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honeyhotteoks · 11 months ago

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lessons in intimacy (k.ys)

summary: you didn't mean to actually meet the man who's audio porn was single handedly getting you off every night, but you do.

note: this has been a looooong time coming and is dedicated to one of my best friends, grace. 💗 i hope everyone enjoys this chaotic smut fest.... also i've recently discovered that porn is actually illegal to produce or consume in korea? so suspend your disbelief for this fic lol

warnings: camboy!yeosang/barista!yeosang x fem!reader, it's a smut-a-thon barely a plot in sight featuring - nsfw/audio porn, guided masturbation, female masturbation, male masturbation, lots and lots of orgasms, use of dildo, nipple play, one night stand dynamics except they kind of fall for each other, big and i mean big dick yeosang, oral sex (f receiving), gratuitous squirting, fingering, thigh riding/grinding, protected and unprotected sex (do not do this they're being hella dumb), rough sex, maaaaaajor praise play he says good girl more times than i can count, so much use of 'baby', plus pretty girl/babygirl, absolute pleasure soft dom yeosang of our dreams, reader literally passes out from coming you're welcome

pairings: yeosang x reader

genre: smut and more smut, where's the plot???

word count: 14.5K

additional note: yeosang owns a cafe in this fic called ongozisin, it's a real cafe in seoul and you can check out their ig here! the vibes are truly so yeosang i can't even articulate it, so i just wanted to share this for the extra visual!

Paid porn for women has tiers. You stumble headfirst into this realization with your fingers stuffed inside yourself and your body slick with sweat, and there’s nothing that takes you right out of your frantic self care session than a request for your credit card number and a terms of service page.

Your chest is heaving, legs shaking, and you feel your orgasm slip right through your fingers as you skim over his Fansly page. You should have just skipped to another one of his free audios on Pornhub like you always do, but this week was long and stressful and slightly emotionally fraught, and there’s only so many times you can ignore his husky little ad at the end of the audio file inviting you to check out the full, uncut content.

“Jesus,” You breathe, pushing yourself up in the bed and letting your phone drop to the side as you recover your breath.

Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to pay for porn? The internet is full of it, spilling over from every angle with any little thing you can imagine. There’s a reason Rule 34 exists, people are horny and people love attention, so if you can fathom it there’s free porn of it.

And yet, nothing ever, ever gets you there like he does, and you’ve never even seen his face.

You glance down at your phone again and you see his familiar header image, a deeply contrasted black and white header of tangled white sheets, and his username striking across the corner in neon green. fromryu. This is what drew you in initially, the simplicity of it all. You were sick of skimming through all of the men making porn for women with names like ‘TheMasterDominant’, ‘Your_Daddy’, or ‘forherpleasureee’ and then just listening to them groan in your ear and call you a slut for fifteen minutes. That might work for some, but it definitely doesn’t work for you.

Ryu was different, is different. His audios are a mix of scenario based role-plays and straight forward guided masturbation for women, and you’re pretty sure he comes right along with you when you listen, but it’s just not the same.

You’ve fucked yourself to every single one of his free audios. Some of them more than once, some of them several times, if you’re being honest. You’ve always ignored his ads, because he gives so much content away for free you can’t imagine what would be behind a paywall that would get you off harder, until today.

Your brain just couldn’t get there. You’ve heard him chuckle that chuckle before, say that line before, coax you into orgasm with those exact words before, and you need more.

Your credit card is firmly in your hand before you can give it another thought, and with a fluttering stomach you tuck yourself into a robe and back into bed to pick a tier. With a long sip of a fresh glass of wine you lean back in your pillows and read through his welcome page.

His tiers make you smirk, he’s funny.

Third base, full uncut audios and one special audio per month just for subscribers – $4.99/month

Just the tip, uncut audios, one special audio per month, and access to a private discord server where subscribers can make audio request submissions – $9.99/month

Every inch (and more), uncut audios, exclusive audios, access to discord, exclusive video content, and access to a private Snapchat - $24.99/month

In for a penny, in for a pound, you guess.

You click on ‘Every inch (and more)’ and plug in your card numbers before you have a second to rethink your decision. You really hope you don’t get hit with a fraud alert that you have to explain to some poor customer service representative.

The wheel spins, the charge goes through, and suddenly you’re in. Your mouth has never been so dry.

There’s dozens of videos, dozens. For every audio you’ve listened to on Pornhub, there’s a video that goes with it, and for every free piece of content there’s two times as much paid video content. $24.99 was nothing compared to how many hours of content you’re suddenly sifting through.

There’s a common thread across every video though, you can already tell from the thumbnails, Ryu still never shows his face. Almost every thumbnail is the same, a white wall and a charcoal gray couch, and a man wearing oversized black sweatpants and a tight black athletic shirt.

His knees are parted, legs spread open and casual, and his hands rest clasped between them. You swallow thickly at the sight of his arms. He’s built. His hands are so good looking you think idly that he should just be modeling watches or something, it’s ridiculous how nice they are. His skin is tanned, veins snaking up his forearms, and silver rings across several of his long, thick fingers. Can the sight of a man’s hands make you come? Your aching clit throbs.

You skim through the video titles and tags to try and select one and your stomach twists. His videos are even more varied than the free content he posts and organized so well you think you might be in love with him already.

There’s a folder for role play videos, and you skim through that quickly just to see. Neighbor overhears you moaning and comes to check on you, best friend takes your virginity, boss and secretary working late, brother’s best friend slips into your room at a sleepover, step-daddy teaches his babygirl a lesson.

Your cheeks flush hot pink and you settle further into your sheets, backing out of this folder and navigating to your tried and true favorite.

Guided masturbation and encouragement.

There are even more videos in this folder and you skim through any of those ones that say ‘exclusive’ in the title to avoid ones you’ve already heard parts of. The hashtags alone leave you breathless and you have no idea what to choose, every video cleanly tagged with what you’ll need to be able to keep up with his instructions. Hands only, rabbit vibe, hitachi wand, bullet vibe, dildo, butt plug, nipple clamps, lubricant, massage oil, blindfold, wrist restraints, ankle restraints, the list goes on and on.

You select one at almost random with the tags ‘hands and fingers’, ‘dildo’, and ‘optional squirting’.

The screen starts black, and for a second you’re pretty sure something’s wrong, but then you hear him.

“Hi everyone,” Your muscles melt, and you push your noise canceling earbuds deeper into your ears, “I have something a little special today,”

You’ve never heard him talk so casually, almost like a vlogger or something. His voice hasn’t yet shifted into that deep teasing tone that kicks off every free video, and you’re already sold on every dollar you’ve spent when he starts to just chat.

“I got a request from a special subscriber in my discord,” He says, “someone who’s become a friend and who confided in me that she’s never been able to make herself squirt,”

Your breath comes a little more quickly.

“It’s not easy to do, I know,” He says, tenderly, the screen still black, “and I want you all to know that if you’re still struggling after this audio, that’s okay. It takes time, and your body is not a sex toy. There’s not a perfect combination that works for every person with a vagina,”

Your brow quirks at the inclusivity of his language choice and you smile a little, easing yourself down in the bed to keep listening to him.

“But I’m going to do my best to help you,” He continues, “so while I get set up over here, I need you to get your own space ready. Get up out of bed or off the couch, but keep me with you, okay, baby?”

You’re shaking and he hasn’t even said anything sexy yet. You don’t always listen perfectly to instructions, sometimes you skip ahead a bit and get to the good stuff just to get yourself off, but this time it’s different. You tuck your phone in your robe pocket and stand.

“For this session,” You can almost see the smile in his voice and you try to imagine him, “you’ll need a couple of good towels laid out across your space. You’ll need to drink a big glass of water before we get started, and then I want you to find your best dildo, the one that really makes you come hard. The one that fills you up just right, that hits that tender little place you wish I was touching with my fingers,”

He’s going to make you come so hard you see Jesus, you can tell already.

“We need everything to be perfect,” He says, “and for you to be comfortable. Tonight is not the night to test out that new toy, okay? Tonight is for you and me, so go and get your supplies, and I’ll tell you all about my day. I’ll be your favorite little sexy podcast.”

As he starts warmly talking to his audience about his long lazy morning off work, you nearly crumble. You’re really not supposed to be getting a crush on this guy, but here you fucking are. He’s sweet, casual and laughs a little while he talks, and while you gather up the towels and the water and the frankly oversized dildo, you’re smiling.

You hear him sit down and sigh and then his voice shifts, just a little, “Alright, baby, are you ready?”

You sink back back down to sit on your own bed and you wait.

“Just a reminder,” He says, “I will be using female descriptors throughout this video. If you’re uncomfortable with me calling you ‘girl’, like babygirl or good girl, or referring to you as a woman in any way, I am posting the similar content with male descriptors. If you’d prefer to hear baby boy or good boy, check the links below this video, okay?”

You smile again.

“Alright,” He hums, “now, where were we?”

The camera clicks on and you feel the little gasp leave you. You almost forgot.

He leans back on the couch and keeps talking, “That’s right, the lesson. Get settled over the towels, and if you’re wearing anything, it’s time to take it off for me.”

You lay back over the towels and let your robe part open.

“That’s so good,” He croons softly, “god, you’re so pretty, baby,”

Your chest thumps hard.

“Let’s start slow, okay?” His hands smooth over his thighs, “the key here is teasing, and I know how much you like it when I tease you.”

Your hand rests on your own thigh, your other propping up the phone as you watch with rapt attention.

“Touch your pretty thighs for me,” His voice is rich and thick in your ears, “that’s a good girl, there we go, nice and soft. Is your pussy wet? Did I do that to you again, pretty girl?”

You’re barely breathing, eyes fixated on the screen as he strokes his own thigh through his sweatpants, slow and steady.

“Are you aching?” He asks and you can’t help but nod, feeling like suddenly he can see you through the screen.

“Touch just a little,” He murmurs, “but don’t jump ahead. Keep your fingers off your clit, we’re not there yet, sweetheart.”

A little tight sound slips out of you as you follow his instructions.

“Is your sweet slit wet?” He hums, and his hand slides up his thigh and rests over his stomach, “Are you throbbing?”

Fuck.

“Someday, baby,” He sighs and you watch him shift on the couch cushions, “I’ll taste you,”

“Fuck,” You whisper.

“But for now,” He’s smiling, you know it, “you just need to listen to me and do everything I tell you,”

You’re nodding again.

“I promise,” He says, “I’ll take such good care of you baby, if you listen, I promise to make you come.”

Your stomach clenches, core fluttering, and you drift your fingertips up and down your slit, following the way his middle finger is slowly sliding back and forth on his abs.

“Are you listening?” His voice goes husky and your head drops back into the pillows. Next time you’ll need a better way to watch him and listen and touch yourself, but you’re so incredibly desperate at this moment that it really doesn’t matter, you’ll make due.

“You are, aren’t you?” He murmurs, “Good girl,”

Your legs spread a little wider.

He leans forward, you hear the rustling of the fabric and you snap your eyes back to the video to see him leaning forward, hands clasped together loosely, and you’re pretty sure you can see the outline of a bulge in his sweatpants.

“Does it hurt?” He croons, teasing.

You love him like this.

“Take your hand away from your pussy,” He says, just a little more commanding, “right now, baby,”

You pull it back reluctantly.

“Close your eyes for a minute,” He murmurs, “spread your legs for me,”

You comply immediately.

“Tease your nipples,” He sounds a little breathier now and you fight the urge to watch the video, “do whatever feels good, touch your tits exactly the way you like it,”

You roll your nipples, tugging them softly and kneading your breasts with both hands now that you’re not propping up the phone.

“Imagine me with you,” He says, “feel my fingers sliding up your calves, my lips on your inner thigh, you can feel my breath against your sweet cunt, I know you can,”

You’re about to come untouched, that’s the thought that rocks through your mind when your hips jerk on their own, his deep voice nestled right in your ear.

“Look at you,” He muses, “squirming around, so fucking desperate for something inside you,”

Your breath catches.

“You’re so needy,” He continues, “are you making noise for me? Little pants, little moans? Are you trying to be quiet?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth, a soft scold, “Not with me, baby,”

A moan bubbles up out of you.

“Hands off.”

Your eyes open immediately, and you don’t pull your hands away just yet, but you’re frozen still. You’re breathing hard, blush climbing up your chest, and your hips jerk slightly. If he doesn’t let you touch yourself soon, you’re going to lose your mind.

“Good girl,” He says after a moment, “very good,”

You drop your hands, scrambling for the phone so you can see what he’s going to do next.

“Now watch me,” He instructs, holding his palm up to the camera, “take two fingers,” he separates his fingers, keeping his middle and index fingers tucked together, “and when they’re inside curl them just like this.” He crooks his fingers in a come-hither motion, “Just like this,”

You slide your hand down your front, slipping your fingers through your soaked folds, but his voice makes you pause.

“Go slow,” He instructs, “push them in nice and slow for me,”

You follow his instructions.

“There you go,” He sighs softly, “now curl your fingers,”

You watch as he does it in the video and you follow instructions dutifully, your fingers brushing over your spongy g-spot.

“Feel that?” He leans back, and the tent in his sweatpants makes you pant, “That perfect little spot that makes you whine so good for me?”

You nod again, biting down on your lip, desperate to move but waiting.

“When I say,” He slips his fingertips into his sweatpants, teasing you, “fuck your perfect pussy with those fingers,”

Sweat drips down your chest.

His hand disappears into his sweats and he groans, “Now,”

You don’t have to be told twice.

“Harder,” He says, throaty and low, “I know you can,”

A tight sound slips out of you as you work yourself, but you nearly fall apart when you watch him push down the top of his sweats. His cock is huge, there’s no other way to say it. Thick and perfect, aching pink at the head and when he wraps his hand around himself you feel the tense knot of your orgasm rushing back.

“Oh, f-fuck,” You scramble in the sheets, pulsing your fingers in and out just like he told you to.

“Look at you,” He says again, “fucking yourself for me. I bet you’re imagining my fingers, aren’t you? Just like I’m imagining your dripping pussy,”

Pleasure rocks in your gut.

“Use your other hand,” He instructs, “rub that clit for me,”

You drop the phone like it’s hot, and you have to crane your neck to see the video, but it doesn’t matter. He’s given you the perfect permission to do exactly what you need and you have to take it.

“Does that feel good, baby? Yeah? Do you feel like you need to come for me?” His voice gets closer to the microphone and you’re rapidly approaching the edge, “You’re so close, fuck, listen to you,”

“God, oh god,” Your legs are trembling.

“Do you see how hard you make me?” His fist jerks over his cock faster and your mind is unraveling, none of his other audios feel like this, “Do you know how much I want to see you come?”

Pressure drops in your belly.

“Fuck,” He pants, “you’re almost there, I know you want to come for me, but not until I say,”

It’s happening whether he wants it to or not, whether you want it or not, and your fingers bear down harder on your clit, your eyes locking closed, head falling back.

“Hands off,” He’s not teasing anymore, he’s telling, “right now, babygirl, hands off.”

You pull your hands away and it’s possible that nothing has ever felt as bad as this one stolen orgasm. Your hands are shaking, body flushed and slick with sweat, and if any of your neighbors are up they are probably getting an earful.

You lock eyes with the video again and his hands rest on his knees, cock standing tall and at attention, edging with you.

“Get that dildo nice and wet,” He says, and you search your sheets for the silicone cock, “in your mouth pretty girl, imagine that’s my cock between your lips,”

He strokes his hand slowly down his length, smearing a bead of precum down to the base of his shaft as you dip the cock between your lips and take it as far in your mouth as you can.

“It’s time to come,” He soothes, like he knows you’re a whining, quivering mess, “I know you need it,”

The dildo pops free from your mouth and you watch as he lifts the hem of his shirt to expose the smooth plane of his abs, “Fuck yourself with me, sweetheart,”

Pleasure pops through you as you press the toy to your hot channel.

“Nice and fast,” He pleads, thrusting into his fist, “don’t stop this time, not until you come,”

The bubble inside you expands again, pressure everywhere.

“Just trust me,” He whispers in your ear, “don’t stop. I’ve got you, I’m right here, you let go baby. Don’t fight it,”

Your back arches up off the bedding, the muscles in your arm aching as you thrust the toy in and out of yourself, pressing it up again and again into your g-spot.

“Come, baby,” He sounds like he’s begging, and your free hand flies down to grip the sheets, “let go, you come, that’s it, there you go,”

You turn your head, catching sight of him again and the way he works himself over.

“There we go,” He groans sharply, his own release spurting up ropes of cum onto his exposed chest, “can you feel me inside you? Come with me, that’s a good girl, good fucking girl,”

He sounds dizzy, panting himself, you’ve never heard him quite like this and one final thrust sends you spilling over the edge. Your vision whites, body locking up in ecstatic pleasure, and you clap a hand over your lips to stifle the moan that rips out of you.

It takes a minute to come back from that. Your ears ringing, and the dildo slips out of you with a final pulse from your shattering orgasm. He’s talking, you register it, but his voice sounds far away and you realize that you’ve lost your earbuds. You scramble to get them back in, pulling the video up to your eyes.

“-And that’s okay,” He’s saying, his cock tucked away and his shirt back down, “you can try again another time if you didn’t quite get there,”

For a second you’re confused, it was the hardest orgasm of your life, but then you remember this was intended to be a guided masturbation to squirt and you blush, alone in your apartment, at the fact that you didn’t quite get there and he’s talking to you.

“It’s all about the build up,” He explains, “but I’m sure with a little practice we can get you there.”

You’ve never really cared about squirting until now, but he makes it sound like a perfect date and something tells you that you’ll be back here again night after night if he’ll have you.

“Anyway,” He sighs and you hope he’s smiling above the camera, “thank you for spending a little bit of your day with me, I hope I made you feel as good as you made me feel,”

You blush again.

“I’ll see you soon,” He assures, gentle like a lover would, “sleep well, jagiya,”

The video cuts and you blink hard, you’re still smiling.

You are so, so fucked.

After that, Ryu becomes a problem. You wish it was just the videos and the dirty talk and the good orgasms, but it’s more than that. You just like to hear him talk now, the little bits at the beginning about his day are starting to get into your head. And then there’s the Snapchat.

You kind of expected the private Snap to be sexy photos and videos of him in the almost pitch dark huskily saying good morning, but it isn’t. You still have never seen his face, but his videos are casual, friendly, too real for a man you spend every night fantasizing about. He chats about things he’s doing or books he’s reading while he’s cooking, filming just shoulders down so you can watch the muscles in his arms while he chops vegetables. You fall in love with the sound of his voice when he’s just talking, his stretched out s-sounds that only really peek through outside of his constructed scenes. You find yourself missing him a little on days he doesn’t post.

You’ve gotten used to waking up with him, falling asleep with him, checking in on him during the day. His message announcements in Snapchat don’t feel like they’re for everyone, they feel like they’re for you. You know that’s not true of course, you know you’re paying a hefty monthly bill just to feel like this, but you don’t care. It’s been a while, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t just need some company.

It’s a Thursday when everything goes to shit.

You wake up far too late, forgetting to set the alarm on your phone after falling asleep directly after yet another Ryu narrated orgasm, and everything has been off kilter since. You’re scrambling to get to work on time and every little thing is going wrong. Your coffee machine isn’t turning on, the sweater you want to wear is still in the wash, and your umbrella will not open despite the rain that’s ruining what would have been a good hair day.

When you decide to stop into the coffee shop across from your office it’s not even a want, it's a need. You’re already thirty minutes late, why not make it forty-five?

You’ve never come here, not once. You’re used to going to the shop around the block from your apartment, and this place is new. Ongozisin is the kind of place you’d normally take your time in. The space is clearly industrial, concrete walls and flooring made to look unfinished. The aesthetic is still warm though, with natural dark wood furniture and bamboo accents, Joseon era paintings and a juniper bonsai along the back wall.

To the left side of the cafe stands a bay of tall windows and the very modern, very clean point of sale. The line isn’t too long, but you can see that the pace of this place is slower by design, so maybe you’ll just round up and call it an hour late. A door opens to your left and you watch as one of the baristas steps out from a kitchen holding two black plates of colorful, carefully constructed pastries.

The line moves ahead of you, and the person behind you softly clears their throat to jog your attention.

You step closer, only one person ahead of you now.

When you hear his voice you nearly reach for your phone.

“That’s perfect,” It’s Ryu, clear as day. His voice is distinct and deep and here.

Your eyes snap up to the barista behind the counter, your body frozen stock still as you take him in, mind spinning.

“Do you want any cream?” He says to the woman ordering.

Blush lights up your cheeks and all you can think about is the video you watched the night before and his voice in your ear - Do you want my cum inside you, pretty baby?

You should leave. There’s a reason this man is anonymous on the internet, never showing an inch of his face, and Ryu isn’t even his name, it's just what you call him. He never calls himself anything in the videos, never reveals what part of Korea he lives in, never talks about his job. He doesn’t want to be found.

You’re about to turn, run, scramble away, but his voice comes again and this time you realize he’s talking to you. The man, Ryu, smiles, “Good morning, can I get you something?”

You’re frozen.

“Miss?” A little crease between his brows.

“Sorry,” You jump forwards, ignoring the annoyed huff behind you and shaking off as much of this panic as you can, “I don’t know where my head is this morning,”

“That’s alright,” He says warmly, “that’s what I’m here for,”

You can’t say anything, your mind blanks.

His eyes flick over you and then he nods, “You know, coffee? To wake you up?”

“Right!” You nod, “Sorry, yes, an americano please,”

“Iced or hot?” He asks.

Are you feeling hot, babygirl? Do you need to take something off for me?

“Hot,” You say it on a reflex but then you remember yourself, “no sorry, iced, iced please,”

“Okay, sure,” He smiles, “iced,”

You make it through payment without too much more embarrassment, apologizing again, and then you step to the side. Another barista appears, slotting into Ryu’s place so he can turn his attention to the drinks he needs to make and you take the moment to get composed.

He’s handsome, that’s a given. You expected that, but still he looks even better than your imagination conjured up, more real. He looks exactly right for this cafe too, his black hair long enough to brush the base of his neck with half gathered into a ponytail, pieces loose to frame his angular face. He’s dressed smartly too, black oversized trousers and a fitted black t-shirt, slim black boots, and an open jacket in a dramatic modern-hanbok style. You realize you’re staring the minute his eyes hold on yours and they crinkle up as he smiles. He has a birthmark, a smooth light pink flush across his eye and your heart thumps in your chest.

“Long night?” He asks you, passing off a coffee in a mug to the woman who had been ahead of you in line.

He just puts you at ease and you nod, “Something like that,”

“Ah,” He knocks out the round cake of used espresso from the portafilter as he talks, “and you look like you got caught in the rain, don’t you have an umbrella?”

“Broken,” You grimace, “it’s been one of those mornings,”

“Mm,” He nods, focusing on queueing up espresso for your americano, but while the shots pull he turns back to you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?”

You shake your head, “No, first time,”

“Do you like it?” He gestures around with a nod of his head.

“Very much,” You smile, “it’s a great space,”

He smiles again, looking proud, “I’m glad you like it,” he says, “we haven’t been open very long, but so far people have seemed to enjoy it,”

“Oh,” You watch him pour your espresso over ice, “is the cafe yours?”

He nods, “Mine and my friend’s,”

You wish you weren’t late, you wish you were able to stay just a little longer.

“Well,” You tell him honestly, “it’s beautiful here, I’ll have to come in more often, I only work across the street.”

“Ah,” He nods, “I thought you looked familiar,”

Blush creeps up your neck.

“Did you need cream?” He asks and you hope he doesn’t notice the way your pulse quickens at his words, but he nods towards your coffee and you shake your head.

“Thank you,” You take the cup off the bar and step back, “I appreciate it.”

“I hope that helps,” He says, and then he glances behind you at the large round window, “actually, I’m sorry, can you wait one moment?”

“Sure,” You watch him duck out from behind the bar, making a quick beeline for the swinging door that leads back into the kitchen. You have no idea what he could want, there’s no way you’d be recognized by him except as a stranger on the street, and your stomach knots up.

It takes him a moment, but he darts back out, a long black umbrella in his hand, “Take this,”

“I can’t do that,” You wave a hand, “I’m only across the street, but that’s really kind of you,”

“If you’re only across the street then I know where to go to get it back,” He shakes his head, “just take it, it’s raining like crazy out there,”

He presses the handle of the umbrella into your free hand, and your breath catches in your throat, his skin brushing against yours. Your eyes flick over his rings, just the same as always. A signet with a deep black stone, a hammered silver band, a clearly vintage one on his index finger that looks like an old Catholic saint token, the finer details rubbed away with age.

“What time do you close?” You ask, accepting the umbrella.

“Seven,”

“I’ll bring it back after work then,” You tell him, “is that alright?”

He nods, “But if it’s still raining, just keep it. Bring it by tomorrow,”

“Tomorrow,” You nod.

“Mhm,” He nods, something warm in his expression, “this will have to be your new usual spot,”

Is he flirting? You’re wholly and entirely unprepared to deal with that considering the way you moaned his name last night. Something clicks in your brain at that thought though and you nod, “Maybe it will. I’m y/n, by the way,”

“Yeosang,” He smiles, “it’s very nice to meet you.”

Yeosang.

“You too,” You dip your head, “and thank you again for this,”

“Of course,” He says, “I hope this turns your morning around a little,”

You open your mouth to say something, but there’s a voice from the cafe bar that slices cleanly between your conversation, “Yeosang-ah!”

Yeosang glances back and then he sighs, just a little, “I have to go,” he tells you, “but I’ll see you again,”

“See you again,”

He’s back behind the bar before you can blink, focusing on each customer’s order. The man who called his name is grinning, and you wonder idly if he’s the friend who owns the cafe with Yeosang or just a part-timer.

With your stomach fluttering, you push out into the rain to get to work, Yeosang’s name on a loop in your brain for the rest of the day. When you get home, his umbrella resting by the door, you delete his Snapchat from your contacts and unsubscribe from his Fansly account.

Ongozisin becomes a daily ritual.

The money you used to spend on his Fansly now goes straight into the cafe, first thing in the morning before work and a last lingering stop in the evening before you go home.

On busy days you barely get to see him and sometimes you’re left just chatting with Wooyoung, his best friend and business partner. You like him too, you like the atmosphere and their kind warmth, but if you’re being honest you find yourself living for slow days. The days where you’ve timed it just right to have a little talk before the rush of the day or the closing tasks of the evening.

Little by little, Ryu fades from your mind, and the man in front of you is just Yeosang. The guy who runs your favorite coffee shop, the guy who dresses almost otherworldly, who smiles wide but only when you say something truly funny, who sometimes gets lost in his own head while he’s making cappuccinos.

He’s lovely.

Sometimes you think he might be flirting, a little more suavely and charismatic than his business partner who asked if you had a crush on him since you were coming into the cafe so much. Sometimes Yeosang adds a little extra treat to your plate of food or he adds pretty latte art to your cup if you’re staying in the cafe. That might be nothing, but it certainly might be something.

It isn’t until another day of rain, harsh pelting rain, that Yeosang appears at your table.

“We close soon,” He says, and when he sees the brief flash of concern that you’ve overstayed your welcome on your face he shakes his head, “sorry, I meant to ask, how are you getting home tonight?”

“The train,” You glance outside.

His nose crinkles, “You don’t have an umbrella today either,”

“True,” You look down at your belongings, “I didn’t check the weather,”

“If you wait a bit for us to lock up,” He says, “I’d be happy to walk you to the station,”

“Oh,”

“Or if you’re not busy,” He clears his throat softly, “I could walk you to this little restaurant around the corner?”

Flirting, then.

You smile and nod, trying to keep your eagerness tamped down to a normal amount, “Are you asking me out, Yeosang?”

He grins, “I’ve been trying to,”

Your stomach flips pleasantly, “I’ll wait, dinner sounds nice,”

His shoulders sag, a little relief in his expression and he clears away your empty cup as he says, “I’ll be quick,”

You catch Wooyoung slapping his friend's shoulder as he disappears into the back room, and before you know it you’re blushing and sitting across from this man at the restaurant down the block.

Dinner is so smooth it feels surreal. It turns out you both like the same music, and several books too, and you’ve never been on a date with a man who asked you so many questions about yourself and didn’t just talk your ear off. Dinner stretches long too, and you’re strangely grateful it’s a Friday when you finally do check the time. He has to work on Saturday at the cafe, but not until a little later in the morning, and so neither one of you really wants to call it quits.

The after dinner walk turns meandering, and then his hand is brushing against yours, knuckles to knuckles.

You don’t think of him as Ryu until his fingers brush down your back, lips close to your ear when he finally asks you. The way he does makes your body melt - I hope I’m not ruining things by asking, but would you like to come home with me tonight?

You agree before your mind catches up to itself, but every step of the walk to his apartment has your heart picking up speed. You had forgotten on the date how you met him, really met him, and your gut churns.

Do you tell him? Do you lie?

Everytime he grins at you, touches you, tucks his long hair behind his ear and nods, you can’t imagine a one night stand. You could maybe swallow the truth if that’s all this was to you, but it’s not, and so you can’t.

On his block you feel the internal countdown ticking.

“You can change your mind, you know,” He offers, noticing how you’ve gone quiet, and it pulls you straight out of your thoughts.

“Oh,” Your head snaps up, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to change my mind at all, I just got a little lost in thought.”

He nods, this time finding your hand and giving you a squeeze, his steps slowing as you approach his building, “Can I ask what about?”

You nod, returning the soft pulse of his hand in yours before separating your skin from his. His eyes flick down to your hands, and then back up to your eyes.

“I have a bit of a confession,” You swallow hard, “something I think I should tell you before we go upstairs,”

“Okay,” He leans against the stone wall behind him, “is everything alright?”

“I hope so,” You nod, “I just feel like there’s something I should say now, and if it makes you uncomfortable at all, just be honest. I’ll go home, no hard feelings,”

“y/n,” His brows draw together in confusion, “what’s going on?”

You take a deep breath, taking a step back to get a little breathing room, “I recognized you when I came into the cafe that first day,”

“Recognized me?”

“Yeah,” You clear your throat, your chest feeling tight, “for the past few months I’ve been… a subscriber,”

“A subscriber,” He repeats, and for a brief flickering second you wonder to yourself if this man just looks and sounds and feels exactly like Ryu but isn’t, but then his face blanches, “oh,”

“I’m not anymore,” You shake your head, “and clearly you like your privacy, so I didn’t know how to just come out and say it, but if you’re actually interested in me and not just being flirty at the cafe then I just can’t lie to you… I don’t want to start something with a lie,”

He’s quiet, and then his eyes flick down.

It was so, so nice while it lasted.

“I should have told you sooner,” Your stomach flips and you take another step back, “and I completely understand that you’re upset, I’ll just, I won’t say anything to anyone and it was lovely getting to know you, and I’m sorry, I’ll go,”

His head snaps up, “Go? y/n, stop, slow down,”

His hands smooth down your forearms as he jumps forwards, pulling you gently back towards him. Your heart is beating so loud you can practically hear it, “I’m sorry,”

“I’m not upset,” He assures, “can we go inside to talk? I don’t want to do this in the street,”

You nod, letting him lead you through the garden gate and up towards the house, but his words pulse on a loop in your mind. You hope he’s good at letting you down easy because this hurts. You should have known it that first day at the cafe, you should have stayed away and not played with fire.

His house is small, but very nice and despite being sparsely decorated, you like it. You feel trapped in the entryway so unsure of what to do in this space, especially when you recognize the corner of his gray couch.

“Can I get you a drink or something?” He interrupts your thoughts, “I have wine, probably some soju, and a bottle of truly undrinkable Japanese whisky,”

“Undrinkable?” You blink.

“I think it’s supposed to be very good if you like whisky,” He explains, “it was a gift,”

“Ah,” You couldn’t feel more awkward if you tried, “wine, I guess?”

“Okay,” He smiles, a close lipped polite smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes, “well, make yourself comfortable, I’ll get us a drink and then we can talk,”

“Sure,” You’re still frozen as he walks away down the hall to what you presume is the kitchen. It takes a minute to unstick yourself, but you make your way to the couch and wait.

He returns with two glasses of red wine and then he sits in the chair opposite you, not on the stretch of couch next to you.

“Sorry,” You take the wine, stomach flip flopping, “I know this isn’t how you thought the night would go,”

“Mm,” He nods, taking a sip of his drink.

“I don’t know what to say,” You tell him honestly.

He nods, looking anywhere but at you until he finally meets your eyes again, “You’re not a subscriber anymore?”

“No,” You tell him firmly.

“Why?” He asks, and the question hangs between you.

“When I recognized you at the cafe and you were being so nice to me,” You explain, “it occurred to me that something might happen between us, as friends or otherwise, and it just felt wrong to know you as Yeosang and then… engage with your content that is clearly anonymous and meant to be private. I didn’t want to do that without you knowing,”

He nods, setting his glass on the nearby coffee table, “I see,”

“You are keeping it private, right? I feel like you’re careful to not overshare,”

“Yes,” He nods, “no one knows.”

“Then I really am sorry,” You set your own glass aside and lean forwards, “I’m sure you didn’t want to bring your real life as Yeosang and your online life as Ryu together, I just recognized your voice immediately that day in the cafe,”

“As Ryu?” He glances back up at you.

“That’s what I…” You try to parse through it so it doesn’t sound like a parasocial affair, “fromryu, you know? That’s just what I filled in for your name, I guess,”

“Ryusang,” He nods, “it’s the Hanja spelling of Yeosang,”

“Oh,” You soften.

“Why didn’t you mention you knew me before?” He asks, but despite his words nothing in his demeanor is upset, just curious.

You take another large, steadying gulp of wine and nod, “I didn’t really think the cafe was an appropriate place to tell you that I’ve gotten off to your voice before,”

He laughs sharply and looks down, “Okay, that’s fair,”

“Right,” You murmur.

“y/n,” He sounds hesitant and you look back up to him, “can I ask you something?”

“Anything,”

“Did you come out with me tonight because you wanted to go out on a date with the guy from the cafe, or because you wanted to have sex with Ryu?” The question is direct and cutting.

“With you,” You answer quickly, and now you know exactly why he’s putting this distance between you, “you, Yeosang.”

He’s quiet, turning your words over, you can practically see him thinking.

“Yeo,” You murmur, fighting the urge to reach out to him, “if all I wanted was that, I wouldn’t have told you. But I really like you, Yeosang, and I’d like to see more of you and see where this could go, but I completely understand if me knowing this part of you is too much. If you don’t want to go any further with me romantically or as a friend, this can just be a nice date we both had,”

He nods and then says, “I have one more question,”

You wait, your stomach in knots.

“Do you have a problem with what I do?” He asks.

“I mean,” You shake your head, “I was a subscriber, so no,”

“I don’t mean like that,” He clarifies his words, “I mean in terms of a romantic relationship. I like my work, both the cafe and the content, and if we start seeing each other I’m not going to suddenly stop making porn just like I wouldn’t close the cafe.”

“I’m not asking you to,” You shift over on the couch and reach towards him, resting a hand on his forearm.

“I’ve dated a few women,” He explains, slipping his hand into yours and twining your fingers together, “this was not something any of them were comfortable with,”

“Oh,” You nod, but he continues.

“A couple of them thought it might be fun,” He adds, “but when things got more serious they expected me to stop for them,”

“I’m sorry,” You tell him quietly, “I don’t expect anything like that,”

“You don’t now,” He points out, “and neither did they in the beginning.”

You can see the way this has fucked with his head a little, the way he keeps his shoulders stiff and turned away from you as he explains, and you suppose you might react the same way if you were in his shoes.

You chew the inside of your lip as you think about how best to say this to him, but finally you manage it, “Yeosang,” you get his attention, “what you do for work doesn’t change what we do on a date or in bed,”

He turns his head a little, the only indication you have that he’s really listening.

“I have no expectation that you’re some… sex god,” You smile a little, “though my guess is that you’re pretty good at dirty talk,”

A small smile appears on his lips.

“If I didn’t like what you do for work I’d go find another guy,” You continue, “and I’m sorry if the other women you dated weren’t comfortable with it, but I’m not so shy about it. I like what you do, and you’ve helped me plenty, and there’s nothing more flattering than knowing you liked me enough to even bring me upstairs,”

“Don’t sell yourself short there,” He looks up, shaking his head, “when you said yes to dinner I thought I’d be lucky if I got to so much as touch you,”

Your heart quickens in your chest, “You, what?”

He turns his body towards you properly now, “y/n,” he says, “I like you, I’ve liked you since you walked into the cafe soaking wet and exhausted, I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you out for weeks.”

“I think I’m dreaming,” You breathe, and he grins at your words. You clap a hand over your lips and groan, “Sorry, I didn't mean to say that outloud,”

“It’s honest,” He says, “I like that about you,”

“Well,” Your hands naturally separate as you lean back onto the couch, “then believe me when I tell you that I am fine with your work. All aspects of your work,”

His eyes flick over you, gauging how honest you’re being now, “All aspects?”

You nod again.

“y/n,” His voice softens, “what tier subscriber were you?”

It clicks in your brain that you haven’t really told him everything, all the things you know about him and his work. Little audio videos here and there might be forgivable to some women, but more might be too much.

“The highest,” You tell him, “when I say everything I mean it, the videos, the Snapchat, all of it.”

He seems to relax at that, “And if this does go somewhere,” he gestures between you both, “if we keep seeing each other. If it becomes more than a few dates,”

You nod.

“You’re alright knowing that even if we were dating and going to bed together every night, I spend my free time making people come on the internet for money,” He says it so plainly that you have to blink at him.

You turn his words over and then sigh, “There’s one thing,”

He leans back in his chair, putting a little more distance between you both, obviously braced for your words.

“I just have a question,” You ease him, “just something I should know, I think.”

He nods once, his shoulders tense again.

“Do you ever talk one on one with people?” You feel your cheeks heat, “I know you do, you have the discord, but I mean do you ever do what you do alone with someone?”

He softens, “No, no I don’t,”

“Okay,” You nod, the tense knot in your stomach relaxing, “okay, then,”

“Would that be a boundary for you?” He asks.

“I think so,” You tell him, “it’s different when you’re making a video to upload for anyone and talking to someone, at least to me,”

He nods, and then he moves, shifting from his position on the chair to your side on the couch. The nerves that were knotted deeply inside you start to unfurl, his proximity feeling like a peace offering, like an acceptance of your words.

“Subscribers aren’t lovers,” He says finally, “and some people blur that line with their content, but I don’t.”

“Then, Yeosang,” You take the opportunity to slide yourself sideways a little closer to him, “I am fine with all aspects of your work, more than fine.”

“Will you tell me if that ever changes?” He asks.

“Yes,” You make him this promise, “I like you too, all I want is to be honest with you,”

He nods, his fingers flexing on his thigh as he thinks. Finally, he swallows tightly, his skin flushing a little now that you’re almost pressed together on the couch, and he asks what he’s wanted to ask all night, “y/n,” he turns towards you, “can I kiss you?”

He’s stunning this close, enough to render you speechless, breathless. You manage a single word, “Please,”

He’s on you in a flash, and Yeosang’s lips are warm, soft and plush and as he presses into you and winds his arms around you. Your body relaxes into his instantly, the feeling of his warmth, the scent of him, rich coffee grounds and sugar infused into his skin from his work at the cafe.

His tongue probes your mouth, his breath hot as he sighs. Your body feels alight, hot and feverish and desperate from just a single kiss. You need him inside you yesterday.

When he breaks the kiss, you realize you’re half straddling him. Somewhere in the heat of the moment and the muddled fog you hitched a leg over his and his hands dragged you up against him so you’re chest to chest. When your mouths break apart, you’re still merely inches from each other and panting the same little breath of air.

“y/n,” His hands explore you slowly, moving over your skin like he’s trying to learn you, “normally I would try to keep the kink to a future date, but since you already know all of my deepest, darkest fantasies, maybe we can skip ahead?”

“Yes,” You laugh softly, “definitely,”

“But I am realizing something,” His hands find the curve of your ass, “I’m at a disadvantage here, you’ve seen my videos, but I don’t know anything about what you like.”

“You,” The word bubbles up and you flush red again.

“My voice, I’m sure you like that,” He drops it a little to emphasize the husky bedroom quality of it with a teasing smile on his face, “but what videos do you like? What were your favorites?”

He’s about to ruin you, there’s absolutely no question. Even if he was all talk you’re sure to be coming just from his words alone, but his hands, the way he touches you, there’s no doubt he has the skills to back up everything he’s ever said in the videos too.

“Now I’m a little embarrassed,” You admit, “an hour ago we were on a first date,”

“An hour ago I didn’t know the woman across the table had fucked herself to the thought of me,” He counters softly, “and we can slow down if you want but judging from the wet patch on my thigh I think you want to keep going,”

You jerk your hips immediately, angling to pull them away so you can stop embarrassing yourself all over this man after a single kiss, but his hands lock down hard over your ass and he holds your body firmly against him.

“No, no,” He adjusts his leg so that his thigh is pressed even more firmly against your cunt, “don’t be embarrassed with me,”

“Right,” You blush darker.

“I’ll tell you what I want,” He offers, “would that help?”

You nod quickly.

One of his hands shifts to lovingly stroke up and down your back as he speaks, “I want you to enjoy this more than anything. There is nothing that gets me off harder than making a partner absolutely fall apart for me, and knowing I did that for them, and I think you already know that from my content. That’s real, that’s me.”

You shiver a little and he leans up to kiss you, softer this time.

“I’d like this to be good for you,” He continues, “and honestly I already want to see you again, but in case it’s only one night for you I think we should make it count.”

The night went from nothing to everything so fast your head is spinning but you nod, surging up to kiss him with your hands pressed against his chest for balance. Your core drags along his hard thigh with your momentum forwards and you gasp a little into the kiss, your hips bucking softly on their own at the sudden pleasurable sensation. You feel something stiff and warm pressing into your belly and you feel a rush of sensation between your thighs.

“So,” He kisses you again, leaning away so he can talk to you, “tell me what videos you liked,”

“The um,” You clear your throat softly, “the guided ones,”

He smiles, “Those are your favorites?”

You nod.

“And the roleplay?” He asks.

“Good,” You nod, “everything you do is really good,”

“But the guided ones get you off, hmm?” He squeezes your hips.

You nod again, “You’re very good at what you do,”

“Guided,” He says, almost to himself, before he drags your hips up and back along his thigh, “so you like when I talk you through it?”

You rock your hips on your own this time, picking up on his cues that he wants you to grind on him, “Mm-hmm,”

“Tell me more about what you like,” He keeps one hand planted firmly on your backside, but the other starts to wonder, fingers teasing the skin of your collarbones before he cups your breast through your sweater.

“Y-you’re so comforting,” You manage as you slowly rut your body against his, “even when you’re edging me and telling me what to do, you’re just, I don’t know,”

“Is that right?” He teases softly, his fingers toying with the top button of your closed cardigan.

“Mm,” You sigh, pleasure truly starting to build inside you as you rock your clit lazily against him, “and you understand it takes time for women,”

The button opens.

“You take your time with the build up,” You sigh, finding a better position for your hands against his firm chest while you continue to rock, “and when you talk about what you wish you could do to me if you were there,”

Two more buttons part open and he hums softly, appreciatively, “You like knowing what I want?”

You nod, watching as he makes short work of your other buttons.

“Maybe I should just show you,” He slides the cardigan off your shoulders until it pools around your waist, caught on your elbows, “wouldn’t that be better than just listening?”

“Y-yes,” You sigh, your hips slowing so you can let him take the lead.

He shakes his head, pressing his hand against your ass again to keep you moving, “That’s it,”

You moan softly, fingers gripping his shirt, “Yeosang,”

He chuckles at your needy whine and brushes his fingers between your breasts, stroking up your chest, down and over the wire of your bra, and lower still over the soft flesh of your belly.

“There you go,” He smiles, “I know that feels good,”

You nod, “So good,”

“Jagiya,” His hands slide your bra straps down, letting the soft material of the mesh cups fall and reveal your breasts to his hungry eyes, “look how pretty you are for me,”

You’re close.

“Don’t stop,” He murmurs, shifting under you so that he can sit up further and press his lips to your chest, “I need you to come,”

“Yeo,” You whine, your hips sinking into a quick rolling rhythm that feels so right.

“I need to take my time with you,” He confesses, lips traveling from the center of your chest across the swell of your breasts, “but I don’t think I can,”

“I-I don’t want you to,” You moan, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to stay steady, “please,”

“I want to,” He groans, “but, fuck, y/n,”

“Yeo,” You shudder, pleasure snapping up and down your spine, “it’s not one night, it could have never been one night for me,”

He exhales a heavy breath against your skin, hands tightening pleasantly on your rutting hips.

You’re startlingly close to tipping over the edge, the bubble growing closer and closer to bursting, and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly to focus on the sensation of him, “I-I need,”

He grips you harder, “Tell me, baby,”

“I, I,” You stammer, body stumbling towards coming.

“Come on,” He says lowly, “tell me what you need, baby, I’m right here,”

A tight sound bubbles out of your mouth and you figure it out in a second, your hand winding into the back of his hair to direct his head, pushing his mouth until you feel his lips ghost over your pebbled nipple.

“Oh,” He groans, his tongue catching your nipple firmly and sending a shock down your back, “there we go, I’ve got you,”

His tongue flicks over your nipple again, closing his lips over the hardened bud to suck sharply in exactly the way you need to take you right over the edge.

“I’m,” You grip him harder, losing yourself entirely now as you grind against him for your release, “I’m so close,”

“Come,” He pants, latching back onto your breast to keep lavishing the same attention, his arms banding tightly around you to hold your shuddering body close.

Your finger tightens in his hair, he begs you once more to come, and your orgasm knocks into you sideways. You moan sharply, jerking against him as you fall apart, and you feel him start to move.

He presses fast kisses across your chest, his voice soothing, “Oh, there we go,” he sighs as he feels you trembling, “fuck, what a good girl showing me exactly what she needs,”

His words draw a groan from your lips, your head buzzing at his praise.

“Perfect,” He sighs against your chest, “you have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,”

You shiver, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” His fingers trace a circle around your nipple, and something in the way he’s touching you and the sound of his voice tells you everything. He’s about to tease you, edge you, make you come, and god willing he was about to fuck you. Yeosang flicks his thumb over your nipple and smiles, “Baby, I’m going to turn you over, if you want to slow down or stop at anytime you just tell me,”

“I think I’ll be,” You start to say, and then he maneuvers you quickly in his strong arms, gathering you close so he can turn you over on the couch, leaving you lying flat on your back against the cushions. You squeak and the way he pushes your legs together, quickly undoing the buttons on your trousers and pulling down the zip, and he glances up at the sound to check your eyes but finds nothing but your lazy post-orgasm smile.

As he kneels and strips your trousers off he groans, “God,”

“W-what’s wrong?” You blink, finding his eyes.

“Absolutely nothing,” He smooths his hands up and down your bare legs, “except I’m finding it very difficult not being inside you yet,”

“So come inside me,” You smile.

The corner of his mouth turns up at your words, “Already, baby? It’s only the first date,”

You process your words and roll your eyes, “You know what I meant,”

“I do,” He smiles wider now, “but you need to come again before I fuck you,”

“Not that I’m complaining about you touching me,” You gasp sharply as he hooks his thumbs under the sides of your thong and yanks it away, “but I’ve been daydreaming about your cock for months, so,”

He laughs sharply, tugging his own shirt up and off over his head as he does, “I’m flattered,”

“Shut up,” You press your thighs together and let your head flop back onto the cushions.

“Darling,” Yeosang says, kissing each of your thighs before he starts to slowly open your legs again, “how long has it been since you’ve been with someone?”

“Honestly?” You grimace, “A while,”

“And how long since you’ve had anything bigger than your fingers inside you?” He asks it so plainly, so calmly, while he widens your legs and starts to tip you open, another kiss to your inner thigh.

You shiver in his hands, “N-not that long,”

“Hmm,” He sounds pleased at that, “do you like using toys when you fuck yourself to my voice?”

“Fuck,” You gasp as his finger traces the softest line up and down your slit.

“Is that a yes?” He blows a cool stream of air across your throbbing clit and you jerk in his hands.

“Yes,” You answer quickly.

“What I wouldn’t give to watch that,” He says, kissing your inner thigh again before he continues, “but still, I’m probably bigger than your dildo, be patient with me,”

“Oh, fuck,” You melt as he presses one finger inside your slick channel.

“Relax,” He soothes you, “just let go for me,”

You don’t know how your life is this strange, how you went from listening to this man through your headphones while you touched yourself under the covers alone at home to his fingers sinking inside you. You’ll probably wake up from this dream with sticky thighs. There’s no way this is real.

Those are the thoughts that dizzy you until he pushes two fingers flush into your heat and you moan sharply, your hand gripping down on one of the couch throw pillows. He feels pretty real.

He groans, gently pumping his middle and ring finger just to get you used to the sensation, “Feel good?”

“So good,” You sigh.

“How badly do you need to come, darling?” He asks, continuing the slow and steady thrust of his fingers.

“So badly,” Your voice is whiny, needy, entirely informed by the feverish heat spreading through you.

“Pretty girl,” He hums, “with an even prettier pussy,”

“Oh, god,” You grip the pillows harder, and he’s barely doing anything to you but your legs are already starting to tremble.

“Mmm,” His fingers begin to pulse more firmly and you feel his fingers curl, finding the spongy crook of your g-spot with practiced ease, “and you need my cock inside, don’t you?”

“Ah, yes! Yes,” Pleasure blooms through your body.

“Soon,” He promises.

You moan again as he repositions, continuing the steady drumbeat of his fingers inside you as he reaches around with his opposite hand to separate your lower lips, the pad of his middle finger now alternating between maddening flicks and taps to your clit.

“Ah! Yeo,” Your hips rock, “just like that,”

“Good girl,” He murmurs, “telling me what you like,”

A tight sensation fills your lower belly, a blossoming heat that spreads from your core up through your body in warm waves, “F-faster,”

“Mm,” His thrusting picks up speed instantly, the angle slightly adjusting as he does, “that’s it,”

The angle chance has his curled fingers pumping against your g-spot hard and suddenly the sensation drops low, almost painfully tight and sharp like you’re on the precipice of something.

It occurs to you all at once what he’s trying to do, the way he’s trying to make your body sing, and despite the rolling waves of pleasure and how close you are to your second release, you don’t necessarily want the first time you squirt to be on Yeosang’s floor.

“B-baby,” You whine, the pet name slipping off your tongue, “I’m gonna, I think, oh fuck,”

“Fuck yes,” His fingers flatten down over your clit and he rubs fast, slickly rolling over your firm bud, “let go,”

“I can’t,” You shake your head, sweat breaking out across your brow, “I’ve n-never, oh, fuck, Yeosang!”

“Come,” He commands softly, “that’s it, you come, right here, baby,”

He’s not stopping, and with the way he’s working you there’s no way you could even if you tried. In a snap your body releases hard, a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt pulsing through your slick cunt and your legs jerk, hips snapping up as clear fluid pulses out of you. The sound that leaves your lips is wanton, broken and needy, and your ears are very clearly ringing.

“Oh, fuck,” Yeosang hums, almost to himself, rubbing fast across your soaked slit to help coax every bit of slick from your center, “oh, baby, look at you,”

Your legs try to snap shut at the suddenly sharp overstimulation, but all he does is take that as his cue to stop directly stimulating you and instead drop the warm flat of his tongue over every inch of your glistening pussy. You gasp sharply at the feeling, rolling your head forwards so that you can look down between your legs, and you moan softly at the sight.

He’s buried between your thighs, lazily licking stripes up your inner thighs and over your cunt, but slowly enough that his aim isn’t to draw you into another orgasm, he just wants to taste you. To feel you on his tongue and ease you through your little aftershocks.

“God,” You breathe after a moment, “oh, my god,”

He chuckles, kissing the top of your mound, “Was that your first time?”

You nod, still trying to catch your breath.

He groans a little, palming his hard cock through his trousers to readjust, “That’s an ego boost, I’m not going to lie,”

You manage a laugh despite your dizzy, orgasm fogged brain, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” He strokes your thigh, “if you’re not careful I might get addicted to the way you taste when you come,”

A shudder runs through you, “You can’t just say things like that,”

“It’s not a lie,” He says, “I’d spend a whole night between these thighs if you’ll let me,”

“Mm,” You sigh, reaching down for him and brushing your fingers through his long, dark hair.

“Now?” He cocks his head slightly to the side, “If you want my mouth, you just have to ask,”

You shake your head, slowly starting to push yourself into a sitting position and slide your hips away from him, “Not tonight,”

“What more can I give you tonight?” He murmurs, running his hands up and down your bare thighs, “Anything you want,”

You cup his face, drawing him close to lock your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into his nose, “Take me to bed, please, Yeosang,”

“Let’s go,” He agrees, extricating himself from your arms so he can stand and offer you a hand up.

You take it, but as you do you realize the wet puddle on the floor in front of the couch and you blush dark red, covering your mouth with your hand, “I’m so sorry,”

“For what?” He blinks at you, and then follows your nervous eyes.

“I didn’t realize,” You start to say but he interrupts you with a hard kiss.

“Relax,” He says, “if we’re lucky you’ll make a mess of my room too,”

“I don’t know how I did it,”

He laughs again, “I do,” he smiles, “now come on, I need to see you in my bed before I combust,”

He tugs your hand, leading you down the hall until you’re in a large master bedroom. Your eyes flick over the details - industrial, warm wood, dark green sheets, soft ambient lighting. You’re about to comment on it, but he flips you back around to face him and captures your mouth in another hungry kiss.

“God,” He backs you up to the edge of the bed, dropping you down and falling over you, “tell me I can have you,”

“You have me,” You pant against his mouth, all thoughts of his lovely interior decor gone in an instant when you feel the hard shaft of his cock nestled between your thighs.

“I swear next time we’ll go slow,” He grinds his hips down, rolling his length up and down your slit, only the thin fabric of his trousers separating you.

“Please,” You buck against him, “I need you right now,”

“Fuck,” His hands are hot, searching, “is that right, darling?”

“Inside me,” Your hands scramble to find his waistband, “please,”

He nods, lips still pressed against yours, and then he leans back just enough to undo his trousers and start to push down his pants and boxer briefs.

Your mouth runs dry immediately. He wasn’t wrong about his size. You have fairly large dildos at home, thick and long and perfect for reaching all the spots you need it to, but Yeosang was bigger, thicker and longer than anything you’ve ever had inside you.

“Condom?” He manages as he shucks off his pants.

You blink, tearing your eyes away from his perfect, aching cock and nod, “We probably should?”

“Right,” He doesn’t push you to make a different choice, he simply searches his nightstand for a moment and produces a foil packet.

He strokes his cock twice while he tears the packet open with his teeth, before watching you beneath him as he rolls the condom smoothly down his length, adjusting it so that it fits perfectly.

You’re trembling with anticipation, you can feel it and so can he.

“y/n,” He murmurs, leaning over you and pressing a hand beneath your back to finally unclip your bra, “I want you to do something for me,”

You nod, sliding the cardigan and bra off your body and pushing them over the edge of the bed.

He grabs a firm looking pillow and folds it in half, “Lift your hips for me,”

You lift up and he slides the pillow right under your backside to leave you propped up and open for him.

“If it doesn’t feel good,” He murmurs as he maneuvers you into the position he wants, “or if I’m hurting you at all, just tell me,”

You nod.

“And I want you to tell me when you’re about to come,” He instructs, “I need to know,”

You nod again, your stomach flipping with desire.

He licks his lips, folding your legs open a little wider and slotting himself over you. He settles with one hand on your raised hip, the other braced on the bed by your head, his knees on the edge of the mattress between your splayed thighs.

His cock finally, finally, nudges at your entrance and you grip down on the sheets below you.

“Mm,” He groans, sinking just an inch or two into your tight heat, “you’re even tighter than I thought,”

He pushes in a little more and you moan at the stretch, “Oh, god,”

“Do I feel that good, babygirl?” He teases, pushing in a little more.

“So good,” You lift your head to watch the way his thick length splits you open.

“I am bigger than your toys, aren’t I?” He rolls his hips this time, rocking himself deeper with every little thrust.

“Y-yes,” You nod, your head dropping back to the mattress.

“Can you take me, baby?” He murmurs low.

“Fuck yes,” Your hips buck up again on their own as he opens you up, nearly fully sheathed inside you.

“Just a little more,” He says, his hand tightening on your hip, “there we go, fuck, that’s it, you’re taking me so beautifully, baby,”

Tears rush to your eyes, not from any kind of discomfort, but just from the overwhelming sensation of him. You’ve never been so full, never been so deliciously stretched and had these parts of you touched, and it rushes a blush to your chest and emotion through your veins.

His fingers brush along your jaw, bringing your eyes to his, “Good tears, or should we stop?”

“If you stop I’ll actually cry,” You laugh, blinking away the hazy sheen in your eyes, “you feel so fucking good,”

“Oh,” He sighs, thrusting gently in and out of you, “what a good, good girl, you are,”

“Jesus,” You shiver beneath him.

“Yeah?” He starts to move now, just a bit more, rocking his cock at a steady pace in and out of your wet core, “You like when I tell you how good you are for me?”

“Yes,” You moan, a shock of hot pleasure spiking up from your core, “please,”

“Such a good girl letting me fuck her perfect pussy on the first date,” His voice has dropped low again, husky and direct, and you babble out a sound of pleasure as he talks, “so warm and wet,”

“Fuck, fuck,” Your eyes roll.

He collapses over you a little more, his desperate lips searching for yours and the angle deepens, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside you with every downward thrust of his hips.

You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his warm skin, “Baby,” you pant, “your cock, oh god,”

He hums against your cheek, head falling slack as his lips find your throat, sucking your pulse points and no doubt searing his mark into your tender skin. He pumps his hips harder and you moan under him, cursing again and scrambling to hold him closer.

“Such a dirty mouth,” He nips at your neck, “are you always like this, or is my cock that special?”

All you can manage is a taught moan in response, his cockhead now continuously connecting with your sweet spot over and over and rendering you unable to string a coherent thought together.

He groans at the way your cunt flutters and spasms and he kisses you hard, fingers tangling in your hair, “One of these days I’ll feel you for real,” he pants, “nothing between my cock and your sweet cunt,”

Your back arches, your mind spinning at the thought, “Yeo,” you moan.

“Fuck,” He chokes, “the way you’re squeezing me,”

You make a tight sound, something between a pleasured whine and a sob, and his hips stutter and stop, pressing his cock in as deep as possible as he grips down on whatever parts of you he can, breathing hot and heavy against your skin.

You can’t really move well in this position, but your hips rock in tiny back and forth motions to try and keep the sensation rolling through you. He’s panting into your shoulder, clearly trying to keep himself from coming too soon, and your mind commits to an idea before you have a second to double check yourself.

“Yeo,” You tap his arm, “baby I need to move,”

He pushes off you, his cock sliding out of your soaked core and you leg your legs straighten out, “What’s wrong,”

The words are barely off his tongue before you’re sitting up, grabbing his hand and drawing him back to the bed, pushing him onto his back with a guiding hand to his shoulder. He lets you lead, watching you as you put him where you want him this time, and he smiles, eyes flicking over you appreciatively.

“I need you,” Is all the explanation you can give, and maybe with a stranger this is foolish, borderline stupid, but you know him. He’s not a stranger really, not to you.

With a feverish pulse of need inside you, you shift to straddle his hips, and with quick, sure hands you roll the condom up from the base of his cock and toss it to the side.

“y/n,” He manages, but you’re lifting yourself over him now and his hands fly up to brace your waist, “are you sure?”

“So sure,” You connect his cockhead with your slick hole and drop your hips down fast, taking the whole hard length of him inside you in one smooth motion.

It’s his turn to moan, his head dropping back at the sensation of your wet walls and he grips at you, his hips stuttering beneath you.

“God,” He bucks up into you, “you’re perfect,”

“So are you,” You rock against him, finding the perfect place for your hands on his chest, “you’re so deep,”

He moans again, and when you start to bounce up and down he curses tightly.

“J-just don’t come inside me,” You keep bouncing, a steady fluid motion in your hips that you can tell is driving him crazy, but you have to keep your head at least a little.

“F-fuck,” He groans, his jaw tightening as his eyes flick down to the place your bodies are joined together, “you’re making that kind of difficult,”

“I just wanted to feel you,” Your shaking arms buckle a little and you find yourself flush against his chest while you work his cock.

“Me too,” His hands find your ass again and he starts to direct the pace, “God, I could fuck you forever,”

A moan drops from your mouth, your hands tightening on his chest.

“Don’t stop,” He urges you, and you realize your hips slowed at his words, “you feel so good riding me like that,”

Your thighs are burning already, but you hardly care, every fast shift up and down leaves you closer and closer, “Love you cock,”

“Mm, yeah? Say that again,”

“I,” You curse as a spike of pleasure rolls through you, “fuck, I love your cock,”

“Good girl,” He grips you tight, his hips jutting up to meet you now.

Your pace falters slightly, “Please, please,”

“I’ve got you,” He adjusts just enough to hold you steady as he fucks up into your tight heat, “I’ve got you,”

You moan, dropping your head into his chest and shuddering against him, “Baby, oh fuck,”

“A-are you close, jagi?” He pants, fingers digging into your hips so hard you know you’ll have bruises.

“Don’t stop,” You beg, “please, god, don’t stop,”

He groans, keeping the pace of his thrusts and using his hands on your ass to maneuver you to meet his hips.

“Shit,” You shudder in his arms, your orgasm fast approaching, “I’m coming,”

“Come here,” He shifts you fast, rolling you up and off him and manhandling you up to your feet.

You make a surprised noise at the lack of him inside you when you were getting so close, but you don’t have to worry for very long. Before you can open your mouth he has you standing, facing away from him, and bent over ninety degrees to brace your hands on the bed.

He thrusts back inside you sharply, slamming his hips into yours and leaving you moaning and curling in on yourself, your legs starting to tremble.

“Come on my cock, pretty girl,” He palms your ass before planting his hands on your hips and using the leverage to pull you back into each of his thrusts, “you’re so close,”

Your eyes slam shut, fisting the sheets as you hang on, every sharp push of his cock driving deeper and deeper. You’re going to have bruises, you’re going to be sore, but none of it matters when he’s making you feel this good.

You sob out a moan, collapsing forward into the bedding but he holds you up, “I can’t,”

“Yes, you can,” He pants, his sweat slick skin connecting again and again with yours.

“Fuck,” You groan, “I’m almost, I’m so,”

“Touch your yourself,” He directs, interrupting your pleasured ramblings, “rub your clit for me, baby,”

You slide a hand between your legs, locating your slick bud with ease and rolling your fingers over it quickly.

“Fuck, there you are,” He groans, “that’s right, baby, come on my cock,”

The same new sensation drops in your gut, your legs start to shake and you’re fairly sure that without his sure hands you’d be crumbling.

“That’s it,” He coaxes you up, never once slowing the sharp snaps of his hips, “there you go, that’s my good girl,”

Something unravels in your gut and you come with a shout, folding in on yourself as your legs quake and your mind whites out. Yeosang wraps his arms around you, curling over your back to keep you steady, and his cock slips free so he can stimulate you through your orgasm with his fingers, more liquid pulsing out of you as he fucks you over the edge.

You’re a quivering mess, and he lets you drop into the sheets, pushing you onto your back so he can stand over you, one hand fisting his slick cock.

“I’m coming,” He groans, “w-where?”

Your hands cup your breasts automatically, and you arch up to offer yourself to him, “On me, baby, come all over me,”

Yeosang groans sharply, his hips thrusting into his tight grip as ropes of silvery white cum paint your skin, covering your belly and breasts and dripping down your chest. He’s panting, his skin flushed pink and sweat covering every inch of his toned chest.

It takes you both a moment to recover, both trembling in the same position as you try to regain your breath, but after a few moments he smiles a hazy, satisfied smile and finds your eyes, “You’re so beautiful,”

Suddenly you feel a bit shy, even despite everything you’ve just done together.

“So beautiful,” He sighs again, pushing his hair back out of his face, and then he drops to his knees.

He hushes your soft protests and this time he tastes you slowly, but with intention. After such rough, intense sex, he follows it with the softest, slowest orgasm you’ve ever had. With slow sucks and gentle licks he brings you through a languid rolling wave that softens your limbs and leaves you sleepy and pliant in the sheets.

You drift, falling into sleep too easily for a first date in a sort of stranger’s apartment.

You wake a little later to a warm sensation on your skin, and you blink your eyes open to see Yeosang sitting next you, freshly showered and wearing black sweatpants and a familiar blank tank top. He draws the wet washcloth over your skin and then stops and smiles when he sees your eyes open.

“Hey,” He murmurs.

“Hi,” You reply softly, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,”

He shakes his head, “Don’t be sorry,”

“I think you scrambled my brain a little,” You laugh, covering your face with your hands.

“Hopefully in a good way,” He nudges you.

“Beyond good,” You look up at him, “are you kidding?”

He smiles a little wider, “Good,” he says, “I drew you a bath,”

“Oh,” Your eyebrows raise.

“I thought you might be sore,” He explains, “I know I was a little rough, I hope you’re not feeling it too much,”

You shake your head, “Just a little, but in a good way,”

He nods, “Does the bath sound nice, or would you prefer a shower?”

“Bath is perfect,” You can see that he’s suddenly a little nervous, back to the same man from your date, no trace of Ryu’s husky tones.

“Here,” He offers you his hands to help you up, and guides you towards the connected bathroom suite. It’s large, crisp and clean, and in the corner stands a large spa-like tub filled high with warm water.

“Thank you,” You murmur as he helps you slip into the cocoon of water, the subtle scent of lavender wafting up from the steam.

“Mhm,” He nods, pulling a bamboo stool from the side of the sink and setting it down so he can sit at the edge of the tub and be at eye level with you.

“This is nice,” You murmur, still finding yourself a little shy in the post-orgasm clarity of it all.

He’s quiet for a moment, his fingertips dragging over the surface of the water and then he bites his lip.

Your stomach sinks for a moment, nerves coming back tenfold at the idea that maybe he’d prefer you to go after this, maybe this is all you’d ever have. Maybe he reconsidered what you know about his online persona and maybe he wasn’t willing to take the leap.

“y/n,” He sighs, “this might be forward,”

You look up from the rippling water.

“But what do you think about staying the night? We could order some dessert, maybe keep getting to know each other a little?” He asks.

You can’t fight the smile that blooms over your face, “I thought you might have changed your mind,”

“No,” He reaches into the water to find your hand, twining your fingers together, “not at all.”

“Yeah?” You squeeze his hand.

“I’d be crazy to let this be a one-time thing,” He lifts your hand from the bath and presses a kiss to the back, “I hope you feel the same.”

“I really do,” You twist to the side, leaning over to find his mouth and lock your lips together.

Yeosang cups your cheek, deepening the kiss tenderly, his tongue sweeping against yours, “What are you doing tomorrow night, then?”

“Tomorrow?” You lean back a little.

“Let me take you out again,” He kisses you again, softly this time, “I’m probably supposed to wait a few days, Wooyoung would tell me I seem too eager, but,”

“Who cares about that?” You grin, leaning out of the bath far enough to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, “It’s a date,”

“And Sunday?” His hands slide down your back.

You nuzzle his nose with yours, “I have a date,”

“Oh,” He says, deflating instantly.

“You might know him,” You tease, “he owns this lovely little cafe,”

He laughs, his forehead leaning on yours, “You’re mean,”

“You like me,” You peck his lips.

“I do,” He nods, “I really, really do,”

#honeyhotteoks updates #honeyhotteoks fics #yeosang x reader #kang yeosang #yeosang #ateez #yeosang ff #yeosang fic #yeosang smut

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rootedinrevisions · 1 month ago

Text

Through the Wreckage

SUMMARY: When a devastating tornado tears through town, Tyler Owens faces his worst nightmare: the woman he loves is missing. Tyler is thrust into a desperate search through the wreckage to find her. As the storm's aftermath unfolds, it forces him to confront his fears, regrets, and hopes for the future.

A/N: So got inspired for this after watching Twisters earlier today. Just the anguish that we saw from Tyler when he realized Kate was driving into the tornado made me wonder what would happen if the person he loved was missing or in danger. Hence where we ended up here.

WARNINGS: Destruction (ie: a tornado hit so damaged buildings, smoke, dust, sparks, etc.), Blood, Minor Injuries.

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The tires screeched as Tyler pulled up to the scene, gravel crunching beneath his truck. He barely shifted into park before throwing the door open and jumping out. His boots hit the ground with a thud, and the first thing his eyes locked on was the building—partially collapsed, its front wall completely gone. The inside was exposed like a broken shell, with beams hanging at jagged angles and smoke or dust curling into the air from where drywall and bricks had crumbled. His heart sank like a stone in his chest. This wasn’t good.

Behind him, Boone’s truck came to a stop, followed by Dani, Dexter, and Lily piling out of their vehicles. Tyler barely registered the sound of their voices calling his name as they ran toward him. His world had narrowed to the destruction in front of him, and one thought pounded in his mind: She’s in there.

Pulling his phone from his pocket with shaking hands, Tyler checked the last location pinged from your phone. His stomach twisted. It matched this address. He swallowed hard, the weight of dread pressing down on him as his eyes scanned the crowd of people that had been pulled from the building and huddled together on the other side of the street. His pulse quickened as he searched for you, desperate for even a glimpse of your face. But you weren’t there.

“Tyler, man, slow down,” Boone said, gripping his shoulder as he came up beside him. “Let’s figure out what’s going on—”

“She’s not out here,” Tyler cut him off, his voice tight and raw. “She’s not with them.” He gestured toward the crowd of people being tended to by paramedics.

His chest heaved as the realization hit him like a freight train: You were still inside.

Without another word, he turned and made a beeline toward the first responders standing near the edge of the debris. His strides were long and determined, his jaw set in grim determination as he ignored Boone’s calls to slow down.

The closer he got, the more chaos surrounded him. The air smelled of smoke and damp concrete, and the sound of crackling debris mixed with shouts from firefighters. But none of it mattered.

“Did everyone get out?” Tyler shouted, his voice hoarse as he reached the nearest firefighter. “Did you see a woman—about this tall, light hair?” He motioned frantically, his green eyes darting around.

He already knew the answer from their hesitant expressions, but he refused to accept it.

“Sir,” one of them started, stepping forward, “it’s not safe—we weren’t able to get to everyone.”

“Where. Is. She?” Tyler growled, his frustration boiling over. His voice cracked, raw with fear and desperation. “Her phone’s still pinging from here! I need to know if she made it out!”

Another firefighter shook his head grimly. “We’re still doing sweeps, but the building’s unstable. Most of the front wall came down in the collapse. We can’t risk—”

“Bullshit!” Tyler snapped, cutting him off as he took a step toward the wreckage.

Boone and Dexter were on him in an instant, grabbing his arms to hold him back.

“Tyler, don’t,” Boone urged, his voice low and firm. “You can’t go in there, man. It’s not safe. They’ll handle it.”

“She’s in there!” Tyler shouted, wrenching free from their grip. His voice cracked as he pointed toward the ruined building. “I know she is, Boone! I’m not waiting around while they do their sweeps!” His voice was shaking now, and for a moment, the raw emotion broke through his resolve. His chest heaved, his shoulders trembling as he ran a hand over his face, trying to block out the fear clawing at his mind.

The building groaned, a deep, unsettling sound that warned of further collapse. Tyler’s eyes darted toward it, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms.

If you were inside, he wasn’t about to stand by and let the clock run out.

“I’m going in,” he muttered under his breath, and before anyone could stop him, he broke into a sprint toward the wreckage.

“Sir! Stop! You can’t go in there!” a firefighter yelled, his voice sharp with authority.

Another called out, “It’s too dangerous! The structure’s not stable!”

But Tyler didn’t stop. He didn’t even slow down. The sound of boots pounding behind him told him Boone or Dexter was probably trying to catch him, but he didn’t care. All he could see was the shattered entrance ahead, the gaping maw of destruction that had swallowed you whole.

As he crossed the threshold, the air inside hit him like a wall—thick with dust and smoke, making it hard to breathe. He pulled his shirt up over his nose and mouth, squinting to see through the haze. The floor was littered with debris—chunks of drywall, splintered wood, and jagged shards of glass. Wires hung loose from the ceiling, some sparking as they dangled.

The creak of shifting metal echoed through the space, and Tyler froze for a moment, his eyes darting upward. A beam groaned overhead, threatening to give way. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to move, stepping carefully over a fallen section of wall.

“Darlin’,” he shouted, his voice hoarse and strained. “Where are you?”

His heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the wreckage, his eyes darting from one pile of debris to the next. The oppressive silence was broken only by the occasional crackle of sparks or the distant shouts of first responders outside.

“Come on, darlin’. Give me something,” he muttered under his breath, his voice trembling. He tried to focus, to ignore the dread clawing at the edges of his mind.

Tyler’s boot crunched on something, and he looked down to see a broken picture frame, the glass shattered across the floor. Around it were scattered papers, children’s drawings, and a few books covered in dust. He swallowed hard, the small remnants of normal life a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding him.

Pushing forward, he weaved through the destruction, stepping over overturned chairs and avoiding the sharp edges of broken furniture. The air grew hotter the deeper he went, the faint smell of something burning making his stomach churn.

And then he saw it.

A shoe.

Tyler’s breath caught in his throat as he recognized it—your shoe, half-buried beneath a pile of rubble. He stumbled forward, dropping to his knees as his shaking hands reached for it.

“Sweetheart?” he called, his voice breaking. He tossed aside chunks of drywall and splintered wood, the sharp edges cutting into his palms. Blood smeared across the debris as he worked, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was getting to you.

Finally, he uncovered your leg, and his heart seized. You were pinned beneath the debris, your body motionless. Dust and grime streaked your face, and your hair was tangled with bits of plaster.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face. His fingers were gentle, but his hands shook uncontrollably.

Leaning closer, he pressed his fingers to the side of your neck, searching desperately for a pulse. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. And then he felt it—a faint, fragile beat beneath his fingertips.

Relief flooded him, and a choked sob escaped his lips.

“Thank God,” he breathed. “I’ve got you, darlin’. You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

At the sound of his voice, you stirred faintly, your head shifting against the debris that cradled it. The faintest groan escaped your lips, so quiet he almost missed it. Tyler froze, his heart skipping a beat as his eyes shot to your face.

“Darlin’?” He said, his voice trembling with equal parts hope and fear. He cupped your face with one dirt-streaked hand, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Hey, hey, it’s me. Can you hear me, sweetheart?”

Your brow furrowed slightly, and your lips moved, though no sound came out at first. He leaned closer, his ear inches from your face.

“Ty...” The broken syllable fell from your lips like a lifeline, and his chest ached at the sound of it.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Your eyes fluttered weakly, just barely cracking open, but it was enough. Enough to send relief crashing over him in a wave so powerful it left him dizzy.

“Oh, thank God,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to grip yours. He squeezed it gently, willing his strength into you. “Stay with me. Keep those eyes on me, okay? You’re gonna be fine. I promise.”

You tried to say something else, your voice a faint whisper he couldn’t quite make out. He shook his head, tears pricking his eyes as he crouched lower to meet your gaze.

“Don’t try to talk,” he urged softly. “Just save your strength, darlin’. I’m getting you out of here. Just stay with me, okay? That’s all I need you to do. Stay with me.”

The faintest flicker of a nod came from you, but it was enough to shatter the fragile composure he’d been clinging to. His free hand pressed to his mouth as he choked back a sob, his chest heaving with the weight of his fear and relief.

The building groaned again, a deep, ominous sound that sent a shiver down his spine. He knew he didn’t have much time. He slid his arms beneath you, cradling you against his chest as he stood.

With you in his arms, Tyler turned toward the exit, his focus unwavering despite the chaos around him. All that mattered was getting you out of here alive.

Tyler adjusted his grip on you, holding you closer as he stepped carefully over the uneven ground. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

The air inside the building was suffocating. Smoke and dust hung thick like a heavy fog, clawing at his lungs with every breath. His throat burned, and each inhale felt like dragging sandpaper across raw skin. He coughed, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before forcing them open again. He couldn’t lose focus—not now.

Sparks rained down from a severed electrical wire overhead, the sharp sting biting into the exposed skin of his arms. He flinched, gritting his teeth as the acrid smell of singed fabric filled the air.

“Stay with me, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice rough and desperate as he looked down at you. “We’re almost out of here.”

Your body shifted slightly in his arms, and a soft, raspy cough escaped your lips. Tyler’s heart jumped at the sound. Panic surged through him, as he saw how shallow your breathing was.

“You still with me?” He called, his voice cracking. “Hey, can you hear me? Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You coughed again, your eyelids fluttering briefly but not opening. A weak, almost inaudible groan escaped you.

“That’s it,” Tyler said, his tone urgent but soft like he was coaxing you back to him. “You’re doing good. Just keep breathing for me, okay? We’re getting out of here.”

He stumbled slightly as the ground beneath him shifted—a section of flooring sagging under the weight of the debris. Tyler’s knees buckled for a moment, and he tightened his grip on you, his heart racing.

“Dammit,” he muttered, steadying himself before pressing forward.

The building groaned around him, the sound of metal twisting and concrete cracking growing louder. He could feel time running out.

Another section of ceiling collapsed behind him, sending a fresh plume of dust into the air. Tyler ducked instinctively, shielding you as debris rained down. A sharp edge grazed the back of his neck, and he winced, but he didn’t stop moving.

The exit was just ahead—a faint sliver of light visible through the haze. Tyler pushed toward it, his legs trembling with exertion. His vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges as the lack of clean air began to take its toll.

His steps faltered, and he coughed violently, nearly doubling over. For a moment, he thought his legs might give out, but then he felt a small, trembling hand against his chest. Your hand gripped weakly at his shirt, your head lolling slightly against his shoulder.

“T-Tyler...” you rasped, your voice barely audible.

His breath hitched, and he forced himself to keep moving.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’ve got you, darlin’. Just hang on.”

The exit grew closer, but the smoke thickened, clawing at his throat and lungs. Tyler stumbled again, his knees hitting the floor as his body screamed for oxygen.

“No,” he growled, shaking his head as he clutched you tighter. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself back to his feet, ignoring the way his legs trembled beneath him.

The light from the exit grew brighter, and he could hear the distant shouts of first responders outside. They sounded muffled like he was underwater, but it gave him just enough hope to keep going.

Sparks rained down again, burning his exposed arms and neck, but Tyler turned his body to shield you, hunching over as he pushed through the final stretch. His back felt like it was on fire, the fabric of his shirt sticking to blistering skin, but he didn’t slow down.

Finally, he broke through the haze, stumbling out onto the pavement. The fresh air hit him like a punch to the chest, and he gasped, his knees giving out as he sank to the ground.

“Help! Somebody—” he coughed violently, his voice raw and barely audible. “Somebody help her!”

Paramedics rushed toward him, but Tyler’s focus was on you. Your face was pale, streaked with dust and sweat, but your chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. He reached up to brush a trembling hand against your cheek, his fingers stained with soot and blood.

“Stay with me, sweetheart. You’re safe now.” He whispered, his voice cracking as tears welled in his eyes.

Tyler cradled you in his arms, his knees rooted to the pavement as the chaos of the world around him blurred into background noise. His only focus was you.

Your head lolled weakly against his chest, and your breaths were growing more shallow and uneven by the minute. A fresh wave of panic crashed over him as your eyelids fluttered, threatening to close.

“Hey,” he called softly, his voice trembling. “No, no, darlin’, stay with me. Look at me.”

Your eyes opened slightly, your gaze unfocused as you struggled to lift your head.

“I… can’t,” you murmured, the words barely audible.

“Yes, you can,” he said, his tone firm but full of emotion. “You’re not quittin’ on me now, you hear me?”

You coughed softly, your body trembling in his arms. Tyler adjusted his grip, pulling you closer as if he could shield you from the pain and the fear.

“We have plans, remember?” His voice cracked as he spoke, tears welling in his eyes. “Dinner tonight, just you and me. You told me you wanted to get dressed up, and said I needed to wear that tie you like. I’m not lettin’ you out of that, sweetheart. You still owe me a dance.”

A weak smile tugged at the corners of your lips, but it quickly faded as your eyelids grew heavier.

“And the church,” he continued, desperation lacing his words. “The little church your parents got married in. We’ll get married there, just like you’ve always wanted. You can wear that lace dress you talked about, the one you saw at the boutique last spring.”

You made a small sound, something between a laugh and a sob, and your fingers twitched weakly against his chest.

“And kids,” Tyler added, his voice breaking completely now. “Two–hell, however many you want. We’ll give ‘em the best damn life, I promise you that. Just… just stay with me, darlin’. Please.”

Your eyes fluttered open again, glassy but fixed on him.

“Three or four?” you rasped, a faint hint of amusement in your tone.

Tyler let out a shaky laugh, relief washing over him like a flood. He cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing away a smudge of dirt from your cheek.

“Yeah, three or four is perfect, darlin’,,” he said, his forehead pressing against yours as his tears mingled with the soot on his face. “Whatever you want, sweetheart. Just tell me the names you’ve got picked out, and I’ll make it happen.”

You gave a weak, tired smile, and he could feel the slight rise and fall of your chest against his. But your body still felt too limp, too fragile in his arms.

“Don’t you dare close those eyes again,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “Stay with me, sweetheart. Stay with me.”

Your gaze flickered once more, but before he could plead again, the paramedics swarmed around you.

“Sir, we need to take her now,” one of them said urgently, but Tyler’s arms tightened instinctively around you.

“I’m not leavin’ her,” he said fiercely, his eyes wild as he looked up at them.

“We need space to help her,” the paramedic insisted, their tone gentle but firm.

Tyler hesitated, his heart warring with his head as he realized he had no choice. He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“You hang on, you hear me?” he whispered, his voice shaking.

Reluctantly, he let them take you from his arms, his hands trembling as he watched them load you onto the stretcher. His heart clenched painfully as he saw your pale, dust-streaked face disappear behind the blur of paramedics working to save you.

* * * *

The waiting room of the hospital felt like a void. Time moved differently here, stretching out each second into an eternity. Tyler sat hunched over in a plastic chair, his forearms resting on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together. Boone, Dani, Dexter, and Lily sat nearby, their voices low and subdued as they tried to offer support. But Tyler didn’t hear them. His mind was stuck in the chaos of the collapsed building, the sound of your ragged breaths, the weight of your fragile body in his arms.

He stared at the double doors down the hallway, willing someone to come through them with news. Good news. Any news. His burned skin throbbed beneath the bandages the ER nurses had wrapped around him, but he didn’t care. The only pain that mattered was the fear clawing at his chest. The fear of losing you.

“T,” Boone said quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder. “She’s strong. She’s gonna pull through.”

Tyler nodded absently, his throat too tight to respond. He wanted to believe Boone, but the image of you lying so still, your face pale and streaked with dust, was seared into his mind.

The doors finally swung open, and a doctor stepped into the waiting room. Tyler shot to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Tyler Owens?” the doctor asked, glancing around the room.

“That’s me,” he said, his voice hoarse.

The doctor smiled softly, and Tyler’s knees nearly buckled with relief.

“She’s stable,” the doctor said. “She inhaled a lot of smoke, and there’s some bruising from the debris, but no major injuries. She’s going to be okay.”

Tyler exhaled a shaky breath, his hands dragging down his face as the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders.

“Can I see her?” Tyler asked, his voice cracking.

“Of course,” the doctor replied. “She’s awake, but she’s still weak. Try to keep it short for now.”

Tyler nodded, barely hearing the last part as he followed the doctor down the hallway. His boots echoed on the tile floor, the sound somehow both grounding and surreal.

When he stepped into your room, his chest tightened at the sight of you. You were propped up in the hospital bed, an oxygen mask resting lightly over your nose and mouth. The faint beeping of the monitors was a comforting reminder that you were still here, still breathing.

Your eyes fluttered open when you heard him, and despite the exhaustion etched into your face, you managed a small smile.

“Hey, cowboy,” you whispered, your voice muffled by the mask.

Tyler’s lips curved into a smile, and he pulled a chair up to your bedside, sitting down with a sigh of relief. He reached for your hand, his fingers curling gently around yours.

“You scared the hell outta me,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Don’t ever do that again, you hear me?”

“I’ll try,” you teased weakly, your fingers giving his hand the faintest squeeze.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Tyler’s thumb brushed over your knuckles, his eyes drinking in the sight of you as if to convince himself you were really okay.

“I meant what I said out there,” he finally murmured, his gaze locking with yours.

You frowned slightly in confusion. “What part?”

“All of it,” he said. “The church, the kids, everything. I want it all with you, darlin’. I want to marry you, and I’ll wear whatever you tell me to.”

You laughed softly, the sound raspy but real, and Tyler’s heart swelled.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you said, your smile softening as tears welled in your eyes. “I want it all too, Tyler. I always have.”

Tyler leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Then let’s start with dinner,” he said. “Soon as you’re out of here, I’m takin’ you to the nicest place in town. No storms, no distractions, just you and me.”

Your fingers tightened around his as you nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks. “Deal. Can we have Italian?”

For the first time in hours, Tyler let himself relax, a small smile playing on his lips as he whispered, “Sure, sweetheart. Anything you want.”

#Tyler Owens #Tyler Owens x reader #Tyler Owens x you #Tyler Owens Fic #Tyler Owens Fanfic #Tyler Owens Fanfiction

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poguelandiarafe · 2 months ago

Text

tough guy | rafe cameron

paring - rafe cameron x gf!reader

warnings - mentions of violence and getting stabbed

summary - rafe is telling you, topper and kelce about his day and brings up the fact he got into yet another fight. you don't like this so decide to put him in his place, knowing you're the only one who can (not set in any particular season).

masterlist

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to anyone else, dating rafe cameron would be scary, a struggle even. he's a man known for his reputation and will do anything to uphold it. whenever he enters a room all eyes are on him and it amazes you how he commands such attention without any effort at all. his features are strong and bold, just like his personality, and it's this that drew you in in the first place. the way he kept everyone at a distance, not letting anyone in.

except you.

you love a challenge and were determined to be let into his world. you're headstrong, stubborn, and know exactly what you want in life, stopping at nothing to get it. you're hot too, of course, but it's your determination that rafe thinks made him fall for you. it's like he's dating himself your personalities are so similar.

and you love to push his buttons, calling him out on whatever dumb shit he does.

--------

you're sitting on the sofa at tannyhill, rafe's arm slung over your shoulder to keep you next to him as he rambles on about another reckless thing he's done today. topper and kelce are scattered around the living room, taking turns to finish the joint you don't want anymore, listening to rafe. they're seemingly invested in whatever he's saying whereas you sit there scrolling through instagram, paying barely any attention to him.

"and then he pulled a knife on me," he laughs, "was fucking crazy."

your ears perk up, throwing his arm off your shoulder and sitting up to properly look at him. he looks at you briefly before going to carry on what he was saying but you cut him off.

"are you fucking crazy?" you ask, finger poking into his chest.

the room goes silent. topper and kelce freezing, in shock you spoke to rafe like that without him immediately shouting at you.

his eyes narrow at you and his brows furrow, "no? what's that meant to mean?"

"you were reckless, rafe. you can't start throwing punches every chance you get. jj literally pulled a fucking knife on you and you're here laughing about it." you say, voice raising from anger.

"you don't tell me what to do." rafe says, jaw clenched from being spoken to like that in front of his friends.

you match his intense stare, "i think i have every right to if you're putting yourself in a situation where you could die."

"he tried to sink my boat, i'm not just letting that shit slide! it's not like he'd actu-" he starts before you cut him off.

"don't you dare say he wasn't serious! what if he was, huh?" you snap, getting up and standing in front of him, "what if he actually stabbed you and i got a phone call saying you were in hopsital or that your body had been found? then what?"

it's quiet for a moment, rafe thinking over what you said. he feels guilty now, not really thinking about the consequences if something were to actually have happened, his adrenaline having clouded his rational judgement at the time.

"alright, alright. i get it baby. i'm sorry." he holds his hands up in mock surrender.

"you're not invincible just because you're rafe cameron. i don't want anything to happen to you."

he stands up, pulling you into him but you don't budge, arms crossed over your chest.

"i'm sorry for being reckless," he whispers into your hair, before he smirks, "but don't act like you don't love that i'm rafe cameron."

you roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around him now, "not when you're acting like this, i don't. just... promise to cool it. it hurts me when you come home covered in blood and bruises from yet another fight you've been in."

"okay, i promise i'll try. you're lucky you're hot." he mutters.

"you're lucky i put up with your shit." you counter, a smile on your lips.

while you and rafe were busy arguing, topper and kelce were silently smoking the joint, sharing looks every so often as they listened in.

"how does she get away with speaking to him like that?" topper whispers to kelce in disbelief.

"i have something he can't live without." you quip with a wink, overhearing him.

"okay, gross." kelce says.

"his words." you shrug.

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purinfelix · 3 months ago

Note

FELLOW FRANCO LOVERS RISE!!

Ok I’m not good at making requests but I think it would be cute if one of the interviewers wears an Argentina jersey and Franco is blushing and yapping in the media pen (and then he posts about it a million times like his handshake w Lewis)

good journalism ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ - franco colapinto

a/n: YES FRANCO LOVERS JOIN MEE i honestly love writing fics for this flirty little shit pls send more requests like this one eee it was so cute w/c: 922

It's all for the sake of good journalism.

At least, that's what you kept telling yourself - and all the other interviewers who were questioning why you were sporting an Argentina kit to a race that was being held in Singapore. Watching, buried in a hoard of other photographers and journalists, the race drew to a close and suddenly the crowd around you sprung into action. As drivers started trickling in, with tired expressions - some happy, others not, you resigned yourself to waiting. It was pretty clear you were only here for one.

He spots you as soon as he enters the media area, even though you're concealed by about a dozen other people. You watch as his eyes light up at the sight of the familiar blue and white fabric and he beelines towards you, ignoring the sound of others calling his name.

"Hello," he says, breathlessly with a beaming smile - you chalk the flush in his cheeks up to having just finished a race.

"Hi!" you spring immediately into interview mode, listing off question after question about the race. He answers them all as earnestly as he can, and the entire time you're watching him with an awe-struck look. The clamour and sound of camera flashes around you are drowned out as the two of you talk, and before you realise it you've forgotten you're conducting an interview and not just having a conversation.

"Well that's all the questions I had prepared, good job out there today, you did amazing!" you say, fully aware that you're gushing at this point but you're relieved when he offers you an earnest smile.

"Nice shirt," he points out, and you realise suddenly how keen he is to keep talking. You laugh, a little shy at being so openly acknowledged.

"I knew you'd like it!"

"Who's on the back?" he asks curiously and you turn around to show him, "Ah, Lionel of course, a woman after my own heart." You chuckle softly as he places a hand over his chest. There's a beat of silence when you honestly think he's about to leave but then he leans in a little closer.

"Blue looks good on you, maybe a Williams shirt next time?" He says it so casually it takes you a while to take in what he's saying - and to realise how boldly he's flirting with you.

"Ah," you let out, though it's more of a gasp than words, "I'll have to talk to your merch department about that."

"I'll be waiting," he beams, giving you a sly little nod before disappearing back into his garage. It's only once he's gone do you realise how sore your cheeks are from smiling non-stop. Letting out a shaky breath, slightly overwhelmed by how well that interaction went, you turn around to snake your way back through the crowd. You try to avoid eye contact with anyone but the other camerapeople only smile at you knowingly, and you can only hope some of them got good enough photos for you to remember this moment by.

It's only once you get back to your hotel room and open up your phone do you realise just how many pictures had been taken of the two of you - and how many of them were far better than 'good enough'. In one the two of you are deep in conversation, your brows furrowed in a frankly un-flattering way, him as perfect as ever. In another, you're both laughing, about what you're not entirely sure, but just looking at the photo makes your heart flutter. Your favourite by far though, is one where you're looking down at your notebook trying desperately to remember the questions you had wanted to ask him. There's a childish pout at your lips that you cringe at - but what makes it your favourite is the look on Franco's face as he watches you, cheeks flushed as his lips curl subtly at the corners.

You don't seem to be alone in this opinion either - at least, that's what you've deduced from the half a dozen times Franco has posted it. Clicking through his stories, you're taken aback by the fact that he posted more about your interaction than him scoring points - the photo of the two of you even becomes the cover of his post dedicated to the weekend. Looking at the post you're not even bothered by the hundreds and hundreds of comments speculating what's going on between you two. Instead, your attention is captured by the caption he's added to it - "A race weekend to remember, for more reasons than one."

It's a little corny, and you let out a soft chuckle as you scroll through the rest of his page shamelessly, though you're sure not to like any of his posts for fear of letting on too much. The two of you spoke once, and if you're being completely honest you're a little embarrassed to still be thinking about him at this moment.

Just as you're about to set your phone down though, it chimes with. a notification that makes your eyes widen - a follow request from none other than the man of the hour. The rational part of you begins questioning how he managed to find your profile or the professional concerns of a journalist and driver following each other. These concerns however do little to slow you down as you race to hit accept because at that moment the only thing you can think about is one thing - that he's thinking of you too.

#franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto fluff #franco colapinto oneshot #williams racing #williams f1 #formula one fanfic #formula one x reader #formula one fluff #formula one #jet writes ★#purinfelix #jet answers ✧

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kai-uh-arcadian · 2 months ago

Text

Firsts

synopsis: a collection of the firsts you have with Aeri <3

cw: it's purely fluff until the end and it's a bit... steamy hehe, fingering, brat! aeri, begging, finger sucking, nipple play, tension(?), if theres anything else please lmk!

word count: 6.5k

notes! hi my loves I hope you enjoy this! It's (lowkey) a continuation of Project: Aeri but I guess you don't have to read it for this to make sense... but you should! It's my first time ever writing smut so pls be kind hehe

lmk how you feel about this if you'd like and if you wanna chat my dms/asks are always open!

ps. the pics are supposed to be from each first hehehe and also also also did anyone catch the 3 sunflowers meaning?? :0

xoxo love youuu

also s/o to my BAE @wintersera thank you for the ideas for the smut (;

First date

After everything that had happened that night, you two remained in touch and saw each other quite often. The tension between you was clear, lingering in every glance, every playful tease. There was an unspoken fact but both of you had been too nervous to make the first move.

Until now.

After weeks of mutual pining, you finally decided it was time to take the initiative. You couldn’t wait any longer—you wanted her to be yours, officially (of course).

With slightly shaky hands, you clicked on her contact and pressed the call option, your heart racing as you held the phone to your ear– which was new because calling wasn’t foreign for you two.

“Uh, hello?” Aeri’s sweet voice rang through the line, smooth and familiar.

You cleared your throat, trying to keep your nerves in check. “Hey Aeri, you busy tonight? I, uh... wanted to ask you something”

There was a playful pause on the other end before she giggled. “Hmm... depends. What’s up?”

Your heart raced. “I wanna take you out on a date,” you blurted, a little more direct than you intended.

“Did you call me just to ask me on a date?” she laughed, her voice teasing, followed by a playful sigh. “How old are you, 80?” she teased, obviously enjoying your nervousness.

You rolled your eyes, trying to stay composed despite your pounding heart. “Oh, whatever! Do you want to go on a date or not, Uchinaga?”

“Hmm...” she drew out the sound, clearly toying with you, her tone mischievous. “Let me check my schedule. I might be able to pencil you in...” She trailed off for a moment, and you could practically hear the smirk in her voice.

You couldn’t help but grin, even though she couldn’t see it. “You’re such a tease.”

After a brief pause, she broke the silence with a laugh. “Yes! I can, is there like a dress code for this date?”

Your smile widened, the weight in your chest releasing slightly.

“Hmm. just something casual and comfy,” you replied, already mentally planning out the evening. “I’ll pick you up at 6?”

“Not even gonna tell me where we’re going?” she asked, her voice curious.

“Nope!” you said with a teasing grin. “It’s a surprise”

She let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine fine~, I guess I’ll trust you”

With a satisfied sigh, you hung up the phone and immediately began scrambling around your apartment. You grabbed extra pillows and blankets, carefully folding them and setting them aside. Then, you packed your laptop and collected an assortment of snacks and sodas, wanting everything to be perfect for your date.

You made your way down the staircase to the parking lot where your car sat. You pushed down the back seats of your crossover SUV, trying to make the space into a makeshift bed. You arranged the pillows and blankets neatly, trying your best to make it perfect. After placing the snacks and laptop down by one of the pillows, you felt a huge wave of excitement hit you.

Today’s the day

When everything was set, you hopped into your car, but as you started driving, a thought hit you—something was missing. A date wasn’t complete without a little something extra. Smiling to yourself, you made a quick detour to a nearby flower shop, quickly browsing through the fresh bouquets. After a few moments of searching, your eyes landed on the three sunflowers—vibrant, bold, and full of warmth, just like Aeri.

With the small bunch carefully placed on the passenger seat, you felt a surge of excitement. You couldn’t wait to see her reaction.

Finally, you arrived at Aeri’s apartment, your nerves kicking in again as you approached. You quickly texted her a simple, I’m here, before grabbing the sunflowers beside you. But the moment you saw her stepping out of her building, all those nerves melted away.

Dressed in casual sweats and a simple tank top paired with a black jacket, Aeri still managed to take your breath away. Her casual look only made her more radiant, and for a moment, you were speechless.

You hopped out of the car, sunflowers in hand, quickly making your way around to open the door for her.

Her eyes lit up when she spotted the small bouquet. “Are these for me? How’d you know they were my favourite?” she asked, her voice light with surprise.

“Of course they are,” you said, smiling shyly as you handed her the sunflowers. “And honestly I didn’t, they just reminded me of you”

Aeri grinned, holding the bouquet close and inhaling their sweet fragrance. “You’re too sweet, Y/N, and a little cheesy” she teased, her eyes sparkling.

“You look beautiful, by the way” you added ignoring her stupid little comment, your voice coming out softer than expected as you took her in.

She flashed a grin, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself, L/N,” she teased with a playful wink before stepping into the car, making you smile and roll your eyes.

Once you started driving, Aeri glanced over at you, interrupting the light music you had on, “Soo~ can I know where we’re going now, or are you just planning to kidnap me?” She chuckled.

“Damn. You caught me,” you teased back. “But if you keep talking, I might just reconsider and drop you back off.”

“Hey!” she laughed, lightly hitting your arm, and soon both of you were laughing.

“Okay, okay,” you said, not taking long to give in. “I’m taking you to this spot I used to go to when I wanted to relax or reflect on shit or whatever. It’s a pretty special place for me, and I wanted to share it with you… I even set up a little car picnic in the back.” Nervously rubbing the back of your neck before motioning towards the back seat

Aeri’s eyes lit up as she glanced behind her at the pillows and blankets you’d carefully arranged. “Y/N! That’s sooo cute!” she squealed, her excitement contagious as she reached over and gently rubbed your arm. “Thank you,” she added softly

“Yeah- Of course, Aeri,” you responded, your heart swelling at the way she looked at you

When you arrived, the sky was a breathtaking canvas of pinks and oranges, the sun slowly dipping below the horizon. You both made your way to the trunk of your car and you quickly connected your laptop to your hotspot while searching for a movie.

“And we’re watching a movie? You’re seriously the best,” Aeri said, her eyes lighting up as she took in the scene.

“Not just any movie... Deadpool!” you said with a grin, you remembered how it was her favorite movie.

“No way! Now you’re just spoiling me, n/n,” Aeri said, her cheeks dusted with a faint blush.

“Well yeah, nothing less for you Aeri,” you responded, feeling a little shy under her gaze.

The two of you settled into the makeshift bed, propped up against the pillows. Aeri’s head naturally found its place on your shoulder, and as much as you tried to focus on the movie, her familiar sweet scent made it impossible. You could feel her warmth, the weight of her resting against you, and your heart raced despite your best efforts to stay calm.

After a while, Aeri shifted slightly. “Can you lay down? My neck is hurting,”

You blinked at her, not quite processing what she meant at first.

“Hm?”

“...So I can lay on you?” she clarified, her eyebrows furrowing with a smile

“Oh— duh, yeah, of course,” you stammered, feeling your face heat up. You shifted around, carefully placing one arm behind your head and the other around her, pulling her in slowly. She nestled into the crook of your arm like she belonged there, her body fitting perfectly against yours.

The top of her head rested under your chin, her warmth enveloping you, and everything about the moment felt just right—like it was meant to be.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” Aeri pointed out, still focused on the screen that was on your lap.

“Mm,” you mumbled, trying to play it cool and dismiss it, even though your stupid racing heart was betraying you.

A few moments later, Aeri commented again, her voice light with amusement. “Like, it’s really fast. I can barely hear the movie,” she giggled, propping herself up on one elbow. Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she looked at you. “What’s going on? Am I making you nervous or somethingg~?”

She raised an eyebrow, locking her gaze with yours, and suddenly, you were at a loss for words. The movie continued playing in the background, but you could hardly hear it over the pounding of your heart. You were completely lost in her eyes, your breath catching in your throat.

Before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. “Will you.. be my girlfriend?” you finally managed to say, your voice soft, almost a whisper.

Her eyes widened in surprise before softening, something shy and tender was in her expression as she stared at you. For a moment, the playful air between you shifted.. To something serious.

“Is that.. Is that what you really want?” she asked, her voice sincere. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—uncertainty? nervousness?—but it was quickly replaced by warmth.

“Well.. yeah…” you replied, your heart still pounding, feeling more vulnerable than you ever had before.

Aeri’s lips twitched into a smirk, her tone deadpan. “Then no.”

You blinked in surprise, your jaw dropping just as she burst into a fit of laughter.

You realized you had just walked right into her joke, you groaned. “Ahh~ you’re sooo mean,” you huffed, though you were fighting off a laugh of your own. “I take it back,” you added, dramatically turning your head away like a pouting child.

“Nonono~ Y/n~ Wait, I was kiddingggg~” she giggled, practically pouncing on you. Her hands gently grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks between her palms.

“Ask me againnn~” she teased, her voice soft and sing-song as she planted a sweet kiss on your cheek.

Your stomach flipped, but you were determined to keep up the bit. “Nope~,” you pouted again, causing her to giggle even more.

She began peppering your face with soft, feathery kisses. “Ask~ me~ again~” she sang between each word with a kiss while her laughter rang out with each peck.

“Okay, okay!” you finally surrendered, looking up at her with a tender smile. “Will you be my girlfriend?” you asked again, your voice warm and sincere.

“Duh!” Aeri squealed, she couldn’t contain herself as she leaned down, closing the distance between you. Her lips met yours in a deep and longing kiss as you snaked your arm around her waist. Everything in the moment was warm and soft, brimming with excitement. You could feel her seemingly melt into you with the way her hands gently cupped your face, pulling you closer like she’d been waiting for this moment for a long time. (You both were)

You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss—it felt like everything had finally fallen into place.

First I love you

Since getting together, your Friday nights through Sunday mornings were habitually spent at Aeri's apartment. This super early morning was just like the rest. The soft hues of the sunrise peeked through the small gap in her blackout curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. The light stirred both of you awake, but neither of you was quite ready to leave the warmth of the bed. Aeri shuffled lazily, her body repositioning itself into the familiar crook of your neck, her hand resting gently on your chest.

Half-awake, you instinctively wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close. Without thinking, you pressed a soft, sleepy kiss to her forehead before sinking back into the comfortable haze of sleep.

An hour (or so) had passed, though it felt like quick moments, before you began to stir again. Your movements awoke Aeri, her body shifting as her eyes fluttered open, still hazy with sleep.

“Mmm,” she muttered, her eyes half-closed as she stretched one arm out lazily, her body snuggling deeper into yours.

You took the opportunity to nuzzle your face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of her skin as she wrapped her arm around you tighter.

“Hi, baby~,” you rasped, your voice still thick with sleepiness, your warm breath grazing her neck.

“G’morning,” she replied, her voice equally soft as her hand absentmindedly stroked your hair near your temple.

“Did you sleep well?” you mumbled, your eyes still closed as your leg slid to intertwine with hers, pulling her (impossibly) closer.

“Mhm..~” she hummed, her lips brushing lightly against your forehead in a sleepy kiss, which you returned with a soft kiss to her neck causing her to shutter.

For a while, the two of you lay in a comfortable silence, tangled together in a mess beneath the sheets. You could feel Aeri’s warmth against you, and the steady rhythm of her breathing lulled you back into a peaceful daze.

But then Aeri shifted again, her body stretching out as she let out a soft, tired groan.

“Baby~” she cooed sweetly, “I’m hungry.”

You felt her looking down at you, but your arms were still tightly wrapped around her waist, unwilling to let her go. “Five more minutes?” you whined, your voice muffled as you buried your face in her chest.

She giggled softly, running her fingers through your hair. “Mmm... okay,” she relented, her voice filled with sweetness. She could never say no to you when you looked so adorable, all sleepy and cuddly.

Inevitably, you both fell back asleep, the soft warmth of the morning wrapping around you like a nice blanket. You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you awoke again (maybe 20 minutes), but this time the bed was empty. The absence of Aeri’s warmth made you frown a little, and the quiet clattering from the kitchen telling you where she’d gone.

Groggily, you got up, tidied the bed a bit, and slipped on your house shoes. As you made your way to the kitchen, the smell of doenjang jjigae filled the air, instantly waking you up.

“Aeri~! What’s this?” you mumbled, your voice still heavy with sleep as you stretched, making your way toward her.

She turned toward you with a playful smirk. Dressed in nothing but an (your) oversized t-shirt and panties, she looked effortlessly gorgeous. “Oh, good morning to you too,” she teased. “Your bedhead looks cute.” She ruffled your hair a bit

You grinned lazily, stepping closer to her, grabbing her hand and placing a quick kiss to it. “Oh, I’m glad. I actually styled it just for you,” you quipped before leaning down to plant a quick ‘good morning’ kiss on her lips.

“Oh, really?” she laughed softly, turning back to the stove as if she hadn’t been affected, but you caught the slight blush dusting her cheeks.

“Mmm,” was all you could manage in reply, the smell of the food and the coziness of the morning settling in. You wandered off to turn on the TV, opening up Netflix to put on a drama in the background as you tidied up the apartment that (at this point) felt just as much yours as hers.

As you sank into the couch, you asked, “Need any help?”

Aeri shook her head, her attention still focused on the stove. “Nope, I’ve got it! I wanted to make you breakfast today.”

You chuckled at her determination in her voice, letting her take charge, though you couldn’t help but watch her out of the corner of your eye.

After a bit, Aeri groaned out an exasperated “Fuck,” and you glanced up from your phone, concerned if she had hurt herself or something.

“What’s happened, baby?” you asked, turning your phone off and setting it aside.

“Oh nothing, I was gonna make you a coffee and myself some green tea, but I just realized I ran out of ocha last week and forgot I didn’t pick any up yesterday, ugh! Like I was supposed to” she huffed, clearly disappointed.

A lightbulb appeared above your head as you were reminded “Oh babe! Check in the freezer,” you said casually. “I noticed you were low a few days ago, so I stopped by the Japanese market on 5th Street and grabbed your favorite. Ahh~ My bad I totally forgot to tell you”

“Ahh see! This is why I love you! Thank you Y/n!” she said enthusiastically.

Aeri continued for a second, her hands still submerged in the water as she was washing the rice.

You both froze.

Moments passed as you both processed what she had just said,

A teasing smile tugged at your lips as you made your way smoothly from the couch and you leaned against the counter. “You what me, Aeri?”

“Wait no wait!”

The color rose quickly to her cheeks, turning a shade of red you weren’t sure you had ever seen before. “N-nothing!” she stammered, her flustered voice almost a whisper.

You smirked, taking slow steps toward her. Flustered Aeri was a rare and delightful sight. “Mhm... right.”

As she tried to focus back on washing the rice, you snuck up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist and pressing a teasing kiss to her neck. “Say it again,” you whispered against her skin, enjoying the way she tensed up slightly in response.

“Oh stop~,” she whined playfully, trying to shrink down, but you weren’t going to let her off the hook.

You turned off the water, spinning her around gently so she was facing you. Before she could protest, you lifted her onto the counter, stepping between her legs and placing your hands on her hips.

“I love you too, Aeri Uchinaga,” you said softly, leaning in until your lips were just inches from hers. “Now say it again.”

The kiss that followed was tender, her lips soft against yours as her arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you even closer. When you finally broke the kiss, her eyes met yours, sparkling with a mix of affection and shyness.

“I love you, Y/N L/N,” she repeated, her voice quieter but filled with sincerity.

You grinned, brushing your nose against hers playfully. “Your hands are wet, by the way” you teased.

“Shut up, don’t ruin the moment,” she laughed, wiping her soaking wet hands on the back of your shirt before pulling you back into another kiss.

First time

Finals were just around the corner, and two of your dumbass professors decided to have an exam a week before their scheduled finals.

So, it’s a week before your two exams, and two weeks before your scheduled finals, and you’re about to arrive at Aeri’s place—to study, of course.

You arrive in a cutoff and sweats, your hair messily tied up, and your glasses on. Aeri couldn’t help but notice how hot you looked.

You smiled as soon as you saw her. “Hi, baby~,” you said, pulling her into a big hug and giving her a quick kiss. She smiled back, squeezing you tight for a second before letting go.

You made your way to your usual spot—the one you had officially claimed months ago. Normally, the comfort of Aeri’s apartment would ease any stress lingering from your day. But today felt different. As you sat down, a heavy sigh escaped your lips, and Aeri (also) couldn’t help but giggle quietly at how frazzled you looked.

Any other day, she’d take the chance to tease you, probably throwing in a playful jab about how cute you were when stressed. But today, she sensed you weren’t in the mood. Instead, Aeri focused on her own work, letting the comfortable silence between you settle in as you both fell into an easy rhythm, side by side. Despite the closeness, it felt like you were worlds apart—your mind tangled up in studying and exams, while Aeri’s gaze drifted over to you every now and then.

Without you noticing, she snapped a few sneaky photos of you as you sat there, brow furrowed in frustration, your lip caught between your teeth in the way it always did when you were deep in concentration. Aeri smiled softly to herself, finding the sight ‘sooo cute’ despite your obvious stress.

Aeri stood in the kitchen, humming softly as she worked on making a quick study break snack, her ears tuned into your rant as you sat at the table, laptop open, books spread out around you.

“I just don’t fucking understand why they’d schedule exams a week before finals week,” you huffed, fingers tapping rapidly on your keyboard, frantically searching the internet for a damn answer on your practice test. “It’s like they did this shit on purpose babe! Like they wanted me to suffer”

Aeri chuckled softly from the kitchen. “Oh yeah! I think I heard they had a meeting on ‘how to make your life terrible’ ” she teased, the playfulness in her voice catching your attention for just a moment.

You barely looked up from your laptop, rolling your eyes while you took your hair out of the bun and ran your fingers through your hair. You continued to vent before going back to your screen. Your eyes were back to being glued to the screen, fingers flying over the keys. “I don’t fucking doubt that, god I feel like like I’m on the brink of losing it if I don’t start retaining this bullshit anytime soon” you muttered.

Aeri’s footsteps padded softly across the kitchen as she finished garnishing the fried tteokboki, setting it down on the table where you were. “I don’t know how you do it,” she said casually, her tone light. “ Maybe you should take a break pretty...”

Your eyes flicked up briefly as you gave her a small, dismissive and tired smile. “I know..” you sighed “I just need to finish this and—”

“You look really hot when you’re focused, you know?” Aeri’s voice dropped slightly, the casual playfulness gone, replaced by something a little more mischievous.

Your fingers paused mid-type, your heart skipping a beat at her comment. “W-what?” you asked, turning your head to meet her gaze.

She smiled, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes—something teasing, almost daring. “Almost makes me jealous of that assignment you’re paying so~ much attention to.”

You swallowed, her words slowly sinking in as the tension in the room shifted. “Aeri,” you started, your voice hesitant, but she was already moving closer to you.

She crossed the distance between you in a stride, her fingers brushing lightly against your shoulders as she stood behind you. Her touch was feather-light, but it sent a spark through you as her breasts pressed up against you. “I just can’t get over how good you look tonight,” she murmured, her breath warm against your ear. “Wonder what it would take to get you to pay that kind of attention to me..”

Her fingers traced a slow line down your arms, and you felt your heart race as her hands rested lightly on your shoulders, her thumbs making small circles against your skin. The warmth of her body behind you, the casual confidence in her voice—it was enough to make your mind go blank, the rant you’d been lost in completely forgotten.

“I... I,” you mumbled, but even you could hear how weak your nervous protest sounded.

“Mm,” Aeri hummed softly, interrupting your stuttering as she leaned in, her lips grazing close to your ear. “How ‘bout just a little break? For me, baby?” she murmured, her fingers brushing your hair aside before placing a lingering kiss on your neck.

The warmth of her body so close to yours made the air feel thicker and heavier. Her hands shifted ever so slightly, sending a shiver up your spine. Your fingers hovered uselessly over the keyboard, your mind entirely abandoning your exams. All you could focus on was her, commanding your attention in a way that no textbook, no deadline, no nothing ever could.

“Ah~ fuck,” you sighed, leaning back into her touch, feeling the tension in your body ease. “I’m all yours,” you murmured, your voice breathy as you tilted your neck slightly, offering her more space.

“That’s my girl..”

She took full advantage, planting soft, lingering kisses from your neck up to your jawline before finally capturing your lips. Unable to resist, you pulled her around into your lap, and she straddled you, the closeness intensifying as both of you sank deeper into the kiss. Your hands instinctively found their way to her back, pressing her closer, while her fingers trailed up to your shoulders and tangled gently in your hair.

Slowly, your hands slid down to her lower back, pausing at the curve of her hips as you pulled her closer. She broke the kiss, her forehead pressing against yours, her breath coming in with shallow and needy gasps and you breathed them in. Her eyes were glazed with desire, a smirk playing at her lips.

“I need you, Y/n,” she whispered, her voice a mix of softness and urgency.

You looked at her, equally breathless, feeling every ounce of longing she held in her gaze. “Fuck~, I need you too,” you murmured in one breath before pulling her back in, your mouths meeting in a kiss that was all heat and intensity, tongues meeting halfway. Your hands roamed her back, tracing along her spine, and a shiver ran through you as her fingers grazed your skin, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

Without breaking contact, you hooked your arms under her legs, lifting her effortlessly as she wrapped her legs around your waist. You walked her down the hallway and managed to open her bedroom door with your foot, carrying her inside until her knees met the edge of the bed, where she let herself fall, pulling you down with her.

You caught yourself just before you landed, her arms still wrapped around your neck, keeping you inches from her lips. She giggled, her eyes dancing with mischief.

“Still wanna study?” she purred, her voice teasing.

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” you replied, a grin tugging at your lips as you leaned down to press soft, lingering kisses along her neck.

A soft moan escaped her lips as she tilted her head to give you better access. “That’s what I thought,” she murmured, her fingers weaving into your hair, holding you close.

“You’re so annoying,” you muttered playfully, pressing another kiss just below her jaw. Her eyes met yours, a gleam of challenge in them.

“And you like it,” she whispered, pulling you impossibly closer, her fingers tracing gentle patterns down your back.

You hummed in agreement, pressing your forehead against hers again. “Mhm,” you replied, voice low and filled with affection.

Your lips trailed down Aeri’s jaw, planting painfully slow kisses along her neck, each one drawing out a soft sigh from her. You could feel her hands gliding down your back.

Just as you were fully lost in her, her fingers moved lower, grazing along your inner thigh with feather-light touches that sent sparks up your spine and to your core. You let out a quiet gasp, which only made her smile even more, her eyes glinting with mischief.

She let out a teasing laugh as her fingers lingered at the inside of your thigh, not quite giving you what you wanted.

“Aeri…” you breathed out, the heat in your voice making her chuckle softly again.

But instead of moving her hand to where it should be, she slid it back up slowly, bringing it to rest just below your waist.

God she was teasing you

As she did, you moved your hands up, slipping under her shirt to rest on her waist before slowly sliding higher. Your fingers found the soft curve of her perfect tits, and her breath hitched as your hands squeezed gently.

Her soft, breathy moans fueled you, and you pressed gentle kisses along her collarbone, slowly making your way to the curve of her chest, savoring the warmth of her skin beneath your lips. She arched under your touch, fingers threading through your hair, each sound she made, made you even wetter than you already were.

Letting out a soft sigh, you leaned in, brushing your lips across the peak of her soft perky nipple while using your warm breath to tease her with a smirk. Your free hand found its way to her other nipple, gently pinching it. The cadence of her breath quickened and her hips began to slowly buck as if searching for some sort of release.

A satisfied, desire-filled grin spread across your face as you watched your girlfriend unravel, her usually sleek black hair now a tangled mess against the silk pillowcase, her brows knitted in both frustration and neediness.

Aeri’s breaths deepened as your touch sent little shivers through her, her fingers curling around your shoulders, grounding herself against you. Your lips hovered just above her perfectly hard nipple, her skin flushed with anticipation.

“Please,” she whispered, voice barely audible. If you hadn’t been watching her so closely, you probably would have missed it.

You raised an eyebrow, teasing. “What was that, Aeri?”

She turned her head to the side, (trying to hide as much of herself as she could into the pillow), clearly flustered and embarrassed, before whispering again, “Please…”

Gently, you brought her chin forward, guiding her to look at you. “I can’t help you, baby.. if you don’t use your words. You didn’t seem to have any trouble being mouthy earlier, huh?” You shot her a playful and challenging look.

Her eyes fluttered open and her cheeks flushed even deeper, and she took a breath before meeting your gaze. “Please… suck on my… nipples’”

“That's my good girl” you gave her a smug grin before averting your attention to her chest.

You (finally) insatiably wrapped your lips around her nipple which elicited a gaspy moan

“Fuck..”. Aeri’s head fell back, her nails digging into your shoulders as you continued savoring each bud, your attention fully on Aeri as her gasps filled the room. You smiled against her beautiful tits, feeling the heat radiating from them. Her fingers tangled through your hair even more, making you stay as close as possible as your kisses and gentle nibbles drew more and more breathy moans from her.

Letting one hand roam lower, you found her clit, tracing slow circles with your middle finger through the thin soaked fabric of her panties. Her body responded with each touch, soft and needy sighs slipping past her lips and she began to grind on your fingers needing more than what you were allowing her. You glanced up, catching her expression—a mixture of bliss and anticipation, her eyes half-lidded as she met your gaze with a dazed smile.

“Need something, princess?,” you murmured with a grin and an arrogant glint in your eye, trailing more kisses along her skin, taking your time. Each new touch, every small shift in pressure, had her melting beneath you and her pussy dripping for more.

Aeri secretly loved hated this. Where did this sudden surge of confidence in you come from? Wasn’t she supposed to be the one making you beg and pleading to touch her? Why did the fact that you have her completely under your control make you so fucking hot and her so turned on? UGH! The tables had turned and it was as exhilarating as it was maddening.

“N-no…” she managed, her voice shaky as she bit down on her lip in frustration, fighting to regain some sense of control.

Slowly, you lifted your hand from her now-ruined underwear. “Well, I could just stop here. I mean, I do have to study—

Her hand moved faster than lighting, gripping your wrist firmly, threatening to leave a mark. “Don’t you…fucking…dare,” she breathed 'threateningly', guiding your hand back to her pulsing clit as her hips jutted forward trying to meet you halfway.

“Or what?” You raised an eyebrow, stopping just shy of her needy pussy, knowing you had the upper hand this time. You fucking loved seeing her like this—Her playful bitchiness, unbreakable attitude, all crumbling away because you wouldn’t fuck her like the brat she is.

Suddenly, her bratty facade wavered, and her voice softened. “Please…” Tears threatened to spill as she whispered, arching herself toward your touch trying to find some sort of relief, her voice barely audible. “Mm-Please, I need you…need you to fuck me so bad…” She finally muttered out

You grinned, feeling the satisfaction of winning this round. “Anything you want, my pretty girl,” you said, savoring the way her eyes rolled back with need.

With a quick motion, you rid her of her drenched panties, and your finger began to trace gentle circles around her swollen clit, making her gasp. You ran your hand along her slit to wetten your finger with her juices, taking in each small reaction as her breath quickened, her voice slipping into load moans. Aeri was a complete moaning mess at this point and you haven’t even finished her off yet. Her hair was splayed out and droplets of drool ran down from her chin to her collarbone as her mouth was open.

You lifted her head gently with your free hand, making her meet your gaze. Slowly, you withdrew your long finger from her wet slick, and before she could protest the missing feeling, you pressed it to her lips, your thumb brushing her chin.

“Tell me how good you taste, baby,” you cooed, holding her gaze. She drew your finger into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it, ensuring every drop of herself was savored while tears spilled from the creases of her eyes while you fucked her throat with your finger.

With a soft pop, you pulled your finger back, using your thumb to brush the excess salina from her lips. “I taste…so fucking good,” she whispered, breathless, before pulling you in for a kiss, sharing the taste of her with you.

Your tongues danced together as your now lubricated finger found its way back down, and you teased her entrance briefly before going deeper, making her let out a gasp against your mouth.

You kept a steady rhythm, her moans mixing with the sound of your movements. Her head fell back, and she guided your mouth to her neck.

Aeri let out a loud moan into your ear, pausing a bit as your digit inched deeper and deeper inside her.

Once fully inside, “You okay?” You asked, your voice laced with genuine concern

“Mhm,” she winced with pleasure “More than okay”

You pulled her back in for a kiss as you continued to keep pumping into her, keeping a steady pace.

The noises from her dripping wet cunt and her loud moans filled her bedroom and she gently pushed your head from her neck/mouth towards her milky white breasts

“Please~ I need you to.. Suck on them”

Well... Who were you to deny your beautiful girlfriend?

You took one of her perky nubs into your mouth, using your front teeth to slightly nibble on them, causing her to moan louder than before as you felt her tighten around your finger.

“Oh~ Y/n.. please.. Please don’t stop.. I’m so” her sentence was interrupted by another lewd moan as you finger hooked at the right angle, finding her G-spot

“Fuckfuckfuck baby! P-plea~” she let out, her hand digging her nails into the back of your neck and upper back (probably) drawing blood

You pulled your mouth away from her nipple, “Are you going to be my good girl and say my name when you cum?” You said, looking up at her

You noticed she gasped in shock as her nipple suddenly lost the warmth from your mouth, brows furrowing even more

Desperately she tried to push you back on to her nipple, she was so close to her high but needed your mouth so~ badly to reach it.

“Yesyes ah~ fuck baby! I’ll be your good girl and cum.. Ah~ just for you” She used her free hand. desperately rubbing her clit

Your name felt like sweet honey as it rolled off her tongue, you couldn’t help but insatiably pump faster in her. Her moans, the wet sounds from her dripping wet cunt, along with the thought of her screaming your name. You almost finished right then and there.

“Oh fuck, Y/n y/n y/n,” she screamed out like some sort of mantra, “I’m gon-”

“You gonna cum just for me?” You bit into her neck, sucking and marking her as yours while moaning right into her ear.

“Yesyesyes, I’m.. fuck~! all yours Y/n~!” she yelped, she tightened around your fingers as her juices pooled into the palm of your hand and you gently slowed down the pace to ride her high as long as possible while she cried into your neck.

After a moment, She shuttered from her high and found herself in the crook of your neck for a bit, while both of you caught your breath for a second. She winced a bit as you removed your digit from her wetness and sucked it off quickly before wrapping your arms around her.

Another moment passed and a surge of embarrassment rushed through you as you realized her neighbors most definitely knew your name now. The sole thought of that made your cheeks heat up.

Moments of silence passed of you both catching your breath, you finally calmed down and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead before wrapping your arms around her fully. She sighed contentedly, her fingers tracing light, lazy patterns on your shoulder near your back.

In the quiet that followed, with both of you still laying there, you broke the silence. “Are you okay, baby?” you asked, your voice (still) breathless but full of tenderness as you looked down at her.

She nodded, smiling softly as she nuzzled closer. “More than okay,” she murmured, her voice laced with warmth. “Are you okay?

“Yeah” You gave her another kiss on the cheek “ I’m just.. A bit surprised” a sly smile crept on your lips

She looked up at you, sweat glistening off her skin while her hair stuck to her and raised a warning eyebrow as if she was thinking 'watch what you say', “mhm?”

“Ya know... for as mean as you are, I never expected you to beg like that” you teased

“Oh, you shut the fuck up!” she laughed, giving your shoulder a playful smack, which only prompted you to wrap her up in your arms as a reflexive defense.

“I’m for sure putting you in your place tonight,” she murmured, her voice low and rich with desire as she pulled you in for a deep and needy kiss.

747 notes · View notes

xoxoells · 5 months ago

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Single dad ghost and sweet little baker reader! (it works out trust me)

Single dad simon who has to get emergency cupcakes for his daughter’s class party, the six-year-old demanding that she’ll become the “coolest girl in class” and if she didn’t get her cupcakes, daddy would be her third favorite person. oh the horror!

And so, simon has no choice but to run down to the new bakery that opened up down the block, his nose flooded with the smell of icing and sugar the moment he hear the door chime from his arrival.

“Hello?” He calls, wondering if anyone’s in the bakery.

He turns around to leave, before you call out after him, apologizing and telling him that you were baking in the back. Not that simon could care less, he was focused on you. The way the apron hugged the fat of your body, plump from your years of working at the bakery. The way your bair looked in that distressed bum, practically falling apart from running to the counter. Most importantly, the cream and frosting covering your face. Simon began to wonder if his frosting could-

“Sir? Sorry if you didnt hear me. What would you like today?” you chirped, cutting off his filthy thoughts. “Just some cupcakes. for my girl.” Girl? must be a lucky lady, you thought, untill he whipped out a picture on his phone, a badly drawn unicorn cupcake that his daughter drew, covered in pompoms and glitter.

You tried to contain your smile as you said that it was no problem, and you could make them in a jiff. Simon watches as you fill in his order, and tell him what to do when he comes to pick it up. All of that goes over his head though, when you say “You seem like such a good father” Simon grins. Wouldnt you like to know sweetheart, maybe you could be her new mother. “well, she’s only got me since her mum ran away. I do what i can” Simon says, knowing that he’s left that imprint im your head.

Simon leaves your bakery, mind heating up like an oven from what he could, no, will do to you.

“Who was that hottie?” Your co worker says ,appearing from the back. “No clue, but i hope that kid wants a new mom.”

#cod #18+ mdni #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #task force 141 #call of duty #modern warfare #pin me to the table im going feral #ghost x reader

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secretsofafangirll · 9 months ago

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video star

summary: the time when Olivia appeared in a blind, deaf, mute baking video with the triplets and Matt couldn't keep his hands to himself.

warnings: touchiness in front of people/on camera, suggestive language, suggestive content, use of pet names.

a/n: the song doesn't have any significance, it just plays in o.c.'s headphones.

"Hey guys, welcome back to another Wednesday video," Nick blurted at the camera posed several feet in front of them, "Today we're doing another Deaf, Blind, Mute Baking Challenge."

"However," Chris butted in, sticking a mocking finger in the air, "We have a special guest for today's video," He drawled out and looked off to the side where I was standing. Matt was still leaning back against the counter and smiled at me.

"Come on out, sweetheart." Matt beckoned me over with a flick of his fingers and a nod of his head. I jumped into frame and smiled at the camera.

"Hi guys!" I waved enthusiastically and placed my hands on the counter in front of me.

"For those of you who don't know, Olivia is our best friend in the whole world and Matt's girlfriend. If you didn't know that, you've obviously never watched a video because she's in all of our vlogs and we never shut up about her." Nick summed up the basics for the viewers at home.

I've been friends with the triplets since my freshman year of high school. Chris and I instantly clicked one day in Math when our more extroverted personalities found their ways to one another. He introduced me to his two triplet brothers at lunch that same day, and the rest was history. We became inseparable and spent every second of every day together since. Things became interesting with Matt and me as we got older and grew into ourselves but we officially started dating after we graduated high school. We were always scared to announce our relationship to his fans because they can be volatile to their female friends, but once we did and they accepted that we loved each other, we've been so open and comfortable expressing that love physically on camera.

"So, how this is gonna work is..we're gonna draw out of a hat and three people are gonna be either blind, deaf, or mute and one person won't be able to use their hands. Let's hope that person isn't Olivia, because she's the only one of us that really can bake, like at all," Chris addressed the room and the camera.

"Dude, if I get fucking handcuffed, this is gonna be awful," I raised my brows and turned to Chris.

"Have a little faith, kid," Chris bumped my hip with his. I heard the car keys rattle on Matt's belt loop as he pressed himself away from the counter and came up behind me to wrap his arms around my neck. My hands subconsciously reached up to grip his muscular forearms.

"Alright, well, let's get the fuck on with it," Matt spoke.

"Okay, relax. We've been rolling for two fucking minutes." Nick stuck an accusatory hand up at Matt.

Nick reached around the counter for the hat and we all drew a card.

"Matt, you say yours first," Nick assigned.

"Mute," Matt chuckled, "Too easy."

"Deaf," I read aloud, "Yay! I just get to listen to music." I ran over to the couch and grabbed my headphones, working to connect them to my phone and find a playlist.

"Noo!," Chris whined, "Handcuffed."

"Loser", Nick teased.

"Which means that I am blind." Nick concluded, "Olivia wanted to bake something from scratch but that's a bit too hard for us, so we just got boxed brownies with, like, an extra cookie thing that we have to do too."

As Nick started to read off the contents of the box, I placed the headphones over my ears and pressed "shuffle" on Spotify. The first song to grace my ears was "B.Y.O.B" by System of a Down. A loud, scream-y nu-metal jam to deafen my sensitive ears. If I listened to anything too quiet, I'd be able to hear them. I watched as Matt tied the blindfold onto Nick and then Chris tied the bandana onto Matt. Matt then locked the handcuffs onto Chris' wrists behind his back.

I watched as the three of them tried to talk to each other, myself trying to read their lips and body language. I knew Matt well enough to know he was frustrated and Chris well enough to know he was giving Nick directions.

Quickly, when they started to struggle too much, they called me over. However, my eyes were closed as I mouthed the words to the song and I couldn't hear them.

"Everybody's going to the party have a real good time," I sang with Serj and wagged my finger to the Ooh.

What made me open my eyes was Matt pushing a hand against my lower back to guide me to the counter. The sudden jolt and touch startled me and I lurched forward, almost falling into the hard counter top face first. Matt's hand quickly shot and gripped my waist, pulling me back into him.

"Oh my God!" I yelped, my hands shooting out in front of myself to stop me before he did. He spun me around in his hands and I placed my extended hands on his chest, "Thank you!" I yelled, unaware of my volume. He just pressed a finger to my lips to tell me to be quieter. I whispered a faint apology in return.

I looked over to Chris who was probably spewing some bullshit at us about how cheesy we are, seeing as how his left cheek flexed up slightly in annoyance. Matt ushered me over to the counter where they handed me the box to try and fix what they already messed up. I took one look at the batter and knew they added too much oil.

"Okay," I started, "I think you guys just put too much oil, but it's not hard to fix. I just need a dehydrator like flour or cornstarch to dry out the oil." I turned around to grab the flour from the cabinets that I stock for them, because if I didn't they'd either starve or waste all of their money on eating out.

Due to my shorter stature, I had to stand on my tip toes and stretch the life out of my arms to reach the flour. Matt came up behind me and placed a hand on my side to tell me to relax and he reached up and grabbed it for me. I thanked him before turning around and continuing to mix the brownies, Matt's front just brushed my back the whole time as he watched over my shoulder, his hand resting gently on my hip.

Once I was done with the brownies, I needed to grab a bowl for the cookie part. I wasn't planning on making it, since it's supposed to be a challenge, but I still grabbed the equipment needed. I bent down in front of Matt to grab a smaller bowl from the cabinet below the island. When I leaned over, I didn't realize two things; one, how close I was to Matt and what he wouldn't be able to resist doing when he noticed the position we were in, two, how it would look on camera.

Both of Matt's hands found my hips when I unexpectedly stuck my ass into the air right in front of his dick and he subconsciously pressed himself a tiny bit further into me. Soon, his hand left my hip and it braced itself on the counter above my head so that I wouldn't hit the counter when I got back up.

"Okay, so you guys need to do this, because this is supposed to be your guys' challenge." I started clearly over the sound of Evanescence’s "Going Under”. I sang the words under my breath as I turned away to let them do what they needed to do. I hopped up onto the counter behind them and enjoyed my music as I watched them yell at each other.

At least I thought they were yelling at each other...

Turns out they were yelling at me to preheat the oven that I was sitting next to. I watched as Matt stepped closer to me. He placed his hands on my thighs and nodded to the oven dials. I quickly understood and turned the dial to 350 degrees. Matt's eyes darted all across my face and down my body that was only clothed in shorts and a tank top due to the intense Los Angeles heat. I knew exactly what look he was giving me and it was killing him that he couldn't kiss me.

"Later," I mouthed to him and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. He dropped his head to my shoulder and I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulder to squeeze him into me.

Soon after, the brownies had made it out of the oven safely and we were all stripped of our sense-depriving shackles. I was kind of disappointed to be done with the music, but I missed hearing my favorite boys talk.

"Okay, the brownies are done and they look fine," Nick began to the camera, "But we did fuck them up a little bit, so hopefully Olivia's fix was okay."

"Bro, she's literally a professional chef at this point, I'm sure they're still gonna be great," Chris said matter-of-factly. Nick began to cut the brownies, which they should've baked on parchment paper, and got a piece for all of us. He slid it in front of me and we all tried a bite. They still tasted great and they looked like boxes.

"Obviously, if it were up to me, we wouldn't have boxed anything, but for a boxed brownie mix," Matt came up and hugged me from behind and my hands fell to his that wrapped around me, "I would give this is a solid 8 out of 10." I said giving a thumbs up with the camera.

When they had all given their notes and feedback, they said goodbye to the camera and turned it off.

"You guys need to practice a little something called self-control, you horny fucks," Said Nick as he shook his head and took down the filming equipment.

"Shut the fuck up, Nick," Matt spat as he pulled me closer, "Hi, my girl. D'you have fun?" He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I pulled back slightly and leaned up to kiss his lips, "Mhm. I always have fun filming with you guys." I smiled up at his stunning face.

"What'd you listen to?" He asked, pulling away from the hug to reach over and grab a cup from the cabinet, but keeping a hand on my waist. I turned to watch him as he got what he needed.

"I listened to System of a Down and Evanescence. I wish that, like, Nirvana or something came on though." I sighed and looked down for a moment before focusing my attention back on him.

"S'nice. I need to branch out, broaden my musical horizons," He said as he filled his cup with water from the fridge.

"And your kitchen horizons, because, my God, you guys suck at baking." I teased exasperatedely.

"Hey, watch yourself," He tutted, "They suck at baking, I, on the other hand, can whip up a good dessert."

"Alright, mister, I bought already-been-smoked salmon and tried to cook it anyway, Sturniolo." I accused, rolling my eyes jokingly.

"Oh, yeah? You want to play it that way?" He smiled smugly and slowly stepped toward me, setting his water down on the kitchen island.

I backed away in response and put my hands up in defense, "I'm not playing anything. M'just sayin' it how it is. S'not my fault your egos too big."

"You little-," He cut himself off and reached for me. A high-pitched yelp escaped my mouth as I dodged his hand and I backed away from him before running to his bedroom. I might be more agile than him, but his legs are much longer than mine. He caught up to me as I was trying to slam his door shut, and he stopped the door before I could close it. He swooped in quickly, picked me up, and tossed me onto the bed, kicking the door shut somewhere in between.

"Matt!" I giggled, as I sat up, bracing my hands behind me. He crawled onto the bed in front of me and shoved my chest back down.

"Those brownies might have been good," He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss right below my ear, "But I know you're gonna taste even better," He whispered into my ear and began to trail a path of open-mouthed kisses down my neck...

author's note: alright...how'd we like it? I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I wanted to put something out. I liked the concept but I'm unsure of how it turned out. let me know what you guys think.

all the love, she <3

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #fluff #nicolas sturniolo #childhood best friends to lovers #fanfic #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo fanfic

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mrsfancyferrari · 2 months ago

Text

My Priority

Summary: MV1 + "You're my priority." 🍂🦃

Song: i'm yours by Isabel LaRosa

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 6.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

The sun dipped low over the Monaco harbor, casting a golden hue over the sleek yachts and classic buildings. It was race weekend, and the atmosphere buzzed with excitement.

Fans adorned in vibrant team colors filled the streets, while the pit lanes prepared for the moment that would thrill millions around the globe.

Among the horde of dedicated supporters and high-profile personalities were three friends, caught in a whirlwind of competition and camaraderie: Max, Charles and Lando.

Today, he stood in the crowd, his eyes fixed on you—a talented influencer and recently appointed ambassador for the racing team.

With your effortless smile and magnetic personality, you effortlessly drew a gathering of admirers around you, signing autographs and taking cheerful selfies, your laughter ringing like music above the cacophony.

Charles and Lando, seated comfortably on a nearby bench, exchanged knowing glances as they watched Max, who seemed lost in a dreamy haze.

“Look at him,” Lando snickered, leaning back on his hands. “I swear he’s drooling.”

“Max, the biggest simp in Monaco,” Charles teased, suppressing a laugh. “He’s got those hearts in his eyes again.”

Max was clearly oblivious, completely entranced by your graceful presence. He didn’t just admire you; it was as though he had built a world around the very idea of you.

The way you spoke with your fans, how you listened to each story and responded with genuine interest—it captivated him.

“Should we go over and rescue him?” Lando suggested, feigning concern while he grinned. “Or do we let him bask in his hopeless dreams for a little longer?”

“He’ll be fine,” Charles replied, shaking his head. “But maybe we should give him a little push. He wouldn’t take any of this as serious if it were us in front of that crowd.”

“I can’t believe he’s got it this bad,” Lando said, his tone playful, “What spice do you think he would add to the word ‘simp’ if it was his turn to describe it? Charismatic? Earned? I can practically hear his monologue right now.”

Charles laughed, then leaned forward, narrowing his eyes as he studied Max. “But seriously, look at him. It’s like watching a puppy. You know he wouldn’t even know what to say to her.”

While they teased Max, he remained entranced. Conscious of his friends’ snickering, he reluctantly stole a glance at them and noticed their laughter.

Realizing what they were up to, he straightened, a blush creeping up his neck.

“Guys! Quit it!” he called out, his voice laced with embarrassment. “I’m just watching!”

“Yeah, watching her while looking like you’re in a personal rom-com,” Lando snickered. “How about a quick flirt, huh? We can’t let those hours of sim racing go to waste, Max!”

“Or we could help you,” Charles added, the corners of his mouth curling into a teasing grin. “I could distract her while you swoop in for a heroic rescue.”

Max rolled his eyes, attempting to shake off their banter, yet a smile tugged at his lips, unable to fully resist the comedic timing of his over-the-top friends.

“You two are ridiculous, you know that? I’d rather drown than ask either one of you for ‘help’.”

“Oh please, it wouldn’t even be asking!” Lando exchanged a knowing grin with Charles. “You’d be thanking us with how epic this moment will be.”

Just as their banter continued, you finished with the last group of fans, standing tall under the sun, blissfully unaware of the trio observing you.

You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and took out your phone, scrolling through your messages.

“Look! She’s free! Go now!” Lando exclaimed, shoving Max lightly.

“What? No! I can't!” Max stuttered, standing rigid, his earlier confidence evaporating.

Charles leaned closer, unfazed by Max’s protests. “You brought this on yourself. You can’t let the opportunity pass you by. Just be yourself.”

“Be myself?” Max echoed incredulously. “What does that even mean? Look at her! She’s amazing. I’m just… me.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Charles replied. “She doesn't want another trophy; she wants someone real. If you don’t go talk to her, you’ll never know.”

With a deep breath, Max took a step back, contemplating the ocean of thoughts that whirled within him. “What if I mess up? Or worse, what if she thinks I’m just a weird guy?”

“Mate! You're the Max Verstappen,” Lando shrugged. “I don't think she'll care.” He winked. “Now go. You could get all the cool points.”

With a silent nod and a rush of adrenaline, Max finally took a step forward. As he approached you, he tried to focus on the words swirling in his mind.

Closer and closer, he felt his heart race—this was it.

You looked up just as he reached you, and your eyes met his. His breath caught, a mix of excitement and nervousness weaving together. “Hey…,” he managed to say, suddenly feeling small in this vast world of possibility.

You smiled brightly, that same warmth radiating from you that had drawn him here. “Hi there! You’re a fan of the team, right?”

Max nodded, wrestling with the best response while standing here, finally face to face with the person he admired yet knew so little about. “Yeah, I mean, um, I—I am.” He swallowed hard. “I saw you with your fans over there, and, um, you were amazing.”

A soft chuckle escaped you. “Thank you! I love connecting with them. It’s the least I can do. They make our sport so vibrant and exciting.”

“I can see that,” Max said, feeling the confidence slowly emerging. “Just like you’re making this whole weekend brighter.”

The two of you shared a laugh that alleviated the tension, and with each word, the distance between you lessened. The shimmer of stars began to paint the sky as the sun set, casting a magical glow over the race circuit, where a new chapter began to unfold.

Meanwhile, Charles and Lando watched from a distance, an approving grin plastered on their faces. “Maybe our Max isn’t such a hopeless case after all,” Lando mused, nudging Charles.

“Looks like our little simp might just prove us all wrong,” Charles replied, folding his arms in satisfaction as they witnessed the unfolding moment between you and Max, already knowing it was destined to be a story worth telling.

You’ve always found comfort in the chaos of racing. The revving engines, the smell of burnt rubber, and the exhilaration hanging in the air—every race was a whirlwind of excitement.

As a social media influencer, you had the chance to immerse yourself in this electrifying world, and attending each Grand Prix was like living in a breathtaking dream.

But it wasn't just the races that thrilled you; it was the company you kept, particularly Max.

He was a whirlwind on the track, deftly maneuvering through the chaos of his competitors. Off the track, however, he was refreshingly down-to-earth.

From the moment you met, a strong bond formed—a friendship that quickly evolved into the kind of connection that made fans and onlookers raise their eyebrows with curiosity.

Your camaraderie was vibrant and infectious, turning the drivers’ lounge into your personal arena of chaos where everyone else was a spectator.

“Hey, Max!” you exclaimed, waving as he walked through the driver’s lounge after a particularly grueling race in Miami. A smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth.

“Y/N! Ready for some ‘maxplaining’?” he teased, giving you a playful nudge.

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “You mean me doing the yapping, Maxplaining is your job.”

“Touché,” he grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “But let’s compare notes on what went wrong today. I have a few things to say.”

You led him to a quieter corner, the hum of the lounge fading as the two of you settled into a rhythm. You were comfortable with each other, like family.

“Okay, admit it,” you began, leaning in conspiratorially. “You totally could have cut that last corner better. What were you thinking?”

Max feigned a horrified gasp. “What do you mean? I was just giving the crowds a show! It’s about the drama, Y/N!”

“Drama?” you chuckled. “More like a slow dance with the wall! Lando warned you, didn’t he?”

Max smirked, clearly enjoying the banter. “Lando is always going on about it. It’s like he thinks he can drive better just because he’s got a fancy new helmet.”

At that, you burst out laughing, imagining Lando prancing around, confidently boasting about helmet aerodynamics while utterly ignoring the zen of driving.

Lando had long since accepted his role in your friendship as the comedic relief, always reminding you both to loosen up amidst the pressure.

As the races sped by from more distant tracks like COTA to the legendary Brazil Grand Prix, your friendship deepened wonderfully, forming an unbreakable bond.

Instagram stories filled with laughter and spontaneous videos of Max’s antics, unfiltered and untamed, all while being followed by millions.

It wasn’t merely a friendship; it was an adventure, one you cherished.

“Oh, I’m definitely maxplaining this one for the Gram,” you declared one day, holding up your phone as Max attempted to juggle a football while simultaneously answering questions from fans.

“Y/N, focus! We need to practice our pre-race rituals, not showcase my juggling skills,” Max replied, though he couldn’t resist the allure of the camera, striking a mock-serious pose.

“Fine, focus mode activated! But I’ll always film your epic fails,” you bantered, capturing him dramatically failing to keep the football afloat.

The moments you shared were infused with invaluable lessons and effortless joy. It was on a chill evening following a hot race that things began to shift for you both.

“Do you ever think about what life would be like if you weren’t racing? Like, normal stuff?” you asked, settling comfortably in a lounge chair, your gaze fixed on the sunset outside the paddock.

Max paused, his expression turning thoughtful. “Sometimes. It’s hard, though. Racing is everything I know—you lose track of reality. But I guess if I weren’t here...” he trailed off, his brow furrowing, “I’d probably be lost.”

“I get that,” you affirmed. “But you’re not just a racer, Max. You’re an inspiration to so many. It’s more than just speed; it’s the grit and passion the fans see.”

A shy smile crept across his face. “And you, Y/N, you’re more than just this influencer. You humanize the sport. You put a face to racing that isn’t just helmets and stats.”

Caught off guard by his sincerity, you felt a flutter in your chest. “Thanks, Max. That means a lot,” you replied, warmth spreading through you.

There was a beat of silence before he continued, “Have you ever thought about how this could go beyond racing?”

Your heart raced. “What do you mean?”

"Nothing," he muttered shyly, his ears went bright red and excused himself to finish his debriefing. . . .

The evening sun cast a warm glow over the park as Max leaned against a nearby wall, scrolling through his phone.

He had been enjoying his time with you, your banter and laughter filling the air, a comfortable rhythm you had established over the weeks.

Yet, beneath the surface of your friendship, Max felt a flicker of something deeper, a burgeoning affection he hadn’t quite dared to voice.

Suddenly, he noticed a figure approaching you—a tall, dark-haired guy who carried himself with an ease that annoyed Max for reasons he couldn’t fully articulate.

As the guy drew closer, he greeted you with a wide smile, and you responded with a tension in your shoulders that sent alarm bells ringing in Max’s head.

"Hey, Y/N!" the guy said, his voice overly cheerful as if he were trying to create an upbeat atmosphere. "Long time no see! How have you been?"

“Uh, hi, Ben,” you replied, your voice lacking its usual vibrancy. “I’ve been… good.” You shifted your weight uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact while fiddling with the strap of your bag.

Max couldn’t hear the rest of your conversation, but he could see your discomfort rise like a tide. Ben leaned in closer, gesturing animatedly with his hands, and Max’s heart raced.

It was clear you wanted to retreat, but Ben seemed oblivious to your disinterest.

Max took a step off the wall, deciding he didn't like the way Ben was invading your personal space. He approached them, a casual yet protective demeanor in his stride.

“Hey, babe! There you are!” he had called out, forcing the brightness into his tone, hoping to drown out the awkwardness hanging in the air.

Your relief was evident as you turned to him with that light that made everything feel right.

“Oh! Maxy, hey!” you exclaimed, that simple greeting sending a jolt of happiness through him.

He couldn’t help but grin at the way your eyes lit up when you saw him, a stark contrast to the cloud that overhung your expression when you were with Ben.

“Yeah, I just… um, was catching up with Ben here,” you said, the slight falter in your voice not going unnoticed by Max.

He felt a flicker of protectiveness flare up inside him, and he stepped closer, narrowing the space between you and Ben.

“Ben!” Max called, feigning cheerfulness as he directed his attention to the other guy, whose smile seemed to dim the moment he realized Max had entered the scene. “You’re still talking about high school? What a wild ride that was, right?”

Ben chuckled lightly, clearly irritated with Max's interruption but not wanting to show it. “Yeah, we were just reminiscing about old times,” he replied, shooting you a glance. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

“Right,” you muttered, your gaze darting away, unable to meet either of their eyes.

Max could see you were struggling, trapped in some unspoken tension, but he didn’t want to let you stay there any longer.

“Well, we’ve got our own plans,” Max interjected smoothly, a hint of challenge in his voice as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder gently.

“So, are you ready to grab that smoothie we talked about? The mango one?” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice like a conspirator sharing a secret, “I hear it’s worth it.”

You caught his eyes, and in that moment, your gratitude was palpable.

“Yes! I could really go for a mango smoothie right now,” you said, the tension easing from your face as you shifted your weight towards Max, your unexpected ally in this moment.

“Smoothies are great for tackling the past,” Max added with an exaggerated grin at Ben, who now looked like a puppet with its strings cut.

Max felt a thrill of satisfaction watching the other man’s expression sour, knowing you were finally free to escape this uncomfortable confrontation.

“Good to see you, Y/N,” Ben forced through gritted teeth, his eyes boring into Max as if trying to figure him out.

“Yeah, you too,” you replied, the practiced politeness in your tone striking a sharp contrast to the warmth you’d shown Max.

Together, you turned away from Ben, the café’s atmosphere lightening as you stepped outside into the warm sun.

Once you reached the sidewalk, your sigh of relief was almost comical. “Thank you for that, Max. I didn’t know how to get away.”

“Anytime,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual while his heart raced. “Ben can be a little… intense, can’t he?”

You laughed, the sound genuine and bright. “Intense is one way to put it. He has a way of making things complicated.”

“He’s... well, we have some history that’s not exactly fun,” you admitted, your expression somber as you waited for your smoothies.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Max asked gently, his heart thumping in his chest.

He didn’t want to push you, but he was curious and concerned at the same time.

You hesitated for a moment, your fingers tracing the rim of your phone. “It was just a complicated relationship. One of those where things started out great, but eventually spiraled into something toxic. It was… hard to let go.”

Max’s expression softened. “I understand. You don’t have to share everything if you’re not comfortable, though. I just want you to know I’m here for you, always.”

You smiled, a genuine light coming back to your eyes. “I appreciate that, Max. I think after all this time, I’ve finally learned what I want in my life. You just being here means a lot.”

“That’s what friends are for, right? And I wouldn’t want anyone to make you feel uncomfortable. You deserve better than that,” Max said, handing you the smoothie.

“Thanks, Max. You really are a great friend.” As you two walked away from the stand, you stole a glance at him, your eyes shining. “You know, I’m really glad to have you in my life.”

Max smiled. He just hoped he was something more to you. . . . .

It was a sunny Thursday afternoon when your phone buzzed unexpectedly. The screen lit up, revealing an incoming call from a number you recognized as belonging to Red Bull Racing's media team.

Your heart raced; you just had been following F1 closely, and your recent friendship with Max Verstappen had garnered its fair share of attention on social media.

You answered the call, curiosity piqued.

“Hey! Is this Y/N?” a cheerful voice greeted on the other end.

“Yes, it is!” you replied, trying to sound composed. “Who am I speaking with?”

“This is Sarah from Red Bull's media team. We’ve been monitoring the amazing fan reactions to the content featuring you and Max. We’d love to capitalize on that momentum,” she explained.

"We’d like to invite you to join Max for a fun game, which we plan to share on our social media. Are you up for it?"

You couldn’t believe it. “Absolutely,”

“Great! We’ll set it up for tomorrow afternoon. You'll both be given ten questions. Some will be about F1, and others will be random. Sound good?”

“Sounds fantastic,” you hung up, excitement bubbling inside.

Who wouldn't want to play a game with one of F1's biggest stars?

The next day, you arrived at the Red Bull Racing headquarters, a breathtaking fusion of sleek modern design and rich motorsport culture.

The moment you stepped inside, you were greeted with genuine smiles from the team members bustling around, their energy infectious, the air thick with the anticipation that always brewed before a race.

ou could hear the chatter about tire compounds and race strategies, a symphony of excitement that made your heart race.

After a quick cup of coffee—rich and strong enough to zap you awake—you engaged in light banter with a few of the engineers, teasing them about the latest car performance.

Just as you were beginning to feel at home, Olivia, the content manager, came over and ushered me into a bright studio space designed explicitly for video content.

“Ready for some fun today?” she asked, a playful glint in her eyes.

“I’m always ready for fun, especially with Max,” you replied with a grin.

As you entered the studio, you spotted Max Verstappen lounging against a table, his trademark red and blue cap perched backward on his head.

He was scrolling through his phone, but he looked up as you walked in, his face lighting up with a warm grin.

“Hey! Finally, the famous Y/N has arrived!” he exclaimed, his tone playful and welcoming.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Don’t exaggerate, Max. I’m just the guy who occasionally shows up in your videos.”

“Nah, you’re a big deal now! Everyone loves the banter we have,” he insisted, pushing himself off the table and giving you a light punch on the shoulder. “Ready to get this started?”

“Absolutely. Let’s see who knows the other better!” you replied, feeling playful and competitive.

Sarah stepped in, ready to explain the rules. “Alright, everyone! Here’s how it will work. You’ll each take turns asking questions, alternating between F1 trivia and personal ones. Let’s find out just how well you know each other!”

“Sounds good,” Max said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Ladies first.”

“Alright, Max,” you said, preparing to razz him with your first question. “What’s my favorite food?”

He crossed his arms, a teasing glint in his eyes. “That’s easy—pasta! But the way you always go on about it makes it seem like you think you’re Italian.”

You burst out laughing, caught off guard by his accuracy. “Damn! You’ve been paying attention,” you replied with mock disbelief. “But just wait till you get yours.”

“Bring it on!” He replied, leaning in with an eager grin.

You took a deep breath and decided to up the ante. “Okay, here’s an F1 trivia question. What year did Red Bull Racing first win the Constructors’ Championship?”

Without missing a beat, he said, “2010,” You raised an eyebrow. “Impressive!”

Then it was Max’s turn. He leaned closer, an intensity in his gaze. “What’s the last concert you went to?”

You paused for a moment, recalling the memory. “It was a Coldplay concert last year. They were amazing!”

The questions flowed naturally, and laughter filled the room as the banter turned to playful teasing. Each time he got an answer right, there was a spark—a moment of connection that seemed to linger in the air a second too long.

You caught him glancing at you from the corner of his eye, his expression both challenging and curious.

“Okay, okay, I have one for you,” he said, leaning forward conspiratorially, as if ready to break some sacred bond. “What do I like to do on my days off?”

You squinted, trying to remember the few times the team had shared off days together. “Uh, you like spending time with your cats, and you also love to do sim racing?”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Close! I do love spending time with sim racing, but I also spend too much time playing FIFA. You should’ve known that!”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Alright, your turn! What’s my guilty pleasure?”

Max smirked, a glint of mischief swirling in his gaze. “You’re definitely a sucker for reality TV. Pretty sure I’ve caught you watching Love Island USA a couple of times.”

“Guilty as charged!” you admitted, laughing along with him. “But I can defend my choices if you want—ahem, it’s simple entertainment!”

His lighthearted ribbing felt warm and right, and the camaraderie between the two of you had grown into a familiar rapport almost effortlessly.

As the Q&A continued, you both slowly drifted into laughter punctuated by thoughtful pauses where a silence spoke volumes.

You began to wonder if he felt the same magnetic pull you were experiencing. In those fleeting glances, you saw a flash of something—curiosity, longing—as if both of you were teetering on the edge of discovery.

Finally, as the game progressed toward the final question, Sarah interrupted with an excited sway. “Alright, I think we’re done for now! This video is definitely going to be a hit.”

You glanced at Max, who still wore that boyish grin—his energy infectious as he reveled in the laughter circulating around the room.

But deeper than that, you felt a weight pressing on your heart, urging you to say something more.

“Hey, Max, can I ask you something?” you called out, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions threatening to spill over.

“Sure, what’s on your mind?” He looked at you with genuine curiosity, and for a brief moment, it felt as though you were in a bubble, shut away from everyone else.

“About our chemistry—does it mean anything to you?” The question hung in the air like a transmitted spark, and you could see his expression turn serious, the lightness shifting into something deeper.

He took a moment, weighing your words. “Ever since we started being friends, it’s been… different. Fun, but something more,” he admitted, the sincerity in his voice resonating through you.

Your heart soared. Max was just as captivated by your chemistry as you were. It was as if some invisible thread had tethered you both, pulling you closer together.

With a casual flip of his cap back to forward, Max held your gaze. The laughter faded, and there you stood, surrounded by the energy of the Red Bull Racing headquarters, but your world had narrowed down to this single moment.

You felt the magnetic connection evolve into something tangible, something real that could break the barriers between colleagues and something much deeper—a thrilling journey ahead sparked by an unexpected electric tension. . . .

You glided down the hallway, adrenaline and excitement coursing through your veins. This was no ordinary night; in an unexpected twist, Max had chosen you to accompany him to an exclusive F1 gala.

You had always seen him as more than just a friend, but the tension between you had never been openly addressed—until now.

The door to the living room gave way, revealing Max perched comfortably on the sofa, his classic black tuxedo accentuating the chiselled lines of his physique. His tousled dark hair was slicked back, emphasizing the sharp angles of his jaw.

You couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked. But when he turned to face you, his expression changed from admiration to sheer shock.

“How do I look?” you asked playfully, knowing full well that the dress you wore clung to your curves in just the right way.

Lifting the last of your earrings into place, you caught his gaze, lingering far too long on your neckline.

Max’s mouth fell slightly open, and he stammered, “I-uh- You look— You look great.”

His eyes seemed glued to your chest, and you smirked at him, shaking your head. “Yeah, okay, let’s keep our thoughts innocent,” you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

He blinked rapidly, as if waking from a trance, and his cheeks tinged with a light shade of crimson. “Right. Innocent. Of course.” His voice dropped an octave, trying to regain composure.

“You look—really beautiful. I mean, not that you don’t always…”

You laughed softly, enjoying the fluster you’d caused in the usually confident driver. “Thanks, Max. You clean up pretty well yourself.”

He stood up, adjusting the lapels of his tux and shooting you a half-welcoming smile. “Ready to go? I think I’m about to break a world record for the longest time spent staring without saying anything coherent.”

“Let’s get out of here before you break any more records,” you replied, grabbing your clutch and heading toward the door.

The gala was being held at a splendid venue in Monaco, the ambiance glowing with extravagance. The soft sounds of classical music floated through the air as you and Max made your way inside, adorned in gold and silver decorations.

It felt surreal, the elegance around you contrasting sharply with the adrenaline-fueled world of racing that was Max’s daily routine.

As you entered, the murmurs of guests turned into a wave of excitement. “Max! Over here!” A handful of fans spotted him, rushing forward with cameras and excited whispers.

You watched as he interacted with them effortlessly, signing autographs and posing for pictures. A wave of pride washed over you; he was not just a friend but a superstar—one of the best drivers in the world.

After several moments of mingling with his fans, he returned to your side, breathless from the attention.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” he said, his voice now lowered to an almost intimate whisper. “It’s... a lot sometimes.”

You offered him a warm smile, knowing how taxing the spotlight could be. “It’s nice to see you outside of the track. You can actually relax for once.”

With that notion in mind, he later led you to the bar, where you both ordered drinks—Max preferring a classic whiskey while you chose a sparkling signature cocktail adorned with fresh fruit.

As you sipped your second drink, you turned to him. “So, any secret dreams for the season?”

Max leaned back against the bar, an amused smile stretching across his face. “Well, aside from winning, I might want to one-up my last season’s record. Or maybe…”

He paused dramatically, “I was hoping for a podium finish on our next outing in Italy. It’s always been a special place for me.”

“Why is that? The food, the scenery?” you queried, genuinely curious.

“It’s got the perfect blend of everything. The passion, the fans... And the tire placements at Monza are—well, they’re quite thrilling,” he explained, his enthusiasm evident.

You listened, fascinated by his love for the sport and the intricacies he shared. “I can see why you love it so much,” you replied, “It’s like an art form...”

“Exactly!” His eyes sparked with enthusiasm. “And speaking of art, I could hardly choose an artwork more stunning than you tonight.”

Feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, you chuckled softly. “Smooth, Max. Just remember, I’m not a trophy to be won.”

“More like a prize, then,” he shot back, his grinning eyes glinting in the light.

After what felt like a whirl of conversations and laughter, you noticed the transition in the evening. As Max caught your gaze, he spoke softly, “Say, would you like to dance?”

You hesitated for a moment, caught off-guard. “Dance? I’m not even sure I know how to—”

“You know how to sway, don’t you?” he teased, offering his hand. “Just follow my lead.”

The two of you shifted onto the dance floor, surrounded by elegantly dressed couples twirling and gliding with grace. The music faded into an intoxicating sound that seemed to pull you both closer together.

His hand found the small of your back, guiding you smoothly.

“What do you think?” he whispered in your ear as you found your rhythm. “Not so bad, is it?”

“Not bad at all,” you replied, heart racing as you shared his space. The warmth from his body enveloped you, grounding you.

Eventually, the song slowed, and as you swayed in closer, you could feel the heat radiating between you. It was a different rhythm now, one that echoed the unspoken tension of your friendship.

You felt his breath hitch as he leaned closer, inhaling softly.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked, his voice earnest.

“Yeah?” You searched his face, and the way his eyes flickered with vulnerability sent a shiver down your spine.

“I’m glad I chose you to come with me tonight,” he admitted, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re not just a date; you’re... you’re everything.”

You felt your heart skip a beat. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I care about you. More than just a friend,” he confessed, the courage of his words electrifying.

And there it was, laid bare before you in the most romantic of settings.

“Max, I feel the same.”

His gaze held yours, vulnerability mixing with unfettered joy. The music around you faded, but the world felt suspended in time, just the two of you wrapped in honesty.

He took a breath, then leaned down, brushing his lips softly against yours, tentative at first. You melted into the kiss, feeling like the most cherished person in the room.

The night had transformed into something truly unforgettable, and you knew that this moment was the beginning of something beautiful.

You wake up to the insistent buzzing of your phone beside you on the bedside table. Light streams through the curtains, illuminating the chaos of your living room, remnants from the night before—glasses, laughter, and the unmistakable scent of champagne.

You try to ignore the phone, but the buzzing doesn’t stop, and neither does the nauseating flutter of anxiety in your stomach.

“Who is it?” you murmur to yourself, glancing at the screen. Max’s name flashes back at you, and your heart races. Memories come flooding back. The party. The laughter.

His lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that made everything else in the room melt away. The kiss—a moment suspended in time, etched forever into your mind.

But then everything changed. The kiss had been captured, and going viral made it feel all too public. You had fallen for him—hard—but now the weight of that kiss felt like a betrayal.

You were terrified it would affect his career, and yet, what happened was beautiful. You cannot reconcile the two.

“God, what have I done?” You bury your face in your hands as shame washes over you. The thought of what the public would say twists like a knife in your heart.

You pick up your phone and stare at it, the guilt tightening its grip on your throat. You tell yourself you should call Max, but what would you even say?

You can’t shake the feeling that you’ve ruined everything. You let it ring through to voicemail, your thumb hovering over the disconnect button.

“Hey, it’s Max Verstappen. I’m probably busy right now, but please leave a message.” His cheerful voice rings out, and you hear the tremor of hope in it.

You feel like you might cry, but you can’t give in. Not now. You drop the phone back onto the table, letting out a shaky breath.

A few hours later, you finally get out of bed and make yourself a cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine will steady your nerves. On impulse, you switch on your laptop.

The first thing you see is a headline blaring from every angle: Max and Y/N: The Viral Kiss That Broke the Internet. Your heart sinks further. This was surreal and terrifying all at once.

“Incredible,” you mutter under your breath, rolling your eyes. You want to escape from it all. In that moment, the coffee tastes bitter.

Later that afternoon, you’re stirring the milk when your phone lights up again. It’s Max. You feel a rush of warmth mixed with dread.

You hesitate, fingers trembling as you stare at his name. Finally, you press the button, willing yourself to answer.

“Hello?” his voice is light, almost cheerful, and you can hear how easy it is for him to smile despite the chaos surrounding both of you.

“Max,” you manage, voice shaky. “We need to talk.”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end. “Are you okay?” His concern is palpable. “What’s wrong?”

You take a deep breath. “About last night… the kiss… the cameras… I can't help but feel like I’ve ruined your career somehow. We’re all over the media, Max! What if it affects your races? Your reputation?”

“Whoa, whoa,” he interjects, clearly caught off guard. “You didn’t ruin anything. Trust me. In fact, I’m glad it happened. I wanted people to know how I feel.”

“How can you be so relaxed about this?” you manage, frustration creeping in. “You’re an F1 driver. Your image matters.”

“Yeah, but my heart matters more,” he replies, and there's an unmistakable intensity in his tone. “You matter more.”

“Max, what do you mean?” Your heart skips a beat. Those words run like electricity through you.

“You and me… last night was amazing—life-changing, actually. I’ve been wanting to be with you for a long time, and it finally happened.” He chuckles softly, the sound bringing a small smile to your lips.

“All the media chatter is just noise. I'm happy people see how I feel about you.”

“You don’t understand. They’ll twist it. They’ll make it sound like you’re just some guy who kisses his fans! This isn’t a good look!”

“Listen,” he says firmly. “If they want to spin it that way, let them. But I know the truth, and so do you. I didn’t kiss a fan; I kissed the person I care about the most. That’s you, and nothing anyone says will change that.”

You feel like you could cry. Max’s words are a balm for your frayed nerves. But still, the doubt claws at you. “What if it backfires? What if it affects your team’s performance?”

“It won’t,” he insists, voice lighter now. “I thrive on pressure. Trust me; if I can drive a Formula 1 car at 200 miles an hour, I can manage whatever they throw at me. More importantly, it’s you I want in my life. Can you at least think about that?”

The sincerity in his voice is undeniable. You take a moment, letting it seep in. “I just… I don’t want to be the reason you face backlash.”

“Only if you don’t call back,” he says, teasing you gently. “But seriously, let’s enjoy this. Go out with me, just once, without worrying about the cameras.”

“I don’t even know how the press will react,” you sigh.

“Then surprise them. Pick a restaurant, and I’ll be there.”

You can feel your heart racing as you mull it over, but deep down, something beautiful stirs—a possibility, a spark. You could face the chaos together.

Finally, you admit, “Okay, then. Tomorrow, let’s go to that Italian place we love. But just a warning: I’m not putting on a show for anyone.”

“Perfect. Just you, me, and pasta,” he chuckles, and you can’t help but laugh, feeling the tension ease a little.

As you hang up, you stare out the window, meeting your own gaze in the reflection.

The episode before you has unsettled you, but perhaps, just perhaps, you and Max are writing the first chapter of something profound—something that even the world beyond the two of you could never fully understand.

Your heart swells with anticipation for what lies ahead. . . .

The soft glow of the late afternoon sun filtered through the curtains of your room, casting playful patterns on the floor as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your heart raced with excitement and nerves as you brushed the last strokes of mascara on your lashes.

You wanted to look your best, not just for yourself, but for Max. After the viral moment that had your names splashed across every social media feed, meeting up felt like stepping into a whirlwind you couldn’t escape, nor did you want to.

“You look amazing!” your best friend Mia said, planting herself on your bed, her phone in hand. “That dress is perfect for you!”

You twirled in front of the mirror, the fabric swirling around your legs. “Do you think he’ll even notice?” you laughed nervously, trying to inject levity into the situation.

“Are you kidding? Max will definitely notice. He’s been on cloud nine since that kiss!” Mia replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I mean, who wouldn’t be a little distracted by the thought of a girl like you?”

Just then, the sound of your phone buzzing stole your attention. You rushed over, your heart leaping when you saw Max’s name.

“Hey!” you said, trying to contain your excitement.

“Hey!” he replied, his voice warm and a little nervous. “I’m outside. Ready to go?”

“Yeah, just give me a second!” you hurried to grab your jacket and purse, glancing at Mia over your shoulder. She gave you a thumbs-up and a grin before you dashed down the stairs and out the door.

Max stood leaning against his car, looking effortlessly handsome in a fitted navy shirt and jeans that accentuated his athletic figure. His hair was slightly tousled, the sun catching the glint in his blue eyes as he turned to you.

“Wow,” he said, his smile widening. “You look incredible.”

“Thanks! You don’t look too bad yourself,” you replied, trying to act cool while your cheeks heated up.

“Ready for our big adventure?” he asked, opening the car door for you.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied with a laugh, settling into the passenger seat.

Max drove in a comfortable silence for a while, the radio playing softly in the background as you occasionally glanced at one another, the tension palpable yet exciting. Eventually, you broke the silence.

“So, about that kiss…” you began, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

Max chuckled, a little shyly, “You mean the one that broke the internet?”

“Yeah, that one! Do you think… I mean, how do you feel about it?” you asked, your heart pounding in your chest.

He glanced at you, his expression serious yet playful. “Honestly? I’m still pinching myself. I didn’t expect to get carried away like that, but when I saw you, it was like everything else faded away.”

“Same here,” you admitted, your gaze locked onto his profile, trying to decipher his thoughts. “But now the whole world knows, and that’s a little overwhelming.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I get that. I wasn’t ready for the headlines either. But I kind of love that we’re doing this together, even if people are watching.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with the attention?” you asked, concern flickering across your features. “I mean, we didn’t even talk about what this means.”

Max reached over and placed his hand on yours, sending a warm jolt through your arm. “I’m okay with it because it’s you. I like you, and I want to see where this can go, with all the chaos around us.”

You smiled, your heart swelling at his words. “You really mean that?”

“Absolutely,” he said with a sincerity that made your breath catch. “So, how about we forget about the cameras and just enjoy our time together?”

Nodding eagerly, you felt a surge of relief wash over you. “I’d like that.”

You spent the afternoon at a quaint café downtown, the hum of conversation and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee setting a cozy atmosphere. You shared stories over pastries, laughter ringing between you both as you learned more about one another.

“Okay, your turn,” you said after Max revealed his embarrassing childhood nickname. “What’s your biggest fear?”

Max took a moment to think, a slight furrow spreading across his brow. “Honestly? Losing the people I care about. Being a driver means that you travel a lot which means you lose friends quickly.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, feeling a rush of empathy.

“It’s alright,” he said quickly, lifting his gaze to meet yours. “It taught me to value the people in my life even more. I guess that’s why I feel so lucky to have met you.”

Your heart fluttered as he leaned in slightly, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “Also, I’m terrified of clowns.”

You burst into laughter, the tension from earlier melting away. “Oh come on! You can’t be serious.”

“I am! They’re just so unpredictable,” he insisted, his expression mock-stern. “One minute they’re juggling, and the next, they’re doing who knows what.”

You continued to share stories and tease each other, the world beyond the restaurant fading away. It wasn’t until you stepped out into the warm evening that you realized just how much you enjoyed his company.

“Wanna take a walk?” Max suggested, his hand naturally finding yours.

“I’d love to,” you replied, intertwining your fingers with his while you strolled through the twinkling lights of the downtown streets.

As you walked, the conversation flowed easily, your laughter mingling with the warm evening breeze. With every passing moment, the nervousness that had initially gripped you dissipated, replaced by a growing affection.

Then, as you rounded a quieter corner near the park, Max paused, turning to face me. The city lights danced in his eyes, and the warmth between you two was undeniable.

“Can I—” he hesitated, his gaze searching yours, “Can I kiss you again?”

You nodded, your heart fluttering wildly. “Definitely.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours, igniting a flurry of butterflies in your stomach. This kiss was different, deeper, and more meaningful than the last—an unspoken promise of what was to come.

You pulled away, and you laughed breathlessly, trying to catch your breath.

“You know, if this goes viral too, at least it’ll be a better story,” Max teased, a charming smile spreading across his face.

“Let them talk!” you giggled, feeling a wave of confidence wash over you. “As long as it’s with you, I’m in.”

“Good,” he replied, his expression sincere. “Because I think we’re just getting started.”

With that, hand in hand, you continued your stroll, the world around you two fading into a beautiful blur as you embraced the adventure that lay ahead—together.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the paddock. You and Max walked hand in hand, the sensation both electrifying and soothing.

The world had made a spectacle of your private moment, and now, as you stepped into the paddock, everyone watched, their eyes glimmering with curiosity and amusement.

“Why do you have to look at me like that? It’s making me weak, please stop,” you said, your voice a soft murmur as you caught his gaze.

His eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was something deeper—an unspoken promise that made your heart race.

Max chuckled, a warm laugh that seemed to drown out the chatter of the surrounding crowd. “Look at you, though. How can I not? You’re stunning today,” he said, his fingers gently squeezing yours.

He was always so effortless, a confidence that could light up a room, and now he was casting that glow on you.

You blushed slightly, trying to suppress a smile. “You know that’s not fair. You always know what to say to make me squirm,” you replied playfully, a hint of teasing in your voice.

“I’m just being honest,” he replied, turning serious for a moment. “You have to know how lucky I feel. I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone.

The sincerity in his words made you feel exposed, yet cherished.

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at the compliment. “Lucky, huh? You’re the one racing in the fastest cars in the world. I’m just here, taking selfies and trying not to trip over all the cables.”

He squeezed your hand, a reassuring gesture that made you feel as if the two of you were in your own little world, separate from the high-octane chaos surrounding you. “Nah, the real race is in my heart. And you’ve won it.”

“Smooth talker,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully, though your heart fluttered at his words. “Just wait until you end up on the podium again; you’ll be too busy celebrating to remember little ol’ me.”

“Not a chance,” he replied, his voice filled with conviction. “You know I’d dedicate every race to you if I could. Last time on the podium—remember? I pointed to you. That was for you.”

“Yeah, I remember,” you said, your smile wide. “You were practically glowing. It was such an amazing moment.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt happier,” Max said, a serious tone creeping into his voice. “Every time I look at you, I get reminded of what really matters.”

“Okay, now you’re going to make me cry,” you joked, but there was a hint of sincerity in your tone. “Don’t ruin my makeup, please!”

Max laughed, the sound warm and infectious. “I promise, I won’t deliberately make you cry. But you are basically my good luck charm. You have to come to every race now.”

“Deal. But I get to pick the after-party spots,” you replied, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Who said I was going to take you to an after-party? I might want to just take you home and cook you dinner.”

“Cook? You?” You laughed. “I thought you’d just rely on takeout after the races.”

“I can surprise you,” he said with a smirk. “Besides, there’s something nice about a home-cooked meal. Wouldn’t you want to try my pasta? I’ve perfected it over the years.”

“Fine, but it better not be like the time you tried to make pancakes and turned them into a science experiment,” you shot back, remembering the sticky disaster that had resulted in laughter and flour-coated walls.

“Hey! That was one time. I’m much better now,” he insisted, pretending to be offended. But the twinkle in his eyes told you he was just teasing.

As you walked past the team garages, you noticed the crew setting up for the next race, and the adrenaline of the environment pulsed through you. “Max, look at all of this hustle and bustle. Doesn’t it make your heart race?”

He nodded, his expression serious now as he gazed at the busy scene. “Definitely. It’s the thrill of competition—everyone’s working hard for one goal. But to me, nothing compares to this moment with you.”

Your heart swelled at his words. “You really know how to make a girl feel special, don’t you?”

“I try my best,” he admitted, a playful grin returning. “But honestly, you inspire me to push harder, to be better. I want to win races, not just for myself, but for you.”

“Max, that’s so sweet. Just promise me you won’t risk it all out there. I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to you.”

His expression softened, and he brought your hands to his lips, kissing them gently. “I promise. I’ll always be careful. You and I have a lifetime of moments to create together, and I won’t let anything take that away.”

You both stood there for a moment, the noise of the paddock fading into the background as you simply enjoyed each other’s company. The world around you became a blur, and it felt as if time stood still.

“Alright, what’s next on our agenda?” Max asked, breaking the spell of the moment.

You glanced around thoughtfully. “How about we grab a bite to eat? I’m starving.”

“Perfect! I know this great place just down the road. And after that, I’ll show you my secret hiding spot in the paddock where I keep my trophies,” he said, winking at you.

“Trophies and secrets? You really do know how to woo a girl,” you replied, playfully nudging him as you both started walking toward the exit.

“Oh, I’ve got plenty more up my sleeve,” he said confidently, pulling you closer as you stepped into the evening light, hand in hand, ready to face whatever adventures were ahead. "You are my priority after all,"

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