#I'll be moving into my own room (FIRST TIME EVER!! HAVING MY OWN ROOM!! A CONCEPT!!) when I get back home | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dinogoofymutated · 1 month

Note

You asked for some smut suggestions for Logan, and I got one:

So like…I mean…Logan might be on the short side, but he’s still big! I mean, like,,,those hands 🫣 It would be nice to see a fic to do with Logan and a little manhandling. but not like in a BDSM way, more like a “I am very strong, and here’s a little reminder” type way. Might seem kinda silly but I’d enjoy a fic like that lol.

NSFW!Wolverine/AFAB!Reader Ask and you shall receive!! I've spent like the last four days working on this and atp I can't looks at it anymore lol. I'm not super happy with how the beginning is written, but I still think it's alright enough to post lol. It's a lot more tell than show compared to most of my other fics, and I was halfway tempted to reformat it into headcannons, but I didn't feel like it. Anyway, hope you like the way I included the manhandling lol! Hope it turned out okay :) Also, might or might not be tall logan. I'll leave it up to yall to assume, I'm just short af so there's not a single person in marvel who wouldn't have to look down at me lmao.

Edit:FUCK I FORGOT THE READ MORE! TWs: MDNI!!!!!! Seriously, you will be blocked. Masterbation, lil bit of a scent kink. Sexual frustration. Manhandling. Jealous Logan. Creampie. Logan calls you "sunshine" and pretty and shit. I'll add more if I can think of any.

You had a problem. You’ve had a problem. And it really didn’t seem like it was getting any better. It didn’t help the fact that it was incredibly embarrassing, either.

You couldn’t get off. It’s not like you ever struggled with it before, but lately, it felt like you were fighting a losing battle. At first, you didn’t realize why. Maybe it was because you moved into the X-Mansion. Nerves because you’re living somewhere new, right? So you change it up a little. You got comfortable, had a glass of wine or two, and picked up a raunchy book. Yet every time you slipped your hand between your thighs… Running circles around your own clit, trying your best to finger yourself to your finish, you just could never quite hit that peak. It was safe to say you were beyond frustrated.

Lucky for you, most people didn’t notice. You try your best not to be too uptight or mean, but there are just some things that you can’t quite hide from certain people.

Logan’s noticed that something is up with you. You can tell he has, seeing the looks on his face, nose scrunched up in a way he’s catching into something that he just can't quite place. You’re assuming it’s your own pheromones, but hey, as long as he doesn’t realize what it is you’ll be fine, right?

Maybe not.

Eventually, you finally realized why you were having so much trouble getting off. All it took was one training session with Wolverine, and you knew immediately. You weren’t sparring or anything like that, hell, you knew before you even hit the danger room floor. Logan was in a bit of a mood today, although not as grumpy as he can be- and he’s trying to be patient with you. You can tell. But you’re having trouble focusing today- and you have been for a while. He can tell you’re not at 100% just by the way you hold yourself, and spends about 5 minutes watching as you struggle to reset the Danger room panel before he’s finally fed up with it.

“Jesus fuck. Here, let me do it.” Logan grabs you by the waist, pulling you to his chest with one arm as the other reaches around you to reset the panel. It’s not like you didn’t find him attractive before, but the close contact? The smell of his aftershave and the sound of his voice growling in your ear?

oh.

Oh.

You were having trouble getting off because you had a thing for Logan.

You’re practically stunned when he pulls away, standing there with a flushed face and something rather embarrassing pooling in your underwear for the first time in a while. You had to quickly excuse yourself before you ran the risk of him catching onto anything coming from you. He’s a little confused for a second, but you can hear the sound of his low chuckle as you scramble away.

First thing you do? Go to the store.

It's not a random errand. At least, not entirely. You had meant to go out with Storm to grocery shop later this afternoon, but you told her you could really use some time out of the house by yourself, which she completely understood. You had the list and everything, it was only a coincidence that you passed by the cologne section on your way to pick up some toothpaste. The sight made you stop for a minute, the gears grinding in your skull. You spent just a few minutes curiously sampling the bottles until you found one that smelled a bit familiar… Should you? No, that's a bit strange. But really, what was the harm, right? I mean, who would know?

So you bought it. You felt a bit embarrassed afterward, knowing what you bought it for, and ended up letting it sit in the drawer of your side table for a good while. Until another desperate attempt at fucking your own brains out, that is.

You were sweaty and uncomfortable in your bed, sleep shirt sticking to your skin as you struggled to pump your fingers in and out of your tight cunt. It’s been a while, and it shows. You couldn’t even get your favorite dildo to fit inside of you, only adding to your frustration. Touching your clit hardly helped much, leaving you as unsatisfied as ever. Eventually, you give up, lying there as you sigh to yourself. You turn over in your bed in a huff, halfway temped scream your lungs out into the pillow you bury your face in. Instead, you let out something that sounds more like a whisper than a yell, letting the air in your lungs deflate as you let your feelings out. You roll over onto your side when you’re done, halfway tempted to be done with it entirely and go back to bed when you catch sight of the nightstand drawer, slightly ajar. The amber bottle of liquid stares right at you.

You open the drawer some more, picking up the bottle and looking at it as you wonder if you’re actually going to do this. But you’re ridiculously horny, and tired, and you know you’re gonna have trouble falling asleep in the state you’re in- so you end up spraying the smallest amount on your pillow.

It’s…nice. The pillow is warm from where you had been laying on it, and despite how strong men’s cologne could be, this one isn’t quite so striking. At least, not in the amount that you used. You relax back into your bed, pressing your face into the pillow and laying there for a moment. You start thinking about Logan… His calloused hands running across your skin. How his lips and tongue would feel against your own, trailing down your body to your breast. Your hand trails down to your clit as you imagine it as his own. You imagine him behind you, pressing you to the bed as he growls into your ear. You think about what his happy trail would feel like against you. What his cock would look like, feel like, pressing into you. Your legs twitch and shake as you see stars underneath your eyelids, the scent of Logan hitting all the right parts in your head and going straight to your cunt.

Holy shit.

Your orgasm lasts what feels like forever. Your legs are still shaking as you whimper from oversensitivity and pull your hand away, panting as you try to catch your breath. You haven’t cum that hard since… ever. Maybe the cologne was worth it, after all.

You felt really good the morning after. You found yourself humming in the shower, more energized at breakfast and morning drills. No one had said anything, but you knew there were a few who were relieved to see you back to your usual self. If anything, the only person you noticed acting very differently around you was Logan. He was more tense than normal. He scowled a lot, spending less time in your presence. You’d strike up a conversation that would only last a few minutes before he would make an excuse and leave. It made you a little disappointed. But you knew him and knew he had good and bad days, so you brushed it off at first. But a week, two weeks- almost a month went by, and still no change. You felt scorned almost, silently rejected by the guy you had finally realized you were practically in love with, and to be honest, the only man who could get you off just by thinking about him- and boy, did you get off while thinking about him.

You’ve almost resigned yourself to the fact that Logan wasn’t interested when he corners you one morning. He’s leaning up against the wall of the hallway, waiting for you when you step out of your room. It makes you jump a little, closing your door quickly behind you, knowing damn well you hadn’t washed your sheets after fucking yourself to the moon and back last night and fully not wanting the smell to hit his nose. All Logan does is narrow his eyes. Shit.

“Who is he.” He asks you. The question completely derails your train of thought. And you furrow your brow, confused. What was that about?

“Who is he? Your guy?” He asks again, but it does little to clear up your confusion. You’re halfway wondering if he’s being serious at this point, stepping away from your door as you cross your arms.

“What?” You ask. Logan huffs when you respond to him, cocking his head at you in a way that's more sarcastic than curious. The way he’s looking at you is doing some things that you don’t think you’d like to admit, eyes narrow and scrutinizing as you struggle to keep eye contact with him.

“What do you mean? What guy?” You repeat back to him, starting to get a little frustrated. He snorts, rolling his eyes as his scowl lingers. He steps closer, looking down at you from less than a foot away with that angry stare.

“Don’t play stupid with me, sunshine. I can smell him on you.” You ignore the way the nickname makes you shiver a little bit, too busy shrinking into yourself when you process the extent of his words. Smell. He could smell someone on you. Something. Oh god, this was embarrassing.

“Oh! That- It’s not what you're thinking!” You say, face flushed red. You’re flustered beyond belief, doing your best to convince him to leave it be, and it’s not going so well for you.

“Sure it’s not.” Logan huffs. He starts to take steps forward, closing in on your personal space.

“It’s not. I can promise you that.” You’re anxiously fiddling with your fingers now, taking a step back for every step he takes. He looked predatory, unlike any time you’ve seen him before. You haven’t even seen him like this in the danger room, even less so on the battlefield.

“Just tell me who he is.” Logan is adamant about it, his scowl beginning to turn into a frown. Your back hits your door, kickstarting your heart in surprise. You hadn’t realized he had backed you up so far.

“I can’t!” You say, in the beginning stages of becoming absolutely exasperated, and already incredibly embarrassed.

“Why not!?” Logan Snaps, stopping just inches away from you. You cover your heated face, pressing your palms into your eyes until you see shapes, wanting nothing more than to curl up and die right then and there.

“Would you just leave it!” You shout, but Logan’s having none of it.

“No, I won't!” Logan grabs your wrists and moves them away from your face, holding them in front of your chest with a grip lighter than you might have thought. You groan in utter frustration and mortification, looking him dead in the eyes as your angry mouth starts speaking before your reasonable brain can fully catch up.

“Jesus Christ Logan! Do you expect me to just whip out the silicone and show you?!” Your eyes widen as soon as you say it, slamming your mouth shut as you finally catch up with yourself. Logan is staring at you in absolute shock, jaw almost slack at the confession.

“...What?” He asks, slowly. You wince, looking off to the side before deciding it's a bit too late to get the cat back into the bag.

“Its… Cologne. What you’re smelling. I use it to uh, help me…” You make a sort of gesture with your head, praying that you won’t actually have to spell it out for him. He’s still in shock as he looks at you, hands frozen with his fingers wrapped around your wrists. He clears his throat when he comes to, an unreadable expression on his face as he slowly steps forward again, close enough to press his forehead against your own as he presses you against your door.

“You’re that pent up, you need cologne to help you get off?” He asks, and you don’t know what to say, cat catching your tongue as he leans forward. The side of his face brushes against your cheek as he leans down a little, the action making your skin prickle. One of his hands releases a wrist to slide up and across the back of your neck, tilting your head to the side as he takes a big sniff of your skin. He’s practically nuzzling you, angling his head so that he can smell the scent on the back of your head where you rest against your pillow at night.

He’d noticed it before, at night when most of his anger had worn off, sometime after he started to pick up the scent on you. The undertones, the top notes. But now with you this close, he can tell that it wasn’t another man he was smelling. No. It was just you. Your scent being drowned out by the smell of something that he could finally tell smelled rather suspiciously like his very own aftershave.

“...Don’t tell me that you wanted it to smell like me.” He asks after a moment. You almost flinch at the sound of his deep rumble, turning your red face away from him. You swallow, feeling like you are absolutely burning up as you nod- right as Logan catches the unmistakable scent of arousal.

“Fuck”

You’re sure the sound was more animal than man as he cups your cheek rather aggressively, pressing his lips against your own in a rather desperate kiss. It takes you a second to return it, eyes wide as you process just what was happening. It didn't take long for you to melt into his desperate kisses though, every nip and brush of his teeth just like you imagined it would be. He presses his knee in between your thighs, finally releasing your other wrist to grab ahold of your hip instead. You accidentally let out a whine when he grinds your hips against him, your heart beating so fast you were sure it was going to explode. He curses again at the sound, both hands sliding around you to lift you against the door.

You practically squeak in surprise, the noise caught by Logan’s mouth on your own one more time before he trails down to your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin. You gasp as he presses against you, his hips beginning to grind against your own. You’re having a hard time thinking, biting your lip as you do your best to stifle your sounds.

“Logan-ah, can we… head inside, please?” He only grunts in response, shifting your weight as you both begin to fumble for the doorknob. He gets it before you do, hardly stumbling as the door behind you swings open. He’s kissing you again before the door is even closed, kicking it behind him. As preoccupied as you are, you at least have the common sense to reach over and try to lock the door before he carries you over to the bed.

He plops you down onto the mattress before he crawls over you, eyes half-lidded and just as lustful as your own. He pushes you down as you try to sit up. His breathing a little hard, pupils dilated to a size you had never seen.

“Now I know why you closed the door so fast,” Logan smirks, having picked up the lingering scent of your sex on the sheets right away. You open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off. His tongue snakes into your mouth, and you find that you can’t really remember what you were going to say anyway. He kisses you again and again, distracting you as he reaches above your head. He pulls away when he has the pillow in hand, and you know just by the look on his face that he knows exactly what he is holding.

“Hate to break it to you, but this doesn’t exactly compare to the real thing.” He snarks. It makes you laugh, and for the first time in a while, you see a genuine smile spread across his face.

“Yeah.” You respond, taking the pillow from his hands and tossing it to a far-off corner. “I know.” You could revel in his smile for as long as he’d let you. Logan’s kisses start off sweeter this time, at least for a moment they did. They begin to become more and more rough as hands start to wander and clothes start to come off. His shirt is first to go, your hands running up and down the hair that spans his torso. Logan is quick to remove your shirt and bra in one go, one very small step away from cutting off your clothes entirely. He gives himself a minute to appreciate your breasts, pinching and teasing you by sliding a hand up the middle of your sternum, the back of his hand brushing the side of a tit as he watches you squirm underneath him, arching your back to push your chest out, practically begging him to finally touch you.

“Patience is a virtue, Sunshine.” Logan says, causing you to scoff. You glare at him a little and all it does is make him chuckle a bit.

“Don’t be mean.” You whine. He laughs a bit harder as he finally lowers himself to your chest. He keeps his eyes locked on your own as he brushes the blunt ends of his teeth across the soft skin, but he’s never been the most patient man. It doesn't take him long to give in to you, sucking on each breast individually, massaging the soft skin of the opposite as he does so.

“Careful.” He growls when your own hands begin to wander, touching him over the fabric of his jeans. He releases your nipple with a pop, bearing his teeth as he presses his face back into your neck. You don't pay much mind to that, rather enjoying the grunts and sounds he makes as you slowly stroke his covered hardness from base to tip. You can't imagine how restrained he must be feeling. You can’t help but smirk a little as your hands drift up and down, before oh So slowly unbuckling his belt. Logan is agitated, practically bucking his hips into your hands to get you to just get over with it.

“Patience is a virtue.” You quote, only earning a restraining hold on your hands once again.

“Fuck that.” Logan growls. He holds you by your wrists, pushing them above your head as he uses his free hand to remove his belt and frantically unbuckle his pants. You'd be complaining if it weren't for the view of his straining cock, slapping against his abdomen as he pulls his pants down.

You don't get to stare for too long before he flips you on your stomach like you weigh nothing. He lets your wrists go to pull down your shorts and underwear, a sticky string of your slick thinning as he pulls the items down.

“Fuck. You're this wet from just that?” Logan asks you, taking two fingers and sliding them through your lips from behind, spreading his fingers to let himself see the mess you've made of yourself already.

“...shut up.” You mumble, more focused on the feeling of those very same fingers sliding back and forth across your cunt, the tips just barely brushing against your clit every time. Logan chuckles, sliding one hand under your lower stomach to lift your hips with ease. Your hips buck as he slides a thick finger inside of you without warning, slowly sinking down to his knuckle with ease.

“Might not even need foreplay at this rate.” Logan rumbles behind you, eyes set squarely on the sight of your pretty pussy spread wide open for him. You can only moan in response as he pulls it back out again, plunging a second finger into you this time. Your hands clutch the sheets as Logan begins to finger fuck you to his content, curling those thick digits to hit that one spot juuust right. You try not to buck or squirm too bad, halfway wondering if this is all just some wet dream.

“Logan-” You call out for him through your moans. He only hums in reply, preoccupied at the moment.

“I- god- I need your cock, please.” You're not sure if it was the phrase or the begging, but it makes Logan groan. You feel embarrassingly empty as he pulls his fingers out. You hear the sound of him stroking his hard cock with your slick, groaning and humming to himself before he picks you up. He leans over you, adjusting to you your hands and knees as you finally feel that thick, thick cock grinding against you. You gasp at the way it feels, feeling Logan smirk against your back.

“Having second thoughts?” The tone of his voice is teasing, but you know there's more than that behind the words. You vehemently shake your head, grinding back against him a little as you protest. Logan swears under his breath, holding onto your hips to keep them still as he sits up.

Both of you groan each time the head of his cock catches on your clit, Logan thrusting through your lips again and again as he lubes himself with the wetness you provide for him. You gasp when his head catches on your slot, notching just right.

Logan pushes into you so slowly, and you feel like he's thicker than you ever imagined he would be. You're impatient, desperate. You push back onto him in an attempt to take him in more, but his hands on your hips stop you.

“Believe me sweetheart, you don't want that yet.” Logan tells you, straining himself with how tight you feel around him. He soothingly rubs his thumbs against your skin, pressing into you until you have him completely, balls deep inside you.

“Please, please. Logan, Please, I need you to move.” Your begging starts to sound like nonsense to your own ears, but it makes Logan gasp all the same, his cock twitching from where it's buried inside of you. You practically cry in relief when he finally begins to thrust Inside of you.

His hip smack against your ass with every thrust, the sound of the slap mixed with the sounds of your love and the headboard hitting the wall a lewd and filthy symphony. Even better than your own moans were Logan's himself. Each and every groan and growl above you gave you a whole new array of things to imagine while fucking yourself- if you ever had to do so again.

You whine and whimper with every strong thrust, Logan slow and forceful with every movement. It felt like he wanted your insides to memorize exactly how his cock feels inside of you, and you doubt you'd ever mind it. He filled you perfectly, hitting every sweet spot inside of you.

Your arms are shaking. Struggling to hold yourself up with each and every rock of the bed. You barely start to buckle when He catches hold of you, an arm snacking under your chest and pulling you towards him. His hand spans your collarbone as he holds your back against his chest, holding you up as he continues to fuck you like no one before. You're closing in on that sweet release when his hips stutter a moment. His teeth dig into your shoulder with a sharp bite, holding you there close to him without breaking the skin.

“Are… are you -ah- close?” You ask. Logan only responds with a short and simple - “Fuck!” - before he pulls out of you.

You don't have time to whine about the emptiness before he's flipping you around, kissing you again as he pushes your back to the bed rather aggressively. He's quick to sling your legs over his arms, folding you in half as he sides fully into you in a single thrust. He's hitting you so much deeper in this position, chest pressed against your own as his thrusts continue to stutter.

Logan kisses you again, a bit differently than the last ones have been. These kisses are tender, sweet. A stark difference between his needy, frantic thrusts. There's a line of spit between you two as he pulls away, half-lidded eyes meeting your own. You’re closing in on your peak, and you can tell he is too. The pleasure is too much for you to handle at once, and you can't help but squeeze your eyes shut.

“Look at me.” Logan grabs a hold of your chin, your eyes flying open as he thumbs at your lip and holds your head still. “Don't look away.” His hips stutter some more, the both of you groaning as you clench around him, desperately trying to keep your eyes open as you finally cum around his cock. The fluttering of your walls are more than enough to send Logan over the edge, his cum warming your insides in thick spurts. Logan buries his face into your neck, groaning as you ride out both of your orgasms.

The two of you lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath. Logan lets go of your sore legs, massaging your thighs as he presses sweet, comforting kisses to your cheek and temple. His hands wander up and down your sides, doing his best to soothe your aches without you even having to ask. -not that he would ever admit to having a soft side. Who would believe you if you told them that The Wolverine was a cuddler after sex anyway?

“Why didn't you just tell me?” You ask after a long moment. Logan hums, his Face tucked into the crook of your neck.

“Tell you what?”

“That you were jealous.” Logan only snorts at that, playfully pinching your side.

“Jealous of what? Your cologne?” He returns. You slap him on the shoulder as he chuckles at you, unable to stop the playful smile on your face.

“You mean the cologne that you thought was a whole-ass guy?” Logan stops at that, instead choosing to cover your mouth with his palm as he tucks his head closer.

“You're a lot prettier when you're quiet. You know that?”

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notmyneighbor · 6 months

Text

Let Me in ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 3

Word Count ~ 2.5k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ blood and gore, body horror, character death, minor violence, dubious consent, sexual content

Also available on AO3

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

You sit on the side of the bed that had once belonged to Francis Mosses.

The comforter and top sheet have already been pulled down. You lean over to slide out of your low heeled pumps, tucking the pair of navy leather shoes neatly under the bed.

There’s a bible on the nightstand. A worn looking copy. Beside it a glass with a shallow amount of water resting in the bottom, the remnant of a late night attempt to quench thirst, perhaps.

The doppelgänger watches your movements. How methodical each action is. Slow and deliberate. You’re stalling.

He settles beside you and the mattress creaks as the springs are compressed. That odd sort of shimmer you’d noticed earlier outside the security booth outlines his frame for a brief moment. A surge of light and color as the skin ripples before settling. They still weren’t completely able to disguise what they were. All hope was not lost.

Your own fate, however, seems sealed. You lie down slowly, carefully. You feel as if you are laying yourself to rest in your own coffin. Turning your face ever so slightly to see if there is any trace of the man that had once slept here, some lingering scent or an indent from his face. Nothing but the fragrance of clean linen. The imposter moves as if to join you but you halt him, your fingers closing over his forearm. Your first time touching him and not the other way around. “Take your shoes off.”

The creature snickers, glancing down at the scuffed oxfords he’s wearing. Overdue for a shine. “What possible difference does that make?”

“It’s respectful. You never put your shoes where someone sleeps.”

“He won’t be sleeping here ever again.”

You inhale sharply, wincing. “Please just do it.” You can’t say why you’re so hung up on this. Only that it seems the right thing to do. A small thing in a sea of wrongs that you’re clinging to like a life preserver.

“Fine.” He acquiesces, bending to unlace them. There is no care in his actions. Just brisk, impatient pulls to undo the knotted ties. Then he is lying beside you. Your heads sharing the same pillow. Francis only used a single one, apparently. Preferring to slumber lying with his head and neck rather flat. You always used two fluffy pillows, minimum.

You can hear the sound of music starting to play, emanating from the resident’s apartment next door.

Mia Stone, perhaps. The blonde teacher who was Dr. Afton’s fiancée. You instantly recognize the musical artist crooning through the walls: Billie Holiday.

I say I'll move the mountains

And I'll move the mountains

If he wants them out of the way

You would have loved to play this record for Francis. You envision trying to dance in the cramped space of the living room, twirling around in his arms. “Did he really like my fragrance?” You know the creature could lie, of course. He’d say anything to manipulate you and get what he wanted. But you have to ask. Your heart won’t let you avoid the query.

The dark eyes of the pretender regard you. You detect no malice or dishonesty there. “Yes,” he says simply.

You close your eyes, sighing. “What else did he like about me?”

“Your smile, gifted once you were certain it was really him. The way you covered your mouth when you laugh, making some little relieved joke when you passed his identification and entry request back to him each day. The strands of hair that came loose around your face as the day wore on into late afternoon when he returned from his route. The—”

“—Stop. Please.” Tears well in your eyes. They didn’t sound like the kind of details the deceiver would create on his own. There was a note of truth to them. Genuine recollections. He truly was all that remained of Francis Mosses. A man that had been fond of you. You could have been with him, if only you’d been a little braver.

“You asked me to tell you.”

“I know. It’s just overwhelming.”

Like the wind that shakes the bough

He moves me with a smile

“Your kind is so fond of music. Your milkman was always humming. I don’t see the use for it.”

The your wrenches your heart. He wasn’t yours. Never would be. “It’s a way to expression emotions. When words alone aren’t enough.”

“Hmmm.” He reaches out and you flinch. “Why are you fighting this so hard? This is what you wanted.”

“I didn’t want Francis to die.” You pause, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Why do you want this?”

”Curiosity. An experiment of sorts. There has never been a union between our kind. Not of this nature. A desire to know what it feels like. To see what might result.”

You shudder. An experiment. Using you like some kind of animal for breeding. A mere whim.

He reaches again and this time you force yourself to hold steady, your chin lifting with a short jerk of defiance. Your hair is his goal. Tucking it back behind one ear. Maybe something the milkman had wanted to do. There’s a sudden softness in the doppelgänger’s eyes. As if the human he’d once been was peeking through at you. You find yourself melting again, your defenses coming down.

I say I'll care forever

And I mean forever

He moves closer to you. Inching over across the white fitted sheet. A thumb strokes away one of the tears that has escaped its prison. He captures the other from the opposite cheek, bringing it to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the droplet. “Salt,” he says, recognizing the mineral.

He kisses you.

You’re not sure if it’s better to think of the man you had loved or not. Was it dishonoring his memory or was it a way to keep him present in some vague capacity? There’s no clumsiness this time. He knows the feel of your mouth. The way to shift against you. Tongue mapping past smooth cheeks and dragging along the carpet of muscle at the base of that maw. Maybe it was better to pretend this was Francis after all. You cup the back of his neck, fingers teasing the edges of his milk chocolate tresses. Curling slightly on the ends. It would be time for a trim soon. Would have been. The illusion you’ve created is crumbling again. Your lips falter, your hand dropping away.

Crazy he calls me

Sure, I'm crazy

Crazy in love am I

“Sweetheart,” the invader murmurs, tasting along your jaw, your neck. “I like the way you smell.” Speaking for himself, not Francis. You hear the sharp intake of air. The hand that had been casually laid across your shoulder slides down until it reaches your breast, gently kneading that globe through the layers of your bra and blouse. “Does this feel good?” His voice is octaves lower than you’d ever heard from the milkman. Slightly raspy and sultry, not unlike the singing voice that permeates through the wood and plaster behind the bed. You don’t dare answer, merely whimpering a little and he seems to take this as an affirmative response.

His hand leaves your breast and finds the top button of your shirt. Always sensible, pure white, part of the uniform standard the company requires. Another threaded plastic disc is pushed through the hole. He works his way down until all those that are exposed have surrendered, the remainder still tucked within your skirt. His fingers part the edges of the fabric encasing your torso, peeling them back to reveal the white satin brassiere beneath. He caresses you briefly through this slick material before tucking inside the cup until he brushes across your areola. Your nipple peaks beneath his ministrations as his lips move back to yours. He is surprisingly gentle, lightly pinching and rolling the aroused tissue. Your body betrays you, responding to the creature’s touch. You should be ashamed, disgusted. Instead you find yourself wanting more.

“Off,” he murmurs impatiently, plucking at your bra before his hand departs your chest. You struggle to sit up and he allows it, watching you pull your blouse free from your skirt and unfastening the cuffs before sliding it off your arms. With a swift gesture borne of long practice you easily pinch and release the hook and eye closures resting along the center of your spine, the cups immediately folding down over the underwire, the straps drooping over your shoulders.

The doppelgänger assists you now, sliding the brassiere off the rest of the way, exposing your chest to him. Your cheeks are pink, flushed like the nipples he’s toying with again, his head bending to suckle at one and a lick of flame sears your core. This is part of the invasive species’ learning process, you think. Taste as important as touch. His mouth moving not with the sole purpose of your pleasure in mind, but as a means to explore flavors and textures. Cataloguing. More of humanity’s secrets unveiled.

There is a song you don’t recognize playing next door now. Muffled voices. You’d had no idea the walls were so thin. Francis had never complained.

You’re shoved back down onto the pillow. His mouth wanders, back up to sample a collar bone, the hollow at the base of your throat, then dips in between your breasts and tastes the skin of your abdomen. You wonder if he can detect the floral soap you’d bathed with that morning, the traces of lotion you’d applied during your hygiene routine.

“I like this,” he says, his breath warm on your body. “You’re so soft. Smooth. Not like…I’ve never taken…” It had often been debated if there were sexes in their species. How they propagated. There was still so much unknown. Was there a reason he’d only chosen men to replicate? Was it simply because he was male himself? You could not explain how you knew it, but there was something distinctly masculine about him. Authoritative. Blunter than a woman would be. A lifetime of being raised to respect decorum had been firmly ingrained in you. Society valuing a woman who knows her place. Taught to be demure, deferring to the wisdom and guidance of their male counterparts. Serving and obeying, like you’re doing now.

The imposter returns his attention to your face. Licking your mouth back open. He likes this, you think. All of what you’d shared thus far, but perhaps the kissing best of all.

The background melody silences and you think you detect the front door opening and closing. You wonder if the couple will be going out to an early dinner. Curious when they find there is no one guarding the building. But not alarmed. Not yet.

Your skirt is being lifted, polyester dragged upward after the copycat’s hasty reach downward to gather the hem. Immediately sliding back down, stroking over your exposed thighs that are clad in nylons that stop midway across each of your upper legs. Nothing fancy, just utilitarian features in a shade of nude slightly more tanned than your own complexion. He nudges against the seal you’ve created by pressing your legs close together. “Let me in, sweet girl.” An echo of what he’d said earlier in an attempt to gain access to the building, now seeking entry into you. You feel your limbs parting for him nearly as promptly as you’d opened the door.

The pretender works his way back up to the fork of your body, teasing along the crotch of the white panties. You gasp and he smiles against your lips. His palm drags over the fabric until his fingers find the elastic waistband and he dips beneath it, running overly the neatly trimmed hair on your pubic mound, following the curve of that padded flesh until your sex is palpated.

Another gasp and a moan escapes you. “So wet,” he remarks, fondling the pink lips, parting the petals with his middle finger to slide through the slick arousal your body is creating, working the lubricant up and down, passing over the hooded nub and then delving back towards your entrance, where more fluid escapes.

It feels good and yet it doesn’t, his fingers too rough and just shy of where you need him. You squirm and wince at the harsh handling of your clitoris and he pauses, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Show me. Show me how you like to be touched.”

You reach down cautiously, guiding his fingers to one side of your sensitive bud, lightly pressing and rolling a fingertip so that your clit is ground slightly against the bone beneath. Alternating now, reaching back down to gather more of your slick before spreading it over that hooded button, a few direct strokes applied before beginning the process again. He replicates your actions and your body responds immediately, a hum of pleasure heating you. You close your eyes and you think of the milkman, the real one, with his kind smile and his tired eyes.

“Francis.” The name escapes your lips and you freeze, the rocking motion of your hips against the imposter’s hand abruptly ceasing. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Alarmed by how easily you’d allowed yourself to give in to the desire, accommodating this make believe passion.

“It’s alright, love. It’s me. I’m here.” His tongue laps at your ear, at the sensitive patch of skin behind it. You shiver and resume grinding against his fingers, letting yourself be deluded once more, your hand curling over his forearm.

“Francis,” you say again, hoping he can forgive you, in whatever form he now occupies, if he is saved as his faith professes he would be, finding redemption and peace, somewhere far from your sinning body that writhes in pleasure from his murderer’s touch.

You push against his hand and he allows it, applying force against the hollow cavity that leads to your womb. “Let me in,” he breathes, and you feel a finger invading your body, shoving through the narrow confines of that muscular tunnel. Withdrawing and spearing again, the digit saturated with your arousal. You moan and lift your pelvis to meet him. Curling inside, massaging that dip of spongy tissue. Crooking each time he enters as if he is leading you forward, beckoning, his thumb drawing circles over your clit. You feel as if you’re on the edge of a chasm, teetering on the rim, about to drop forward into heat and darkness. Keening now. Thighs tremoring violently. Your face turns and your teeth sink into the pillow. “There you go, love. Give it to me. Give in to me.”

The coiling pressure within you snaps and you find release at last, the fabric clenched in your teeth doing little to muffle the sound of your orgasm. You’re drenched in sweat, the aftershocks of your appeased nerves still sizzling through you. The doppelgänger cradles you through all of it, holding you as you ride the waves that exhaust your limbs, making you feel boneless and limp.

“Francis.” It’s a yearning plea, a futile prayer, answered by the thing that is not him, but masquerades as such, crooning to you, whispering false promises, draping you in synthetic affection, a lie you want so desperately to believe.

#thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #milkman #francis mosses x you #francis mosses x reader #milkman x you #milkman x reader #doppelgänger

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hyunniesgirl · 7 months

Text

Can I be your favorite?

Pairing: Lee know x reader

Genre: smut, fluff

Summary: Lee Minho is unreachable, someone you can only just dream of being with. Until one day, you enter the wrong door at a party and ends up with him inviting you to sit on his lap.

Part 2

THIS CONTENT IS +18 ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: corruption kink, protected piv, fingering, Minho is kinda possessive.

You're okay with not being popular, it's not like you'll be like that forever, it's just college and in a few years everything will be forgotten so you just keep living your life, going to your classes and hanging out with your best friend.

The only time you ever wish you were popular, though, is when you see him. Lee Minho. The guy of your dreams. He's vice president of the greatest fraternity on campus, so everyone knows him.

Lee Minho is someone mysterious, no one knows much about him other than that he changes girlfriends faster than he changes clothes. So more than half of the girls in this university already had their heart broken by him.

That doesn't make you like him less though, it's not like something will ever happen between you two so a little crush on him is not something to worry about, even more so when he doesn't even know about your existence.

Your best friend, Jihyo is the opposite of you, she likes partying and she always tries to drag you to one of her nights out. That's how you ended up in the situation you're in right now. Alone in the kitchen of a frat house, listening to a drunk guy teaching you about your own major, while sipping on a drink you're not even sure about the contents.

You watch as a group of people play beer pong on the counter in the middle of the kitchen, everyone is sweating and there's alcohol being spilled all over the place. You're at a safe distance but you pity the person who's going to clean this up later on.

You have no idea where Jihyo went, she told you she was going to the bathroom half an hour ago and never came back. You're tired of hearing this guy too, he's talking about first year contents when you're already in your third year.

“That's so interesting”, you smile at him, “but I have to go find my friend now”, you don't let him say a word, quickly sneaking away from the kitchen.

You look around, trying to find your best friend, but she's nowhere to be seen. Maybe she's on the second floor, you ask people and they tell you exactly where the bathroom is. However, you shouldn't be so quick as to trust drunk people.

Because when you open the door people pointed out as the bathroom, you find a room with red lights brightening the dark space.

There's a bed in the middle of the room and in that bed there's a couple and that couple happens to be Lee Minho and someone you have no idea who it is. They are luckily not in a compromising position, not making out or something worse. She's just sitting on his lap, having her giggles stopped by the bright light that comes from the door when you open it.

Your eyes grow wide when Minho looks at you with his fierce unfriendly eyes.

“Hm- I'm- sorry, I thought this was the bathroom”, you smile sheepishly, fidgeting on your feet.

Minho looks at you up and down and you swear you can see a smirk forming on his lips, but you're not sure since the light is not great.

“I guess the sign with my name on the wall is not very visible”, he points out dryly, making your face turn red. Great, that's great. Nice way to be humiliated by your crush, y/n.

“I apologize, I really didn't see it”, you say again. You should already have gotten out of there but for some reason it seems that your feet are stuck on the ground.

“Honey, why don't you go downstairs, I'll talk to you later”, Minho says to the girl on his lap, making her groan in frustration. She gets up, angrily walking past you. “You should close the door if you're going to stay”, he tells you and your feet finally move just enough to be able to close the door with you still inside.

“Do you know where the bathroom is?” You ask like an idiot.

“I live here”, he says obviously, “but I don't think you're still looking for the bathroom”, he grins, seeing you lick your lips. “Why don't you come and take a seat?”

Your legs move on it's own once more, giving slow unsure steps in his direction. You sit on the edge of the bed, watching him carefully as he leans back, supporting his upper body on his hands, arms spread on the mattress.

He stares at you, surprised. Minho chuckles, shaking his head.

“That's not what I was talking about”, he tells you, landing his hand on his thigh and tapping there. “Why don't you try sitting here?” He asks.

You feel your whole body turning hot, why is he asking for you to sit on his lap?

“I-I should get going”, you stand up fast, but before you can walk away he takes a deep breath.

“Are you sure that's what you want?” Minho tilts his head, waiting for your answer.

No, that's not what you want. You really, really want to sit on his lap and let him do anything he wants with you. So you give in to your desires, stepping closer to him and bending down to sit on his thigh.

He bites on his bottom lip, watching you fidgeting and trying to get comfortable. By the way you're stiff, it's obvious you have never done this before and that gets him excited.

He corrects his posture, sitting with his chest close to you. One of his hands lands on your left thigh and the other goes to your waist.

Minho doesn't need to waste another second to find out that he likes you. You're just his type, shy and reserved, someone who he can corrupt. Someone who can make him go absolutely crazy.

“You see, I see the way you look at me”, he says, caressing your back with the hand he had on your waist. “Jihyo is not very quiet and every time she catches my attention you're there and every time I look at you, you're looking at me”, he says, like he's saying something you don't know. “After some time I just came to the conclusion that you may like me. Am I right about that?”

You nod automatically, like you're obligated to tell him the truth. Maybe your brain just doesn't work when you're near him.

“Hmm”, Minho hums, “tell me then, what can you do for me?”

“W-what do you mean?” You manage to ask, getting goosebumps with every touch of his.

“I mean to say, why should I choose you? I have a great number of options”, he smirks. He's teasing now, even though he's already set on making you his, he just wants to hear your answer.

You have so many things to use at your advantage, pretty lips that he wants to kiss, soft skin that he wants to leave marks all over and the sweetest voice that he wants to hear crying his name while he fucks you so deeply you'll beg him to keep going.

“Anything”, you gulp, “you can do anything you want with me, I'm entirely yours”, and that is better than anything else he could hear. That is the last straw.

Minho puts his hand behind your neck, pulling you to him and kissing you in a hungry, hot kiss. He grabs your hair with the other hand, pulling a handful and making you groan with the sudden pain but it's still so good. His tongue brushes on your lips, entering your mouth and slightly caressing yours. The way he's grabbing you is just too much, you feel like you're going to explode at any moment.

Minho lets go of you for a moment just to take his shirt off, showing you his bare chest. He gets back on grabbing you, pressing you against his body. You're not sure if this is right but it definitely doesn't feel wrong.

You take your crop top off, throw it on the floor and pray that Jihyo will forgive you for doing that with her clothes. Wrapping your arms around Minho's neck, you kiss him again, feeling his bulge beneath you.

He sneaks a hand down your stomach, unbuttoning your jeans and pushing your panties to the side as soon as he manages to reach your soaking cunt.

Minho presses a finger on your clit, you stop the kiss just to gasp and he pulls away, staring at you while he inserts a finger between your folds.

“Has anyone ever fingered you?” He whispers, listening to your low moans, you're cute trying to hold back.

You open your eyes to look at him, shaking your head. That's beautiful, he gets even more excited to know he's the first one giving you pleasure like that.

“And what about sex, have you had it before?” He asks one more question, pushing his finger in and out of you.

“A-a few times”, you struggle to say, feeling your cheeks hot.

“That's good, virgins aren't really my thing”, he smirks, “then, you can handle one more finger, right?” He asks, not waiting for your answer and pushing in another finger inside of you.

“Oh”, it's the only sound you can make. You hold him harder, with your mind dizzy. “It's too much”, you sob, feeling the stretch, it burns a bit but it's so good.

“Oh, Kitten”, he pouts. “How are you supposed to handle my cock if you can't handle two fingers? I'm bigger than that”, he smirks while saying that.

“I can do it, I can”, you nod frantically, too drunk on the pleasure of his fingers inside you to think straight.

“I'm glad you're confident”, he takes his fingers out of you and takes them to his mouth, liking every drop of your juice. “Your taste might be my new favorite”

He helps you get up, your legs are weak even though you didn't cum. Minho helps you lie on the bed, pulling your jeans down, trailing kisses down your legs while dragging out the fabric.

“You are pretty”, he mutters, taking off his pants and underwear, crawling back to stay on top of you, kissing your chest and your collarbone, biting on the skin and leaving a couple of hickeys there. Minho goes down your breasts, sucking and licking your nipples, kneading at the other with his hand. He's humping on your leg, rubbing his hard cock on your thigh.

His touch makes you feel like you're on fire, tingling sensations spreading all over your body. His kisses leave you so turned on, you don't think you ever felt this horny.

“Kitten”, he calls you, making you blush. It's crazy to think that even though you two are naked in front of each other, him calling you a pet name is what makes you flustered.

Minho gives you a peck on the lips, leaning over to the bedside table to look for a condom. He opens the package with his teeth, spitting the piece of plastic and stroking his cock on hand.

He looks so good, standing on his knees in between your legs, eyes closed feeling his fist caressing him.

“Let me do it”, you take the courage to say, sitting and taking the package out of his mouth into your hands. Minho watches you attentively as you grab the base of his cock, sliding the condom down his length.

“Fuck”, he murmurs, grabbing your face on his hands and kissing you so hard you can taste blood, not sure from which of you.

Minho positions himself in your entrance, looking at you to wait for your consent and when you nod he pushes in. You wrap your legs around his hips, trying to bring him closer even though it hurts a bit, it's so good you think you will go crazy.

“M-minho”, you moan, throwing your arms around his waist, digging your nails on his skin.

“Shit, you're perfect”, he starts moving, each trust making you moan louder. Your walls are squeezing him so deliciously that he can cum at any moment. His cock feels so good, reaching all the places you didn't even know existed.

Minho kisses you, fucking into you so fast you can barely breath. You never thought he could be even more beautiful, hair stuck on his sweaty forehead, eyes staring intensely at yours, bottom lip stuck between his teeth while he fucks you senseless. He leans closer, kissing your neck, leaving a long and a bit painful mark there.

“You're mine now”, he smiles shakily, clearly close to his release. You can feel your orgasm approaching too, cumming and tightening your legs around his hips, making his release follow yours.

Minho gives you a kiss before falling to your side, breathing heavily accompanied by you. You don't know what to say and you're scared he'll pretend this was nothing so you get up, collecting your things, not waiting for him to kick you out.

“What are you doing?” He asks, scowling.

“Getting dressed so I can get out”, you explain naively, being watched by him like you're the prey and he is the predator.

“What part of “you're mine now”, you didn't understand?” He asks, laying down with an arm beneath his head and the other stretched to the side of the bed, waiting for you to lie there. “Come back here, I'm not even nearly done with you”, he smirks, watching you blush again.

You drop the clothes you have collected, crawling back on the bed and snuggling close to him. Minho pulls you closer, turning to you and wrapping his free arm around your waist.

“I'll tell you what we're gonna do”, he explains and you nod, “I'm going to fuck you until the only thing you can remember is my name and after that I'll take you out to dinner”

Lee Know presses his body on yours, showing you that his cock is already hardening again and you giggle, blushing once more.

Never have you felt so happy to trust drunk people's instructions.

A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 7 days

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Since you've mentioned Scarlet Lady in one of your posts, what's your opinion on it?

I've mentioned before that I'm a big Scarlet Lady fan, which is the only reason that I'm comfortable answering asks like this one. I don't publicly criticize the content of hobby creators. That's wildly inappropriate! Punch up, not down.

The linked post was a general discussion of the adaptation process and how @zoe-oneesama did a fantastic job, so for this one, I'm just going to do some general gushing because I do actually like praising and enjoying things!

Scarlet Lady's chosen format (comic) allows it to have this wonderful conversation with canon where it can rely on the framework of canon to tell it's own story while also using canon for jokes and meta commentary. This means that Scarlet Lady is about as close as fan content can get to a direct reboot because it's able to have moments like this one from the comic's first post:

[Image description: Adrien standing in his room after transforming into Chat Noir for the first time. He is beaming and his eyes are shining with excitement as he exclaims, "This is gonna be awesome!"]

A single picture that communicates everything we need to know about Adrien getting his miraculous. When I've done this same thing in fanfic, I had to write out the full scene because that's how novels work. You have to give the full picture. With a comic, you can just quickly acknowledge this thing that we all already know and then move on to the new stuff. A picture really is worth a thousand words! (Or, in my case, more like two thousand...)

This allows Zoe to keep the same akumas that we get in canon without her story feeling like a boring rehash because she can focus on what's different in her version. A novelization of the same content would have to show both the stuff that stays the same and the stuff that changes for it to be coherent. That's a lot less fun to read and write. It's why I basically never revisit canon akumas in my own stuff. It's just too derivative for the written word.

This is one of the big reasons that I loved Scarlet Lady. Because it was able to have that more directly conversation with canon, it was able to take canon and say, "hey, why don't we embrace the tone that you established in season one and retell the story with that vibe?" That's something that I desperately wanted to see, but that is totally unsuited to my chosen artistic form. It couldn't be a novel. It had to be a comic.

If you want to know what a true formula show version of Miraculous would look like, Scarlet Lady is it. It does everything that Miraculous should have done:

Sticks to a lighthearted tone where nothing is ever super serious

Keeps Gabriel entirely unsympathetic

Has slow character development and background hints at a bigger plot as the only serial elements, allowing the individual episodes to be their own story while never feeling incomplete or rushed

Allows characters other than Marinette to shine while keeping Marinette as the clear main character

Makes Adrien narratively important

MAKES THE LOVE SQUARE CUTE SO I CAN ACTUALLY SHIP IT

Understands that Lila and Chloe can't coexist as antagonists

Reverses the love square, which is the best way to tell their story. Yes, I will die on my "love diamond" hill. It's a good hill. Come join me. I'll bring cookies.

I could keep going, but you hopefully get my point. While Scarlet Lady is certainly not the only way to do a formula version of canon, it's proof that a formula version does work! You don't have to go the serious route for Miraculous to be successful.

I want to take some time to gush about the ending, but I don't want to spoil it, so I'll put that gushing under a "read more" in case anyone hasn't seen it. I'll finish out this less spoilerish section with this:

I feel like some people are surprised when they learn that I love Scarlet Lady because - as some of you have probably picked up - it is quite different from my ideal version of canon. I'm not sure why that would stop me from enjoying a thing, though. It's important to remember that our personal ideals are not the only way to tell a good story. There are lots of ways to take what canon gave us and make something wonderful! It's part of the reason that I enjoy being in a fandom.

If I only wanted to see my ideal take on canon, then I'd stick to writing/imagining my own stories. But I don't want that! I like seeing alternate takes, too. Scarlet Lady is one of my personal favorites. It's completely different from anything that I'd ever think to write and that's why I'm so glad that it exists! I like being entertained just as much as I like creating my own entertainment and I don't want to only read stories that look like something I'd write. That's boring!

Spoilers below:

I've mentioned before that there are many, many ways to properly handle Chloe's character and Zoe did such a good job with her take on that! Chloe isn't absolved of all the things she did wrong, but she's also treated as a young woman with the ability to change.

While the comic bares the name of Chloe's alter ego, she was the never the main character. She never went on a journey. The story kept her to her shallow season-one self: a petty brat who just wanted attention. It did this because that's who Chloe was in canon and who Chloe needed to be for the comic to work.

The first time we see any complexity from Chloe is in the comic's final few episodes, which was absolutely the right call for Zoe to make! In a recent post, I talked about how the end of a formula show is the only time when you can break the formula in catastrophic ways and that's what Zoe did. She kept Chloe static until it was time to end the story and that's when the formula breaks. That's when Chloe gets depth because, once she has depth, the formula doesn't work.

That depth is not used to redeem Chloe, but to show us that there's hope for Chloe. That this petty brat who we've been dealing with has some serious issues and needs help. Help that she's going to get far away from the people that she's hurt because her issues aren't an excuse for what she's done. They don't erase the harm that she caused. At the same time, understanding her issues makes us hope that she can be better now and Scarlet Lady took a moment to give us that hope. To show us the START of Chloe's true story.

That is the kind of ending that I have wanted to see in so many properties!!! It was so wonderful to finally get one that did this right. A story that understood that full redemption to the team and damnation to death/suffering are extremes on a scale of possibilities. You don't have to go to extremes! You can fall in the middle and the middle is a perfect, natural place for Chloe to land in this kind of story. Fully redeeming or even fully damning Chloe simply doesn't work in lighthearted formula content. It's too big a lift as canon has already demonstrated.

I also loved Zoe's take on Emilie. I've mentioned that I don't like evil Emilie in part because it makes her revival feel like the start of a new story. She's back and she'd bad, so we have to take her down now! But I don't want that. I want the story to end when Gabriel is stopped. Zoe does this by giving us an Emilie that is another perfect middle ground. She matches canon's uncomfortable implications without feeling like a true villain who is a threat to society.

#blackmonarque #scarlet lady praise #scarlet lady comic

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eddiesxangel · 11 months

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If you ever felt like it, would you be cool writing reader and Eddie; their best friends and they both perv for each other but never show it and she was invited to DND and she needs to rush to the bathroom to literally rub one out and Eddie silently makes his way to see what you’re up to

Just Friends |Perv!EddieMunsonX Perv!bestie reader

AN: I made it modern just to make it more pervy! hope you enjoy :) ps. If you see any typos no you didn’t 🤫

WC: 3.2k

It’s been almost a year since you and Eddie became friends, you’ve been inseparable since. You and Eddie first met when you were sleeping over at Nancy’s and Eddie was over for a DND session. You had literally run into Eddie, you smacked your face into his chest as you rounded the corner, in your pyjamas no less. You gave an awkward giggle and introduced yourself. You didn’t really recognize him, your lunch periods weren’t the same and he wasn’t in any of your classes. But fate swooped in, and due to that fated night everything changed.

Eddie was struck by you the second you crashed into his chest. He had seen you occasionally with Nancy in the halls but never could come up with a good excuse to approach you. He thought you were cute, like really fucking cute. So cute to the point that when you did actually touch him (by accident) he popped a boner the second your sparkling eyes looked into his for the first time. Lame, he knows. He couldn’t believe you had this visceral reaction over his body, but all he could think about was your lips, how they moved when you spoke his name and how you smiled at him. Eddie was absolutely screwed, and he had to do something about it he just didn’t know how. So when you finally approached him at Mike’s one day he seized his one opportunity. Turns out you were really fucking cool, on top of being really fucking cute.

Eddie wanted to spend the most amount of time with you that he could. He was always asking to hang out one on one. His favourite would be when you would ask him over to your house. He loved being able to have access to all things you. The first time he was invited over he couldn’t believe his luck. In the midst of your hang out, you had to take a phone call in the hallway and you left him alone in your room. Eddie felt like a creep the first time but he had to know. He found your underwear drawer, it was filled with soft cotton and lace. His eyes almost popped out of his head when his hands found your red lacy thong. Pocketing it and slamming your drawer ship when he heard you giggle goodbye.

The second time Eddie was left in your room you told him you were going to take a quick shower, leaving him to his own devices for a least ten minutes, he saw your book on your nightstand, it had a cutesy little cartoon cover, very girly, he was planning on mocking you when you got back in because who reads romance novels? He opened up to where your bookmark was, and his eyes bulged open when he saw what exactly it was you were reading

His strong hands gripped my bare hips as he pinned me down to the bed. His fingers travelled down to my soaked pussy, slowly and agonizingly circling my sensitive clit. I begged for more but he only laughed, "Only good girls get what they want" he whispered and I ground my hips up into him the best I could, but his hold was too much. "Please' I begged. "Please Sir I will do anything, I want your cock so bad, I promise I'll be a good girl." I cried. He was torturing me...

Eddie could not believe his eyes, he had no idea you were so dirty. His best friend had another side to her that he had yet to see, that he would literally sell his soul to see. Oh to hear you say those dirty words to him that he had just read. He popped a boner just thinking about it. He hadn't time to fix it so he grabbed your cow squishmallow to put on his lap when you re-entered the room in nothing but your pink bath towel. You were literally going to be the death of him.

You loved when Eddie would come over, but you also loved being in Eddie’s space. Being consumed by all things Eddie, the decor, the smell, the comfort of being surrounded by him. Eddie let you into his home anytime and all the time, it didn’t matter if he wasn’t home yet, you knew where the spare key was, he texted you he would be home in 40 minutes so you let yourself in and hung out until he got back.

You walked into Eddie’s room and the urge to snoop was growing. You didn’t know what you were looking for until you found it. Stashed under his mess of clothing was Eddie's laptop. Your hands couldn’t move fast enough to the search history. Luckily for you, he was dumb enough to be logged into everything automatically. You didn’t care that this was wrong, yet you wanted to know if he had been talking to anyone. You hadn’t seen him romantically attached to anyone in the almost year you’ve been just friends. You're sure he would tell you. However, the jealousy gremlin was nipping at your ear; telling you to keep going.

After being unsuccessful at finding any dirt you continued through the search of his laptop and found a particularly interesting bookmark. You knew this was so wrong and he probably would never forgive you if he found out but you had to know what Eddie was into.

You clicked on the link and a porn website opened. The video was of a woman solo touching herself, and using very racy language about what she would do to the watcher. It was much different than what you consumed when you were to indulge yourself, but it was starting to turn you on as you examined the naked woman spread out in front of you. Thinking about Eddie and what he would be doing while watching this…in this bed you were sitting on, naked, touching himself to her sexy words. You thought about how big he would be, how those delicious fingers would grip himself. You often found yourself dazing out while staring at his thick ring-clad fingers. Especially when he would practice guitar, and how quickly he could move them without missing a note. Your mind drifted and you found yourself lying down in Eddie’s bed.

Trailing your hands down underneath the waistband of your jeans, you brought a worn t-shirt that was thrown on the bed up to your nose, it smelled so strongly of Eddie. Your fingers teased your clit edging yourself as you pretended they were your best friends. You thought of how it would be to have him on top of you, how it would feel to have his cock slip past your entrance. You hummed his name quietly over and over until the slam of the screen door made you jump and you snapped out of your bliss. You quickly exited the screen and slid the laptop under the pile of clothes that rested atop the bed before Eddie entered his room.

A bright smile struck his face when he saw you there sitting in his bed. He was oblivious to what you had been doing seconds earlier. Eddie's mind spun with the scenarios he imagined the both of you in, preferably naked. He never divulged these fantasies, of course, he couldn’t have you finding out about what a perv he was for you, or else you would never let him near you again.

Tonight Eddie invited you to watch in on Hellfire because you told him Nancy had a date and you had nothing to do this Friday night. You’d never attended before, you were always busy with Nancy. So when you showed up to game night you didn’t know what to expect. Eddie tried so many times to explain the game to you but you never really understood, there were too many rules and you’d always zone out as you watched his plump lips at work. Day dreaming of them on your lips, or on your neck, or on your pussy.

You walked up the the Wheeler household feeling a bit strange that you weren't here to see Nancy. You were let in by Mrs. Wheeler who was on her way out with Mr. Wheeler for a very rare date night.

"Hey guys" you greeted the group as you made your way down to the basement.

“Hey, cutie" Eddie greeted back with the biggest smile on his face.

It truly was a mystery to the others how the both of you weren't picking up one another's signals. You saw Mike roll his eyes after Eddie spoke but you took it like he didn't was his annoying sister's friend here to ruin their ritual. Little moments between you two were clear as day to any onlooker but to the both of you, you were oblivious. Too blind to see the signs because you’ve convinced yourselves that the other one would never share the same feelings.

You had settled in sitting on the couch behind the DND table so you could give them space without crowding around. Eddie was directly facing you so you could see everything but still do your own thing.

As the night progressed you’d been so turned on by Eddie’s performance. The passion that filled him, the way he deepened his voice, the gaze in his eyes as he described the frightening scenes that played out for the club members. Everything that you lusted for from Eddie was heightened by 100 tonight. Eddie had such a hold over you that he didn't even know about.

You crossed your legs trying to focus on the tiktoks you tried distracting yourself with however they were not helping because it had been a bunch of thirst traps and sexy excerpts from romance novels. Yes, you were on Booktok and no you were not ashamed of being an avid smut reader.

Since the distractions were not working and the throbbing between your legs was becoming unbearable you needed to excuse yourself, and quickly. You barely mumbled that you needed the washroom before sprinting to the main floor to find some peace in the powder room.

You shut the door so quickly you may have accidentally slammed it which altered Eddie's even more. He was worried about you. You'd been squirming on the couch looking very uncomfortable, and then you ran out of there like a bat out of hell. He knew he needed to see if you were okay, maybe you had gotten your period or something?

Eddie walked up the steps and called out your name but there was no answer. As he rounded the corner he noticed the light coming from under the closed bathroom door. He walked closer and heard your muffled voice but couldn't make out the words. As he approached the door he almost knocked but froze halfway when he heard your voice loud and clear.

"Eddie please" you moaned. Eddie couldn't believe his ears because there was no way this was happening...until you did it again.

"Fuck me please, Eddie right there!" you gasped. Your clit had been throbbing the whole time you’d been downstairs you couldn’t help but relieve it. You were silently watching the secret video you had taken of Eddie while he was commanding the game. It has turned you on so much, and watching it back was even better. Eddie didn’t know what to do. But he had to think quickly because his time was limited. He hesitantly knocked on the door and cleared his throat before he spoke. “ uhhh are you alright right in there?” he stuttered out his words. The knock on the door scared you. You let out a small scream as you ripped your hands away from yourself and up to your chest feeling your heart pounding. How much had Eddie heard? How much does he know you don’t think you’re being that loud? Where are you? Oh shit, maybe you were?

“Uhhh I’m-I’m fine Ed’s” you managed to stutter. Oh my god, you were mortified. The handle of the door giggled like Eddie was trying to come in. “Come on sweetheart open the door I really need to come in,” he continued on jiggling the door until you unlocked it. Eddie needed to seize this moment. He was never going to have another opportunity like this.

“Eddie I-” You didn’t finish your sentence because Eddie had cut you off with a kiss as he cupped your face while backing you into the opposite wall. “You’re such a little pervert. I know what you think about now when you want to touch yourself, do you think about me and what my fingers can do to you huh?” Eddie broke away from the kiss and started kissing down your neck. All of this was so sudden. You had no idea that this was going to happen when you had left the basement. “I’m not a pervert!” You defend yourself. “No baby? So if I took your hand and sniffed these fingers I wouldn’t smell your pussy all over them?” he cocked his brow. “And I didn’t hear you moan my name twice just now?” He hummed. You had never heard Eddie speak like this, not even in your wildest dreams did you think he had such a filthy mouth. “You want me, baby? I heard you and your dirty words through the door. Do you want Eddie to make you feel good? Can’t get off without me? That's it huh?” Eddie’s cockiness was only making you wetter. “Fuck Eddie I need you I have needed you for so long. Please touch me.” You gasped as his plump lips sucked the delicate skin of your neck.

“Could have just asked baby, I would give you the world” His hand grazed up your leg to the open zipper of your jeans until his calloused fingers found the waistband of your baby pink panties. Your breath hitched as he found his way into your pants, brushing over the short hair of your mound to your slick wet slit. “Oh oh oh baby,” he chuckled darkly “you’ve been hiding this from me? I don’t think you deserve me to touch you, you’ve been very naughty. Tell me, baby, you always get this wet for me? What other dirty things do you do when I’m not around?” Your mind was numb with pleasure as Eddie slowly made contact with your pussy lips. He was being so mean like he was punishing you, grazing everywhere but your clit. “Fuck. Eddie please” you beg girding your hips up into his fingers to get some relief.

“I don’t think so sweetheart” you’ve been a very bad girl. “Have I? You try to spit back. “I recall you stealing my favourite pair of panties. Don’t play innocent Munson. I found them in your room yesterday.” You chide.

Eddie kissed you to shut you up. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth as you moaned in pleasure. Your slippery slick coated Eddie’s fingers as they prodded their way up into your tight hole. “Oh, Eddie!” You sighed. “Fuck say my name again” he growled.

“Eddie!” You moaned throwing your head against the wall. His fingers were so thick. He really knows how to work his fingers. “That’s it scream my name” his cocky smirk hasn’t left his face. All disregarding everyone downstairs, you didn’t try and keep quiet. Eddie watched your chest heave as your breasts raised and fell. His free hand scaled up your shirt over your bra. His hands explored your breasts and he pulled down the cup to free you. His hands worked your nipple and your clit. The way his fingers felt exploring your body only made the feeling in your core build and build. Eddie dipped his head to take your perked nipple in his mouth. You arched your back into him and his warm tongue latched onto you. A soft “Eddie baby” slipped from your lips as you were washed away with the feeling of everything Eddie. You were getting so close so fast, you had already warmed yourself up and Eddie was here to take all of the credit. Not that you’re complaining but the coil in your core was being wound up so tightly you need for it to snap. “I'm so close! please don’t stop.”

“Oh, so you are a good girl who knows her manners, go on then, on cum for me baby”

Eddie kissed the sweet spot on your neck while playing with your nipple with one hand and your pussy with the other. Your senses were on overdrive and you were bumming from his words. Your body shook and your release dripped down Eddie’s fingers. A few seconds later after you come down from your high you realize that he was having all the fun and you haven’t touched him yet. You graze your hand down his stomach, to the button of his black jeans. You quickly moved your fingers to unbutton and unzip his pants. You slide down the bathroom wall and get on your knees in front of Eddie. He gathered your hair in his hands and you pulled out his cock. “You’re complaining about me hiding from you when you’ve been holding out on me this whole time?” You don't hesitate. You start making out with the base of his cock moving your way up to the tip. You coddle his balls in one hand and use the other to tease the tip of his red cock. “Fuck” Eddie sucks in a breath. You continue to worship his cock. How could you not? It was so pretty, long and thick, and slightly curved to the right. Hearing Eddie whimpering above you was music to your ears. You loved the feel of the weight of him on your tongue. You swirled your tongue on his tip taking in the taste of his precum before sliding down his length to the hilt. His pubs tickled your nose but you ignored that as you hummed onto his cock. You bobbed your head up and down. It was messy and it was loud.

“Baby fuck fuck fuck if you keep going like that I’m-” Eddie couldn’t finish his sentence before he came down your throat. The hot thick liquid ran hot down your throat. “Shit I’m sorry I’m sorry” he panted as you continued to suck him dry. Humming in satisfaction. Eddie finally loosened the grip of your hair as you pulled back and opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue to show him you’d swallowed it all. Eddie’s eyes went wide, he hadn’t expected you to be so filthy, just for him. He pulled you back up by your hair to stick his tongue down your throat. A giggle left your mouth and he pulled away.

“We are so doing that again” he breathed.

A pounding on the bathroom door made you both jump.

“We get it you guys are disgusting! Let's get back to the game please!” The sound of Lucas’s angry voice came from the other side of the door. You could practically hear his eye-roll. Eddie and you burst out laughing “Come on baby, the Dungeon Master needs to finish up and then I will be seeing you later for more” Eddie left you in the bathroom, flushed and more than satisfied. You couldn’t wait for him to finish that sexy little game.

2K notes · View notes

yoursweetwife · 8 months

Text

Synopsis: you were sure of the excellence of your cooking, and you didn't want to throw it away due to lack of hunger, so you decided to feed the Ratio.

Warning: the reader is an excellent cook, fluff, friends to lovers, professor!reader, I'm sure that Ratio hates cooking, I won't change my mind.

There are three things that most infuriate Ratio.

Idiots.

When his phone is bursting with calls and messages.

Cooking.

It's not that Veritas doesn't know how to cook, he knows a couple of recipes, is smart enough not to burn down the kitchen, the cooking process itself irritates him.

However, too often the Ratio instead of the usual dinner or breakfast drinks a cup of coffee or eats a hastily prepared salad. Even at work, he rarely took a lunch break and locked himself in his office, the food in the dining room did not attract him at all, so attempts by other colleagues to invite him to have lunch together were ignored.

On one of those days, you decided to go up to him and treat him to your food. You didn't have an appetite today, and you don't want to just leave one of the best dishes you've ever cooked.

When everyone left for lunch, you walked into his classroom and briskly walked up to the workplace of Ratio.

At the sight of you, the scientist stopped putting things away and looked at you.

Because of the plaster mask, you couldn't see his expression, but you can tell from his friendly voice that he doesn't mind your presence.After all, you are one of the few whose mind Veritas has recognized as almost equal to his own. It became a catalyst for your friendship.

"Professor [Surname], what brings you to me? You usually have lunch with other people at this time."

He sat down on the chair again, holding the book in his hands, waiting for the moment when he could open it.

"Enough of these formalities, we're alone," a smile lit up your face and you quickly groped for the food container in your hands. - and about lunch..."

You held out the box and looked expectantly at Ratio, who didn't even move.

"I'm not hungry today, so I want to give this to you."

"So give it to someone else."

You puffed out your cheeks and made the saddest look, trying to convince Veritas. At such moments, he did not understand what he found interesting in your childish behavior. Nevertheless, he was attracted to it.

"I want you to try it. I swear, it's very tasty and healthy! Ratio, you won't regret it."

The scientist sighed in amazement and put the book aside. No matter how strong his desire to refuse, it was pointless to resist you.

"So be it, I'll try it."

You smiled gratefully and held out your hands to Veritas. When Ratio's hands touched yours, he couldn't help but feel the warmth from them.

"Fantastic, then you can share your impressions. - you looked at your watch and exclaimed in amazement. "Oh no, I still have to prepare for the lesson!"

Waving goodbye, you left his office, leaving Ratio alone with your "gift".

The smell of freshly cooked food filled the empty room as if it had been cooked just today.

Even the plaster head couldn't stop the smell from spreading through his body.

It looked and smelled just great, for such a clumsy person like you, such filigree and neatness was just incredible.

Ratio winces at the memory of your workplace. He still doesn't understand how you can sort out all those papers and appliances on your desk.

"You can't tell the quality of food by the smell alone."

Soon the mask was left on the table, next to documents, books and tests for students.

The first piece and...

The soft texture of the meat began to delight his taste buds from the very first minutes. The golden eyes widened with an all-encompassing sense of pleasure.

It was the most delicious meal he had eaten in a while. His pride won't allow him to admit it out loud, no, admit to himself that he doesn't mind eating it every day.

Ratio didn't even notice how empty the container was. He mentally scolded himself for his lack of restraint and pushed the container aside.

His eyes ran over the lines of the book, reading the text, but his thoughts were about something else, the students should come soon, which means that he has very little time.

A smile formed on Veritas' face. Perhaps he should also be hinted that he doesn't mind at all if you bring him your cooking every day.

#Dr Ratio #hsr x reader #female reader #dr ratio x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #dr ratio fluff #dr. ratio x reader #fem!reader #I have a lot of problems with English

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23victoria · 1 month

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off the table

pairings: lewis hamilton x fem!reader

word count: 13k

warnings: SMUT (wrap it before you tap it), toxic relationship, cheating, miscommunication, cussing, best friends to lovers, idiots in love, mentions of educational burnout, semi-double pov

authors note: listen to off the table by ariana grande ft. the weeknd 13k words is insane to me, this is the most i’ve ever wrote, i had so much fun writing this honestly, i pray it’s not shit…cause that would be embarrassing, ignore any typos please, also a little self indulgent (not all the way, trust)okay i’m done, hope you enjoy!!

want to be tagged in my works?! CLICK HERE

f1 masterlist 1k celebration

You met Lewis when you were just seven years old. It was a typical summer day, the sun high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the park. You were new to the neighborhood, shy and unsure of yourself, clutching the handles of your bike as if it were your lifeline. The other kids seemed so confident, racing around on their bikes, laughing and shouting as they sped down the dirt paths. You stood on the sidelines, watching, wishing you could join in but not quite brave enough to take the first step.

That's when you noticed him—a boy with wild curls and a bright smile, his bike skidding to a stop in front of you. "Hey, do you want to race?" he asked, his voice filled with enthusiasm. You hesitated, glancing down at your bike, then back at him. He must have sensed your uncertainty because he grinned and added, "I'll go easy on you, I promise."

Something about his easy confidence made you smile, and before you knew it, you were racing side by side with him, the wind whipping through your hair as you pedaled as fast as you could. You didn't win—Lewis was too fast for that—but it didn't matter. For the first time since moving, you felt like you belonged.

From that day on, you and Lewis were inseparable. Every afternoon after school, you'd meet at the park, racing your bikes until the sun dipped below the horizon. He told you about his love for karting, his eyes lighting up as he described the thrill of speeding around the track, the roar of the engine in his ears. You didn't understand it entirely—karts seemed like a bigger, scarier version of your bike—but you loved listening to him talk about it, the way his passion seemed to pour out of him.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

As the years went by, your friendship with Lewis deepened. You became each other's confidants, sharing your dreams and fears late into the night. You told him about your dream of becoming a doctor, and he listened with the same intensity he showed on the track. In return, he confided in you about his aspirations in racing, how he wanted to be the best, to make his family proud.

There were moments, though, where something unspoken lingered between you—moments where his gaze seemed to linger a little too long, where his touch seemed a little too tender. But you never noticed, too caught up in your own world to see the way his feelings for you were evolving.

One day, when you were both fourteen, you were sitting in your room, studying for a biology test. Lewis had come over to help you with your homework, but you ended up talking about everything except schoolwork. "Do you ever think about the future?" you asked, lying on your bed with a textbook open in front of you.

"All the time," he admitted, glancing over at you. "I think about racing, where I'll be, who I'll be with."

You smiled, oblivious to the hint of something more in his words. "I bet you'll be famous," you teased, nudging him playfully. "I'll be able to say I knew you before you were cool."

He laughed, but there was a wistfulness in his eyes. "What about you? Where do you see yourself?"

You shrugged, turning your attention back to your textbook. "Hopefully in med school, maybe even Harvard if I can get in. Saving lives and all that."

There was a pause, and when you looked back at him, you saw something flicker in his expression, something you couldn't quite place. But before you could ask, he smiled and said, "You'll get in. I know you will."

You didn't know it then, but that was one of the many moments where he almost told you how he felt. But your casual mention of Harvard, of a future that seemed so far from his own, made him hesitate. How could he confess his feelings when it seemed like your dreams were leading you in opposite directions?

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

When you were sixteen, Lewis's karting career began to take off even more. He was spending more time at the track, traveling for races, and you were busy with school. But despite the distance, you stayed close, texting each other daily, finding time to hang out whenever he was home.

One evening, after one of his races, he invited you to a celebratory dinner with his family. You were honored, knowing how important these moments were to him. As you sat across from him at the table, laughing and talking with his family, you felt a warmth in your chest, a sense of belonging that you couldn't quite explain.

After dinner, as you walked back to your car, Lewis caught your arm, stopping you. "Hey, can we talk for a minute?" he asked, his voice unusually serious.

"Of course," you replied, a little surprised by his tone. You turned to face him, and for a moment, you just stood there, looking at each other in the dim light of the streetlamp.

He seemed to struggle with his words, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. "I've been meaning to tell you something," he began, his voice low. "It's just... we've known each other for so long, and you've always been there for me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled, completely missing the deeper meaning behind them. "You're my best friend, Lewis. I'll always be there for you, no matter what."

He looked down, a slight frown tugging at his lips. "Yeah, best friends," he repeated, his voice softer now. "But what if—"

Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, interrupting the moment. You pulled it out, glancing at the screen, and saw a text from a boy in your class that you'd been talking to. "Sorry, it's just Josh," you said, quickly typing a response.

When you looked back up, Lewis's expression had shifted, the vulnerability from moments before gone. "No worries," he said, forcing a smile. "I just wanted to say that I'm really proud of you. For everything."

You felt a pang of guilt, sensing that you had missed something important, but you pushed it aside, giving him a quick hug. "Thanks, Lewis. That means a lot."

As you drove home that night, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. Meanwhile, Lewis watched you leave, the words he had almost said hanging heavy in the air. He had been so close to telling you how he felt, but your mention of Josh had stopped him. How could he compete with someone who was already making you smile in ways he only dreamed of?

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

As you started high school, you started dating Josh. He was sweet, attentive, and everything you thought you wanted in a boyfriend. Lewis, ever the supportive friend, smiled and encouraged you, even as his heart ached every time he saw you with someone else.

He watched from the sidelines as your relationship with Josh blossomed, always there to lend a listening ear when things got tough. And when Josh broke your heart, leaving you devastated just before prom, Lewis was the first person you called.

"I can't believe he did this," you sobbed into the phone, your voice thick with tears.

"I'll be right there," Lewis replied without hesitation. Within minutes, he was at your door, pulling you into a comforting embrace. He held you as you cried, his hand gently stroking your hair, murmuring soothing words into your ear.

"You deserve so much better," he whispered, his heart breaking alongside yours. "Anyone who can't see how amazing you are doesn't deserve you."

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Why can't all guys be like you, Lewis?"

He smiled sadly, wishing he could tell you that he would never hurt you the way Josh did, that he would cherish you and make you feel loved every day. But instead, he just said, "Because they're not smart enough to realize what they have."

In that moment, you realized how much you had taken Lewis for granted, how he had always been there for you, even when you didn't deserve it. But you still didn't see the depth of his feelings for you, too caught up in your own heartbreak to notice the way he looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

When it came time to apply for college, you were determined to go to the one with the best medical program, whether it was Harvard, Yale, Duke, or John Hopkins. You had worked so hard throughout high school, dedicating countless hours to your studies, extracurriculars, and volunteer work. It was your dream, and you weren't going to let anything stand in your way.

Lewis, on the other hand, was focused on his racing career. He had already been scouted by several teams, and it was clear that his future was on the track. You were both proud of each other's accomplishments, but there was an unspoken tension between you as the reality of your diverging paths began to sink in.

The day you received your acceptance letter from Harvard was bittersweet. You were overjoyed to have achieved your dream, but the thought of leaving Lewis behind filled you with a sense of loss. You had always imagined that you would be there for each other through everything, but now it seemed like your lives were pulling you in different directions.

"I got in," you told Lewis when you saw him later that day, your voice filled with a mix of excitement and sadness.

He smiled, pulling you into a tight hug. "I knew you would," he said, his voice proud but tinged with something else. "You're going to do amazing things, Y/N/N."

"But I'll miss you," you admitted, your heart aching at the thought of being so far away from him.

"I'll miss you too," he replied, his voice quiet. "But we'll stay in touch, right? It's not like we're never going to see each other again."

You nodded, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Of course. We'll text and call all the time. And I'll visit whenever I can."

He smiled, but there was a sadness in his eyes that you couldn't ignore. "Yeah, we'll make it work."

As the summer passed, you and Lewis spent as much time together as possible, trying to make the most of your remaining days before you both went off to pursue your dreams. There were moments of laughter and joy, but also moments of quiet reflection, as you both grappled with the reality of what was to come.

On your last night before leaving for college, you and Lewis sat on the roof of his house, staring up at the stars. It was a tradition you had started when you were kids, a way to escape the world and just be together in the silence of the night.

"I'm really going to miss this," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Me too," he replied, his gaze fixed on the sky.

You turned to look at him, your heart heavy with a mix of emotions. "Promise me we'll stay close, no matter what."

He finally looked at you, his eyes filled with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "I promise," he said, his voice steady and sincere.

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Lewis."

He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "You'll never have to find out," he said, his voice filled with a quiet determination.

As you sat there together, the weight of unspoken words hung between you, but neither of you said anything more. There was a part of Lewis that wanted to tell you everything—to confess his feelings, to ask you to stay—but he knew it wouldn't be fair. You had your own dreams to chase, and he couldn't ask you to give them up for him.

So instead, he kept his promise, supporting you from afar as you embarked on the next chapter of your life. You texted and called as often as you could, sharing stories of your experiences at Harvard, while he told you about his progress in racing. The distance was hard, but you both did your best to stay connected.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

College was everything you had hoped it would be. You excelled in your classes, made new friends, and even started dating again. But no matter how busy you were, there was always a part of you that missed Lewis. You missed the way he made you laugh, the way he could always make you feel better no matter what was going on in your life.

You visited home during the holidays, and every time you saw Lewis, it was like no time had passed at all. You fell back into your old routines, spending hours talking and laughing, as if the distance between you had never existed.

But there were moments when you noticed a change in him—moments when he seemed quieter, more reserved. You didn't think much of it at first, chalking it up to the stress of his racing career. But as time went on, you began to wonder if there was something more.

One night, during your winter break, you and Lewis went for a drive, just like you used to do when you were younger. The streets were quiet, the city lights reflecting off the snow-covered ground. You talked about everything and nothing, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence.

As you drove past your old high school, memories flooded back, and you found yourself laughing at the thought of how much had changed since then. "Can you believe it's been four years since we graduated?" you asked, glancing over at Lewis.

He smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Yeah, it's crazy how time flies."

You sighed, your smile fading as you thought about how much your lives had diverged since high school. "Do you ever miss the way things used to be?" you asked, your voice filled with a touch of nostalgia.

"All the time," he admitted, his voice quiet.

There was a moment of silence as you both reflected on the past, and for a brief second, you thought you saw something in his expression that made your heart skip a beat. But before you could say anything, he turned away, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

"I've been thinking," he began, his voice hesitant, "about how different our lives are now. You're at college, I'm racing in F2... it's like we're living in two separate worlds."

You frowned, unsure of where he was going with this. "But we're still friends, Lewis. That hasn't changed."

"I know," he said quickly, "but sometimes I wonder if..." He trailed off, as if struggling to find the right words.

"If what?" you prompted, your heart pounding in your chest.

He shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."

You wanted to push him, to ask him what he was really thinking, but something in his tone made you stop. Instead, you just nodded, deciding to let it go.

As the night wore on, you found yourself growing more and more frustrated with your inability to understand what was going on with Lewis. You had always been able to read him like a book, but now it felt like there was a wall between you, something unspoken that neither of you could break through.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

The next few years passed in a blur of classes, exams, and racing events. You and Lewis remained close, but the distance between you became more pronounced as time went on. You both pursued your dreams with a single-minded determination, but in the process, you began to drift further apart.

There were moments when you wondered if you had made the right choice, if maybe you should have stayed closer to home, closer to Lewis. But every time you thought about it, you pushed the thoughts aside, telling yourself that you were doing what you were meant to do.

Lewis, on the other hand, struggled with his feelings for you more than ever. He watched from afar as you continued to excel in your studies, as you dated other people, as you lived a life that seemed so different from his own. But he never stopped caring about you, never stopped being there for you whenever you needed him.

And though he never told you, he knew deep down that he would always love you, even if you never felt the same way about him.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Your life took a different turn when you least expected it. You had always been focused, driven, and passionate about becoming a doctor. The years of studying, the late nights in the library, the relentless pursuit of knowledge—it all felt like it was leading you toward a future you had envisioned since childhood. But as time went on, something inside you began to shift.

It started subtly at first, a creeping sense of exhaustion that no amount of sleep seemed to cure. The long hours in the lab, the constant pressure to excel, the never-ending cycle of exams and practicals—it all began to weigh on you. You could feel the burnout setting in, the stress gnawing away at your enthusiasm. You told yourself that it was normal, that every med student went through this phase, that it was just another hurdle to overcome. But deep down, you knew something was wrong.

Your friends noticed it too. They saw the dark circles under your eyes, the way you seemed to retreat into yourself, the way your laughter had become rare, replaced by a quiet, pervasive anxiety. One of your closest friends at the time, a fellow student who had always been attuned to your moods, suggested something radical: "Why don't you try something different for a while? Just to take the pressure off."

You were taken aback by the suggestion. "Like what?" you asked, genuinely curious. You couldn't imagine stepping away from your studies, even for a moment. But the exhaustion was so overwhelming that you were willing to entertain any idea that might offer some relief.

"Have you ever thought about acting?" your friend asked, a mischievous smile playing on their lips. "You've always had a flair for drama, and you're great at expressing yourself. It could be fun, and who knows? It might help you recharge."

The idea was so out of left field that you laughed. Acting? You had never seriously considered it. Sure, you had participated in a few school plays when you were younger, but it was always just for fun, never something you thought of as a career. But the more you thought about it, the more the idea intrigued you. Maybe stepping away from the rigid structure of medical school could be exactly what you needed. Maybe exploring a different side of yourself could reignite the passion that had been dwindling for medicine.

On a whim, you decided to give it a try. You signed up for an acting workshop, just to see if you had any talent or interest in it. To your surprise, you loved it. The freedom of expression, the creativity, the way you could lose yourself in a character and forget about the stress of your real life—it was exhilarating. For the first time in months, you felt genuinely happy, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

Encouraged by the positive experience, you started attending more workshops, getting involved in local theater productions, and even taking a few acting classes on the side. It was all just for fun at first, a way to balance out the intensity of your studies. But the more you immersed yourself in the world of acting, the more you realized how much you enjoyed it.

Then came the fateful day when everything changed. One of your acting instructors, who had been impressed by your natural talent, mentioned that a casting call was being held for a new movie. It was a big-budget production, with a well-known director at the helm, and they were looking for fresh faces to fill the lead roles. Your instructor encouraged you to audition, insisting that you had the potential to land the part.

At first, you hesitated. The idea of auditioning for a major film seemed absurd. You were a med student, not a professional actress. But something inside you, that same part that had pushed you to explore acting in the first place, urged you to go for it. What did you have to lose?

So, with a mix of nerves and excitement, you prepared for the audition. You worked on your lines, practiced your delivery, and did your best to channel the emotions of the character you were auditioning for. The day of the audition arrived, and you walked into the casting room with your heart pounding in your chest.

To your amazement, the audition went better than you could have imagined. You felt a connection with the character, a sense of ease in front of the camera that surprised even you. The casting directors seemed impressed, and you left the audition feeling a strange mix of exhilaration and disbelief.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

A few weeks later, you received the call that would change your life. You had landed the lead role in the movie. You couldn't believe it. This was supposed to be a temporary distraction, a way to relieve stress—not the start of a new career. But here you were, about to step into the world of professional acting.

The decision to accept the role was not an easy one. It meant putting your medical studies on hold, something that terrified you. You had worked so hard to get where you were, and the thought of stepping away felt like abandoning a part of yourself. But there was also a part of you that was excited, that saw this as an incredible opportunity, a chance to do something completely different.

You’re pacing your dorm apartment, the walls suddenly feeling too close, the air too thick. You can’t breathe. The call is stuck in your mind, you’ve been offered the lead role in a major movie—a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But the timing couldn’t be worse. You’re just a year away from completing your medical degree. A year. After all the sleepless nights, endless studying, and grueling rotations, it’s all so close to paying off. And yet…

You drop onto your bed, head in your hands, and your thoughts spiral out of control. What if you’re making a mistake? What if you take the role and regret it? What if you stay in medicine and never know what could have been? You feel your chest tightening, panic creeping in. You need to talk to someone. You need to talk to him.

Without thinking, you reach for your phone and press Lewis’s contact. As the phone rings, you silently beg for him to pick up. “Please, Lewis, pick up. Please, please, please…”

The call connects, and you hear a groggy voice on the other end. “Y/N/N? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” His voice is laced with concern, but there’s a hint of sleep still clinging to his words.

Your heart drops. You forgot. You completely forgot that he’s in Belgium for the race at Spa. You glance at the clock, realizing just how late it is over there. “Oh my God, Lewis, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I completely forgot about the time difference and your race tomorrow…”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says, his voice softening. “I’m awake now. Are you alright? What’s going on?”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the words tumble out in a rush. “I got offered the lead in a major movie, and I don’t know if I should take it. I’m just a year away from finishing med school, and it feels insane to stop now. But at the same time, this is such a huge opportunity, and I’m spiraling, and you were the first person I thought of to call.”

There’s a pause on the other end, and you can almost hear him processing what you’ve just said. “Lead role in a movie? Acting? You’re an actress? When did this happen?”

You blink, realizing you’ve never told him. Your heart sinks a little further. “Oh… yeah, I guess we haven’t talked in a while, have we?”

Silence hangs between you for a moment, heavy with unspoken words. “Yeah,” he finally says, the word carrying more weight than it should. “We haven’t.”

You clear your throat, trying to push past the awkwardness. “I was feeling burned out with all the studying, and a friend suggested I try something new to take my mind off it. I took an acting class, just for fun, but then one class turned into two, and before I knew it, I was hooked. And now… now I’m being offered a lead role in a movie. Crazy, right? How things change so fast…”

He exhales slowly, as if trying to absorb everything you’ve just told him. “Yeah… yeah, it is crazy.” There’s another pause, but this time it feels different—more contemplative. “Look, Y/N/N, I know this is a huge decision, and it’s not one you can take lightly. But I also know you. You’re not someone who backs down from a challenge. You’ve got this incredible intuition, this ability to know what’s right for you, even if it’s terrifying. If acting is something that excites you, something that makes you feel alive, then maybe it’s worth exploring. You’re not giving up on medicine; you’re just… taking a detour. Following your heart. And whatever you decide, I’ll be here to support you. I believe in you.”

His words wash over you, calming the storm inside your mind. You feel a warmth spread through your chest, easing the tightness that had gripped you just moments before. “Thank you, Lewis. I really needed to hear that.”

“Of course,” he replies softly. “I’m glad I could help.”

You smile, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “Good luck with your race tomorrow. I’m sorry again for disturbing you.”

“Don’t be,” he says, his voice tinged with affection. “I’m always here for you, no matter what. And thanks—I’ll need that luck.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, the kind that only exists between people who’ve known each other for years. You can almost picture him on the other end of the line, smiling that soft, reassuring smile of his.

“It’s really good to hear your voice,” you say, your tone almost wistful.

“Yeah,” he echoes, a hint of something unspoken in his voice. “It is.”

You close your eyes, letting the moment linger, not wanting it to end. But eventually, you know it must. “Goodnight, Lewis.”

“Goodnight, Y/N/N.”

The call ends, and you’re left in the quiet of your dorm room, the weight of the decision still pressing on you, but somehow, it feels a little lighter now. You sit on your bed, staring at the wall, thinking about the offer, about your career, but mostly about him—about how much you miss him, miss his voice, his presence in your life.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

In the end, you decided to take the leap. You paused your medical studies, packed your bags, and flew out to the film's shooting location. It was a whirlwind experience—long hours on set, learning the ins and outs of the industry, working alongside seasoned actors who had been doing this for years. It was challenging, but also incredibly rewarding. You discovered a new side of yourself, a side that loved the thrill of performing, the camaraderie of the cast and crew, the magic of bringing a story to life on screen.

When the movie was released, it became an unexpected hit. Critics praised your performance, calling you a "rising star" and predicting a bright future for you in the industry. Offers for other roles began to pour in, and before you knew it, you were being whisked off to auditions, meetings with agents, and photo shoots for magazines. Your life had completely changed, and you were caught up in the whirlwind of it all.

As your acting career took off, your medical aspirations took a backseat. You told yourself it was just temporary, that you would return to your studies once things settled down. But the more time you spent in the acting world, the more you realized how much you loved it. Acting allowed you to explore different aspects of your personality, to tell stories that resonated with people, to connect with audiences in a way that was deeply fulfilling.

But with success came new challenges. The pressure to maintain your newfound fame, the scrutiny from the media, the constant demands on your time—it was all overwhelming. There were moments when you questioned whether you had made the right choice, moments when you longed for the stability and sense of purpose that medicine had provided. But then you would step onto a set, feel the rush of excitement as the cameras rolled, and you would remember why you had chosen this path.

You also had to navigate the complexities of your relationships. Some of your friends and family were supportive, thrilled to see you succeeding in a new field. But others were skeptical, worried that you were throwing away years of hard work for a career that was far less stable and predictable. You had long conversations with your parents, trying to reassure them that you hadn't abandoned your dreams of becoming a doctor, that you were just exploring a different side of yourself for now.

And then there was Lewis. His racing career turned out to be everything you imagined it would be. He’s a four-time Formula 1 World Champion, and despite all the fame and glory, he always made time for you. He had always been your biggest supporter, no matter what you decided to do. But even he had his doubts. "Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked one day, as you sat together in your apartment, reviewing the script for your next film.

"I think so," you replied, uncertainty creeping into your voice. "I never expected this to happen, but now that it has, I can't imagine walking away."

He studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "I just want you to be happy, Y/N. Whatever that looks like."

His words stuck with you, a reminder of the person you had always been, the person you were still trying to figure out. You loved acting, but there was a part of you that missed the structure, the challenge, and the sense of purpose that medicine had provided.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

As your acting career continued to flourish, you made a promise to yourself: you wouldn't close the door on medicine entirely. The years of hard work and late nights studying had shaped you, and you were determined to find a way to honor that journey, even as new opportunities emerged in the entertainment world. It was during one of those opportunities that you first met Jensen. The encounter happened at a charity gala, an event you never imagined attending before your acting career took off.

You stood quietly in a corner, nursing a glass of champagne, your eyes scanning the room filled with celebrities and high-profile individuals. You had been invited because of your rising status in the industry, a status that still felt surreal at times. The room buzzed with energy, laughter, and the clinking of glasses, but it was Jensen’s presence that captivated you. He had an effortless charisma, a magnetism that drew you in from across the room.

Jensen, with his boyish charm and magnetic charisma, made his way through the crowd effortlessly. When his eyes locked onto yours, it was as if the world had stopped. He approached you with a confidence that was both alluring and intimidating.

"Hello beautiful, I'm Jensen," he said, his smile dazzling.

"Hi, I'm Y/N," you replied, trying to match his confidence but feeling your heart race.

From that moment on, your life transformed into a whirlwind romance. Jensen's world was intoxicating—red carpet events, glamorous parties, and moments that seemed too perfect to be real. He was attentive, always making you feel like the center of his universe. The late-night phone calls, surprise visits, and stolen moments of affection made you believe that you had found your fairy tale.

Your relationship with Jensen was the epitome of Hollywood glamour. Photographers captured your every move, and tabloids buzzed with stories of your romance. At first, the attention was thrilling. You felt special, adored, and on top of the world.

But as the months passed, the cracks began to show. Jensen's demanding schedule meant that he was often away on set, leaving you feeling lonely and neglected. The glamour started to fade, replaced by the harsh realities of a high-profile relationship.

Jensen's charm, which once made you feel special, started to feel suffocating. His possessiveness grew, and he began to dictate your choices. What you wore, where you went, who you spoke to—all became subjects of his control. At first, you brushed it off as his way of caring, but soon it became clear that his love was conditional.

The late-night arguments became frequent. Jensen's temper, once hidden behind his charming facade, surfaced. He would lash out, accusing you of not understanding his pressures and responsibilities. You tried to be supportive, to be the perfect partner, but nothing seemed to be enough.

You began to feel like a prisoner in your own life, trapped by the expectations and scrutiny of the public eye. The relationship that once made you feel alive now drained you of your happiness.

The turning point came one night when you discovered Jensen's infidelity. You found messages on his phone from a woman named Claire. The words were explicit, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Your heart shattered as you realized that the man you thought you knew had betrayed you.

Confronting Jensen was one of the hardest things you had ever done. He denied it at first, then tried to downplay it. But the evidence was irrefutable. The betrayal cut deep, leaving scars that would take years to heal.

Despite the heartbreak, you tried to salvage the relationship. You didn't want to believe that the fairy tale was over. You attended couples therapy, made compromises, and tried to forgive. But the trust was gone, and without it, the relationship was a shadow of what it once was.

The final straw came when another woman, Lisa, contacted you. She had photos and videos of Jensen with her, and she was threatening to expose them to the media unless you paid her a significant amount of money. You were truly at your breaking point.

The humiliation, the betrayal, and the constant pressure became too much to bear. You decided to expose Jensen and the women who had been involved with him. You gathered all the evidence, and with a heavy heart, you released it to the public.

The reaction was immediate and explosive. Social media was ablaze with shock and outrage. Jensen's image, once so pristine, was shattered. The world saw him for who he truly was—a man who had deceived and manipulated those closest to him.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Your phone buzzes incessantly on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with each incoming call, text, and notification. It’s been going on for hours now, ever since the news broke. The media is in a frenzy, and your family and friends are no different. Everyone wants to know if it’s true, if the rumors about Jensen’s infidelity are real. But you can’t bring yourself to face it. You’ve been lying in bed, numb and drained, staring at the ceiling as if you could will the world away.

Each buzz feels like a jolt, a painful reminder of the life you thought you had, the relationship you thought was solid. Jensen had been controlling, isolating you from everyone you cared about, but you never imagined it would come to this. The betrayal cuts deeper than you ever thought possible, and the pain is almost numbing in its intensity.

You roll over, burying your face in the pillow, trying to block out the noise, the world, everything. But then, amidst the endless stream of messages and calls, a name flashes across your screen that makes you freeze. Lewis.

You haven’t spoken to him in what feels like forever. Jensen had made sure of that, keeping you away from your friends, especially Lewis. But seeing his name now stirs something inside you, a mix of longing, relief, and an overwhelming sense of loss. You reach for the phone with trembling hands and answer, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. The words are stuck in your throat, your heart pounding painfully in your chest.

“Y/N/N?” Lewis’s voice is soft, laced with concern, and just hearing it makes the tears you’ve been holding back start to fall. “Y/N/N, are you there?”

“Hi, Lewis,” you manage to choke out, your voice cracking as you try to keep the sobs at bay.

“Y/N/N…” He says your name again, but this time, it’s different. It’s like he’s trying to reach out and hold you, even though you’re miles apart. “Where are you? I’ll fly to you right now. Just tell me where you are, sweetheart.”

You close your eyes, the endearment hitting you like a wave. It’s been so long since someone called you that with genuine care. “I just… I just want to be alone,” you whisper, barely audible.

“Y/N/N, no,” he says, his voice more urgent now. “You’ve been through so much, and I’ve been worried about you for the longest time. Please, don’t shut me out.”

“Lewis, please…” You’re crying again, harder this time, the words coming out between broken sobs. “I’m… I’ll be okay. I just… I need time. I need to be alone. And I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry for not staying in contact with you. I should have…”

“Shhh, shhh, no, no, Y/N/N,” Lewis interrupts, his voice firm but gentle. “It’s not your fault, okay? It’s not.”

“But it is,” you protest weakly, your guilt and shame threatening to swallow you whole. “It is, Lewis. I pushed you away. I let him push you away.”

“Y/N/N, listen to me,” he says, his tone softer now, soothing. “It’s not your fault. You don’t have to carry that. I’m just so sorry you’ve had to go through this.”

You’re silent, your chest heaving with the effort of trying to breathe through the pain. You want to believe him, to let go of the guilt, but it’s so hard. Everything feels so heavy, so overwhelming.

“Y/N/N?” Lewis’s voice breaks through your thoughts, anchoring you. “Talk to me. Please.”

You swallow hard, trying to find the words, but all you can manage is a whisper. “I have to go.”

“No, Y/N/N, don’t…” He sounds desperate now, almost pleading. “Please don’t hang up.”

“Lewis, it’s okay,” you say, though your voice is shaking. “I just… I need to turn my phone off and go away for a while. I just wanted to hear your voice before I go.”

“Go?” Lewis’s voice is strained with worry. “Y/N/N, you’re scaring me. Please, don’t do anything—”

“I’m not going to harm myself, Lewis,” you quickly reassure him, though you can hear the fear in his voice. “I just need to be away from everything—the phone, social media, the public. All of it. I need space. I need silence. I need some peace.”

There’s a long pause on the other end, and you can almost feel his struggle, his desire to reach through the phone and hold you, to keep you from slipping away. “Okay, Y/N/N,” he finally says, his voice soft, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. “I just want you to know that I care about you so much. I’m here for you, no matter what. Always.”

Your throat tightens again, and you fight to keep your voice steady. “I know, Lew. I know.”

The silence that follows is both comforting and painful, a shared moment of understanding and loss. You can almost see him, the way he would look at you with those concerned eyes, the way he would hold you until the pain wasn’t so suffocating.

“Goodbye, Lewis,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

“I’ll talk to you later, Y/N/N,” he replies, a quiet determination in his tone that you know so well.

The call ends, and you’re left staring at the screen, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. The hurt is still there, raw and painful, but there’s a small sliver of warmth now, too. Hearing his voice again, knowing he’s still there for you, gives you a fragile sense of comfort.

You turn off your phone, letting the silence envelop you. The world outside fades away, and for a moment, it’s just you in the quiet, trying to piece together the shattered fragments of your heart.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

For the past year and a half, you distanced yourself from everyone, including Lewis. You buried yourself in work, traveled alone, and avoided any situation that might bring back memories of what you lost. Your heart ached, but you told yourself it was better this way. Safer.

You threw yourself into your career, taking on projects that challenged and inspired you. You even went back to school. You traveled to places you had always dreamed of visiting, finding solace in the beauty of the world. You spent time in nature, hiking, meditating, and rediscovering yourself.

The media had a field day with your disappearance. Speculations ran wild, but you remained silent, focusing on your healing. You took up new hobbies, learned new skills, and invested in yourself. Slowly, you began to rebuild your confidence and sense of self-worth.

You emerged from the shadows stronger, wiser, and more determined than ever. Your hard work paid off, and you made a name for yourself. Your projects received critical acclaim, and your name was on everyone's lips for all the right reasons.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Tonight was your first public appearance since exposing Jensen. The Met Gala was the event of the year, and you had been meticulously preparing for it. Your stylist had outdone herself, and when you looked in the mirror, you saw a vision of elegance and strength.

As you stepped onto the red carpet, the flashes of cameras and the shouts of fans filled the air. You walked with confidence, your head held high, and a smile that spoke of triumph and resilience.

"Y/N, you look stunning!" the photographers called out.

"Over here, Y/N! Give us a smile!"

You obliged, posing for the cameras and greeting the fans. It felt good to be back, to be seen and appreciated for who you had become.

The crowded after-party buzzed with energy, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. People mingled, dressed to the nines, chatting and dancing in the dimly lit room. The atmosphere was electric, but you found yourself standing still, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation. You hadn't seen Lewis in years, and the sight of him now, just a few feet away, sent a shiver down your spine.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Lewis Hamilton, your former best friend. Lewis had been your rock, your confidant, and your best friend. He had been there through thick and thin, always ready with a comforting word or a warm embrace. It had been years since you last spoke to him, even longer since you last saw him, and the sight of him brought back a flood of memories. You hesitated, unsure of what to do.

Lewis spotted you and made his way over. His presence was as comforting as ever, and when he reached you, he placed his hand on your arm and leaned in close.

"Hi, Y/N," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your nerves.

"Hi, Lewis," you replied, trying to steady your racing heart.

His eyes held a mix of emotions—concern, relief, and something deeper. His presence was both comforting and disconcerting. The familiar warmth of his hand on your arm, the concern in his eyes, and the gentle tone of his voice—all of it felt like home. And yet, there was something else, something new, stirring within you. It was an unfamiliar sensation, one that made your chest feel light and your heart beat loudly in your ears.

You stood there, staring into his eyes, and your mind began to drift back to the countless moments you had shared with Lewis. The late-night conversations, the laughter, the shared dreams and hopes. He had always been your anchor, grounding you when the world felt too overwhelming. You remembered the way he would listen to you, truly listen, making you feel heard and understood. No one else had ever made you feel that way.

Lewis had been there during some of the darkest times in your life. When you first broke into the entertainment industry and faced the pressures of fame, he was the one who kept you grounded. He had a way of making you see the bigger picture, of reminding you of your worth and potential. His encouragement had been a constant source of strength for you.

As your mind wandered, you recalled the moments of pure joy you had shared with him. The spontaneous road trips, the late-night drives, the silly arguments that always ended in laughter. Lewis had a way of making even the mundane feel magical. He brought a sense of adventure and excitement into your life, and you cherished every moment you spent with him.

And then there were the quieter moments, the times when words weren't needed. Sitting in comfortable silence, watching the sunset, or simply being in each other's presence. Those moments had a depth and intimacy that you hadn't experienced with anyone else. It was in those moments that you felt truly seen and understood.

But as your relationship with Jensen took over, you had drifted away from Lewis. The demands of your high-profile romance consumed you, and you found yourself distancing from the people who mattered most. Lewis had tried to be there for you, but you were too caught up in the whirlwind to notice. You regretted that now, more than anything.

Standing here, face to face with Lewis, you felt a pang of guilt. You had shut him out, pushed him away when you needed him the most. And yet, here he was, looking at you with the same warmth and concern as always. It was a testament to the kind of person he was, loyal and kind.

But there was something else in his eyes tonight, something that made your heart race. It was a look you hadn't seen before, a depth of emotion that went beyond friendship. It made you feel vulnerable, exposed, and yet strangely exhilarated. You weren't sure what it was, but it made your chest feel light and your heart beat loudly in your ears.

You tried to make sense of this new feeling. It was a mix of longing, anticipation, and a hint of fear. Longing for the connection you once had, anticipation for what could be, and fear of the unknown. You had spent so long guarding your heart, protecting yourself from more pain, that this new sensation was both thrilling and terrifying.

As you stood there, lost in your thoughts, Lewis gently guided you to a quieter corner of the room. The noise and chaos of the party faded into the background as you focused on him, on the way his presence made you feel safe and cherished.

"How have you been?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the words to convey everything you had been through. "It's been... challenging," you admitted. "But I'm doing better now. I've been healing, focusing on myself."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm glad to hear that. I've missed you, Y/N/N."

Those words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had missed him too, more than you could ever express. The realization made your heart ache with a mix of regret and hope.

"I've missed you too, Lewis," you said softly, your voice tinged with emotion.

There was a moment of silence as you both took in each other's presence. It was as if time had stopped, and all that mattered was this moment, this connection between you. You felt a spark, a flicker of something more, and it both excited and scared you.

Lewis reached out and gently took your hand in his. The simple gesture sent a jolt of electricity through you. His touch was familiar, comforting, and yet it ignited a new flame within you. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a sense of belonging that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"I know things have been tough," he said, his voice low and earnest. "But you're stronger than you think, Y/N/N. You've always been strong."

Tears welled up in your eyes as his words touched a deep part of you. You had been trying to be strong for so long, to prove to yourself and the world that you could rise above the pain. Hearing Lewis acknowledge that strength made you feel seen and validated.

"Thank you, Lewis," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I don't know what I would have done without your support."

He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes filled with a mix of pride and affection. "You've always had it in you, Y/N. You just needed to believe in yourself."

His words resonated with you, echoing the journey you had been on over the past year and a half. You had fought hard to rebuild your life, to find yourself again. And now, standing here with Lewis, you felt a renewed sense of hope.

As the night went on, you found yourself drawn to Lewis in a way you hadn't expected. There was a new layer to your connection, something deeper and more profound. It was as if the time apart had only strengthened the bond between you, and now it was evolving into something more.

You couldn't deny the way your heart raced when he looked at you, the way his touch sent shivers down your spine. It was a feeling you hadn't experienced in a long time, and it scared you. But it also filled you with a sense of excitement and possibility.

You spent the rest of the evening talking, reminiscing about old times and catching up on each other's lives. The conversation flowed effortlessly, just like it always had. And yet, there was an undercurrent of something new, something that made your heart flutter.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

As the night drew to a close, you found yourself standing outside the venue, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the warmth of the party. Lewis stood beside you, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of everything you were feeling. The two of you had talked throughout the evening, catching up in a way that felt familiar yet distant. There had been laughter, shared memories, and a surface-level exchange about how your lives were going. But there was something deeper weighing on your heart, something you couldn’t ignore any longer.

“Lewis,” you began, your voice soft and hesitant, “I’m sorry.”

He turned to you, his expression shifting from the relaxed smile he’d worn all evening to something more serious, more concerned. “What for?”

You swallowed hard, gathering your thoughts, knowing this was going to be difficult but feeling an overwhelming need to say it. “I know tonight we talked a little bit about our lives and how we’re doing, but I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. For not staying in contact with you throughout college as much as I should have.”

Lewis frowned, his eyes searching your face as if trying to understand where this was coming from. “Y/N, that wasn’t—”

“No, please, let me finish,” you interrupted, your voice shaking slightly as you pushed forward. “And then, when my career took off… You were there for me, supporting me, and I was with Jensen, and I cut you off.”

“Y/N, that wasn’t your fault,” he said quickly, his tone gentle but firm.

“I know,” you nodded, tears welling in your eyes. “But after everything that happened, I didn’t speak to you at all. It’s been three years, Lewis. Three years since it all fell apart, and tonight was the first time I’ve talked to you in years. And we didn’t even really talk. We just… surface talked. And you deserve more than that. So… I’m sorry.”

Lewis looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions—shock, hurt, confusion. Your words had opened up old wounds, bringing to the surface feelings he’d buried deep down. He was struggling to process it all, his heart racing as he tried to find something to say, to make sense of the flood of emotions you’d just unleashed. But before he could respond, you suddenly seemed to panic.

Your breath hitched as you realized the weight of what you’d just said, the vulnerability you’d exposed. “I—I shouldn’t have brought this up. Not here. Not now,” you stammered, your voice trembling. Without waiting for him to say anything, you turned and walked away, your steps quickening as you headed for your car. “I’m sorry,” you whispered again, but it was barely audible.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Lewis stood there, frozen, watching as you slipped away into the night. His heart ached, the apology you’d left him with echoing in his mind. “She’s sorry?” he murmured to himself, the words feeling hollow and incomplete. There was so much more to say, so much more he wanted to understand, but you were gone before he could even begin to process it.

As you sat in your car, your hands gripping your purse, you felt a wave of regret wash over you. “What did I just do?” you whispered, your voice laced with self-recrimination. “That wasn’t the time or place… I’m such an idiot.” You stared blankly ahead, the headlights of passing cars blurring as your mind replayed the scene over and over. You couldn’t believe you’d brought up something so deep, so personal, in such a casual setting. And then, you didn’t even give him a chance to respond. You just walked away. Again.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Meanwhile, Lewis remained rooted to the spot, his thoughts a chaotic swirl of confusion and hurt. Your words had ripped open old scars, bringing back all the pain of losing you, the ache of your absence in his life. And now, you’d said you were sorry, but what did that mean? Was that it? Was that all you had to say after years of silence?

“She’s sorry…” Lewis repeated, his voice barely a whisper. It wasn’t enough. It didn’t explain why you’d cut him off, why you’d let so much time pass without a word, and why you’d left him standing there without so much as an explanation.

As the chauffeur approached him, telling him his car was ready, Lewis felt a sudden rush of determination. He couldn’t let it end like this. Not again. He couldn’t let you walk away without at least trying to understand, without at least saying something—anything—that might bridge the gap that had grown between you over the years.

“Follow that black SUV that just pulled off,” Lewis instructed the driver as he climbed into the car.

“Okay, sir,” the driver responded, nodding as he pulled away from the curb, keeping the distance between the cars minimal.

Lewis leaned back in his seat, his mind racing. He didn’t know what he was going to say when he caught up with you, but he knew he had to try. He couldn’t let you disappear from his life again, not after everything you’d just unearthed, not after the years of silence and buried feelings that were now clawing their way to the surface.

He watched the road ahead, his heart pounding, as the chauffeur followed closely behind your car. He didn’t care how long it took, or what he had to do—he wasn’t going to let you slip away again. Not this time.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

You had just returned to your penthouse after the Met Gala after-party, exhausted yet exhilarated by the night's events. The gown you had worn now lay draped over a chair, and you had just managed to slip into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a loose-fitting t-shirt. The clock on your bedside table blinked 3:40 AM. You were about to crawl into bed when a knock on the door startled you.

"Who the fuck?" you muttered to yourself, rubbing your eyes as you made your way to the door.

Opening it, you were met with the sight of Lewis, looking disheveled and intense. You blinked, trying to process the unexpected visitor.

"Lewis? What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice a mix of confusion and concern.

He didn't say a word, just walked past you into the penthouse and sat down heavily on your couch. You stood there for a moment, stunned. This was not like Lewis. Closing the door behind you, you walked over to him, trying to understand what was happening.

"Uh, okay. What's going on?" you asked, your voice tentative.

Before you could say anything else, Lewis turned to you, his eyes blazing with a mix of hurt and frustration.

"You're sorry... Sorry, Y/N? After all these years of not speaking to each other and being best friends, that's all you have to say to me? Sorry? I deserve more than that. No, fuck that, I need more from you," he said, his voice trembling with emotion.

Your confusion deepened, and you took a step back, trying to gather your thoughts. "Lewis, I—what do you want me to say? I mean, friends drift apart, a lot of shit happened" you began, but he cut you off.

"Friends?! Friends, Y/N? I've known you since we were kids. I know your favorite movie, your favorite color, your favorite flowers—yeah, flowers, because you have three. I know how you like your eggs cooked, I know you love ketchup but hate tomatoes on anything. I know you're allergic to mosquito bites, and you hate when people say something and then say 'never mind'. I know you, Y/N, everything about you. You're my person, my Y/N. We are not just friends, Y/N. At least not in my eyes."

You stood there, speechless, as his words washed over you. He continued, his voice growing more desperate. "So yes, I'm mad at your 'I'm sorry' after three years of not hearing from you, having to call your parents, friends, your siblings, hell, even your assistant to know how you are doing. So, sorry if I feel like the girl I've been in love with since forever deserves to give me more of a conversation."

His words hung in the air, heavy and charged with emotion. You stared at him, your mind racing to comprehend everything he had just said. There was a silence, thick and palpable, stretching between you both.

"You... love me?" you finally managed to whisper, your voice barely audible.

The room seemed to close in around you as you waited for his response, your heart pounding loudly in your ears.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Lewis’s silence was deafening. He stared at you with a mixture of vulnerability and determination, his usual confidence stripped away by raw emotion. You could see the pain etched in his features, and it mirrored the tumultuous feelings inside you.

"Yes, Y/N," he said finally, his voice hoarse. "I love you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. And it’s not just some fleeting feeling or a phase. It’s been there, in the background, every day, every moment we’ve been apart. I’ve watched you build your life, your career, and I’ve cheered you on from a distance. But it was never enough for me to just be on the sidelines. I wanted more, I needed more, and I didn’t know how to make you see that."

You took a deep breath, your mind reeling from his confession. The realization that Lewis’s feelings for you were not just platonic but something deeper, something that had been lingering all these years, was overwhelming. It made you feel exposed and vulnerable in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

"I... I didn’t know," you said softly, your voice trembling. "I had no idea you felt this way."

Lewis’s eyes softened slightly, but the pain was still evident. "How could you? I kept it hidden, buried under layers of friendship and missed opportunities. I thought maybe if I stayed out of the way, you’d figure it out on your own. But the longer I stayed silent, the more I realized that I was just hurting myself. And when you disappeared, I thought I’d lost my chance forever."

Your mind flashed back to those moments when you were close, when you shared everything with him. You remembered how he always seemed to be just a step away from being more than a friend, but you had never let yourself acknowledge it. Your focus had been on your own life, your career, and Jensen. Now, standing in front of Lewis, you saw the depth of what you had missed.

"I was so caught up in everything that happened with Jensen," you said, tears welling up in your eyes. "I pushed everyone away, including you. And now... now I’m not sure what to do with all of this. I didn’t know how much I missed you until you were back here, but I’m still trying to understand what this means."

Lewis stood up and walked towards you, his gaze never leaving yours. "What it means, Y/N, is that I’m here, laying it all out for you. I’m not asking for anything other than the chance to be honest with you. I need you to know how I feel, and I need you to decide if there’s a place for me in your life—beyond just friends."

The emotion in his voice was almost palpable, and you could feel the weight of his words pressing down on you. Your heart ached with the complexity of the situation. You had been through so much, and now faced with this raw, unfiltered declaration of love, you felt torn.

As the silence stretched between you and Lewis, you felt a tumult of emotions roiling within you. The weight of his confession had struck a chord deep inside, stirring feelings that had long been buried. His words had opened a floodgate, and as you stood there, the realization that you had harbored a deep love for him all along became crystal clear.

"I love you," you said softly, the words escaping your lips almost as a whisper but carrying the weight of years of unspoken emotion.

Lewis’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth slightly open as he struggled to process what he had just heard. "W-What?" he stuttered, his voice barely above a whisper. The disbelief in his tone was palpable, and for a moment, he seemed frozen, as if he couldn’t quite grasp the reality of the situation.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart and the tears that threatened to spill over. You locked eyes with him, your gaze unwavering. "The recent years apart made me realize just how much I truly missed you. I was so naïve and stupid when we were younger. I didn’t see how you looked at me or how you treated me. You were always there for me, through the good and the bad days. Even when I wanted to rot away, you were there, holding me up."

Tears began to slip down your cheeks, and you reached up to wipe them away with trembling fingers. "Tonight, seeing you again after all these years, my whole mind and body were flooded with emotions. It made me realize what I knew deep down: that I love you. I’ve always loved you more than a friend. I’m so sorry for all the pain I’ve put you through. I know I can’t make it up to you, and you have every right not to forgive me. But I am so sorry, Lewis. I love you. I really do. I’m in love with you."

Your voice broke as you spoke, and the tears you had been trying to hold back began to fall freely. The intensity of your emotions was overwhelming, and you felt a mixture of relief and sorrow as you poured out your heart.

Lewis’s eyes were wide with disbelief, and his own tears began to form as he processed your confession. He stood up slowly, the gravity of the moment clearly affecting him. Without a word, he walked towards you, his steps filled with purpose and urgency.

When he reached you, he cupped your face gently in his hands, his touch both tender and fervent. He leaned in, closing the gap between you, and his lips met yours in a passionate, urgent kiss. The kiss was filled with all the longing, love, and frustration that had been building up over the years. It was a kiss that spoke of pain and hope, of dreams lost and found.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes were filled with a mix of wonder and joy. "You have no fucking idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words to me," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "I’m not even sure if this is real or if my mind is just playing tricks on me."

You managed a soft, tearful laugh, the joy and relief mingling with the sadness of your confession. You reached up, gently cradling his face in your hands. His hands were still on your face, his touch grounding and reassuring. "It’s real, Lewis," you said with a trembling smile. "I love you, Lewis Hamilton. I always have."

Lewis’s expression softened, and he returned your smile with a mixture of adoration and relief. "And I love you, Y/N L/N. Always have, always will."

With that, the intensity of the moment took over, he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing onto yours in a fervent, passionate kiss. The kiss was deep and urgent, fueled by the years of longing and unspoken feelings that had been bottled up. Your bodies pressed together, the heat of the moment making you both lose track of everything but the electric connection between you.

As the kiss continued, Lewis’s hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer to him. You could feel the strength of his arms around you, and the warmth of his body pressed against yours. The kiss was a dance of passion and tenderness, each of you exploring the newfound closeness with a mix of fervor and delicacy.

With a sudden surge of energy, Lewis lifted you off the ground, his arms strong and steady as he cradled you against him. A surprised yelp of joy escaped your lips, but it was quickly swallowed by another deep kiss. You wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling the thrill of being held so securely.

Lewis pulled away briefly, his breath mingling with yours as he looked into your eyes with a mix of desire and determination. "Bedroom," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

You nodded, guiding him towards the bedroom with a sense of excitement and anticipation. "It's this way," you whispered, your voice breathless. As he carried you through the penthouse, his lips never left your neck, trailing kisses that sent shivers down your spine.

When you reached the bedroom, Lewis gently laid you down on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours. The room was dimly lit, casting soft shadows that danced along the walls. The atmosphere was charged with a mixture of passion and vulnerability, the culmination of years of unspoken emotions.

As you lay on the bed, Lewis’s hands roamed over your body with a mixture of reverence and eagerness. He kissed your neck, moving slowly down towards your collarbone, his lips brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your heart race. His touch was both soothing and electrifying, igniting every nerve in your body.

You reached up, your hands working on the buttons of his shirt with a sense of urgency. The fabric fell away, revealing his well-defined chest. You traced your fingers over his skin, savoring the warmth and strength beneath your fingertips. Lewis responded with a soft, appreciative murmur, his hands continuing their exploration of your body.

You continued to undress him, your movements growing more confident as you removed his pants and underwear. Each layer of clothing that fell away seemed to bring you both closer, the physical closeness mirroring the emotional connection that had finally been acknowledged.

His kisses were searing, each one more urgent than the last. His hands roaming your body with a hunger that left you breathless, igniting a fire wherever they touched. His mouth moved from your lips to your neck, kissing, nipping, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You arched into him, the need for more overwhelming.

Without breaking contact, he settled between your legs, his hands sliding under your shirt, lifting it over your head. As you unclasped your bra, Lewis’s eyes were filled with adoration and desire. "You’re beautiful," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. He leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it while his fingers teased the other. You moaned, your back arching off the bed, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

Lewis trailed kisses down your body, his mouth hot against your skin, until he reached the waistband of your panties. He looked up at you, his eyes locking with yours as he slowly pulled them down, the anticipation building with every second. He spread your legs wider, his breath hot against your most sensitive area. When his tongue finally made contact, you cried out, your hands gripping the sheets. He licked and sucked, his tongue exploring every inch, driving you wild with need.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "I can't get enough of you."

You gasped, the sensation of his mouth on you too much and not enough all at once. "Lewis, please," you begged, your voice trembling with need.

"Patience, love," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "I want to savor every moment."

He looked up, his eyes dark with lust, before diving back in, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers. He slid one, then two fingers inside you, curling them just right, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. Your body responded immediately, the pressure building, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. When the first orgasm hit, it was like a wave crashing over you, your body tensing, then shuddering as the pleasure rolled through you.

But Lewis wasn't done. He continued working his fingers in and out of you, relentlessly, not giving you a moment to come down from your high. His tongue flicked over your clit as his fingers worked you, the sensation almost too much. You could feel another orgasm building, the intensity of it taking your breath away. When it hit, it was even more powerful than the first, your body convulsing with the force of it. You screamed his name, your vision going white with the sheer pleasure of it.

"You taste so sweet," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I could do this all night."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locked on yours. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "More than okay," you managed to say, your voice hoarse with pleasure.

He smiled, a wicked glint in his eye. "Good. Because I'm not done with you yet."

He climbed back up your body, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. You could feel his erection pressing against you, the need in him just as fierce as your own. Without breaking the kiss, you flipped him onto his back, straddling him, your hands running over his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath your fingers.

"You’re so sexy," you murmured against his skin, your voice thick with desire. "I can't get enough of you."

You kissed him, your lips trailing down his neck, over his chest, worshipping his body. You moved lower, taking his thick cock into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip before taking it deeper, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn't reach. He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, his control slipping.

"God, Y/N," he groaned, his voice rough with need. "Feels so fuckin’ good, sweetheart."

You continued sucking his cock, taking your time to pleasure him until he was teetering on the edge.

But he didn't let you finish. He pulled you up, his eyes burning with lust. "I want to come in you," he said, his voice rough. He flipped you over, positioning himself at your entrance. He pushed in slowly, the sensation of him filling you making you gasp.

He moved with a steady rhythm at first, his thrusts deep and powerful. The pleasure built quickly, the sensation of him inside you driving you wild. "Who's my good girl?" he whispered in your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "You like that, right?"

You could only moan in response, the pleasure too intense for words. He moved faster, his thrusts harder, each one hitting that perfect spot inside you. He leaned down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting gently. The combination of sensations was overwhelming, and you felt another orgasm building, the pressure intense. When it hit, it was like an explosion, your body shaking with the force of it.

But Lewis didn't stop. This time he put a pillow under your lower back, throwing your legs over his shoulders. His thrusts were relentless, powerful, driving you to the edge again and again. You could feel another orgasm building, the intensity of it almost too much to bear. When it finally hit, it was like a tidal wave, crashing over you, leaving you breathless, dizzy with pleasure.

Even though you had come, Lewis hadn't. He continued to move, his thrusts never losing their rhythm, overwhelming you with pleasure. You could feel another orgasm building, the sensation almost too much. When it hit, it was like a white-hot explosion, your body convulsing with the force of it.

"Lewis, I can't... it's too much," you gasped, your body trembling with the intensity of the pleasure.

"You can take it, baby," he whispered, his husky voice filled with love and lust. "You're a good girl, right baby. Take it for me.

Lewis finally let himself go, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. When he came, it was with a deep groan, his body tensing, then shuddering as he emptied himself inside you. He collapsed on top of you, his breath hot against your skin, his body trembling with the aftermath.

He rolled off you, pulling you close, his arms wrapping around you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers tracing patterns on your back. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft, concern lacing his tone.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "That was... incredible," you managed to say, your voice hoarse.

Lewis smiled, his eyes softening. "You were incredible," he said, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. He kissed you gently, his lips soft against yours, a stark contrast to the rough passion from earlier.

He got up, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment before returning with a warm, damp cloth. He cleaned you up gently, his touch tender, his eyes never leaving yours. He tossed the cloth in the damper and climbed back into bed, pulling you into his arms.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again, his voice filled with genuine concern.

"I'm perfect," you said, snuggling closer to him, your body still humming with the afterglow of your multiple orgasms.

Lewis’s fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin, his touch soothing and tender. He looked at you with a smile, his eyes filled with a mixture of contentment and adoration. "I never imagined this would happen," he said softly, his voice filled with wonder. "But I’m so glad it did."

You smiled back at him, your heart full and your soul at peace. "Me too," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’ve never felt so complete."

He continued to hold you, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back. "You're everything to me," he said quietly. "I want you to know that."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, the depth of his words touching you deeply. You had always known that there was something special between you, but hearing it aloud made it all the more real.

"You mean everything to me too, Lewis," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Lewis smiled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "Good," he said, his voice soft. "I want you to feel safe and loved, always."

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with emotion. "I do," you said, your voice thick with feeling. "I love you, Lewis."

He looked at you, his eyes shining with emotion. "I love you too," he said, his voice steady and sincere.

You lay there in each other's arms, the tension and passion of the night giving way to a comfortable silence, the only sound the soft beat of your hearts in sync. The world outside ceased to exist, and in that moment, there was only the two of you, wrapped up in each other's love and warmth.

.•☆.°. taglist ☆.°.• . @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ronpho @minekarina @aeongism @formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa @yoncesgroove @tellybearryyyy @exotic-iris13 @magixpracticality @eoduuung @eternoangel @xoscar03 @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @danieldaviddarren33 @flowerpetalk @xoscar3 @jimcarreyfann42 @f1updates4you @booksandflowrs @chaostudee @oliviah-25

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apocalypseornaw · 1 month

Text

Shaky Ground

Dean Winchester x Reader

When Dean accidently hurts you during sex it leads to you feeling unsure about your relationship because for the first time ever he won't reciprocate your attempts at intimacy even after you're healed

Cursing, mention of a bruised cervix, body parts being bruised,supernatural level of violence, NSFW happenings

Requested by @fullbelieverheart This ended up longer than Sam's version... sorry I love Sammy but Dean has my heart

Dean's jaw ached from how hard his teeth ground together. The hunt had been too close. You'd nearly...he didn't want to think about it. He couldn't think about it. He followed you into your shared hotel room, greatful Sam had the foresight to get two rooms. He couldn't imagine having to share the room with his brother right now.

When you turned to face him he felt his anger dissolve into that underlying fear. You didn't have any serious injuries, no more than him or Sam but the fact that if he'd been a little slower or a little weaker or if you'd had a little less fight in you.... "come here" he barely got out before scooping you up into his arms and walking towards the bed. What he couldn't say with words, he could say in other ways.

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

You woke up slowly, the small amount of light from the curtain hitting your eyes. You could feel Dean's arm tucked tightly around your waist. As much as you wanted to cuddle up against him you could tell from the discomfort you were in that something was wrong.

You tried to move his arm without waking him but the moment you touched him his eyes fluttered open "What's wrong sweetheart?" You smiled at the concern in his voice "We didn't clean up before we fell asleep last night. I feel gross" he chuckled lightly and pressed a kiss to your shoulder "Good point. Let's grab a shower then I'll go wake Sammy up"

You felt him move out the bed so you moved to do the same but felt a harsh pull through your lower body. At first you assumed it was the usual post sex soreness, Dean was well endowed to say the least but when you had to bite down on your lip to not cry out you knew it was more and when you saw streaks of blood on the sheet you cursed lightly under your breath. Dean looked back from where he was pulled fresh clothes out of his duffle "Something wrong?" You smiled stiffly "No"

His smile dropped "Don't lie to me baby. What is it" you swallowed hard then bit back a grimace as you stood out of the bed and pulled the cover back "I um apparently bled a little last night?" He walked over and looked at the stains "You don't have periods because of your iud" you nodded slowly. His eyes went from the stain to your face then moved slowly down to your body "Did I hurt I hurt?"

You shrugged "Not really" you watched his throat move as he swallowed hard "let me rephrase the question here. Are you in pain right now from something I did last night?" You let out a breath and let your gaze drop to the floor "My pelvic area is really sore and it kinda hurts to move fast and I think I'm gonna bruise on my hips"

Dean moved slowly towards you and you felt his hands touch your body gently, his fingers tracing where you knew bruises would be. "Dean" you spoke his name softly and started to cover his hand with your own but he pulled away "I'm gonna go shower in Sam's room. There was an urgent care a few towns over. We'll stop by and see what's wrong" "It's not that serious Dean" you tried again but his face had already taken on that hard mask "I hurt you, inside and out. At least let me take you to a doctor"

"Just shower with me" your voice was nearly a whisper but he shook his head "I need to wake him up anyway" you watched him dress in yesterday's clothes and grab his clean ones before slipping out the door, only taking time to lock it behind himself.

"I needed the help" you whispered with tears in your eyes before slowly bending down to pick up your duffle bag. You hoped nothing was serious because the look in Dean's eyes was enough to snap your heart in two.

You sat in the backseat absorbing the silence that filled the impala. You had a bruised cervix and some mild bruising on your hips and thighs. The look in Dean's eyes when the doctor asked if you were safe at home...jesus.

You closed your eyes and laid back against the seat, holding your stomach where the heated patch Sam had found at the pharmacy was helping to soothe your muscles. You knew Dean would never hurt you on purpose and its not like you were exactly complaining, hell you'd been begging him not to stop as a matter of fact.

You tried not to let any discomfort show because outside of holding your hand while the doctor had done a pelvic exam he hadn't shown any physical affection. Anytime his eyes found yours in the mirror you would give him a small smile and he'd look away. What was going through his head?

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

Deans head was anything but silent as he drove. What kind of man hurt the woman he loved? Intentionally or not? He glanced back at you in the mirror and this time you didn't notice his attention. You'd stolen Sam's flannel as a pillow as was using his jacket as a blanket. The anti inflammatory meds along with antibiotics had meant all of you had needed to stop for lunch to make sure you had food in your stomach but he hadn't been able to eat much.

His thoughts were filled with the fact that he'd hurt you. The one person you should've been able to trust to protect you was the one who hurt you. You must have finally gotten comfortable because you hadn't stirred in the last few miles and it seemed like you were asleep. "She's ok Dean. She's strong and heals fairly fast" Sam spoke softly, ignoring the daggers Dean glared in his direction "Sam they looked at me like I was abusive or worse. I bruised her cervix. I've never done that to anyone. Not even when I was a kid figuring out what goes where. I'm a grown man. How do I fuck up this bad? And bruises on her hips and thighs?"

Sam shrugged "Dean you're strong as hell man and she's got a high pain tolerance. You two were amped up from a hunt. Adrenaline was high. Just don't let this come between you" Dean glanced back at you again as you moved around in your sleep, a slight twinge of discomfort flashing across your face twisting his heart with guilt "Easier said than done"

Bruises fade internally as well as externally. What proved to be harder to heal was the ever widening gap between you and Dean. When he finally started sleeping in the bed with you again he'd wear a t-shirt and either sweatpants or loungepants to bed.

He'd kiss you but it would never go past a quick kiss. No tongue would ever even make it into the picture and he'd rarely even hold you when you slept. You were losing your mind. You'd tried everything you knew that would normally have him begging you but he'd either curl up behind you and go to sleep or make an excuse about helping Sam.

You fought back tears yet again as Dean barely brushed a kiss to your lips before heading into town to pick up needed things for the bunker. You grabbed a bottle of water and headed for the library to help Sam do research, maybe getting your mind off the growing doubt in your heart would help.

----------

You sat down at the table and Sam glanced up "You didn't go with Dean?" You scoffed "and have him accidentally touch any part of my body? The scandal" you hadn't meant to say it but it slipped out. His eyes widened "Guess he's still avoiding a certain subject"

You covered your face with your hands "Fuck I shouldn't be talking to you about it" "Hey, if it helps then talk" Sam offered and you let your hands slide down to offer him a greatful smile "I love him so much Sam and I know relationship are so much more than that but I miss the connection. I miss being in his arms. I miss feeling like I'm completely his and that he's completely mine"

You wiped your eyes before the tears could spill. He nodded slowly "He's scared. He won't admit it but he is. He felt so horrible when he realized he hurt you and the way he was treated at that urgent care... he doesn't want to risk hurting you again so you're gonna have to put the foot forward and make it intentional. All cards on the table thing"

You nodded after a moment "Thanks Sammy" he smiled "Of course"

You knew Dean had purposely stayed up late tinkering around in the garage. Baby didn't need tuning up, neither did your car. He kept them in top form. He was avoiding you.

You walked around the room you shared with him, stretching your legs and wondering just how to approach the subject without him feeling like you were pushing him into a corner. Dean never reacted well if he felt like something was an ultimatum but this wasn't fair to either of you.

You were healed up, inside and out. You hadn't blamed him any, even when you'd still been sore to the touch. You'd always known Dean was strong. Hell he fought monsters for most of his life, hand to hand and won. That required physical strength. Mix with the fact that you had a pain tolerance that Bobby had called insane...well you were surprised it'd taken this long for an accident to happen.

You loved Dean's strength, he was normally so gentle with you but that one night you'd almost died. You'd known it just the same as him. The adrenaline hadn't even faded from your system to acknowledge it when you'd gotten back to the hotel and you needed to feel like you were still alive and he needed the confirmation you were still alive as well. Dean out of every person on the face of the earth would die a thousand times over before ever intentionally hurting you and you knew that to the bottom of your heart. If only you could make him see that.

You laid down on the bed and curled your legs up under you. You felt defeated. If you couldn't win the fight for your relationship, how the hell could you win any others?

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

You heard the door crack open after a while and started to pretend like you were asleep but turned to face Dean was was standing next to his dresser. He smiled softly "Did I wake you?" You shook your head "No, I haven't exactly been sleeping good"

He dropped his gaze down "Are you hurting again?" "Physically? No" you replied softly before turning around again, giving him your back. You didn't want to hurt him but you had no clue how to give voice to your own fears in the moment either.

You choked back a sob when the bed dipped behind you right before you felt his arm slip around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. "I'm so sorry sweetheart" you gently laid your hand on his arm, fingers lightly trailing over the skin because you were honesty starved for any touch from the man now holding you "It's ok Dean"

He leaned his forehead over to rest between your shoulders, warm breath hitting your skin where the shirt you slept in had slid down "I would never hurt you please tell you know that" "I know" you whispered.

You laid there for a few minutes just enjoying the fact that he was holding you before he moved around. You thought he was getting comfortable to go to sleep but his lips brushed against your neck. Your breath came out in a harsh shudder "Dean" you started to turn to face him so he loosened his grip to let you turn in his arms.

He kept one hand on your hip, lightly tracing the patterns on your shorts "Can we talk?" He asked and you nodded. "I'm terrified here sweetheart. The night I hurt you... I almost lost you that night and I was blinded by the what ifs...we should've showered...got some food or something to calm down first...I know that now..."

"I wasn't exactly telling you to stop Dean" you cut him off and he smiled slightly "I know but still it's my job to protect you, even if it's from me" you picked at the front of his shirt and nodded "You do protect me Dean" he gave you a look and you grinned before pretending to lock your lips.

"Seeing blood on the sheets and knowing I caused it. I hurt the woman I love bad enough she bled?" He closed his eyes for a moment so you took the opportunity to move your hand from his chest to his jaw, cupping it gently and letting your nails scratch the scruff covering it from the days he'd missed trimming it.

"Can I talk now?" He opened his eyes slowly and nodded "you do protect me Dean. That night, yeah we could calmed down and not let adrenaline run us but lesson learned. I was never mad at you, if I hadn't been hurting I would've kicked every last one of those doctors asses for even thinking such of you but I did yell at them"

He laughed, resuming letting his fingers trace patterns on your hips "Yeah I remember you yelling excuse the fuck out of him for having a big cock I know it's not like any of you or any of your husbands have to worry about that issue" you smiled at seeing him relax even just a bit "I'm not made of glass of Dean but I do acknowledge the fact that the man I'm in love with is extremely strong. I also know that the man I love with would never hurt me intentionally but Dean I miss you. I've been healed up for weeks now and you'll barely kiss me"

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

He leaned closer to catch your lips in a gentle kiss. Just when you figured he would move away he gripped your hips gently then rolled over onto his back so you were left straddling him. When you gasped from the sudden movement he deepened the kiss, rolling his tongue against yours in a way that had your head spinning.

When you were forced to break away from his lips he grinned up at you "I miss you too sweetheart. I'm still worried I'm gonna hurt you" you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment then shrugged with a playful smile "Face your fears Winchester"

When you slipped your shirt over your head his eyes darkened "You gonna lay back and let make sure you're good and ready for me?" One of his hands teased up your side to graze over your breast. After so long with no intimacy every little touch had small gasps leaving you and it was clear from the weight growing against your thigh that the sounds falling from you were having an effect on Dean.

You nodded so he pulled you down to him, his mouth finding your left nipple. Teeth barely grazing the sensitive bud. A low moan of his name escaped you as you rolled your hips against his causing a low groan to leave him.

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

He released your breast then turned the two of you over so you were on your back and he was now over you. You watched him as he slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it. You didn't waste any time letting your hands find his chest, fingers exploring the expanse of skin that you loved. His eyes closed at such an innocent touch but you knew it he was as starved for your touch as you were for his the touch was anything but.

When his eyes fluttered open the look in them made your stomach flip. He caught your lips in a searing kiss that wasn't rough but wasn't chaste either. It made heat flare through your body as his fingers teased the waistband of your shorts "I need to feel you" he whispered as his fingers disappeared under your shorts.

One of his fingers teased through your folds and he groaned when he felt how wet you already were "Oh baby, I've been neglecting you haven't I?" His words were teasing but his tone wasn't as he moved from your lips to your neck, kissing and nipping every place he knew would make your body react. When he finally slid one finger into you, you gasped at the feeling.

He curled his finger up and easily found that spot inside of you, adding a second digit as your arousal grew even more. The sound was lewd as he worked you to an orgasm, marking your neck as chest as he did. You were embarrassingly soaked when he used his thumb to rub circles on your clit that was all it took to push you over that edge and you came with a loud moan of his name.

He caught your lips in another passionate kiss before pulling his fingers to his mouth, holding your eyes as he licked them clean. "I need a taste" he murmured, moving to hover over you. He started at your lips,letting you taste yourself on him before starting down your body kissing and marking every inch of skin he could.

You were a fucking puddle under him before he ever got to your shorts. When he settled himself between your knees he smiled at you "I love you sweetheart" you smiled weakly "I love you Dean" he pulled your shorts off your legs and started at your left ankle, kissing up to just shy of where you needed him before repeating the action on your right leg.

Just when you thought he was going to tease you more he licked a long line into you and when your response was to tangle your fingers into his hair he dove in like a man starved.

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

You'd already came two or was it three times? Hell you had no idea. All you knew was your legs felt like they were made of jello, your entire body felt soft and Dean still hadn't let up. "Dean, please baby I can't"

He leaned back from you, chin glistening with your wetness "Tapping on me?" You nodded "Come here please" for the first time you saw hesitation in his eyes. "Please" you repeated and he left another kiss on your clit before making his way back up your body. When he kissed you, you tasted yourself on his lips.

You could feel his hardened cock through his sweatpants and hooked your leg around his waist to pull him down to you "I want you" "Sweetheart.." "I trust you" you whispered and saw something shift in his demeanor. Was that what he needed to hear?

He stood up long enough to kick his sweats off then climbed back up the bed, holding his weight on his arms. You could feel his cock sitting against your thighs "You won't hurt me" you whispered. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before lining himself up with your entrance.

When he started to push in you both let out a harsh breath. He froze, eyes searching your face so you laughed breathlessly "It's a normal you're big and we haven't had sex in a while reaction. Don't stop" he kept going at your encouragement until he was fully inside of you.

Once he was buried inside of you, you felt his hand shake slightly when he brushed the hair out of your face "Are you ok?" You nodded "I'm ok baby. You can move" he let his lips find yours as his hips gave a tentative roll. When you moan lightly he moved down from your lips to your neck.

----------

He buried his face in your neck as he found a pace that had your hands gripping his shoulders and praises of him falling from your lips. "You're the perfect one sweetheart. Look at you. All spread out for me, loving me" he groaned into your flesh and you knew he was close. He was holding back to make sure you found your own release.

He slipped one hand between your bodies and when his fingers found your clit your orgasm had you screaming his name. You could feel his hips falter and knew he was close. "I'm not gonna break. Nothing hurts" you whispered and his thrusts got just slightly deeper as he chased his own release. When he finally came and buried himself inside of you with a final thrust he pressed his head over onto your chest as both of your heavy breathing filled the room.

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

When Dean gently pulled out of you his eyes tracked the sheet under you so you smiled sleepily "We need to get cleaned up but I promise that's just a wet spot. No blood"

He pressed a deep kiss to your lips "I'll go start a bath. You get in first and I'll change the sheets then come join you" you raised an eyebrow "Dean we hadn't had sex in weeks. You just wrang like four orgasms out of me. Are you gonna wrap me in a sheet and carry me to the bathroom?"

He nodded as he slipped his sweatpants back on as if it was ridiculous for to you to think otherwise. You knew arguing was pointless so why not enjoy the brute strength of the man you loved? You shook your head with a laugh "I love you Dean" he grinned "I love you too. Now arms up"

#dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction

723 notes · View notes

yeoobiii · 1 month

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hello, can I ask you to write a mini story about Heeseung, where he teaches Y/n how to kiss 🙏🏻

⋆｡°✩ 𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙙

꩜ bestfriend!heeseung x gn!reader

꩜ best friends to lovers (?), first kisses

꩜ during a game of truth or dare you admit to all your friends for the first time that you've never been kissed and that you're frankly scared you'll mess up once the situation presents itself. Heeseung sees a perfect opportinity to help you out with that.

or: Heeseung teaches his best friend how to kiss and both of you get a bit lost in it

wc: 5.1k (this has gotten a bit longer than I intended to but honestly I just went with the flow and here we are.)

warnings: consumption of alcohol

a/n: thank you for the request, anon! btw requests are open if you'd like me to write something specific, I can't promise you anything on how quickly I'll get it done or if it's something I'm up to writing but like the link is in my bio :)

I hope you like this, anon!

There’s a few things none of your college friends knew about you. Despite knowing most of them for over three years now, some things just never came up naturally in conversation. Like the fact that you’ve not had your first kiss yet.

Why make a big deal out of it? You’ve also never been in love before. You didn’t feel the urge to inform everyone about these things, especially since most of your friends have a rather active dating life. You wanted to do these things at your own pace and didn’t want anyone involved in how you could “solve that problem”. You simply never intended on telling them. That is until last weekend happened and somehow your roommates were able to convince you to participate in a game of truth or dare.

It was a Thursday night and your roommate told you that they were having a few friends over for a cozy hang out and you were definitely down to chill with them because the both of you were friends with similar people and got along great in general, so having a few drinks with your friends in your dorm room seemed like a nice way to spend the evening.

And everything went smoothly enough, people were trickling in and out, the overall vibe very casual and comfortable. That is however until your friend Sofia suggested a game of truth or dare. To be fair, the overall intake of alcohol increased as the evening was progressing. It was almost inevitable that a suggestion like that would arouse sooner or later.

Before you even properly thought about it, you agreed to play and sat down in a circle with around five other tipsy college students.

Only later on did your brain register that Heeseung was one of the few chosen ones. For a split second you even wondered when he had arrived, but then you remembered that he greeted you with a friendly embrace when he first arrived about half an hour ago.

Technically, there was nothing wrong with him participating in the same game, the both of you were friends after all.

You met Heeseung pretty much the first day college started, you were both in stats together and happened to be sitting next to each other on the first day and it’s been like that ever since. However, you guys didn’t hit it off right away, you were friendly with each other, sure, but that mostly also out of convenience and occasionally you shared your notes with each other or he was making sure you didn’t fall asleep in class. It was all really casual and you would have considered him more like a colleague than a friend.

That was the case until one particular night that was destined to shape the kind of friendship the two of you would have with each other forever.

It was one of your first frat parties, the first semester was about to end and freshmen with various kinds of majors gathered to celebrate this collective milestone. Safe to say the liquor was being poured without much hesitation.

It wasn’t the first time you’ve run into Heeseung at a frat party either. Usually you’d shoot each other the occasional nod, acknowledging the other’s presence and moving on with your night and that’s all there was to it.

However, fate had other plans for this particular night.

At one point you excused yourself from the dance floor and went out the back door into the small garden to catch some fresh air, to your surprise not many people were out there, just you and a small group of three people maybe, who seemed to be passing around a blunt.

It took you a second glance to not only see your roommate but also Heeseung being part of that group, your roommate immediately greeting you enthusiastically upon locking eyes with you and beckoning for you to sit with them.

Shortly after you were sitting on your ass, your roommate's arm interlocked with yours, being pulled into the conversation easily.

Heeseung sent a brief smile of acknowledgement your way, before taking a hit from the joint. You returned his smile and also greeted the fourth person sitting with you who was eventually introduced as Heeseung’s friend Jake.

The joint was being passed around and eventually landed in your hand as well and afterwards the conversation seemed to flow effortlessly. You joked and laughed along to whatever your company was saying but were also emerged in the more heated discussions.

At one point you were so deep into the conversation with Jake that you didn’t even realize your roommate getting up and going back inside and like ten minutes later, Jakes excused himself to the bathroom and didn’t seem to return anymore.

Which only left Heeseung and you.

Now, you’d be lying if you’d say being in such close proximity with a cute guy like Heeseung, all by yourselves in this somewhat intimate setting left you completely unaffected. You could feel yourself growing slightly flustered at nothing in particular, but you eventually catched yourself when Heeseung asked.

“So, what’s your favorite dinosaur?”

You fell into comfortable conversation after that and the longer the night went on, the more intense the topics got.

Whenever you think back to that one particular part of the evening it kinda feels like Heeseung and you were the only two things existing at the moment. Your brain didn’t register the people stepping in and out of the garden as the hours passed by.

It was well past 3am when you checked your phone for the time since sitting down. You told Heeseung and he was just as shocked as you were at how quickly the time had passed, almost apologizing for taking up so much of your time, but you assured him you were enjoying yourself.

“It has been a while since I sat down like that and was able to talk to someone for hours about whatever popped into my head.” You admitted to him and he seemed satisfied with that judging by the smile that graced his lips.

“Me too.”

And you could swear by the way his eyes shimmered in that moment that there was something – whatever that may have been – between the both of you. Or maybe it was just the weed.

Regardless of what you guys shared was something different than what you thought it might have been, you grew close very quickly after that evening. Heeseung started to joke around with you in class, you eventually asked him for his number and social media, he started sending you memes occasionally, you started to hang out outside of class in your little friend group.

At one point you were convinced he was actively seeking you out at parties, because ever since that evening, you always bumped into each other sooner or later during the night.

And whatever there might have been that one evening, nothing came of it. However, it almost seemed like you grew closer to Heeseung than all your other friends. People in your friend group would casually call you best friends and the more time passed the more that statement became true.

All occurrences in the past have led you to playing truth or dare on a Thursday night on the floor of your dorm room with each other. And usually that wouldn’t be an issue. Heeseung and you have progressed to a stage in your friendship where you knew almost everything about each other; almost.

You could feel the alcohol running in your system and were sincerely hoping you wouldn’t say something that you’d eventually regret. You just crossed your fingers and hoped for the best.

For the most part the game did run smoothly, it was fun and you had a good time, the only dare you had to do was show them your most embarrassing dance move.

That is until your roommate asked you truth or dare.

“Truth” you chose this time

“What was your first kiss like and who was it with?”

The question in and of itself was harmless, it matched the vibe of the very easy going game they had going on, Nonetheless, you felt put on the spot and before you could stop yourself – because you can’t pull off a lie for the life of you – you blurt out that you’ve never been kissed.

None of your friends seemed super unfazed by this seeing how you’ve not dated one person since you started college but Sofia’s eyes grew double in size.

“Not even a peck on the lips or something?” she questioned a bit bewildered.

You just shook your head, seeing from the corner of your eye how your roommate gave Sofia a light nudge at even asking such a question.

You couldn’t help but risk a short glance at Heeseung and were almost a bit startled when his eyes met yours instantly. He sent you a soft smile upon locking eyes with you. Was that pity you saw in his eyes? Your stomach turned itself upside down.

You really wish you could say it didn’t bother you at all, that at the age of 21 you’ve never kissed someone before. You didn’t want it to be a big deal, it really shouldn’t be a big deal.

But you couldn’t help but think that you lacked something or were one step behind everyone. It felt like missing out on an experience that usually people have in their late teens and early twenties.

You don’t know why it hasn’t happened for you yet. It’s not even that you want it to be with someone really special, the moment has simply never presented itself before and you usually take this for what it is, but right now – Heeseung’s expression burned into your skull – you suddenly feel a bit small.

“It’s not just that” you eventually start to break the silence, not yet realizing that you were about to make this so much worse, “it’s also the fact that even if I’d want to kiss someone, I wouldn’t know how.”

It took your drunken mind a hot minute to catch up with what you just said. Something within you simply wanted to fill the silence but the fact that your filter was basically non-existent due to your tipsy state was not taken into consideration the moment you opened your mouth.

You mentally slapped yourself across the face, this time not having the courage to even glance into Heeseung’s direction.

“It’s not that hard, I can show you!” Your roommate offered enthusiastically, intentions pure.

Your face flushed at the suggestion and you cringed a bit, more out of embarrassment that you ended up in this situation in the first place than by the proposal itself.

“I’ll let you know if I ever want to take you up on that suggestion.” You reply as nonchalantly as you can muster.

It’s not like the thought of asking a friend how to properly kiss has occurred to you before, but you could never quite bring yourself to get the request past your lips.

Your friends laugh at your response and easily move on with the conversation, taking the attention off of you. And that was that. Or at least that’s what you thought…

Two weeks later you enter the lecture hall and already spot Heeseung sitting in his usual spot and just like on autopilot you placed yourself next to him and the both of you exchanged greetings, just like you usually would. You’d also catch up about your weekends and shortly after the lecture started, taking up both of your attention.

It wasn’t until halfway through the lecture that Heeseung poked your shoulder, extending his notebook to you, clearly wanting to show you something.

With blue ink he has written on the page:

“You want me to teach you?”

Your eyebrows furrow, confused at what he meant.

You write down below him:

“Teach me what?” Confusion clear on your face as you watch him write something else.

“How to kiss”

You choked on your own spit.

Heeseung chuckled next to you. You could smack him across the head right now and you made a mental note to do just that once class is over.

Once you collected yourself, you took the pen from Heeseung and wrote three question marks under his proposal.

Why would he offer to teach you in the first place and out of all the places to suggest this to you he chose the middle of your lecture? Why?

He grinned at your question marks and if you didn’t know him any better you thought he was making fun of you. Had any other person done this to you, you’d probably actually have been hurt but first of all you still didn’t know if he was serious and second of all it was Heeseung. You knew him well enough to know he’d never use such a situation to make fun of you.

At that moment the professor seemed to notice your lack of attention and decided to ask you a question directly, returning your attention to the lecture where it stayed until you were dismissed.

The topic didn’t arise again between Heeseung and you even though the whole scenario didn’t seem to be able to leave your mind. At lunch you stared at Heesung making conversation with Jake over something you did not pay attention to, trying to figure him out.

In your head the puzzle pieces were just not fitting. Why would he suggest that all of a sudden? And why was it so hard for you to find an answer to his question…

After the whole frat party thing where you originally became friends, you had developed a small crush on Heeseung that gradually developed as time went by. It’s just after some time had passed and neither of you made any advances towards the other you eventually abandoned the idea of getting with Heeseung and were left with two options, getting over your crush or having to live with your unrequited feelings.

You chose the first option. It took you quite some time but you managed to accept the fact that Heeseung was simply a really good friend and your feelings faded as seasons changed.

You’d be lying saying they ever went away completely. There’s no reason denying that Heeseung was painfully your type and that no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself that you didn’t like him like that anymore, you were attracted to him.

So, saying his suggestion to teach you how to kiss took you by surprise was the understatement of the century.

He probably just tried to be a good friend, right? Your roommate had suggested to teach you as well back then and there were no other intentions behind that, you were certain of that. So, why are you questioning Heeseung so much?

The topic didn’t come up again until one day you were hanging out in your dorm room. Just your roommate, Heeseung and yourself. It was often like that, sometimes Jake was also around but today it was just the three of you, that is at least until your roommate told you that they were heading out for dinner at around six and didn’t know when they’d be back.

Once they left, it was just Heeseung and you left.

Ever since he made his suggestion in class, you dreaded being alone with him, because you didn’t know if the topic would come up again or if you even wanted it to.

Heeseung was lying on your bed, his feet resting on your lap, while you were sitting at the end of the bed, back resting against the wall. Heeseung was scrolling through his phone when you decided to address the elephant in the room, because you figured if he wasn’t the one to bring it up, why shouldn’t you?

“Were you serious?” you simply said, not in any particular tone, just wanting to clear the haze in your head.

“Do you mean about the kissing thing?” He said without looking away from his face. The fact that he instantly knew what you were talking about indicated enough that he was aware it’s been eating at you.

You nod.

He locked his phone and threw it to the side, moving to sit up and also lean his back against the wall so that he can face you.

“I was and I still am.” He said, no trace of irony to be found.

“Why?” You couldn’t help but ask.

He shrugged his shoulders, “It seemed like it bothered you that day. You know, when you told everyone how you’re scared you’d mess up if it comes down to the real thing?”

He teased at you being so open due to liquid courage, a small smile forming on his face as you rolled your eyes at him.

“I was put on the spot and that was the only thing my brain provided at the moment to fill the silence.” You whine more frustrated with yourself than anyone else.

“So, you’re not worried about that?” He asked in return.

It was silent for a moment as you contemplated his question. You could easily dig yourself a way out of this by denying it, convincing him it was mainly the liquor talking. But you and Heeseung were never really the type to lie to each other.

“I am” you eventually admit, not meeting his eyes “I don’t know… It’s a bit silly but like I don’t know anyone my age who hasn’t been kissed before and I feel like it’s gonna be really awkward if the situation arises and I chicken out because I have no idea how to actually kiss someone.”

Heeseung listened to you and took your words in before answering.

“But you know, most first kisses are kinda awkward, I think.”

“Was your first kiss weird at all?” You asked him.

“Yeah, very.” He chuckled, sitting up more on the bed, “it was kinda too much of everything, too much teeth, too much spit, just entirely too much.”

He shuddered a bit, recollecting his first kiss.

“See? And I’d have no idea about any of that.” You said almost a bit frustrated.

“Then let me show you.” He insisted, your eyes meeting.

The way he says it so casually makes you want to rip your hair out.

“It’s just a kiss, right? And it’s me! You don’t have to be embarrassed with me.” He said, eyebrows slightly raised, trying to ease your mind.

You look at him. He looks cozy in his oversized sweatshirt, his body language his usual relaxed self. It was still a bit fascinating how he could take this all so lightly but then again, it really was just a kiss for him.

And you know you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t kiss Heeseung. In fact, your head is screaming at you not to kiss him, because the risk of buried feelings resurfacing is simply too big. But you’d also be lying to yourself if you’d say you weren’t curious what his lips would feel like against yours and it were thoughts like this that’d mean certain doom for you sooner or later.

At your silence Heeseung added “Look, there’s really no pressure at all. I just thought maybe you’d like to know a few things that will help ease your mind, but of course you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

And of course he would say that. Of course he’d go out of his way to reassure you that you’re safe with him and that he respected your choice no matter what. Maybe sharing your first kiss with Heeseung wasn’t that bad of an idea after all. At least like that you could make sure it’s someone who respects you and your boundaries, someone who makes sure you feel safe and comfortable no matter what.

Maybe you could allow yourself this. Maybe having this as the memory of your first kiss wasn’t too bad.

“Like, right now?” You asked, which seemed to surprise Heeseung a little. He must have been convinced you’d turn him down.

“I mean, whenever is fine.” He responded suddenly you could see his cool demeanor crack, spotting a few hints of nervousness behind the cracks.

“I think, I’d be down.” You eventually say after contemplating for another minute.

“Really?” Heeseung’s eyebrows were almost at his hairline.

“Lee Heeseung, if you tell me right now that all of this has been a sick joke of yours after all, I’m ending this friendship right now.”

Panic flashed in his eyes.

“No! No, of course not. I was being serious. I just didn’t think…. I didn’t think you’d agree.” he admitted.

“So, how does this work?” you ask, not knowing where to even start.

“Oh, so you really want to do it right now, I see.” Heeseung mumbled more to himself than anyone in particular.

He scooted slightly closer to you.

“Well, first we gotta get closer.” He moves to sit next to you on the bed, shoulders touching.

You watch him, fascinated at how quickly his shyness has been replaced by his cool, nonchalant demeanours once again.

Heeseung and you have cuddled on more than one occasion before, but this feels different, you’re hyper aware of the place where his shoulder is bumping into yours and your tights are touching. This close, you could smell his cologne and shampoo.

“It’s not that complicated really” he starts explaining.

“If you want to just have a small, simple kiss. We’d both tilt our heads slightly as we get closer. Let me show you.”

He turns towards you, his eyes meeting yours. And you could swear there it was again. That shimmer from the first night the both of you actually talked to each other. You push that thought to the back of your head, the indications behind that too overwhelming for what’s about to happen right now.

His hand hovers above your cheek and you nod, allowing him to gently grab you by the jaw and tilt your head into one direction. The distance between his and your face shrinks as he does so, the pace of your heartbeat picking up in the process.

You could feel his breath against your lips as he spoke again.

“This is usually the point most people close their eyes and then you just… kiss.”

You close your eyes and a moment later you felt the sensation of Heeseung’s lips softly pressing against yours. All thoughts seem to leave your head the instant your lips touched, your heart basically beating out of your chest. It took you a moment to actually process the sensation and just as you were about to lose yourself in the feeling, Heeseung pulled back slightly.

“You know, this is the part where you kiss me back.” He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine and maybe it was all in your head but you could swear his voice sounded different then just a second ago; a bit deeper, maybe even a bit flustered.

“My bad” you said, making Heeseung throw his head back with laughter, making you giggle as well.

It eases your anxiety a bit that even in stations like this, you were able to just laugh with him and easing the tension so easily.

“No worries” he laughed “Wanna try again?”

Again?

What did he mean again? Wasn’t that it?

Despite yourself, you nod.

“Okay, this time make sure to reciprocate the pressure I put against your lips, got it?”

“Got it” you kept your replies fairly short, afraid your voice would fail you otherwise.

Before you knew it, Heeseung was leaning in again.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

You close your eyes and soon after you feel the now familiar pressure of his lips again, this time making sure to kiss him back. Without thinking about it, your hand found its way onto Heeseung’s neck, where your fingers absentmindedly played with hair as you were kissing him.

This kiss lasted longer than the first one, you could feel Heeseung moving against you and followed his lead. It was easier to flow into the rhythm than you’d have thought, his lips soft and gentle against yours.

You were starting to feel lightheaded as he pulled away again and you had to resist the urge to chase after his lips.

“That was pretty good” he said, slightly out of breath, his pupils slightly dilated, his gaze fixed on your lips before he looked up at you.

“Also the thing you did with your hand, it seems like you’re a natural.” He chucked.

That’s when you saw your hand still resting against his neck, you instantly pulled it away once your brain caught up to what he was saying.

“Oh, I didn’t even realize…”

For a second there was a silence between the both of you; a silence that wasn’t quiet at all. You couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of him and neither could he. You could probably cut the tension with a knife.

“And what if… what if I’d want it to get more intense, you know?”

Heeseung’s eyebrows shot up.

“More intense?” He said, knowing very well what you were implying.

“I get how just kissing someone on the lips like that might not be that hard but what if– what if it goes further?”

Heeseung cleared his throat at your words and sat up straighter.

“You mean, if you would want to deepen the kiss?” He inquired.

You just nod, looking up at him, not failing to notice the light blush that’s starting to form on his cheeks, matching your own flusteredness.

“You want me to show you as well?”

You nod. Something about how his lips feel against yours was addictive, making you throw all your previous reservations out of the window.

“It’s kinda hard to explain though. I’d just have to show you?” He said, a bit unsure.

“That’s okay.”

“Okay so, basically you start with a kiss just like we shared before. You’ll just have to let me lead, okay?”

Something about the way he said that sent a shiver down your spine, words refusing to leave your mouth so you just nod.

Soon enough, his lips were on yours again and even though you were only separated for a few minutes, you already started to miss the sensation and the tingle it made you feel in your stomach and chest. Naturally, your hand found its way back into his hair.

Suddenly, you felt his tongue brush against your bottom lip and your heart took a leap. Instinctively, you opened your mouth for him. A few moments pass and he starts licking gently into your mouth.

You actively have to suppress sounds that were starting to build in the back of your throat at the sensation.

You could also feel one of his hands pressing against your waist while the other one was busy cupping your cheek.

Without much thinking you pressed forward, wanting to match his eagerness, which led to your teeth clinking against each other to which Heeseung pulled back slightly, chuckling.

“Take it slow, yeah?” He said, his face still incredibly close to yours.

As you nod at his remark he dives back in, taking you by surprise a bit. You were welcoming the touch of lips nonetheless.

This time you tried to dial down your eagerness and gently let his tongue guide yours, your insides turning into mush in the process.

Without thinking you slightly pulled at his hair, making him hum against your lips.

He must like that? you think to yourself.

Your stomach did a 360 at the thought of stirring him on further.

At this point your tongues were dancing with each other gently, no trance of any kind of hesitation left, the feeling leaving your head dizzy and your heart fluttering.

The way Heeseung kept pulling you in by your jaw and how his grip on your hip was getting tighter.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a really long time.” He suddenly blurts out in between kisses and if you wouldn’t be so lost in the feeling of his lips on yours you’d stop to question his statement, but right now your heart simply leaped in your chest.

Overcome by a sudden wave of braveness, you swung one of your legs across his lap, straddling him. Heeseung looked at you starstruck, his hands instantly finding their way to your hips caressing them.

You took the time to look at him for a moment, his pupils were practically blown out and he looked so pretty with kiss swollen lips, glistering with both of your spit.

This was the first time you initiated the kiss, he easily reciprocated.

The kisses were sometimes still a bit sloppy but neither you nor Heeseung seemed to care, too lost in the feeling of each other’s bodies pressed against each other.

His hands were traveling up your sides and down your tights again and you were drowning in this feeling, of his hands touching you; exploring you. Soon enough, him trying to teach you how to kiss turned into a full on make out session.

That was until your roommate burst into the room without any announcement, making you jump off of Heeseung in an instant, cursing your body for immediately missing his closeness.

You both looked guilty and flustered as your roommate looked the both of you up and down.

“My bad, I’m just here to grab my charger. Continue with what you’ve been doing. It was only a matter of time until this happened anyway.”

They said and were gone as quickly as they had arrived.

You and Heeseung looked at each other for a second. Both of you burst into laughter shortly after.

“I think at some point we should really have a conversation about what exactly this is between us.” He gestured between the both of you after recovering from the sudden interruption.

And you were glad he brought it up because you think your heart would have been shattered into a hundred pieces if this didn’t have the same effect on him as it had on you; making your stomach flutter, turning your insides into mush, craving more.

“Better sooner than later, right?” you smile at him, hope filling your heart.

feel free to let me know your thoughts <3

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