis. The sound of his laughter, the warmth of his embrace – they haunt you like ghosts, reminders of a love that once burned bright but has since faded into the recesses of memory.
You've tried to convince yourself that you've moved on, that you're better off without him, but deep down, you know the truth. Life may be different now, but it's not necessarily better. There's a void within you that no amount of change or distraction can fill, a longing for something – or someone – that you can't quite shake.
And so, as you navigate the complexities of life without Lewis by your side, you're left to confront the uncomfortable truth that sometimes, embracing change isn't enough to heal the wounds of the past. Despite your best efforts to move forward, a part of you will always be tethered to the love you left behind.
In the wake of leaving Lewis and embarking on a new chapter of life, there's a profound sense of loss that lingers within you. While you navigate the complexities of change and try to come to terms with the absence of Lewis, there's another absence that weighs heavily on your heart – the absence of your beloved canine companion, Roscoe.
Roscoe was more than just a pet; he was a faithful friend, a source of unconditional love and companionship through the highs and lows of life. His wagging behind and eager eyes greeted you each day, offering comfort and solace in moments of joy and sorrow alike.
In the quiet moments when the world slows down, and the noise fades away, you find yourself missing Roscoe more than ever. The memory of his warm presence, the feel of his fur beneath your fingertips, it all comes flooding back with a bittersweet intensity that catches you off guard.
You long to hear the sound of his paws padding across the floor, to feel the weight of his body nestled against yours as you curl up on the couch together. The emptiness left by his absence is palpable, a silent reminder of the void that he once filled in your life.
And yet, despite the pain of separation, there's a deep sense of gratitude for the time you shared with Roscoe. The memories you created together are a testament to the bond you shared, a bond that transcends time and distance.
As you navigate the complexities of life without Lewis by your side, you find yourself missing your tiny makeshift family, his family included.
Losing Lewis also meant losing the connection you had with his family, a connection that had become a source of warmth and acceptance in your life, especially given the complexities of your own family dynamics.
Growing up, your relationship with your family had always been strained, marked by misunderstandings and distance. But with Lewis' family, you found a sense of belonging that had eluded you for so long. Their laughter filled the air with joy, a stark contrast to the somber silence that often hung over your own family gatherings.
They embraced you as one of their own, welcoming you into their home and their hearts. Losing them in the separation felt like losing a piece of yourself, a painful reminder of the fragility of the connections we forge in life.
In the quiet moments when the ache of separation threatened to overwhelm you, you found yourself yearning for the familiar comforts of their presence. Their voices, their hugs – they were precious memories that you held onto tightly, like fragile treasures in the depths of your soul.
As you navigated the aftermath of the separation, you couldn't help but mourn the loss of not only Lewis but also his family. Their absence left a void in your heart, a sense of loss that weighed heavily on your spirit.
Leaving Lewis meant that you lost everything.
As you reflect on your decision to leave Lewis, the memories of his distance weigh heavily on your heart. It felt like you were carrying the weight of the relationship alone, like a lone traveler traversing a vast expanse of loneliness.
The moments of connection that once filled your days together had become increasingly rare, replaced by silence and a growing sense of isolation. It seemed as though you were the only one putting in the effort to keep the relationship alive while Lewis drifted further and further away, lost in his own thoughts and concerns.
You longed for the closeness and intimacy that had once defined your relationship, but it felt like an impossible dream, a mirage shimmering on the horizon, always just out of reach. No matter how hard you tried to bridge the gap between you, it seemed to widen with each passing day until it felt like you were living in two separate worlds.
In the end, you made the difficult decision to walk away, not because you stopped loving Lewis but because you couldn't bear the loneliness of being the only one fighting for the relationship. It was a choice born out of self-preservation, a refusal to sacrifice your own happiness and well-being for the sake of a love that had long since grown cold.
And now, as you navigate the aftermath of the separation, you can't help but wonder if things could have been different if there was anything you could have done to save what was lost. But deep down, you know that sometimes, letting go is the only way to find the happiness and fulfillment you deserve. So you go about your day, cozied up on the couch in your cozy apartment, still missing Lewis but very much understanding of your decision.
-
As Lewis sits alone in his room, his phone is clutched tightly in his hand, and he can't shake the feeling of desperation that washes over him. He's tried everything – calling, texting, even reaching out through social media – but all his attempts to contact you have been met with silence.
Each unanswered call and unanswered message feels like a dagger to his heart, a painful reminder of your absence and the uncertainty that now looms over his life. He wonders what he could have done differently to prevent this rift from forming between you.
His mind races with questions, each one more torturous than the last. Was there someone else, or was it simply a case of drifting apart, with two souls heading in different directions? He refused to believe that because he loved you more than life, he still does.
The lack of closure gnaws at him, a relentless ache that refuses to be quelled. He longs to hear your voice, to see your face, to have just a moment of connection with you again. But no matter how hard he tries, you remain elusive, like a ghost slipping through his fingers.
In the depths of his despair, Lewis clings to the hope that someday, somehow, he'll find a way to reach you, to break through the walls that separate you and bridge the chasm that now divides your lives.
-
As you step out for your first date since leaving Lewis, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbles within you. It feels like a tentative step forward, a chance to explore new possibilities and rediscover a sense of joy and companionship. Chris seemed nice, and he was attentive to you, something you hadn’t felt in a while.
But as you arrive at the restaurant, the atmosphere suddenly shifts, a sense of unease settling over you like a heavy cloak. The flash of cameras blinds you momentarily as paparazzi swarm around, their lenses trained on you like predators stalking their prey.
Caught off guard, you freeze in place, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggle to comprehend what's happening. How did they find you? And more importantly, how will Lewis react when he sees the headlines splashed across the tabloids?
The date itself fades into the background as you're engulfed by a whirlwind of anxiety and fear. Thoughts race through your mind, each one more terrifying than the last. Will Lewis think you've moved on too quickly? Will he feel betrayed by your decision to start dating again?
As the paparazzi continue to snap away, you feel exposed, vulnerable, as if your every move is being scrutinized and judged by the world at large. It's a stark reminder of the price of fame, the invasive nature of public scrutiny that leaves you feeling like a prisoner in your own life.
But still, your biggest concern was how Lewis would handle it.
-
He wasn't okay.
As Lewis catches wind of your date through the relentless paparazzi coverage, a storm of emotions rages within him. Jealousy, misery, and anger collide in a tumultuous whirlwind, threatening to engulf him in their tempestuous embrace.
The thought of you with another man fills him with a sense of unbearable longing and regret. He's missed you, more than he ever thought possible, and the idea of you moving on without him cuts him to the core. How could you be okay living without him, when every moment without you feels like a lifetime of emptiness?
In his mind, he replays the memories of your time together, each one a painful reminder of what he's lost. He wonders if he could have done things differently or if he could have been the partner you needed him to be. But now, it feels like too little, too late, as he watches helplessly from the sidelines as you move on with your life.
The bitterness of jealousy twists in his gut, fueling his anger and resentment. He wants to lash out, scream, and shout and make you understand the depth of his pain. But beneath the anger lies a deeper sadness, a profound sense of loss that threatens to consume him whole.
As Lewis grapples with his conflicting emotions, he's left to confront the harsh reality of your absence and the painful realization that he may have lost you forever. But he refuses to give up on you.
As Lewis observes the subtle ways you've been avoiding him, a mix of frustration and longing wells up within him. It's become increasingly clear that you're actively steering clear of any situation where you might cross paths, and while part of him understands, another part can't help but feel hurt by your apparent avoidance.
He's noticed your absence at mutual friend gatherings, the empty space where you used to stand, and it feels like a painful reminder of the void left by your departure. Each missed opportunity to reconnect only serves to deepen his sense of loss, leaving him to wonder if you'll ever be willing to face him again.
But amidst the disappointment, there's a glimmer of hope – your unwavering commitment to attending his brother's birthday celebration. It's a small gesture, but one that speaks volumes to Lewis. Despite the distance between you, despite the pain of separation, you're still willing to show up for his family, to be there for them in their moments of celebration.
In that realization, Lewis finds a sense of solace, a reminder that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for reconciliation. He knows that healing takes time and that wounds need time to mend, but seeing you make an effort to be there for his family gives him hope that maybe, someday, you'll find a way to bridge the gap between you and find your way back to each other.
"She's going to be here?"
Nicholas nods cautiously, "Yeah, but Lewis, you have to let her be, okay?"
"What are you talking about? She's my fiance?"
"But she's not." Nicholas interrupts.
"And she hasn't been for half a year."
The words dawn on Lewis, and they make his heartache in a festering way, yet he can't help but feel comfort in knowing that for the first time, he'd be able to see you again, face to face.
As you step into Nicholas' birthday party, a knot forms in the pit of your stomach, a tangible manifestation of the nervousness that courses through your veins. You know Lewis will be there, and the thought of facing him again fills you with a sense of apprehension and uncertainty.
Your heart races as you scan the crowded room, searching for any sign of him. Each familiar face you encounter sends a jolt of anxiety coursing through you, and you can't help but feel a pang of guilt for the way you've been avoiding him.
Determined to keep your distance, you slip through the crowd like a ghost, carefully avoiding any areas where you suspect Lewis might be lurking. You plaster on a smile and engage in polite conversation with the other partygoers, but your mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of the man you're desperately trying to avoid.
As the night wears on, the tension in the air becomes palpable, a silent undercurrent that threatens to pull you under. You steal furtive glances around the room, half-hoping to catch sight of Lewis and half-dreading the inevitable confrontation that awaits.
But as the hours pass and the party begins to wind down, you realize with a sense of relief that you've managed to make it through most of the evening without crossing paths with him.
The knot in your stomach loosens ever so slightly, and you allow yourself to breathe a small sigh of relief.
That is, until you see him.
As Lewis scans the room, his gaze inevitably falls upon you, blending seamlessly into the crowd. There's a longing in his eyes as he watches you from afar, a silent ache that tugs at his heartstrings with each passing moment.
He can't help but notice the way you move with a grace that belies the nervousness he knows must be churning within you. Despite your attempts to blend in, there's an undeniable magnetism about you that draws his gaze like a moth to a flame.
Memories of your time together flood his mind, a montage of moments both joyous and bittersweet. He recalls the way your laughter filled the room, the warmth of your smile, and the way your eyes sparkled with mischief when you were up to no good.
But beneath the surface, there's a sense of sadness, a yearning for the connection that once bound them together. He longs to reach out to you, to bridge the gap that now separates you, but he knows that now is not the time nor the place.
With a heavy heart, Lewis watches from a distance, his eyes lingering on you like a silent prayer. He knows that healing takes time, that wounds need time to mend, but deep down, he can't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, there's still a chance for reconciliation, an opportunity to find your way back to each other once more.
As your eyes lock with Lewis's across the pulsating dance floor, a surge of panic propels you into action. Without a second thought, you pivot on your heel and dart through the crowd, your heart hammering in your chest like a wild drumbeat.
Every fiber of your being screams for escape as you push your way toward the exit, the urgency of your flight drowning out the thumping bass of the music. But even amidst the chaos, you can feel Lewis's gaze burning into your back, his presence a heavy weight that follows you like a shadow.
With each step, your pace quickens, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you try to put as much distance as possible between yourself and the man you once loved. But no matter how fast you run, you can't outrun the memories that haunt you or the longing that lingers in your heart.
And then, just as you reach the sanctuary of the exit, you feel a hand grasp your arm, pulling you to a sudden stop. You turn to face Lewis, his eyes searching yours with a desperate intensity that leaves you reeling.
In that moment, you're paralyzed, caught between the urge to flee and the desire to confront the emotions that swirl between you. But before you can make a decision, Lewis's voice breaks through the chaos, a whisper of longing that sends a shiver down your spine.
With a sense of inevitability, you realize that there's no escaping the truth – no matter how hard you try to run, the bond between you and Lewis refuses to be broken. And as he reaches out to you, his desperation palpable, you know that you can't ignore the pull of fate any longer.
"Baby, please, let me talk to you."
As you finally turn to face Lewis, the sight of him stops you dead in your tracks. His eyes, usually so full of life and vitality, now seem dulled with a sorrow that cuts you to the core. They glisten with unshed tears, twinkling in the dim light of the club, and his fluttery eyelashes betray the vulnerability that lies beneath his stoic exterior.
At that moment, he looks like a kicked puppy, abandoned and alone, and you can't help but feel a pang of guilt for the pain you've caused him. His expression is a silent plea for understanding, for forgiveness, and it tugs at your heartstrings with a force you can't ignore.
Despite your best efforts to steel yourself against his gaze, you find yourself crumbling under the weight of his sorrow. The walls you've built around your heart begin to crumble, and all you can see is the hurt reflected in his eyes.
With a heavy sigh, you reach out to him, your fingers trembling as they brush against his cheek. In that moment, you realize that you can't bear to see him hurting like this, that despite the pain of the past, your love for him still lingers like a ghost, refusing to be silenced.
You turn, allowing his grip on your arm to remain as you continue out the door. You are in a dark alley, he's still looking at you with that same miserable pout lodged onto his face.
"You left me," He whispers.
As Lewis's voice trembles with emotion, his words pierce through the barrier you've erected around your heart. The sincerity in his apology is palpable, each syllable weighted with the regret of past mistakes. You can't help but feel a tug at your own heartstrings, a flicker of empathy for the pain he's endured.
"And I don't blame you, I was shit to you. I've been struggling more than I care to admit," Lewis confesses, his voice heavy with the weight of his words.
"The season has been relentless, and the constant setbacks with my car... it's been a mental battle I haven't been winning."
He pauses, searching for the right words to convey the depth of his anguish. "I know I haven't been myself lately, and I've taken that out on you. I'm sorry, truly. I never meant to hurt you, but I let my frustrations get the best of me."
There's a vulnerability in his voice as he lays bare his struggles, a raw honesty that cuts through the silence between you. "I see now how my actions have affected you, and it breaks my heart. You didn't deserve to bear the brunt of my pain, and I'm sorry for not being there for you when you needed me."
His gaze meets yours, pleading for understanding and forgiveness. "I'm trying to work through this, to find my way back to myself so that I can be better for you. I want to be better for you."
His admission hits you like a wave, washing away the bitterness and resentment that had taken root within you. It's as if a weight has been lifted from your shoulders, the burden of hurt and anger finally dissipating in the face of his vulnerability.
With a heavy sigh, you meet his gaze, seeing the turmoil reflected in his eyes. In that moment, you realize that despite the pain of the past, the love you once shared still lingers between you, a flicker of hope in the darkness of your regrets.
And as Lewis continues to pour out his heart, expressing his remorse for the loneliness you felt in the relationship, you find yourself nodding in understanding. You know all too well the toll that suffering in silence can take, and you can't fault him for wanting to shield you from his own pain.
In the quiet of the moment, you find solace in the shared acknowledgment of your struggles, a silent understanding that binds you together even as you stand on opposite sides of the divide. And as you reach out to him, offering a tentative embrace, he physically brightens as if you have taken the sun and held it right above him.
"I need you to know," Lewis begins, his voice laced with a raw vulnerability, "how miserable I've been without you. Your absence... it's been like a gaping hole in my chest, a constant reminder of what I've lost."
His words tremble with the weight of his emotions as he continues, "I've missed you more than I ever thought possible. Every moment without you felt like an eternity, and the emptiness of your absence was impossible to ignore."
"I know I've made mistakes, pushed you away when I should have pulled you closer," he admits, his voice thick with regret. "But please understand, it was never because I stopped loving you. If anything, it was because I loved you too much and didn't know how to cope with the pain of making you feel as miserable as I was, but in the end, that is exactly what I ended up doing."
Lewis's gaze meets yours, pleading for understanding and forgiveness. "I can't change the past, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. Please, give me a chance to show you how much you mean to me, how lost I am without you by my side."
As Lewis pours his heart out, his words piercing through the walls you've built around your own heart, you feel a lump form in your throat. A single tear escapes, tracing a path down your cheek as you struggle to contain the flood of emotions welling up inside you.
His vulnerability is a mirror to your own, and in that moment, you realize just how much you've missed him, how much you've longed to hear those words spoken from his lips. With a trembling breath, you close the distance between you, your heart pounding in your chest as you lean in to kiss him.
The touch of his lips against yours is like coming home, a familiar warmth that envelops you in a cocoon of love and longing. In that fleeting moment, everything else fades away – the pain of the past, the uncertainty of the future – leaving only the two of you reunited at last in a tender embrace.
As you melt into each other, the weight of the world falls away, replaced by the sweet promise of a new beginning. And as you pull back, breathless and teary-eyed, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you'll face them together, hand in hand, forever bound by the unbreakable bond of love.
"Lewis," you begin, your voice soft but firm, "I need you to promise me something. I need you to promise that you'll open up to me next time, that you won't keep your struggles bottled up inside."
Tears still glisten in your eyes as you speak, but there's a determination in your voice that wasn't there before.
"That's how it works in relationships, you know? We're supposed to be there for each other through the good times and the bad. And I want to be there for you, always."
You reach out, taking his hand in yours, offering a reassuring squeeze.
"I love you, Lewis, and I care about how you feel. I don't want you to ever feel like you have to internalize your emotions like you have to suffer alone. I want to walk through them with you, hand in hand."
A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you continue, "If we're going to make this work if we're going to have a future together, that has to change. We have to be able to lean on each other, share our burdens, and lighten each other's load. Can you promise me that, Lewis? Can you promise to let me in?"
"I promise I'll try," Lewis responds, his voice tinged with sincerity and determination. "I know I haven't been the best at opening up, at letting you in, but I want to change that. I want to be more vulnerable with you, to share my struggles and my fears."
He reaches out, gently wiping away the tears that still linger on your cheeks.
"I love you more than anything, and I don't want to lose you again. If that means being more open and honest about how I'm feeling, then I'll do whatever it takes."
A small smile plays at the corners of his lips as he continues, "You've always been there for me, even when I didn't deserve it. And I want to be there for you, too, to be the partner you deserve."
With a final squeeze of your hand, he leans in to press a tender kiss to your forehead. "Together, we can get through anything. I believe that with all my heart."
As Lewis holds your hand, his thumb tracing absentminded patterns over your skin, he can't help but notice the absence of the familiar weight of your ring. His heart clenches painfully in his chest at the realization, a sharp pang of regret shooting through him like a bolt of lightning.
"I-I'm sorry," he stammers, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't help but notice... your finger, it's bare." The words catch in his throat, choked with the weight of his own guilt and remorse.
His grip tightens ever so slightly as if trying to hold onto you, to keep you from slipping away. "It pains me to see you without it," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know I'm the reason you took it off, and I hate myself for it."
Tears gather in his eyes as he meets your gaze, his own filled with a mix of sorrow and longing. "I miss the way it sparkled on your finger, a constant reminder of the love we shared. I miss us, and I'm so sorry for everything."
With a gentle squeeze of Lewis's hand, you offer him a reassuring smile, your eyes soft with affection. "I missed you too, Lewis," you admit, your voice tinged with sincerity. "And I still love you, all the same."
You can feel the tension in his grip ease slightly at your words, a flicker of hope lighting up his eyes. "As for the ring," you continue, a playful twinkle dancing in your gaze, "I suppose you'll have to put it back on my finger when we get home, won't you? Can't have everyone thinking I'm single, now can we?"
The corners of Lewis's lips quirk up into a hesitant smile at your jest, the heaviness in his heart beginning to lift. "I'd like that," he murmurs, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "I'd like that very much." And in that moment, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you'll face them together, hand in hand, forever bound by the unbreakable bond of love.
Lewis's eyes widen in disbelief as your words sink in, a glimmer of hope flickering to life in their depths. "You'll come home?" he repeats, his voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and longing.
A rush of emotions floods through him – relief, gratitude, and a profound sense of joy that threatens to overwhelm him.
A smile spreads across his face, lighting up his features with an infectious warmth. "Roscoe will be so thrilled to have you back, and so will I," he adds, his voice filled with genuine happiness. "I've missed you more than words can say, and I can't wait to have you home again where you belong. Losing you has been hard on all of us," Lewis confesses, his voice tinged with sorrow. "But seeing how miserable Roscoe has been without you at home... it breaks my heart."
He pauses, his gaze drifting to the floor as he struggles to find the right words to express the depth of his concern. "He's been moping around, refusing to eat, just waiting by the door for you to come back. It's like he knows you're not coming back, and it's killing me to see him like this."
You can hear the pain in his voice, the weight of his worry pressing down on him like a heavy burden. "I know he's just a dog, but he's family to us," he continues, his voice cracking with emotion. "And I hate that he's suffering because of me, because of my mistakes. I'm happy that you're coming back."
"I've missed you more than words can say, and I can't wait to have you home again where you belong."
With a sense of renewed hope and determination, Lewis pulls you into a tight embrace, holding you close as if afraid you might vanish into thin air. In that moment, surrounded by his love and warmth, you know that coming home was the right choice and that together, you can weather any storm that comes your way.
As Lewis's arms envelop you in a warm embrace, a sense of clarity washes over you like a cleansing wave. In his embrace, surrounded by his love and warmth, you realize that the change you needed wasn't leaving him but instead learning to communicate with him all over again.
The weight of your decision to leave lifts from your shoulders, replaced by a newfound sense of lightness and freedom. You see now that leaving him only made you miserable, that true happiness lies in facing your challenges together, hand in hand.
With Lewis by your side, you feel stronger, more resilient, and ready to tackle whatever obstacles life throws your way. You understand that change isn't always easy, but it's necessary for growth and renewal.
In this moment, surrounded by his love and support, you know that change is indeed good and that together, you can navigate the twists and turns of life's journey with grace and resilience. And as you bask in the warmth of his embrace, you feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the opportunity to start anew, to rebuild your relationship from the ground up, stronger and more resilient than ever before.
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why do I love writing angst? why is every draft I have depressing?
