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ytsunodabrainrotbaybee · 3 months

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After sleeping, I can confidently say:

Yuki divebombing Daniel, while funny, was not good. I am a Tsunoda truther, however I don’t want him doing anything that could hurt himself. I understand the frustration, but don’t be reckless enough to put yourself in danger.

If they had switched them earlier, and Daniel actually did pass Magnussen, I wouldn’t have a problem. I’d be sad, but it is what it is.

They were acting like Yuki was screaming at them through the radio, talking about how loud he was being. Not even. He was loud, sure, but he wasn’t screaming like that, yall commentators are soft.

Daniel’s fans need to shut up.

#Daniel fans dni #anti ricciardo #anti daniel ricciardo #Yuki Tsunoda my love #don’t hurt yourself

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captain-harpo · 1 year

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daniel radcliffe is so fun to watch he moves like a little rat prince

#this is a weird al movie and miracle workers post #hp fans dni #manlet number 1 in the world #daniel radcliffe #captain's log #miracle workers #weird al movie

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fxrmuladaydreams · 5 months

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austrailian kisses (sv5) (dr3)

pornstar!seb x reader , pornstar!daniel x reader

summary: you take seb’s advice to broaden your horizons and spend some time with his austrailian friend

notes: this may be the filthiest thing i’ve ever written.

warnings: !! CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI !! bondage, oral (f receiving), sex toys (vibrator), overstimulation

prev part next part

You were hesitant to text Daniel. How were you meant to go about this? Should you just come out with it and ask to collaborate with him? He did say he was a fan, but he just being nice?

You swallow your nerves and shoot him a text saying hello and introducing yourself.

To Daniel

Hey Daniel, it’s Y/n, the girl that Sebastian was filming with last week. He gave me your phone number so that I could message you.

I was wondering if you wanted to try to film something together? If not, I get it. It was nice meeting you the other day.

You throw your phone to the other side of your bed and bury your face in your hands. How was Sebastian able to be so confident when he asked you to collaborate?

A few minutes later your phone buzzes, the screen lighting up with a notification.

From Daniel

Hey Y/n, of course I remember you, I wasn’t lying when I said I was a fan. I’d love to work on something with you.

You let out a breath then text him back, making plans to meet in person.

You felt odd, waiting for Daniel at a cafe. Your mind flashed back to the nerves you had when meeting Sebastian for the first time, how he was effortlessly charming, and so easy to fall for. You shake the thoughts out of your head. You’re doing this to move on, to forget about Sebastian.

Daniel comes in wearing a cream colored hoodie with jeans, and a baseball cap over his head. He grins when he sees you. You reach a hand out to shake his, he grabs it pulling you into a hug.

He’s got a smile plastered on his face, and his eyes are bright and warm. He pays for your drink and a few pastries for you to share, scoffing when you try to pull your own wallet out to pay.

“Don’t even try it sweetheart.” He smiles, handing the cashier his card.

Daniel is different than you thought he’d be. He’s always so controlling and commanding in his videos, but in person he’s all smiles and soft touches. He’s sunshine personified.

“Have you seen my stuff?” He asks when there’s a break in the conversation. “I watched your videos with Seb, and I feel like I should tell you I’m a lot more… dominant… than he is.”

You feel a thrill run through you at his words. “I’ve seen your videos.” You nod. “But I want that. I want what Sebastian couldn’t give me.” You ignore the double meaning in your words.

Daniel smirks. “Alright then sweetheart.”

You make plans to go back to the studio to film the next day. You feel odd getting ready. Knowing that soon someone will start knocking on your door, but it won’t be the blonde German you’ve grown accustomed to.

You scold yourself for hoping to see Sebastian when you do hear knocking, and feel a little disappointed when you see Daniel standing at your door.

“Ready to go?” He asks.

You nod, walking with him to his car. The ride is silent. You spend a good portion of it staring out the window, while Daniel keeps glancing over at you.

He sighs. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. It won’t hurt my feelings or anything.”

“No, no, I want to.” You reassure him.

“If you ever feel uncomfortable, remember the safe word. We’ll stop immediately, no questions asked.” He reminds you.

He helps you out of his car, and guides you inside with a hand on the small of your back. You feel your heart sink when he takes you to the room you had filmed Sebastian’s video in.

He looks down at you as he feels you tense up next to him. “Is this okay? We can go somewhere else if you want-”

“No. It’s fine.” You cut him off. “Let’s set up your camera.”

He gives you a hesitant nod, pulling out his camera and tripod from his bag.

“Alright, let’s get started.” You say once he’s finished setting up.

Daniel can tell something is off. You seem uncomfortable in this room, so he decides to try to use his charm to lighten the mood.

“Have you ever had an Australian kiss before?” He asks.

“What’s an Australian kiss?”

“It’s like a French kiss, but it’s down under.” He smirks as you feel your face warm up.

He pulls you clothes off of you, letting his hands wander each new expanse of skin that’s revealed. He takes your arms carefully to tie them up behind you. He tugs on the restraints, then lays you down, checking to make sure you’re still comfortable. He plays with your breasts before moving down to rest between your legs. He pulls them apart and softly strokes your folds.

“Look at how pretty you are.” He softly presses his thumb against your clit, pulling a gasp from you. “You’re so sensitive, aren’t you bunny?”

You feel a pain in your chest at the nickname, the one given to you by Sebastian, now being used by Daniel, but that’s quickly forgotten when you feel his finger slowly push inside you. You moan, lifting your hips up at the intrusion.

“Aww, such a needy little thing.” Daniel murmurs as he starts to curl his finger inside you. He pushes a second one inside you, his thick digits spreading you open further for him.

He stills his fingers in you, and smirks when you whine. “I know bunny, so desperate to get fucked? Why don’t you fuck yourself on my fingers.” He coos.

You rock your hips against his hand, hands gripping the bedsheets under you. You falter when his palm brushes against your clit, slowing the rhythm you created.

“You can’t get yourself off, can you? Do you need me to help you cum?”

“Yes, please!” You whine.

“I don’t believe you bunny. Beg me.”

You plead with him, your words falling out of your mouth quickly, desperate for him to make you cum.

He curls his fingers again once he’s satisfied, now fucking you roughly with them. He leans down and takes your clit in his mouth, rolling it against his tongue.

He feels you clench around his fingers and pulls himself away from your clit. “You’re so tight bunny, are you ready to cum?”

You nod quickly. “Yes, please make me cum, please!”

He takes your clit back in his mouth, sucking on it harshly. You feel yourself practically thrown over the edge as your orgasm hits you.

Daniel pulls his fingers out of you, replacing them with his tongue. He takes everything you give him, slurping obscenely from your cunt.

Just as you feel yourself start to come down from your high, he pushes his tongue back inside you. You let out a loud moan that turns into a whine as you feel his nose brush against your clit.

“C’mon bunny, you were just begging me to make you cum a second ago, isn’t this what you want?” He doesn’t wait for your response before he throws your legs over his shoulders and buries his face between them again.

He moans against your core, and looks up at you. “You taste delicious bunny.”

You feel a second orgasm quickly approaching, and before you can warn Daniel, you feel yourself release on his tongue.

Daniel licks up your cum, but pulls away shaking his head.

“Did I tell you that you could cum?” He asks. When you don’t answer, mind still a little fuzzy from your climax, he lands a sharp slap to your clit.

You yelp, attempting to pull your hips away from him.

“Don’t try and run away. I asked you a question bunny. Did I say you could cum?” He stands up now, practically towering over you.

“No, you didn’t.” You say, your eyes welling up with tears.

“Then I think I need to punish you. Turn you back into a good little bunny.” He says.

He steps away, leaving you wiggling around on the bed. You close your legs, feeling your release spread over your thighs.

When he comes back he holds a black vibrator in one hand, and tape in the other. He rests the toy against your thigh, making sure the head presses against your clit. He tapes it to you, making sure it’s secure.

“Remember the safe word?” He whispers in your ear.

“Yes Daniel.” You whisper back.

He nods before turning it on to the lowest setting.

You whine, twisting your hips around in an attempt to move away from the vibrations.

“You wanted to cum so bad, so now you’re going to cum until I’m finished watching you.” Daniel moves behind the camera, watching you through the viewfinder.

You lose count of how many orgasms you have, you mind far too cloudy to keep track. With every one Daniel walks back over to you and turns the vibrator up one setting, until it’s buzzing is arguably just as loud as your moans.

“I can’t- I can’t! No more, please!” You thrash, feeling a mix of pleasure and pain between your legs.

“C’mon bunny, give me one more good one, and I’ll stop it.” Daniel coaxes.

He doesn’t have to wait long for your past orgasm to shoot through you, your vision almost blackening out.

Daniel reaches out to turn the vibrator off, then pulls the camera off the tripod and walking over to you. He pulls your legs apart to show the camera the mess you’ve made, then pans it up to see your face. You struggle to keep your eyes open, you’ve got a sheen of sweat over your body, and your hair lays in a mess around your head.

Daniel softly strokes your cheek, smiling when you lean into his touch. “You were so good for me, my good little bunny.”

You flush at his praise, and give the camera a lazy smile.

He shuts the camera off, then gently lifts you to sit up. He leans you against his chest as he reaches behind you to untie your hands. Next he softly pulls the tape and vibrator off your leg.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I sweetheart?” He asks, the smiley soft Daniel back immediately.

You shake your head. “No, that was so much fun.” You turn to get up, wincing at the feeling between your legs.

“Here.” Daniel grabs a towel, wiping off your legs.

He helps you stand up, you lean against him for balance, your legs shaking like a newborn deer.

“I’ve got you.” He says as he helps you get dressed.

You walk back to his car with his arm around your waist, whether it’s to help your balance or just affection after your previous activities you don’t know, but you have to admit to yourself that it does feel nice.

He keeps chatting with you in the car in an attempt to keep you awake and aware. You furrow your brows when he passes your home.

“Daniel, where are we going?”

“I’m going to take you to get some food sweetheart.” He says as if it’s obvious.

He parks his car outside an old looking diner. He rushes over to your side to open the door for you, and again wraps an arm around your waist.

“Get ready for the best meal of your life.”

He guides you inside, greeting a few of the workers as he walks over to a small table in the corner and pulls out a chair for you.

“Hello Daniel, and who is this pretty little thing you brought with you?” An older woman asks as she places menus down for you.

Daniel answers her question before you can. “This is Y/n. Y/n, this is Dorothy.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you Miss Y/n, I hope Daniel is treating you well?” She raises her brows at you.

You laugh and nod. “Yes, he’s been very sweet.”

“I’m glad, you know he’s never actually brought a girl here with him before.” She winks at you.

“Dorothy!” He exclaims, his cheeks now tinted a soft pink.

“Alright, alright, I’ll be back in a few to take your order.” She smiles as she leaves.

You smile over at Daniel. “So you don’t bring all the girls you film with here?”

He can’t hide his smile as he shakes his head. “Only the ones I really like.”

You wince but laugh at his answer.

“No, I’m sorry, that was bad.” He laughs with you.

“It was. But it was cute.” You tell him as you look down at your menu.

Daniel grins looking down at his.

You spend your meal laughing with Daniel, well more with Dorothy telling you stories about the Australian sitting across from you, as Daniel tries to get your focus back on him by reaching over the table to interlock your fingers with his.

He pays for your meal once again, claiming that your money was no good here, then walks you back to his car.

The night has brought a cool breeze with it, creating goosebumps across your bare arms. Daniel feels you shiver beside him, and whips off his hoodie. He pulls it down over you before you can protest.

The drive back to your home is filled with silence once again, but this time it’s a comfortable silence. Daniel’s music plays softly in the background, you can occasionally hear him humming softly.

You feel a sense of calm wash over you, being wrapped up in Daniel’s hoodie. His hand rests against your thigh, his thumb brushing soft circles against it.

So, this is what it feels like to be wanted? It feels nice. You think to yourself as you watch the streetlights pass by.

#sebastian vettel x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #formula one x reader

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mickyschumacher · 5 months

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𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: they say you should learn something new every day. in oscar's case, he learns he should really read the fine prints. or in which oscar's secret santa gift comes into use.

𝐖𝐀𝐑��𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), protected sex (for the 1st time ever here) childhood lovers (bc oscar IS this trope), face sitting/riding + consent, p in v, teasing, oral sex, mutual orgasms, (over)consumption of aphrodisiacs, mentions of spiders :(

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: oscar piastri x gf!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: as usual, proofread-ish. for the majority who thought aphrodisiacs and oscar sounded good... hope you like it! ♡︎

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

Summer cleaning. You did it every January with Oscar when he came back home to Australia. The reasons you did it? Well, it gave you some peace and the pure free time you had with Oscar was limited. It didn't sound that fun but every year, you managed to make the most of it by reminiscing all the old memories you made, the past year or long ago. The bonus side: you kept things clean!

Last January you had both found an old scrapbook of Oscar and you that you had poorly made with the glue sticks that bare stuck no matter how much you slathered onto the paper, various croppings of coloured paper, loose glitter that hung on by a thread, and the cheapest driest markers you had found (you both thought you took them from primary school).

As horrifically it was made, it was sweet, sending you back down memory lane. The part that made the best was the secret confession in the back of it Oscar had written down with his god-awful six-year-old handwriting. Upon seeing 'really' spelt 'rallllly' and 'pretty' as 'pritty', it was safe to say, Oscar rushed to put the book back as quickly as you found it.

"Babe... what happen to cleaning?" Oscar queried, hand resting on the top of step ladder with raised brows as he looked down at you on the floor. He was moving around the books you stored at the top shelf of

You were sprawled on the floor, relishing the cool breeze the fan brought you. "It's 30 degrees, bro. What do you want me to do? I'm tired. The air outside is warm. It's gross," You complained, feeling your skin stick to the floorboards.

Oscar narrowed his eyes at your words, taking careful steps down the ladder now. "First of all, don't ever call me 'bro' again. Because that's fucking gross," He told you, taking your hand and pulling you up from the floor. "Secondly, you are sugar crashing. We probably should've had lunch an hour or so ago."

You pouted at the sound of sugar, slumping against Oscar's shoulder. "Why are we doing this?" You groaned.

Oscar chuckled, holding you tighter against him. "We're doing this so you don't call me in a few weeks and scream about spiders popping up everywhere."

You curled your lip in annoyance, pushing yourself off of him. "You suck," You retorted, walking over to your fridge. You took a moment to savour the cold air radiating from it as you opened the door before searching for something cold to eat. Your heart deflated at the mostly empty fridge. You hadn't been able to go shopping because everyone was either closed or had close early. You didn't even have any ice cream! The sheer audacity...

Your eyes flickered over your options before a red box caught your eye. You gasped, taking out the container and dangling it in front of Oscar. "We still need to finish these!"

Oscar turned his head towards you, recognising the red box quickly. It was part of the pack of sweets Daniel had given him for Secret Santa last year. To be honest, Oscar didn't have that much of sweet tooth. At least, he had nothing on you. He knew the moment he got it, it was going into his suitcase with prayers that it didn't melt in the Oceanic heat during transit.

While spending Christmas with your families, you, his sisters, and Oscar (mostly you) had taken the liberty to consume most of the candy. By the time you had eaten all the candy canes and small bits, the sight of the mere red box of chocolates made all of you feel sick. So you put it inside your fridge, saving it for some other desperate time. And said desperate time had soon come around in early January during your summer cleaning.

While Oscar would've preferred actual food to eat, he too was at his wits ends. When he nodded, he watched you excitedly come towards him as if you were preparing for your sugar rush.

You sat next to him, knee-to-knee. Opening the box without thinking too much, you both began eating the variety of chocolates. They were in various shades of brown and white, topped of with edible glitter or other candy. You were more than halfway through the box before you wondered what the different flavours were. You popped another into your mouth before closing the box to turn to it's back.

Raspberry... hazelnut... cinnamon.... maca root... epimedium?

Wait what?

"Oh fuck." You heard Oscar whisper.

You raised a brow, lowering the box, still finishing the piece in your mouth. "What's wrong?"

Oscar winced, sucking in a sharp breath before turning the front of the box to you, index finger pointing at the fine print underneath the brand's name.

APHRODISIAC CHOCOLATES.

Effects dependent on the amount eaten and the person. Eat at your own risk.

Your eyes widened, hand almost dropping the box. "Oscar... there's like three left."

Oscar's mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. He pondered the gift. No wonder Daniel was smiling so weirdly at him after he received his gift. That plus his incessant texting, asking whether he had finished all the candy. Shit...

A nervous laugh fell from Oscar's lips as his ears turned red. "I mean... it won't work, right? Surely... this is a scam... a gimmick?"

Your mouth was dry. "Let's check online, hmm?" You told him, taking out your phone. Oscar shuffled closer next you, eyeing the screen cautiously. Typing the product name into the search bar, you felt your cheeks become hot once the results came pouring in.

The best chocolates for sex in 2023!

Horny chocolates for horny lovers. See our favourites!

Viral aphrodisiac chocolates reviewed to be really good.

You pressed your lips, clicking on the last link. Your eyes skimmed the page. You could hear Oscar read the reviews, voice getting louder with every passing second. "Was unsure but no regrets... Bedroom was on fire.. more than... t-three rounds?! Be careful how many you consume... effects stronger with more consumption.... lasts up to three hours?!"

You laughed awkwardly. "S-Surely not. I'm mean not that it's terrible but we still have cleaning to do. I'm sure these are fake reviews... you know like to disguise drop shipping." It was a poor excuse slipping from the likes of your mouth but it was an excuse nonetheless.

Oscar nodded slowly. "Right... cleaning! Yes, that's... that's it! We should probably do that," He told you taking the box out of your hands and putting it to the side.

You and Oscar weren't necessarily awkward or shy about sex. You communicated perfectly well. But the concept of eating aphrodisiac chocolates that were given by his co-worker much less a fellow Australian definitely sent the both of you down the lane of uncertainty.

To be honest, you weren't feeling anything anyways... yet.

Together, the both of you had managed to get all the cleaning done. The thought of the chocolates were long gone after you had multiple Daddy Long Legs come out of the attic, half scaring you to death and sending Oscar into a fit of laughter (although he wouldn't admit he was terrified for a brief second).

Having enough and thrilled you were finished, you were both down to take a nap in your bedroom with all the doors closed and the aircon on blast.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Your nap was going great. It was so good you were sure the red lines of your sheets were embedded into your skin. You were dreaming... it was hot and sticky, it was in the shower for a second and the beach the next and Oscar's hands were all over you.

But all goods things must come to an end.

Especially if it means waking up in Oscar's arms, ass pressed against his hard cock and his hips rutting against you.

With sleepy eyes, you tilted your head to capture a glimpse of Oscar who looked wide awake with a sheen of sweat covering his face. His arms around you tightened when he met your eyes. You furrowed your brows. "Os.. did you not sleep?"

A strained sigh fell from his lips, releasing his hot breath onto your shoulder. "How could I? You were moaning my name and these fucking chocolates are killing me here. God, you sounded so good, baby," Oscar whispered, lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

Your eyes closed naturally at his touch. You were sure you were already wet from the dream but the tingling between your thighs was intensifying. "Oscar," You softly whined.

His hips jerked against you, making you both moan quietly. "I need you, sweetheart. Let me eat you out... please," He pleaded, feeling his cock impossibly tighten.

Clenching your thighs together, you nodded frantically. At your notion, you watched Oscar peel himself away from you. You couldn't hide the shock on your face when you discovered he had already removed his pants long ago. He had been grinding into your ass naked. His cock stood straight, skimming the surface of his lower stomach. It looked different. Angrier... harder... not necessarily bigger but it stood as if it was ready to ruin you.

Oscar eagerly spread your legs with both of his hands, cursing when he saw the patch of wet darkness on your shorts. Carefully, he took away your short, leaving in your panties which were fully damp and clinging to every possible fold of yours. "Shit," He muttered, fingers gingerly pulling the front of your underwear so it was tightly pressed against your pussy.

In his peripheral, he could see your legs squirm, getting antsy for his touch. If he was being honest, Oscar could barely think straight. All this aphrodisiac in his system had sent him overdrive. He couldn't tell what he wanted to do first. Whether he should rub his cock against you so the both of you came like two virgin teenagers going at it for the first time... if he should just fuck you to oblivion or whether he should eat you and find every crevice till you were shaking against him and begging for more..

"Ride my face," Oscar simply stated, peeling away your underwear to reveal your bare pussy. He clenched his jaw, restraining himself from taking you right then and there.

You gasped at the intrusion of cold air on your hot folds. Oscar had said something... what was it again? "R...Ride your face?" You shakily whispered. "A-Are you sure? I... don't you need to breathe?"

In any other moment, Oscar would've laughed lightly. But his need for you was far too strong. He nodded, moving to the side so he laid on his back. "Baby, I've never been so sure of something in my life. Trust me. I've got you," He assured, lust thick with his promise.

You sucked in a sharp breath, unable to mull over the proposition because your answer was already clear by the way your pussy was clenching around nothing and your arousal had increased ten-fold. You moved over Oscar's body, hovering over his face. His hot breath sent a shudder up your spine while his hands naturally placed themselves on your hips, slowly pulling you down, legs on either side of his face.

A groan slipped out of his lips. The scent of your arousal was intoxicating Oscar. He could've sworn that he was fucking pussy-drunk.

Your mouth fell open upon feeling his nose against your clit and his warm tongue flat against your folds. "Oh, fuck," You moaned, thighs tensing around Oscar's face.

Oscar lapped at your juices, slurping all he could while he explored every crevice of your folds. His head jutted against your legs, nose sloppily knocking against your throbbing clit.

Your hands flew to his brown locks, tugging at the sheer pleasure running through your body right now. Any tension or worries you had about suffocating Oscar had melted away, hips already leaning in to put as much of your weight on his face as one could humanely allow, rocking your hips to get even more friction.

His tongue dragged up your folds, finding your swollen bundle of nerves as he came up for air. Oscar just couldn't help it. The urge to get a taste of you shuddering against him was overwhelming. But as he sucked your clit gently, his brown eyes of his flickered up to your face and what a sight it was.

You had completely lost yourself.

Eyes clamped shut, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, sweat littering the surface of your skin, nipples hard against your shirt... fuck. If he knew you would feel and look this good, he would've made you ride his face ages ago.

Despite losing your senses, your body still was restraining from putting your full weight on him. Oscar could feel it as you tried to lift yourself in the attempt of self-control, making him chase for your pussy. But the rise of your hips came one too many times and Oscar had enough, fingers tightening around your thighs with an ironclad grip, holding you close to him.

You squirmed against his hold. All those chocolates... you had both eaten them because you were hungry. But Oscar had only become more starved and thirsty as he drank you as though he was dehydrated. You were so wet that his tongue was practically swimming between each fold.

Hips rutting against his face, your head fell back as his lips moved back to your clit, suctioning the bundle of nerves while stars began to invade your vision. You had barely said anything, so lost in the pleasure, forgetting to praise his art. It was like your brain was so dazed that it wouldn't sync up to your mouth, only allowing for your whimpers and moans to join the lewd slurping of Oscar's.

You couldn't care anymore. The stars were so close... you let your full weight rest on Oscar, making him grin against your heated cunt. Your grip on his hair tightened, the coil in your stomach snapping as his movements became sloppy, drool seeping from the corners of his mouth.

Your body is trembling against his face, convulsing around his tongue while the only thing you can manage to let out is a series of broken moans and obscenities under your breath.

Oscar feels you fall limp, muscles tired from tensing and exerting more energy than usual. He slowly lifted you off of him, shifting you next to him as both of your chests heaved with deep breaths. His head fell against the pillow. "I could do that till I die."

You swallowed the saliva that had built up in your mouth, nestling into the pillow. You let out a soft laugh but it slowly died down once the seriousness of Oscar's tone finally registered. Your eyes travelled down his cock, standing angrier than ever, leaking with pre-cum. From what you were seeing, Oscar must've been in pain.

You shifted closer to Oscar, sweaty skin sticking to his own. You peeled off your shirt, sighing at the cold air skimming your breasts. Without a second thought, Oscar's hands were on them, groping and fondling them. Back arching, you fell closer to his touch, pushing yourself into him.

He was distracting you.

"Oscar," You whimpered at the squeeze of your nipple in response. "Fuck me."

Oscar's hands paused, eyes flickering to you. His breathing had gotten quiet all of a sudden while his eyes darkened. "How?" He asked. "H-How do you want me to fuck you?" His voice cracked slightly with the heavy strain of lust–well, partly the aphrodisiacs-weighing it down.

You pulled yourself away from him, sprawling yourself comfortably on the bed. "However you want."

"Fuck," Oscar groaned, eyes closing at your words before pushing himself up to remove his shirt. He moved to hover his body over you. His hooded eyes flickered over you, full with admiration. You looked like a hot mess. His mess... that he made. You were going to kill him.

His brain must of been short circuiting, however. He blinked blankly at you. "Shit, I don't have a–"

You interrupted him by reaching under your pillow, dangling the foil-wrapped packet in his face. Oscar slowly took what he was looking for from your hands, eyeing you with furrowed brows. "You just keep condoms under your pillow now?"

The sudden comment made you break into laughter, making Oscar's struggling to keep his heart at bay. You nodded your head, quietening down. "Yes, specifically for this occasion."

"When a friend gives me sex chocolates?" Oscar raised a brow, voice full of ridicule.

"Yep! Precisely."

Oscar rolled his eyes, shaking his head. You were bad at joking but to him, you were the world's best comedian. He tore the wrapping, hissing at the sudden contact as he rolled the condom onto his shaft. He blew a deep breath from his lips, sweat-ridden hair doing little to move out of his face.

His eyes fell to your still swollen pussy... so enticing... "I don't think I'll last long," Oscar admitted with a grave mumble, a flush of red scattering across his neck.

You smiled softly. "It's okay. You already gave me the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life... you can fuck me till you can't cum anymore."

Oscar's cock twitched against his stomach. He sure liked the sound of that.

His hands darted out to roam your body, embracing the feel of every curve or bump he could get his hands on. He heard your sharp inhale as his fingers danced around your v-line. Me too, he thought to himself.

Oscar couldn't take it anymore. He was practically blue-balling himself at this point. He lowered himself over you, feeling your hot breath envelope him. His cock slowly pressed against your folds, making both of you pause at the warm feeling tingling up your spines. "Shit," he groaned, watching your engorged folds try to grip any bit of his cock. "You're seriously going to kill me."

"A girl's gotta try," You teased, breaking into a small whimper as Oscar dragged the tip of his throbbing cock to your hole, skimming your clit along the way.

Your mouth fell open upon feeling Oscar pushing his hips into you. His cock entered your warm folds, stretching the tight walls of your soaked cunt. Your head lolled back into the softness of the pillows while a high-pitched whimper slipped past your lips.

Oscar grunted as he fully unsheathed his cock, bottoming out as much as he could. The feel of your pussy clenching around him with a vice-like grip was sending over him already. He could feel every part of you, hips flushed with yours while the tip of his cock nudged your cervix.

He began with shallow thrusts, rocking his hips against yours. "Fuck, you feel so good, baby," Oscar swore, eyes fluttering shut momentarily.

You moaned in response, savouring every inch of his cock that came in and out of you. "You fill up so well," You praised, hand travelling to his own to give him an affirming squeeze.

Oscar missed your lips. It felt like he hadn't touched them in a long time even though he had probably spent over half the morning with them today. Sloppily, his lips travelled across your jaw and met your soft pillowy ones. He could hear your muffled moans in the kiss as he rutted into you. Shit...

"Oscar," You whispered with a high mewl upon feeling his fingers roll your nipple in between them. You were going to kill him? More like he was going to kill you.

But you weren't lying. His cock was indeed filling you so well, having you clench around him like there was no tomorrow. You felt so... full... those fucking chocolates...

Speaking of which... Oscar was over these 'aphrodisiac chocolates' or whatever the hell they were. They were making him insane. Every moment he ever spent with you, whether it was on a date or in bed, he always felt like he was being driven insane (in the nicest possible way, of course). But these chocolates... it felt like he was aware of everything. Every reaction... every part of him was on fire... everything was amplified... ten-fold, no, a hundred.

You were both on the crest of your climaxes. Oscar could tell by the way you were gripping him, the sudden reduction of your words, and the dazed look in your eyes. And you could tell by the stutter of his hips and the twitch of his cock.

Oscar bent his head down towards your legs, spitting directly onto your bundle of nerves. Fuck, now your hips were stuttering as well, the familiar feeling of the coil in your lower abdomen unravelling. "Oscar, fuck, I'm going to–"

Oscar doesn't even have the decency to let you finish your sentence, hand rubbing dizzying circles on your clit, hips increasing it's pace, sending you flying into your second orgasm.

"Oh, shit, shit, that's it, baby," Oscar encouraged, fighting to keep his eyes open as the waves of pleasure began drowning him. You were just squeezing his cock so much. Your mouth is wide open as Oscar's hips faltered against yours. He rushed to take his cock out, hand jerking off the engorged shaft to spill every single drop of his hot white cum onto your stomach.

For a moment, it felt like the effects of the chocolates had worn off as Oscar collapsed on top of you without a single thought going through his mind. His chest heavily rose up and down, your chin nuzzling into his collarbone while he soothingly patted your head.

You both laid like that for over ten minutes, saying nothing, just revelling in each other's presence, naked.

"I think we're going to have to thank Daniel," You joked, finally regaining your words.

"Later," Oscar sucked in a sharp breath. "Like three hours later."

You furrowed your brows, looking up at Oscar, only for him to be looking down. Following his gaze, your eyes honed in on the object capturing both of your attention.

"Oh..."

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri smut #formua one smut

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zreamy · 1 year

Text

nothing to lose

pairing: jay park x fem!reader

summary: after a hockey party, a football game, and a near perfect first kiss, jay is humbled by his (practically silent) friend sunghoon, who reminds him that he has nothing to lose.

genres: university / college au, friends (uni crushes) to lovers, smut, fluff

warnings: minors dni, vaguely (very?) british undertones..

word count: 24,064 .. sorry.

playlist: awkward sza, do you like me? daniel caesar

author's note: please just be nice to me and let me know your thoughts (positive / negative / anything as long as ur not mean abt it) .. thank u @asahicore my rock, my bestie, my beta reader .. <333 hope u enjoy !!!

When you pair his kind eyes and charming smile with his ever-positive outlook on life, it’s easy to see why Park Jongseong is heavily popular amongst the student body; even described by your flatmates (and the rest of his fan club) as the stuff of dreams. And in your dreams, you know exactly why he’s staring in your direction with a sweet smile on his face. In real life, however, you have absolutely no idea and it’s kind of weird. Not his smile itself, no, his smile is.. really pretty, but it’s kind of weird in the sense that it’s directed at you.

You think.

Most of the library’s population sits across the room in the computer lab and based on your seat, at an empty table, in the (also empty) far corner, he’s either smiling at you or at the wall that your head is resting on. It’s not until the two of you lock eyes that you feel you should smile back, though your brows knit together at the way he whips his head around in the other direction when you do – a move that seems out of character for the Park Jongseong that you know. Or rather, the Park Jongseong Jay that you knew.

The Jay you knew was a (more than) pleasant enough guy who grinned in a way that pushed a dimple into his cheek every time he got to class and sidled his way through the aisle to sit in the seat next to you. The very first time he did it he’d mistaken you for someone else, his smile faltering slightly as he sat down anyway, a large hand extended to you.

“Jay,” he introduced himself, nodding thoughtfully when you told him your name and holding on to your hand for a split second longer than what was comfortable. And even though it was clear that he’d been sitting in the wrong seat, at Na Jaemin’s end-of-year party months later, you acted shocked when he told you about how he’d forgotten to put his contacts in that morning. Nonetheless, he continued sitting next to you in that class for the rest of the semester.

From your current seat in the library, you watch him curiously, wondering if he might look over again. For two minutes, he leans against a shelf in the reference section, completely unaware of his audience (you) as he types on his phone. You can’t take your eyes off him until the sudden vibration of your phone startles you, your hand reaching for it immediately thinking (hoping?) it might be a text from him.

yj: hockey mixer tn

yj: what are you guys wearing

You feel relieved to see that it’s just Yunjin in the group chat, though, as you read the messages, you struggle not to roll your eyes seeing that she (captain of the hockey team) is still trying to convince you (non-member of the hockey team) to go to the hockey mixer. By the looks of things, the field hockey team is the last to take advantage of the space that the student union building has to offer. Functioning as a nightclub over the weekend (and on select weeknights), The U is the place to be if you’re looking for a good time for a good price.

Unlike the other club parties, tonight’s hockey mixer is Yunjin’s answer to concerns raised by members of the students’ union about binge drinking on campus. According to her: “A mixer is an informal gathering where people mingle, interact, and get to know each other. And a party is,” she paused, fixing her eyes on the ceiling as if waiting for divine inspiration to strike. “Fun.” She didn’t seem pleased when you asked if this meant that the mixer would be boring and eventually confessed that the hockey party would be a mixer in name only.

You lock your phone without responding and lift your gaze back to references only to find that Jay is gone; stuck to the part of the bookshelf he was leaning on, you notice a lopsided poster featuring two crossed field hockey sticks and a ball over a green gradient, and a chill runs down your spine. If Yunjin is one thing, she’s bad at graphic design persistent.

Unfortunately, in all your time spent not working, you find that your laptop hasn’t begun doing your research paper for you, and the Google Doc looks exactly the same as it did when you last edited it one hour ago, with only the intro from the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals website pasted into it. In the bottom left corner of your screen, a white box tells you that it’s 467 words long, and, feeling a rare bout of motivation, you get to work paraphrasing and attempting to condense the text.

As morning turns into afternoon, the library starts to get busier and busier, and despite the low hum of several different conversations creeping in through your earphones, you’ve gotten into a flow with your work and don’t let anything distract you. That is until Jay himself lets his backpack thud onto the table across from you, brows raising a little at the sudden noise, before pulling out the chair and sitting down.

“Need a study buddy?” he asks, a tentative hand on the zipper of his jacket.

You take a moment to observe him; the way he asked to join you after having already joined you, settling into the seat before you’d had a chance to say anything. A part of you wants to say “no,” just to see how he reacts, but, with a smile on your face, you take out your earphones and say, “Sure.”

A grin spreads over his lips as he mumbles the word sweet, shrugging off the oversized coat and letting it drape over the back of his chair, revealing a chunky pair of headphones sitting around his neck and a thin gold chain with a hook pendant on it. His dark hair sits flat on his forehead and he rakes a hand through it twice before taking a textbook out of his bag. He doesn’t touch it, though. Instead, he lets his elbows rest on the table in front of him, biceps flexing slightly under his sleeves as he crosses his forearms. “What are you working on?” he asks.

“A report on the integration of renewable technology in buildings, for my sustainable development class.”

Jay hums, brows raising slightly. “Renewable tech like solar panels and shit, right?”

“Right.”

Another grin, pretty, sincere. “It’s cool you’re getting to learn about the stuff you care about,” he tells you, and even if you hadn’t been looking at him, you’d have been able to hear the smile in his voice, light, sweet. Jay is sweet. The statement trickled out of his mouth so simply, so casually, a small detail that you have to rack your brain to recall sharing with him; still just as attentive as you remember. “Really.”

“Yeah,” you nod, smiling too. “Exactly.”

There’s a distinct comfort that rolls off of Jay in waves as the two of you chat, and the scene feels familiar. It’s reminiscent of the nights you’d spend together last term, at a table like this one with the notes from your shared Property Law lecture sprawled out in front of you while pretending to study. The two of you would find anything else to talk about, and constantly received dirty looks from the laughter you’d struggle to stifle.

It’s not until Jay reaches for his textbook that you properly check it out, and as a non-fashion student, you’re not expecting to know what subject he’s studying but you’re pretty sure that Nutrition, Energy, and Human Performance are not part of his curriculum. “Excercise Physiology?” you ask, reading its title.

“I picked it up earlier for Sunghoon. He’s at the rink all morning,” he nods.

“So why are you studying it?”

Jay laughs, shifting in his seat. “It’s, like, the only thing I have in my backpack. I just came over here ‘cause I wanted to say hey.”

It takes everything in you not to say “aww” out loud; his sweetness palpable, his smile contagious, and his eyes so bright and warm that your heart soars in your chest when you look at them. “Hey,” you say after a beat.

“Hey,” he chuckles. “How was your break?”

“It was good! I went home for a week, or so, and then I got bored and came back to hang out with Chaewon,” you tell him, grinning despite yourself at the memory of poorly mixed cocktails and days spent lounging by the pool at her family’s holiday home. “85% of the summer was just us running around being stupid.”

“And the other 15?”

You feel more than a little awkward about telling him that you spent the other 15% fooling around with Jaemin, so with a forced smile you tell him, “Just more running around being stupid.” Hopefully, he can’t sense your mild discomfort and thinks you’re scratching your neck because it’s itchy and not because of the slight guilt you feel. “How was yours?”

“Minus Chaewon, I had, like, the exact same break.” He pauses, breaking out into the widest grin you’ve ever seen. “Oh, and I went to the Yuuri show! It was crazy.” He runs a hand through his hair, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. “I was gonna text you but I didn’t wanna bother you during break or anything.”

“Oh,” you say, dragging the vowel. “Right. So you’re bothering me during term time instead?” You tease, though with the way Jay’s eyes widen and his brows knit together, it doesn’t seem like he’s caught on to your joking tone. “I’m kidding, tell me all about it,” you add as quickly as you can manage, a huge smile on your face.

Relief washes over you as Jay laughs, his shoulders shaking, and his nose crinkling, showing off the scar across its bridge that you’ve come to like so much. After calming down, he watches you carefully, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Right,” he finally says, taking a breath before talking with excitement and at great length about the concert.

But it isn’t without slight interruption: Jay’s phone vibrates against the table a few times, and he ignores it, eventually turning it on do not disturb before squinting at you. “You’re not allowed to laugh. Pinky promise me you won’t laugh.” He holds his hand out to you, wagging his pinky finger in your face. There’s a smile on his lips when you link your finger with his, his skin rough against your own when he squeezes your pinky. As much as his tight grip is starting to hurt, you (unsuccessfully) fight off a smile when you realise that the two of you are effectively holding hands.

“I’m not gonna laugh,” you promise.

A beat passes before Jay lets out a chuckle. “That’s my girl,” he says, voice low as if he didn’t want you to hear him. You wish you didn’t hear him.

When you try to let go, he doesn’t budge, only easing up a little so he’s not cutting off your circulation anymore; just holding it lightly with his. Across the table from you, struggling to meet your eyes, Jay wears a sheepish look. “He threw his pick out into the crowd at the end of the show, and I caught it!” he tells you, looking away. “And I cried..” His voice thins out into practically nothing though you think you hear the words “home,” and “Heeseung,” before he stops talking completely.

Jay’s sentimental side has tugged at your heart for as long as you’ve known him, and given the way he’d sobbed quietly in his seat at the cinemas when you’d gone out to watch a late showing of Spider-Man 2 together, you find it easy to imagine him welling up over catching Yuuri’s guitar pick.

For some reason, much like the tears he’d shed over Peter Parker, you find the thought quite cute, and a smile teases at the corners of your mouth as you make a mental note to finally listen to some Yuuri songs later on. Jay looks at you expectantly, and before you have the chance to speak his phone starts to ring, vibrating incessantly against the table, though Jay doesn’t take his eyes off of you.

“Do you need to get that?” you ask, unable to suppress the snort that makes its way out.

Jay shakes his head. “You promised me. You’re still promising me,” he says, lips curving into a frown as he makes a show of waving your still-linked hands.

“No, it’s cute that you cried.”

He seems shocked by this. “Really?”

“A little.”

His mouth falls open in a silent gasp as he furrows his brows at you. “A li—” He’s cut off by his phone vibrating once again, and he releases your pinky to check it. Jay sighs lightly, reading the messages from his screen and picking up the textbook. “Sorry, Hoon’s on my ass about this thing. I gotta go.”

Disappointment weighs lightly on your shoulders at his words, though you do feel better when you see the little pout on his lips, hoping that it means he doesn’t want your conversation to end either. “I get it,” you say, shooting him a smile that you hope is convincing as he puts the book in his bag before pulling his jacket back on, and standing up from his seat.

“I’ll text you,” he says cheerfully, waving at you before leaving. He looks over his shoulder a few moments later, waving again with the same smile from earlier on his face.

You can’t help but watch as he retreats, captivated by the air of confidence he somehow exudes even without showing his face, until he disappears into the mix of students by the entrance, becoming just another bag and shoulders in the crowd.

Without Jay to chat to, the idea of sitting in the library becomes jarring, and suddenly it’s time for you to leave too. You don’t hesitate to grab your phone when it vibrates twice next to you, an odd combination of the relief from earlier and slight disappointment hitting you when you see that it’s Yunjin — texting you directly this time.

yj: if you wanna ignore me turn off read receipts

yj: open bar for girls on the team

you: sounds like the hockey girls are gonna have a good night

yj: i’ll get you a jacket

you: don’t bother i’m not going.

SWANG rattles through tinny speakers in the student union and with every free drink you knock back, it gets harder and harder to pretend to Yunjin that you’re not having a good time. The team jacket she snagged for you and Chaewon to share fits a little big over your shoulders as you conclude that Number 20 is a lot more popular than you thought if the vaguely disappointed look on many faces when they see your face is anything to go by.

Sitting in a booth towards the back of The U, you and Yunjin mumble along to the song with a shot in each hand as she starts a countdown from 3! and you wonder whether or not you’ll be able to make it to class in the morn—2!—ing given how much you’ve had to drink and how much of the night is still left to happen 1! The formerly rancid tequila goes down like water the first time around, and gets caught in your throat the second time.

“I’m so happy you came tonight!” she yells in your ear, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, choosing to gush while you cough into the crook of your elbow. “I always have the most fun with you but you never come out.” Her drunkenness is evident in the slightly higher pitch that her words take on and the way most of the consonants come out almost the same way the vowels do.

As sweet as she’s being, you can’t ignore the alarms blaring in your head hearing that your best friend would describe going out (at least) two nights a week as “never” going out, but you chuckle along anyway, locking your hand with hers.

With a smile on his face, Lee Jeno brings Chaewon back to the booth in one piece, ruffling her hair a little before raising a hand to salute you and Yunjin, and disappearing back into the crowd.

“The period at the end of that last text almost convinced us,” she says as she takes her seat beside you. “But I new your little crush on Jay wouldn’t let you miss a chance to see him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Chaewon rolls her eyes, backing a shot before leaning over you to get closer to Yunjin. “She’s pretending again.”

With a scoff, Yunjin unlocks her phone and pulls up her camera roll to an album titled with an unfortunately cute ship name. “I can’t stop thinki–” You cut her off, snatching the phone from her hands and placing it under your thigh.

“Okay, okay,” you relent, letting your head fall back as you groan. “I may have had a.. thing for him last semester but I’m over it now.”

“Do you think he’ll swipe up if I post a song he likes?” Chaewon reads between laughs.

Flustered, you sink into your seat after hearing the text that you sent two nights ago, hoping with all your might that the booth will open up to swallow you whole.

To your utter devastation, it does not.

The universe chooses to soothe you in a different way by sending an angel Kazuha to drag you all out onto the dance floor. With intertwined hands, the four of you “excuse me” and “sorry” your way over to where Sakura and her friend Mark are dancing a little closer than usual with one another.

His hands are on her hips as he holds her back to his front, the two of them grinding to the music, but she’s quick to smack his hands off of her and break away from him when she sees you guys approaching. Using a hand to push hair out of her face, Sakura laughs at nothing, smacking Mark’s chest playfully while he glues his eyes to the floor.

“We missed you at pres,” you say, wrapping her in a hug.

“Right, sorry, Mark had a thing at his place!”

Despite understanding why she does, you ignore Chaewon when she nudges you at the mention of Mark and his place before hugging him too, agreeing when he says that you guys should come next time.

The six of you form a circle after greeting one another, jumping around while yelling obnoxiously to the music blaring into your ears. Over Mark’s shoulder, you see Jay nodding at a friend before leaving the clu—“I’m actually gonna go get some air,” you blurt out. “Alone!” you add before Yunjin can offer to come with.

Despite the way the breeze nips at your legs, the fresh air is a welcome slap in the face when it hits you; the previously ear-splitting music reduced to a pathetic mumble now that you’re outside. A few girls that you recognise from some of your classes stand opposite the, now short, entry queue, waving you towards them and blowing cigarette smoke over their shoulders. You shake your head when they offer you a draw, though (against your better judgement) you do accept a few hits of a polar menthol flavoured juul while chatting distractedly about your “new spot” on the hockey team and trying to find Jay — which doesn’t take you very long.

Not too far from where you’re standing, he leans against the building’s grey brick while looking at his phone. Its OLED display casts a slight glow over his features, showing off the crease of his brow, the slope of his nose, and the tiny little pout set on his lips as he types.

You can’t help but stare as Jimin and Minjeong plan the rest of their night, which includes afters at Yizhuo’s if she doesn’t pass out, and extend an invitation to you and your friends — “I mean, we’re still gonna go. She’ll probably need us more if she does,” Minjeong says, stubbing out a cigarette under her shoe before both girls head inside.

Waving goodbye, you let yourself find Jay again and take a deep breath. For a moment, you attempt to strategise in the way you and the girls always do together. A few possibilities play out in your head and right when you think you’ve found a good opener—“Hello!” You find yourself saying as you stumble walk over to him.

As you’ve come to expect, his mouth curves into a smile when he looks up at you. “Hello,” he says, laughing through the word. In the short time it takes you to reach him, and lean about an arm’s length away on the same wall, he slips his phone into his jacket pocket. “Since when are you a hockey girl?”

With a smile of your own, you roll up your left sleeve to refer to a watch that you’re not wearing. “It’s been a few hours.”

Jay’s teeth press down on his bottom lip as he chuckles, before mumbling an apology and pulling his phone back out. You don’t mean to peek at his screen when he opens the messages app, but you do anyway. And can’t help but feel bad at the sight of your name at the top of the second message thread — the memory of Yunjin taking your phone so you couldn’t text back forcing your stomach to turn a little.

Lifting your gaze back up to him, you sort of hate how pretty he looks as he ruffles his hair before putting his phone back in his pock—You turn your head immediately, finding sudden interest in the lamp post that irregularly flickers a pale yellow over his shoulder. For a split second, it seems like you managed to stare at him without being caught, but if the little laugh he lets out is anything to go by, your neck jerk wasn’t as subtle as you’d hoped.

“You’re cute,” he grins, stepping a little closer. “It suits you.”

It’s a struggle to backtrack and remember what the two of you were even talking about as the faint scent of his cologne hits your nostrils. “F-field hockey?” you offer.

“The jacket,” he clarifies, a sweet laugh slipping past his lips as he speaks.

“Ohh, you too.”

He cocks his head to the side. “You think this suits me?”

His hand comes to one side of his denim jacket, holding it out slightly and allowing you to catch a proper whiff of his cologne and a glimpse of his bare shoulder. You worry a little about what might come out of your mouth if you open it, deciding for everyone’s sake just to nod and pray that he’ll leave the damn jacket alone.

“It’d probably look better on you.”

An audible smile tugs at your lips. “No way.” You shake your head, trying and failing to keep your giggles to yourself.

“You wanna prove me wrong?”

With a tilt of your head, you turn the offer around in your mind; a pros and cons list starting to take shape.

Pros: getting to wear Jay’s jacket, having an almost permanent reason to keep chatting with him throughout the night, and getting to see Jay in a vest — arguably the biggest pro of them all, given the amount of IG stories he’s posted in the gym recently.

Con: losing free drinks privileges; which doesn’t really seem like a huge deal because Chaewon can just wear the hockey jacket and get drinks for you like she’s been doing for half of the night so far.

Under the weight of Jay’s stare, you shift on your feet, realising that he’s clearing his throat for the second time since he stopped speaking and you still haven't said anything. “But then I’d have to pay for my drinks,” you say in an attempt not to seem too eager. The words slur a bit on their way out, though you’re too caught up in the way Jay’s lips tug into a grin to fuss over it.

“Not if you stick wi—” He stops short, cut off by a voice from a few metres away. “Jongsaaaaaaeeeeeeng!” it yells. And if not for his silver head of hair, you’d never have believed it was Park Sunghoon screaming like that.

“Poor guy kept icing himself,” Lee Heeseung calmly explains, walking ahead of Sunghoon and, what looks like, Sim Jake who’ve been giggling with one another since the cry left the younger’s mouth.

Despite not knowing Sunghoon very well, from what you’ve heard about him, it’s easy to imagine him hiding bottles of Smirnoff Ice to ice one of his friends, only to lose track of where he’d put them and find them himself later on, thinking one of his friends was icing him. The thought makes you stifle your laughter; you like the fact that Jay laughs too.

Before dapping Jay up, Heeseung offers him the confiscated Smirnoff Ice that Sunghoon had made quite a dent in, only shrugging when he declines. Jay watches as his friend wraps an arm around your shoulder in a polite side hug while asking if you want to finish the “smice”. You let a beat pass before telling him that you’ll think about it.

For a while, you listen as he fills Jay in on what he missed at pres, smiling at Jake and Sunghoon as they get closer, and wondering when it would be appropriate if at all, to introduce yourself to the three boys that you’ve only ever walked by at parties or on campus. You find a window when the two arrive, waving a little when you tell them your name.

Jake’s lips curve into what looks like a smirk as he looks over at you. “We know,” he says, eyes darting quickly over to Jay before looking back at you.

Sunghoon says nothing.

The boys are quick to get back to their conversation, and Heeseung glances in Jay’s direction, nodding his head before making a show of unscrewing the cap on the smice and skying it. After an impressive chug, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, holding up the empty bottle like a trophy before putting it in the bin.

With a slight frown, you realise that you didn’t even get to tell him that you didn’t want it.

There’s a grin on his face as he wraps his arms around Jake and Sunghoon’s shoulders. “See you guys in there!” he says before guiding the two boys away and into the club.

With the two of you on your own again, you become hyperaware of your proximity, of the fact that if you moved your hand even a centimetre it would brush his. The heat from his body is dizzying, and with his body leaning down towards you, Jay is already watching you when you look up at him. His lips rest in a small smile that only widens at the sight of your face, seeming unbothered that you’d caught him staring. That it wouldn’t take much to bridge the gap between your faces. Between your lips.

“The offer still stands,” he says. “To wear my jacket and drink for free.”

A somewhat familiar 808 beat rattles through tinny speakers in the student union.Jay’s jacket fits pretty big over your shoulders as you try not to say anything ridiculous while he holds your hand, leading you through the crowd. Now that your hands are actually clasped, the butterflies you’d felt over having linked fingers for a pinky promise seem silly, completely eclipsed by the feeling of your heart clattering against your ribs. After every few steps, he looks over his shoulder at you, your cheeks burning hotter and hotter with each smile he throws your way.

Upon your return to the booth, you drop the team jacket in Chaewon’s lap, praying that your friends won’t say anything about Jay or the fact that you’re wearing his jacket — or the fact that despite having reached your friends safely the two of you are still holding hands. By the looks of things it seems as though telling her to move up isn’t enough of a signal to her that you’d like to sit down; though maybe she’s just too busy trying to shrug the jacket back on to move up. You tell yourself that she’s just too busy trying to shrug the jacket back on to move up.

Chaewon wears a wicked grin on her face, making no effort to be discreet about staring at your intertwined fingers. “YN? Why aren’t you dancing? You love this song!” she says, opening her mouth to wink obnoxiously at you and nudging Yunjin.

“I don’t know this song,” you say, liking the way Jay laughs beside you, squeezing your hand a little.

For reasons unbeknownst to you, Yunjin sees this as the best opportunity to chime in, tilting her head before saying, “Whaaaaaaat? This is your favourite song! Trust me, Jay, she loves this song!”

“And she’s such a good dancer,” Chaewon adds. “Have you seen her dance, Jay?”

You stand around dumbly, mouthing the word “stop,” at your friends and leaning up towards Jay when he leans down to you. “How about a drink?” he asks with a voice as smooth as velvet, soft lips grazing the shell of your ear.

“Please.”

After telling the girls that you’ll be back, and flipping them off with your free hand, you let Jay lead you back through the dance floor to the bar, letting an elbow rest on its surface. When you look at him, he’s watching you, his lips quirked up ever so slightly while he does so.

Letting your nails drum against the bar, you smile back. “Sorry about my friends,” you say, unsure as to why you’re apologising but feeling like it’s the right thing to say.

“Sorry about your friends?” Jay asks. He grins. “Sorry about mine.”

You want to tell him that you liked his friends, that they seemed nice. Even though Sunghoon didn’t speak, and Heeseung finished the drink he offered you before you even had a chance to let him know that you wanted it. But he’s already distracted.

His eyes scan the bottles that line the shelves behind the bar, and you busy yourself doing the same thing, the sight of almost every rum brand bringing up memories of past nights out with your friends. Two palm trees on a white bottle of “MarkLeebu” leave you suppressing your laughter as you think about Sakura’s friend falling asleep - standing up - against the wall of a club after drinking two bottles of Malibu to himself on a dare.

Jay’s breath fans your ear when he speaks, “What are you having?”

“A jäger bomb.”

With a nod, he orders your drink and a whiskey for himself, and as per his suggestion, the two of you toast “to third year” before drinking.

Jay makes good on his promise. One shot becomes two becomes three, and a cocktail in a comically large pitcher before you wake up the next morning to Sakura hogging the duvet, and no memory of anything beyond sitting down at the bar.

While lying on your back you curse two versions of yourself: the first for leaving the window open before you left, and the second for having so much to drink. Staring up at the ceiling, you attempt to go over your interactions with Jay using a fine-tooth comb to figure out just how badly you humiliated yourself last night. Given the fact that you don’t remember what happened after 1 a.m. (or so), this doesn’t take too long, and the corners of your lips quirk up into a smile as you think about the way his hand felt in yours.

Your memory tells you that he smiled a lot, but this seems like an insignificant detail because Jay always smiles a lot. There was a pitcher. A big one. Inside it was a vibrant, sweet, too cheap to be true cocktail that you sipped, blinked, and opened your eyes to find yourself in bed. The unaccounted-for period fills you with a visceral sense of dread, leaving you unsure if you shiver because of the temperature in your room or out of sheer embarrassment.

The notifications you find on your phone only make you feel more nervous, so you cover your eyes with your hand before checking them. You were mentioned in Chaewon’s Instagram story (which means you behaved catastrophically), and you have a text from Jay (which .. well you’re not quite sure what to make of this). Through the gap in your fingers, you start by looking at the story, uncontrollable butterflies in your stomach from what you see. A picture (on close friends) of you sitting in Jay’s lap with his arms wrapped around your wairs, and his chin resting on your shoulder; the two of you donning wide grins with THESE TWOOOOOOO 😍😍😍 written over it.

Jay’s text is simple yet sweet: hope u got home okay, was realy nice getting to chill w u again <3. You don’t even realise that you’re giggling until Sakura stirs next to you.

you: i did thank uuuuuuu

you: sorry if i was weird though haha

You say. Although all things considered, you can’t really think of anything to be haha-ing about but Jay’s reply comes so quickly that you barely have the time to dwell on this fact. “Nahhhh you were so cute dw,” he texts back.

With your stomach doing somersaults, you turn over in the bed, burying your head in the pillow to muffle a squeal.

Sakura wakes up.

While in the shower, you let the water hit you directly in the face for a bit with your eyes screwed tightly shut under the stream. And not a single thought occurs to you other than how cute Jay seems to think you are.

jay: do you have class today

you: slept in

jay: L

jay: for me.. i wanted to see you again

Your jaw falls open as you read the message, and over your shoulder, Yunjin lets out the gasp that you hadn’t been able to. “Oh, my God!” she says, watching as a cheek-aching smile creeps up on your lips. A small celebration ensues while the two of you squeal and kick your feet like children. And then your phone vibrates again.

jay: could still link if ur down?

jay: hold up

Yunjin pulls air through her teeth. “Could still link if you’re down,” she reads before taking the phone from your hand. “Fuckboy text, ignore.”

Knowing you’re not likely to win the argument that Jay’s not a fuckboy — even though he’s not one, you think — you roll your eyes. “So what if he’s a fuckboy?” you frown, pulling your knees to your chest.

“If a fuckboy was supposed to be liked he’d be called a like boy,” Yunjin says as if reciting scripture. “Text Jaemin back if you want a fuckboy.”

You don’t mean to groan out loud at her tone. “Jaemin’s not a fuckboy, he’s just.. a guy. Who.. likes to fuck.”

The sound of the front door opening prompts you to pause the TV, and the two of you crane your necks towards the open doorway to hear what’s going on. It’s Chaewon giggling loudly before speaking.

“Thanks for bringing me home.”

A deep chuckle sounds through the hall. Jeno. Of course. “You’re my girl,” he says and his smile is audible through his words. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Chaewon giggles at this too, and, pressing play on the remote, you share a look with Yunjin as you hear the beginning of a wet kiss. Brooklyn Nine-Nine gets through an entire cold open and the theme song before she – looking fresher than ever in her boyfriend’s sweatpants – joins you both on the couch.

“What’d I miss?” she asks.

“Yunjin thinks Jay’s a fuckboy.”

Chaewon lets out a snort. “Well, yeah, anyone could’ve told you that, dude’s best friend is Lee Heeseung,” she says, though quickly changes her tune as if remembering her audience. “It’s all just rumours though, people see a good-looking guy who’s overly friendly and flirts with everybody, and posts obvious thirst traps to his Snapchat story, and just assume he’s a fuck boy..” she trails off, sinking a little in her seat.

Somewhat disheartened, you nod your head. “Right.”

“So what did I miss?” Chaewon asks again, pointing at the TV this time.

Still in Yunjin’s custody, your phone vibrates in her lap and she gasps as she reads the screen. “A reformed fuck boy?” she says, holding the phone up for you and Chaewon to read.

jay: would you like to hang out with me later?

You grin despite yourself, reading the message and reading it again before telling him “yes”, and later can’t come soon enough. The time slips by like molasses and you finally meet up with Jay -four decades- two hours later, with no set plan, at the library where he approaches you with Jake and a smile on his face.

Friendly as ever, Jake chats with you and keeps a pretty smile on his lips the whole time. “If you ever have a hard time with physics or math based classes, I’ve got you,” he offers, clearly happy to hear that you’re in STEM too.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you tell him, grateful as you remember the tears you’d shed over a Construction Mathematics lecture last year.

With a wave, Jake leaves the two of you alone, saying “See you later” before walking away. He excitedly glances over his shoulder to where you stand with Jay a few times.

After telling you that he “knows a spot,” Jay takes you on a bit of a walk, successfully distracting you from the distance by keeping you talking. He listens enthusiastically while you ramble about a show you started, and you like the feeling in your chest when he says he’ll check it out.

With a “ta-da,” Jay extends an arm to the gate in front of you. A play park. “We’re here!” he says, struggling to mask the excitement in his voice as he walks towards the empty play area. “It’s no fun when there’s kids here so I brought us the long way.”

As you follow him through the gate, you can’t help but feel a bit nervous. The last time you’d been sober at a play park you were probably 15 or so, cutting through the park on your walk home from school with your friends. You’d spin the roundabout at lightspeed cackling at the screams of terror coming from those sitting on it, and talk about your crushes while calming down on the swings.

Jay sits on one of the swings and watches you, and even though you’re not too sure what to talk about, you’re pretty sure confessing your crush on him as you sit next to him might send him running in the opposite direction. Instead, you clear your throat and look over at him. “So your “spot” is a play park?” you ask, using your feet to rock you back and forth.

He pulls air through his teeth, scrunching his nose and tilting his head. “Would you prefer it if I took you to CP in the Sky?”

If Jay had his car with him, you might have hoped for that. Most of the boys in your city who drive, including Jaemin, have been known to take girls to a spot they know. Super quiet, private, and almost as pretty as you, they’ll say, and take you up to ‘Car Park in the Sky’; the city’s most notorious hook-up spot. Though, Jaemin hadn’t exactly been secretive about wanting to hook up and actually only drove there after you’d told him about it.

You shake your head. “The park is good, it’s great.”

Conversation ebbs and flows between the two of you, the sounds of nature and the swings creaking keeping you company. It’s nice spending time with Jay like this. Sober. And not holed up in the library or a cafe with assignments and deadlines on your mind.

You don’t mean to gain momentum but you do, swinging about as high as you can, gasping when you see a car over the top of a climbing frame.

“What is it?” he asks, laughing to himself when you jump off the swing.

“I wanna take a drive!” you call out over your shoulder, jogging over to the wooden stationary car you saw.

Jay’s footsteps sound after yours, and he grabs you by the wrist before you climb into the driver’s side. “Did you get your licence yet?”

You shake your head, watching as his mouth falls open, bracing yourself for a lecture on how a girl of your age should be driving already.

He looks aghast, in genuine distress before he speaks. “What makes you think I’m gonna let you drive?” Jay nods his head to the other side of the car. “Go.”

Letting out the most exaggerated sigh you can manage, you comply, dragging your feet to the passenger side and climbing in. Jay follows suit, sitting down next to you on the small connected seat built with kids in mind, and his thigh presses up against yours.

“Don’t be upset, everyone knows passenger princess is way more fun than actually driving.”

And rationally, you know he’s not specifically calling you a princess but your tummy turns nonetheless.

“Whatever,” you mumble, faking a sigh and struggling to suppress your laughter when he buckles a fake seat belt. Jay gives you a disapproving look when you don’t move to do the same. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he says solemnly, though you can see the smile teasing at his lips. “Better safe than sorry, that’s what I always say.”

There’s nothing behind his words, no hidden meaning but you read into them anyway, hoping he can’t hear the way you gulp at the thought that plagues you. For some reason, you’ve chosen this hill to die on, shrugging at him and turning to look straight ahead.

Jay sighs dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose before leaning over you to grab your ‘seat belt’ and buckle in by himself. He takes his time though, and the way he looks you dead in the eye makes you wish you’d just done it yourself. His face is close to yours, his breath warm against your skin, creating a welcome contrast to the cold air around you. He lingers for a beat before sitting up straight and clicking the belt into place.

“Finally,” he whispers, putting an imaginary gear stick into reverse and draping his arm over the back of your connected seat. You can’t help but watch as he looks over your shoulders before moving the car, liking the way his side profile looks under the rapidly setting sun. Something stops him, he looks at you. “I can’t focus with you staring at me like that,” he says, taking his hand from the wheel to touch your cheek.

Your breath catches in your throat. Jay grins, gently turning your face away from him. You stare over at the roundabout and feel just as dizzy as you would have if you’d taken him up on his offer to spin you on it.

Jay gets on with all the necessary checks before ‘starting’ the car and ‘driving’ off. “What are you thinking about?”

It probably wouldn’t be appropriate to tell him that you’re thinking about the way it felt when he put his fingers to your cheek. Or how gentle he was with you, only pushing you a little bit and then guiding you the rest of the way. So you keep that to yourself. “The movies.”

You hear Jay chuckling next to you. “All of them?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “The drive-in kind. Have you been?”

“I went once.”

You gasp, excited. “Really? What did you see?”

Jay thinks about it for a while. He thinks about it really hard before shaking his head, “You know, I don’t think I was paying much attention.”

“You spent all that money on a ticket and didn’t even pay attention? What were you doing?” The words rush out before you can stop them and you cringe a little thinking about the possible answers.

He turns his gaze back out on the road. “Sleeping,” he mumbles, swallowing thickly.

You wish you could go back in time to stop yourself from asking, finding an answer to the question: “Is it better to speak or to die?”

“Hey, we can go to the drive-in right now! I just need to put this thing in park and we can watch any movie you want!” he says, stopping the car and turning as much as he can in his seat to face you. “Any movie that’s available with a Netflix subscription!” he adds, smiling when you do.

Cramped together in the front seat of the stationary car, the two of you watch The Devil Wears Prada and get about halfway through before Jay’s phone hits 10% — and it’s probably the best movie watching experience you’ve ever had.

You take Jay up on his offer to walk you home, and he chats with you about the movie, telling you how much he thinks it totally blows that Miranda Priestly isn’t a real person that he can work for after graduation, but he seems happy enough when you suggest that he could become Miranda Priestly.

Reaching the familiar crossing by the student union, you look up at him. “If it’s easier, you can just head your way from here. I can literally see my building,” you offer, feeling bad about him walking so far out of his way.

Jay scoffs like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “I’m not gonna make you walk by yourself.”

“It’s barely five minutes,” you tell him, shaking your head. “You don’t have to.”

“YN?”

“Hm?”

A pretty smile spreads across his lips. “I want to, let’s go.” And Jay hardly gets to start telling you about his upcoming mock trial before you reach your flat.

“This is me,” you say, pointing at the door to your building.

He lets out a dry chuckle. “You’re kidding.”

You shake your head. He frowns, looking terribly cute with his lips turned down like that. Though it doesn’t last for long and he raises his brows when you gasp. “You know, we came from a place I’ve never been before, and I’m starting to think this might be the wrong street,” you say, struck by the sudden realisation. “We should probably walk around the block a couple more times, just to really be sure.”

Listening to your words, Jay beams at you and it’s heavenly. “I heard it can actually take, like, 4 or 5 walks around the block if you want 100% certainty.”

“Oh yeah,” you giggle. “I think I’ve heard that too. Should we make it 6?”

“Perfect.”

To your surprise, you’d both been wrong. As it would turn out, the required number of, very slow, walks around a student housing complex to be 100% sure, completely beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re at the right place is ten.

“Hey, uh, how about we do one more lap? Just to make sure? For the absolute best measure,” Jay suggests, eyes twinkling under the streetlamp. He almost looks a little nervous, burying his hands in his pockets as he watches you.

“Sounds good.”

Just like your last few walks around the student housing block, fallen leaves rustle under your footsteps, and the back of Jay’s hand still brushes against yours, but this time feels different. Maybe because there’s a finality to this; the last lap. You couldn’t possibly ask him to spend any more time walking around here. Could you?

“This neighbourhood is so cute, all the student apartments clustered together like this, I love it,” he says, looking over at you.

“It’s nice knowing that some of my friends, and the people I like partying with, live so close, but it’s always so noisy around here,” you tell him, continuing when he doesn’t speak. “‘Cause it’s all just a bunch of 18–20–somethings that live here, and The U’s just down the street. The noise is fun when I’m part of it, but when I’m studying or just trying to sleep it’s annoying.”

“Don’t you think it’s kinda cool though? There’s always something happening. So even if the girls aren’t down to go out, you’re not exactly short on plans.”

You’d never really thought of it like that. Probably because Yunjin is always down to go out. But you like the way he puts it. You nod, reminded of your classmates who live in the building right next to where you’re walking. “Yeah, I should probably text Minjeong more.”

“And if not you can always hit me and see what I’m doing,” he says at the same time.

You stop walking, and your heart — feels like it — stops beating.

Jay, noticing this, stands in front of you, hands help up defensively as he shakes his head. “You don’t have to do that, obviously. I just thought it’d be cool if you weren’t doing anything and I wasn’t doing anything, maybe we could link and do nothing together,” he explains. “I’m stupid, sorry.”

This might be the first time you’ve ever heard Jay ramble like this, and your heart does a twirl just seeing his worried expression. “I think if I’m not doing anything, and you’re not doing anything, then it’d be cool for us to link and do nothing together, Jay,” you smile, liking the way he visibly relaxes, his shoulders falling slightly and an exhale curling out of his mouth and into the air.

“Cool.”

When, for the 11th time, you reach your building, you turn to Jay and hesitate a little, unsure of what to say. Glancing at him, it looks as though he’s feeling the same way. A silence falls over the two of you.

Finally, Jay speaks. “Goodnight,” he says, pulling you into a hug.

Despite your surprise, you wrap your arms around his waist, holding him close. You hope he can’t feel the way your heart is racing. Or the way it starts to pick up when you catch a whiff of his scent. Warm and cosy, tempting in a strange way that you can’t quite put your finger on but you like all the same.

When Jay lets go of you, you look up at him almost instinctively. You don’t mean to stare at his lips but you do, gulping at how close they are. You want to kiss him. Not any more than usual, but the urge is there. “Goodnight,” you say, taking a step back and walking up the path to the door.

Using your key fob, you unlock the door, turning to look over your shoulder and thankfully finding Jay still standing there, watching you with a stomach-turning smile on his face. “I had a really nice time tonight,” you say, smiling back.

“Yeah?”

You nod. “We should hang out more.”

“I think so too.”

“Cool,” you smile, biting your lip. “Goodnight, Jay.”

“Goodnight, YN.”

“Could you, text me? When you get home, so I know you’re, like, safe.”

Jay beams at you, nodding his head. “Of course.”

After a week (eleven days) of texting and hanging out with Jay when you can, you find yourself spending 3 hours of your Friday afternoon taking notes in your Sustainable Development lecture, and coming to the realisation that none of the course content is relevant to the report you’re trying to get through.

Seeing Jay leaning on the wall outside your class when you leave is a welcome surprise; he wears a thin pair of glasses and a smile that makes your heart stutter a bit as he stands up straighter, greeting you when he sees you and quickly falling into your step. “I meant to ask you earlier, are you going to the game on Saturday?” A beat passes. “Football,” he clarifies. “First home game of the season.”

“Maybe if my friends are going.”

Jay seems to think about this for a moment as you round the corner at the end of the corridor and he holds the door to the stairwell open. “After you.”

You mumble a thank you and count six steps before he speaks again.

“I’m going,” Jay informs you, his hand meeting the back of his neck to scratch awkwardly at it. “I mean, I’m gonna be on the pitch but.. I’ll be there.”

A breathy laugh slips from your lips at this added information; how sweet of the football team’s captain to let you know that he’ll be at his team’s football game on Saturday. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I just think it’d be cool to see a friendly face in the crowd when I score the winning goal.”

Given Jay’s unending kindness, you imagine that most of the faces in the crowd — or at least the ones from your uni — will be friendly, especially if he scores the winning goal. The thought causes a smile to itch at your lips as you consider that maybe he means that it’d be cool to see your friendly face in the crowd. And who could say no to that?

The rest of the conversation goes smoothly and Jay slows down when you reach the second floor. “I have some admin shit to work out, but I’ll see you at the game?” he asks, watching you with hopeful eyes and chewing on his bottom lip.

Knowing full well that you’ll be there, you pretend to think about it for a moment. “Maybe.”

Jay chuckles at this, tilting his head. “Please?”

“Maybe,” you repeat, despite already planning your outfit. Did you wash your white shirt or will you be doing laundry tonight? You wave at Jay when he waves and make your way down the rest of the stairs while clicking mindlessly through Instagram stories.

Nothing interests you until you reach IG user onyourm__ark's story; a picture of IG user 39saku_chan in his football jersey. You hit the like button and pretend to believe that the song choice (Infrunami by Steve Lacy) was made purely out of sheer enjoyment of the artist’s early work.

With a smile on your face, you text the group chat to solidify your weekend plans.

you: are u going to the football game tmrw

cw: not even if u paid me

yj: hard no

yj: i’m going to the party AFTER the game though

yj: why?

you: it’s nothing dw

cw: ???

you: jay invited me..

The chill of October’s first evening is unkind on your face as you sit amongst the rowdiness of drunk uni kids, cheering and groaning in unison as the game trudges on, and somehow Kazuha manages to sleep through it all with her head on your shoulder.

“Fuuuuck,” Yunjin groans, shivering in the seat next to you. “I hate sports.”

“Says the captain of the hockey team,” you say, voice coming out muffled behind the top of your jacket.

“Playing and watching are, like, completely different.”

You’re sure Yunjin’s right, she has to be, but you have to admit that there’s something more than slightly entertaining about watching a group of boys chasing a ball around and yelling expletives at one another, all while number 99 keeps a huge grin on his face, laughing at his teammate’s temper. Or lack thereof.

However, the novelty wears off at around 8:45 when the ref calls for half-time; a chill runs down your spine as you’re struck with the realisation that university football games are full-length. But other than Yunjin’s teasing, there’s no use pretending that you hate the sight of Jay lifting the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.

As the players retreat from the pitch and some students start to clear the stands, Yunjin gets up to stretch. She hums along to the song playing while you watch from your seat with aching knees, slightly envious and trying not to move too much and wake up Kazuha who sleeps soundly on your shoulder.

With her arms above her head, Yunjin lets out a yawn. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but I’d really rather be doing a reading for marketing than be here any longer.”

“And I’d rather be helping you out,” you say, frowning a little when Kazuha stirs. “Hey, what do you think they do during half-time?” you ask distractedly.

She thinks about it for a beat, eyes flicking to the pitch before looking back to you. “We usually strategise, use the bathroom, get water — quick things like that,” she says, raking a hand through her hair, watching as you shift a little in your seat to get your phone from your pocket when it vibrates. “They have a lot longer than we do though.”

jay: are you having fun?

you: yeah you guys are great, good game so far :)

Yunjin scrunches up her nose as she reads the exchange. “God, you’re so boring,” she sighs, taking the phone from your hands, and typing something before showing the screen to you.

“We should link at the party later,” you read, scoffing as you take it back and delete the message. “I’d never say that.” In those words.

jay: hahaha i think you might be my good luck charm

A dramatic gasp comes from a now-awake Kazuha. “Don’t reply!”

You heed this advice, joining her as she stands up to stretch as well.

“Look how much fun they’re having,” Kazuha sighs, pointing over at Sakura and Chaewon in their seats close to the pitch. They dance along to the music blaring through the speakers and laugh so loudly you can hear them despite their distance. “Why didn’t we join them?”

You think about it for a bit, filled with regret. “At the time, pregaming before the game and then pregaming again before the party seemed intense but..” you trail off, watching your friends clutch their stomachs in laughter. “Next time.”

“Next time,” Kazuha repeats, slouching in her seat. “I’m clearing your drink supply when we get back.” There’s a frown on her face when she speaks but she’s quick to perk up at the sound of your text tone, grabbing the phone for herself.

jay: are you coming tn? got a feeling that congrats will be in order

you (technically kazuha): wouldn’t miss it !!!

“Three exclamation points? I’m not that desperate,” you say defensively, nudging her in the ribs.

As if on cue, Yunjin reads another text. “I saw his notes again, his handwriting is so cute and ugly, agh I’m literally clutching my chest, he’s perfect,” she says, her voice high-pitched and mocking.

Hearing your typed words out loud from someone else’s mouth is troubling, especially because “It never seems that bad when I’m typing,” you frown, immediately checking your phone when it goes off.

jay: awesome :) see u there

jay: !!!

The game’s second half goes by much quicker and in the end, they lose 5-3, leaving you and Yunjin struggling to keep your laughter to yourselves at the sight of the FIRST W OF THE SEASON banner hanging up in the living room of the house that most of the footballers share. With linked arms, the two of you make your way to the kitchen to get something to drink. Already feeling the buzz from pregaming, you settle on a cup of lemonade which Yunjin rolls her eyes at.

“Shut up,” you say, eyeing her over the rim of your cup.

Yunjin holds her hands up defensively, spilling a few drops of her tequila-vodka concoction. “I didn’t even say anything.” For a couple of minutes, you pretend to listen as Yunjin tries to come up with a game plan for the night, nodding and humming along when she pauses, and trying to decipher the animal code names she’s using. A gasp. “I see him! Black cat and penguin sitting out on the half wall.”

You watch as she leans over the sink to get a closer look out of the window. “I feel like saying exactly where they are makes the code names redundant.”

“I feel like you’re redundant.” A beat passes. “Just be yourself, and if he says something funny, laugh and put your hand on his bicep while you do.”

“Noted.”

Yunjin doesn’t let you go outside without taking a sip (or three) of the poison in her cup, and after you gag over the sink, the two of you make your way into the garden, sights set on the half wall where “black cat” now sits alone. A potent mixture of the scent of tobacco and weed hits you the second you open the back door, and the two of you leave the house to make a beeline to Jay, apparently to Yunjin’s displeasure, given the way she asks you three times to play beer pong with her when some of the basketball boys start setting up cups for the next round.

“No,” you say. Three times.

As if sensing your presence, Jay whips his head around right before the two of you reach him, a bright smile gracing his face as he waves at you with his whole arm. He seems to glow against the darkness of the night, bright, dreamy, an unreal quality that leaves you feeling fuzzy around the edges. Jay, you think, over and over and it starts to sound made up. Jay. Jay. Jay. Until you reach him. He stands up when you guys are close enough. “You’re here,” Jay says with a smile, pulling you into a hug. With his arms around your waist, his hold is somehow both tight and gentle. Secure. Safe.

“Hey,” you say, voice muffled by the fabric of his hoodie. A whiff of his scent hits you, flooding your senses. Fresh, citrusy, and undeniably Jay. A dizzying combination, so light, and distinctly him in a way that makes your heart beat a bit faster.

When Jay lets go of you to hug Yunjin, you take the last sip of your drink and almost wish you’d taken her cup instead; your lemonade is sweet to the tongue but does absolutely nothing to boost your confidence. You watch as they greet each other while Jay sits back down. Standing in front of him with your arm against Yunjin’s, you feel as though you've missed the window to sit down too and opt to continue standing next to her.

“We like your banner,” you say, pointing in the direction of the house behind him.

Following your finger, Jay lets his head whip around towards the back of the house. Yunjin uses the time he spends looking over his shoulder to nudge you, nod her head in his direction, and mouth the word “sit” at you. So you do.

If he’s surprised to turn back around barely a second later and find you right beside him, Jay doesn’t show it. He gives you a warm smile and knocks his knee against yours before speaking. “What, first w of the season?” He tilts his head. “And here I thought you were a good luck charm, twenty,” he says with a chuckle when you nod.

Yunjin’s brows raise, and you feel yours rise too. “Twenty?” she asks.

“The hockey jacket,” he answers without missing a beat. “Speaking of, when’s your next game?”

“Oh, we’re playing the Foxes next week,” Yunjin rakes a hand through her hair. “TDU, you know?”

Jay nods, turning his attention back to you. “Can I look forward to seeing you on the field, twenty?”

Tilting your head, you pull air through your teeth. “You know what, I actually just got benched, like, right now,” you say, liking the way Jay laughs. “I’m out for the rest of the season.”

After clapping a hand to his mouth, Jay points at you. “Did they get you on a drunk and disorderly after the mixer?” he asks through a laugh.

In horror, you watch while Yunjin’s head falls back with laughter as she lets out cackles that only unsettle you. “That’s exactly what happened!”

“I was not.. disorderly,” you say meekly, finding sudden interest in the hem of your skirt.

It sounds as though Jay says: “You didn’t tell her how she got back home?” though you’re finding it difficult to focus on much other than trying to recover your missed hours after the hockey mixer.

You’ve gone on countless nights out, spent many mornings after vowing never to drink again, and, on multiple occasions, have gotten too drunk to enter the club. But even then, in the past, your memory has only ever been.. spotty, nonlinear. Never completely void for hours at a time, and it’s concerning. After tonight, you really won’t drink again.

Except on birthdays.

And when you go to the club. Or to parties. Or when you’re bored with the girls. But again, apart from that? Never.

“How did I g—” you start, though Yunjin cuts you off.

“I think Zuha’s lifting her leg again, hold on,” she groans, looking over Jay’s shoulder at the glass doors leading to the kitchen. Yunjin disappears back into the house and it’s not until you watch her slide the back door shut behind her that you remember Kazuha having too much to drink at pres and having to stay in with Chaewon.

When you look at Jay, he watches you with knitted brows. “Kazuha’s doing what?” he asks.

“Ballet,” you explain. He nods.

Neither of you speak for a moment. While you chew on the inside of your cheek, you can’t help but wonder if you should’ve followed Yunjin, or if you should’ve had less to drink at the mixer. You reckon the fact that Jay’s still talking to you must mean you didn’t do anything that you can’t recover from, but you can’t shake the feeling that your trip home that night was less than pleasant.

“Hey,” Jay says quietly, catching your attention with concern lacing his features. “What do you look so down for?” he asks.

Though terrified of the answer, you repeat your earlier question. “How did I get home?” you ask, wondering if the Earth usually opened up to swallow people whole or if you’d have to put in a special request.

Jay licks his lips, using his hand to push your shoulder playfully. “I have no idea,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “I was talking to Yunjin at the library on Tuesday, I think, and she told me you can’t remember anything. I just wanted to freak you out.”

You feel heat under his touch and relief from his words, though something about him talking with Yunjin seems to jostle you slightly. “Yunjin was at the library?”

Briefly, what looks like disappointment flashes across Jay’s face, replaced quickly with a pretty smile, light, playful. “You care more about Yunjin being at the library than me asking your friend about you?” he asks.

“You were asking my friend about me?”

“Yeah, I think you’re cute,” Jay says sweetly, smiling at you in a way that makes your cheeks burn even when you look down at your lap.

There’s something about the way he says it, so casually as if telling you the time or today’s date, that throws you off. It doesn’t make any sense to you that some of the most vivid sensations that Jay makes you feel are just that: sensations. You know that your stomach doesn’t actually have butterflies in it and that your heart isn’t really twirling in your chest, but it sure feels like it. You wonder if he also feels like that sometimes. You earnestly hope that if he does, it’s because of you.

He seems nearer than before when you look at him, and for fear that you might kiss him if he gets any closer, you bring your empty cup to your lips, lean back a little, and pretend to sip. Its emptiness isn’t lost on Jay, however, who chuckles, asking if you want a refill. While walking towards the house, you listen as he tells you what the team normally get up to during half-time (mostly strategising and pretending not to hear Heeseung’s snores), and silently beg your cheeks to cool down. His hand is heavy on the small of your back as he ushers you inside first, sliding the door shut behind him, and gently pushing you towards the kitchen island.

You let yourself lean against the counter, ignoring the fluttering in your stomach as you watch him reach for a visibly sticky bottle of your favourite drink without asking what you’d like. Though before actually touching it, his eyes widen. “Wait, I have something for you,” he says, holding out a hand for you to take. “Come on.”

Jay weaves his fingers with yours, leading you through the house and up the stairs into a bedroom. He closes the door gently behind you, stepping over a couple of backpacks before sitting on the end of the bed, and tugging at the zipper on one of them.

For a moment you watch as veins appear on his hands and have to physically tell yourself to drag your eyes to anything else, eventually settling on the walls. Walls that are covered in countless glossy 4x6 prints, some shots of landscapes, groups of people, out-of-focus beer bottles and.. “You have a lot of photos of Mark Lee in here,” you comment, scanning the room around you. “And it doesn’t look like you’re.. in any of them,” you continue as you notice a grainy polaroid stuck to the wall next to the light switch — a picture of Mark making out with his best friend, Sakura “give me a break, a boy and a girl can be just friends” Miyawaki, and make a mental note to bring it up later.

Jay glances at you as if you’re the one sleeping in a Markkura shrine. “Yeah, ‘cause it’s his room,” he chuckles. “You can sit down, you know,” he adds after a beat, moving over a bit on the bed.

With a nod, you look at some more of the pictures as you make your way over to the spot next to him, a photo of Mark and Jake with their middle fingers to the camera catching your eye. And holding it for so long that you trip a little over one of the backpacks before sitting down and pretending nothing happened. Thankfully, Jay doesn’t seem to notice.

“It’s not much by the way, don’t get your hopes up,” he warns, his hand still hidden by the fabric of his bag.

“Got it.”

Despite his earlier disclaimer, he makes a show of the whole thing. “Ta-da!” His voice is a little singsong as he brings the obje—bottle of Smirnoff Ice into view.

“Thank you?” The bottle is cold in your hands when you take it from him, reading the ABV 4% on its label and wondering how many of these Sunghoon must have had to drink to have been stumbling the way he was that night. You also can’t help but wonder what reason Jay has for buying you a bottle and then taking you into the privacy of Mark’s bedroom to give it to you.

“Yeah,” he trails off a little, letting his hand come up to scratch the back of his neck. “You looked pretty crushed the other night when Heeseung finished that one bottle.”

You can’t help the scoff that comes out. “Crushed? I mean, I might’ve frowned.”

“Frowned? You were near tears, I was worried about you.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious, every time I looked at you, you had this.. upset look on your face.”

“Well, maybe you should stop looking at me so much.”

Jay’s eyes sparkle under the light, flicking back and forth from your eyes to your lips as he brings a hand up to your face, tucking some hair behind your ear, his fingers hot on your skin, unmoving. His eyes lock with yours. “Come on,” he says in a low voice. “You know there’s no stopping that.”

A smile tugs at your lips. Jay bites his. His gaze drops back down to your mouth. Lingers. And in what almost seems like an alcohol-induced hallucination, he leans in. Slightly. As if testing the waters. As if waiting for a sign that you want him to stop. A sign that you want him to continue. Anything. His hand is heavy on your cheek when he cups it in his palm, skin rough against yours.

Mere inches away, Jay’s lips seem more tempting than ever. Separated only by the distance of a breath and your nerves, you try to settle yourself. To put your heart at ease. But how could you relax when he looks at you like that; his gaze soft, tender, all of his attention on y—The bottle slips from your hands, cool against your thighs, reminding you of its existence. Jay flinches when you do.

“Let’s have a drink!” you suggest, though the absence you feel when he takes his hand from your face makes you wish you hadn’t.

“Sure.”

The cap screws off the bottle with a few satisfying clicks, and Jay, amused, shakes his head when you offer him the first sip. “After you,” he says.

Without a second thought, the bottle touches your lips and the sweet, sweet taste of Smirnoff Ice touches your tongue, coating your mouth and leaving you wishing the alcohol content was higher.

“Do you mind if I put my lips on it?” he asks while you pass the drink to him.

You shake your head, determined not to think of a double meaning, and watch as his lips connect with the bottle’s opening, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat while he drinks. When Jay pulls it from his mouth, he lets his tongue dart out to wet his lips. You wonder if it will taste different in his mouth, if his lips, wet from the drink, taste as sweet as they look.

Now that you realise you’ve shared an indirect kiss, you kick yourself for passing up the chance at a direct one, deciding that if you want him to kiss you, you’ll need to get closer. Step up your game a little. Maybe you’ll say something about his necklace, ask to get a better look.. And hopefully, he’ll take the hint and kiss you because you’re not really sure what else you could say.

Of course, you could opt to skip words altogether, taking his face in your hands, and pressing your lips to his. You’re sure that’s what Yunjin would do. And you’re sure that would be her advice to you if you asked her.

Jay hands the bottle back to you and you close it, determined to feel his lips on yours if it’s the last thing you do. And you quickly open the bottle again, one last sip for good luck. The soft laugh he lets out is breathy, and it’s hard to tell if the heat in your stomach is coming from the drink, or from the way you see him looking at you in your peripheral.

His straight teeth bite at his bottom lip, and he shakes his head when you offer him another sip. This time when you close the bottle, you do it for good, setting the glass on the floor so it doesn’t interrupt you again.

“I really like your necklace,” you say, off to a good start, following the plan.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Aw.. thanks,” he says, choosing now, of all times, to stop being a conversationalist.

In the quiet of the room, you realise that you hadn’t planned anything beyond the compliment. You let your eyes focus back on the charm hanging from his neck, trying to picture him with a fishing rod in his hand, and wellington boots on his feet. It doesn’t really work. “I didn’t realise you were so into fishing,” you blurt out, and the way he knits his brows together makes you wish you’d just grabbed him and planted a kiss on the lips he purses to the side while watching you.

“Me?”

“Yeah you, with your cute little hook on a chain.”

Jay squints at you. “Hook on a chain?” he repeats.

You let a hand reach up and press on the hook pendant on his necklace.

His shoulders rise and fall dramatically as he sighs, his hand coming up to wrap around yours, holding it to the base of his neck as the small (not) hook warms in your fist. “Why does everybody think it’s a hook?”

“It isn’t?”

“It’s the letter J.” He lets go of your hand to lift the charm. “See?”

You squint your eyes, leaning a little closer to him, gaze fixed on the little gold hook letter sitting near the base of his neck. “Ohhhh, right,” you say, but even from a few inches away, it still looks like a hook, and from this close, you can hear the way his breath hitches in his throat.

With an inhale, you find yourself lingering. Sticking around just long enough to make out the woodier notes of his cologne before moving back a little. Finally, you draw your eyes away from his neck, wanting to meet his gaze but finding yourself stuck on his lips instead. They sit slightly ajar, pink, pretty, sort of chapped in the way they always seem to be. His breath tickles your forehead. You sit straighter, noticing the way his eyes burn holes into you.

“Quit staring,” you mumble hypocritically.

Jay’s brows quirk up for a split second as he sits back on his hands. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Well, you’d have to be staring at me to know.”

“Do you want me to stop staring?”

He seems to consider this for a second before shaking his head. “No,” he tells you.

“What do you want then?” Your voice is soft when you ask.

“I wanna kiss you.”

Jay’s lips don’t move but you hear the word “really” being spoken out into the room like a question. Your voice doesn’t feel like your own and doesn’t fully register until Jay says: “Yeah,” so softly that it’s practically a whisper.

Jay wants.. to kiss you. You feel your breath catch in your throat and it seems even more ridiculous to think it than to have heard it from him. To see his lips move to form the words. I wanna kiss you, he’d said. You’d heard it. You’d seen it. It happened. He wants.. to kiss you.

“Do you want me to do that?” he asks, leaning in slightly, his hand rising to cup your cheek. Slower, gentler than last time.

You let your gaze meet his; regret flooding you immediately. Just as kind and soft as the rest of him, Jay’s eyes stare into yours, warm, and inviting, but, still, you can’t shake off your nerves. More than anything, you want to say yes; to say of course, can’t you tell? but you don’t trust yourself enough to open your mouth and speak to him. Instead, you nod, so slightly that for a moment you wonder if he even noticed. And then, there, in the dim privacy of Mark Lee’s bedroom, while your heart beats out of your chest, Jay kisses you for the first time.

His lips are warm against yours, the sweet taste of Smirnoff Ice only amplified as he holds you close. Soft, gentle, kissing Jay is everything you’d imagined it would be. You feel as though you might melt under his touch as his hand grabs your waist to pull you closer. So close that you’re nearly in his lap as he deepens the kiss, his tongue moving along yours.

It doesn’t feel real, it can’t be.

As if thrown by your thoughts, Jay pulls away. While attempting to form a coherent thought, you catch your breath, once again, regretting looking at him. He looks down the bridge of his nose at you with half-lidded eyes, and his pretty, pink lips sit parted, wet and plump from kissing. Jay leans in almost immediately, the moment cut short by his lips on yours once again.

It’s tangible this time; you couldn’t possibly make up the way his hand grips your ass or the way he groans softly when you whine into his mouth. He’s real, and he’s kissing you, and you only feel yourself growing dizzier, and dizzier the longer his lips move against yours. A gasp pulls you out of it and the two of you separate.

Looking in the direction of the now open door you see Sakura and Mark hand in hand. You can’t help the slight embarrassment that hits you at first, hating that, of all people, it had to be Mark to walk in and find you making out with someone on his bed.

Though you get a bit distracted seeing him and Sakura like this, they look cute together. His football hoodie covers her form completely, much longer than the dress she has on, as she leans into him, and a giggle slips from her lips when he lets go of her hand to wrap an arm around her waist instead.

Somewhat belatedly, and needlessly, Mark apologises, his eyes focused on you when he speaks but you can’t get the words out to respond to him. Jay chuckles at this, shaking his head and telling him not to worry about it as he stands up from the bed. You follow suit. Jay picks up your drink from the floor and takes you by the hand, telling Mark he’ll text him later while leading you out of the room. When you glance at Sakura, she’s grinning at you, mouthing: “Sorry,” before smacking your butt.

Jay hands you the bottle when the door closes, his hand slipping out of yours. A beat passes. And then another. He chews at his bottom lip. You clear your throat and the silence continues. It’s a shame to be standing around like idiots on the landing like this, you think.

“I..” he trails off, wiping his hands on his pants. He points over his shoulder with his thumb. “I should get back to the boys.”

Your heart sinks as you hesitate, unsure how to respond. Slowly, you nod. “Right, yeah,” you say.

“Later,” he mumbles, holding up his hand to wave stiffly at you before turning around to leave.

Deflated, you lean against Mark’s door while you search for your phone to ask Yunjin where she is. Maybe if you’d waited for a moment, you’d have seen the way Jay stopped at the top of the stairs to look over at you, seen the frown on his face when he saw that you weren’t looking at him. But instead, you read 2 texts from Yunjin.

yj: dude heso into u

yj: flirt more = hv fun upstairs

You spend the next three days pretending nothing happened at the party, avoiding Jay, and dreading going to uni. It’s just unfortunate that for you, pretending nothing happened looks like zoning out in the library while replaying the kiss in your head until your elbow slips off the desk. And avoiding Jay seems near impossible, given his tendency to show up everywhere. Or rather, your tendency to see Jay in everything.

Like the tiny little black cat you saw perched on the fence outside your apartment building, and the busker singing Harry Styles in the city centre. And the half-full bottle of Smirnoff Ice from that night that sits on your dresser with your perfume and jewellery, displayed with about as much sentiment as a trophy won at school for a random achievement.

Impulsively, you post a selfie to your Instagram story before hiding your phone under your pillow and leaving the room entirely, making yourself comfortable atop the kitchen counter and waiting for someone to come back home.

Chaewon gets home first, and quickly, arriving with a groan as she shrugs her jacket off and shuts the door behind her. “I hate uni,” she mutters. “I hate studying, I ha— Hey.” She jumps a little when she sees you in the kitchen. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, where’ve you been hiding?”

“My room.”

She nods, leaning comfortably against the doorframe. “You’re not going out tonight, right?”

You shake your head, amused by the look of relief that paints Chaewon’s features as she whispers thank God. “I’m gonna shower, and take a nap,” she informs you. “But when I wake up, it’s you, me, pizza, and whatever story Yunjin has from practice.”

“Can’t wait,” you say sincerely, stepping down from the counter.

With a wide smile on her face, she salutes you before dragging her feet to the bathroom. Completely endeared, you decide not to comment on the salute even though you think it’s sweet that she’s starting to copy her boyfriend.

The sounds of student housing on a Wednesday evening seep in through the open window as you pour yourself a glass of water, unable to stop wondering if Jay saw your story; and what he thought about it if he did. Wondering if he’d notice that the picture was from Saturday night.

Filling up your glass again, you take it to your room and pull your phone out of hiding. Along with a message from Yunjin telling you and Chaewon to order your food so it comes shortly after she gets home, you find that Jay hit like on your story. Then sent a reply ten minutes later saying: you’re sooo gorgeous.

With a smile on your face, you type out various forms of “thank you so much, you’re perfect,” before settling on a simple: thank uuu :D, and Jay’s response is immediate.

jay: i don’t think i’ve said that before

jay: how prettty i think you are

The heat that rises to your cheeks is troubling, yet despite your best efforts, you can’t get it to pass. Especially not when you read and reread Jay’s message. You press your eyes shut, willing the heat to pass, willing the grin on your face to fade. Neither works, in fact, they only worsen when you open your eyes to see the new messages waiting for you in the chat.

jay: it’s a lot bte

jay: *btw

You let out a romcom-worthy sigh, clutching the phone to your chest and laying down on the bed. A glow-in-the-dark sticker stares back at you from its spot on your ceiling, a single star that you’d won as a set of two at the arcade with Kazuha in December. The memory brings a smile to your face, even though you remember being a little annoyed after she turned down the other star when you tried giving it to her.

Another message from Jay makes your phone vibrate in your hands.

jay: sorrry

you: it’s okay

You tell him. Even though you’re not sure what he’s apologising for. Just like before, Jay reads the message immediately though this time his reply never comes.

With Yunjin now home from practice, and freshly showered, you sit on the couch with your flatmates, talking and laughing over the sound of the TV for hours until Netflix asks if you’re still watching, and Yunjin’s passed out with her cold, wet hair on your shoulder.

Pressing a wet kiss to your cheek, Chaewon retires to bed, whispering “Goodniiiiiiiiight,” in your ear before abandoning you. Tired as you are, a part of you feels bad about waking Yunjin so you decide to sit a while longer, moving the blanket from your lap to cover her up properly. But of course, this is the movement that wakes her up.

In a soft voice, you tell her goodnight, standing up from the couch to stretch your arms above your head.

“You never told me what happened on Saturday,” Yunjin says tiredly. “Kkura told me you and Jay were busy in Mark’s room.”

The mention of his name takes you back to that night. Back to Jay and the way his lips felt against yours, the way his hand held your waist, and the way he’d ditched you outside Mark’s room. A pit forms in your stomach; and as if reading your mind, Yunjin asks if you’re okay.

You sit down on the other end of the couch, bringing your knees up to your chest and telling the story from top to bottom. After recounting the night in detail from after she left you guys alone, you find yourself hyperaware of the differences between you and Yunjin. For you, the highlight of Saturday night was Jay kissing you and then running away after.

“Wait, Sakura and who?” she asks when you’re done.

For Yunjin, the highlight of the story seems to be Mark’s presence.

“Mark.”

“She told me she went on her own, what were they doing?”

Although you have some idea, you think it best to keep your knowledge to yourself. “They were looking for her phone,” you say, pleased to see that Yunjin accepts your answer and moves on.

“So then what?”

“He texted me hey on Sunday morning, which I ignored, and then a couple hours ago he replied to my story and told me how pretty he thinks I am,” you say, pausing to take a breath. “Then ignored my response.”

Yunjin sits silently, seeming to take in everything she’d just been told. Her eyes are focused on the TV screen ahead so you look over at it too. It had gone into standby mode, displaying nothing but an indistinct impression of the two of you.

And the silence continues.

In the TV’s cast, you can just about make out the way she tilts and then turns her head to look at you. “Maybe he’s just.. frazzled, or something, from being walked in on. How did you feel?”

The answer takes a while to come up with because for you, the night exists in two parts — Before kissing Jay, and everything else that happened when you left the room. This whole time, you’ve been so focused on him leaving, that you’ve barely given any thought to how you felt when Sakura opened the door. Frazzled, you think. Probably the best word to use. Embarrassed suits a bit better though.

“I was embarrassed about it, but only because it was Mark. If it had been you, or Chaewon, whoever, it would’ve been different because they’d walk in and go “oh sorry” or something and leave, but obviously, when it’s Mark going into his own room, he’s there for something, you know?” you explain, chewing at your bottom lip.

“Maybe that’s how he feels too.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t embarrassing enough to leave and never talk to him again.”

Yunjin exhales heavily. “I want to be on your side, really, I do, but isn’t that kinda what you did?” she asks, her voice hesitant as she tilts her head. “He texted you the next day and you didn’t reply, what do you think he’s thinking about right now?”

“He’s the one who said he should get back to the boys.”

“What if that’s just because he spoke first?” she suggests. “Obviously we don’t know what you would’ve said if you spoke first, because you didn’t, but I feel like you would’ve been like “I-I’m gonna get back to the girls” and ran away.”

Always correct, Yunjin is your worst enemy and your best friend rolled into one. Oh, how you hate her. Well, she’s correct about the fact that you would have said the same thing. You think. You press your lips together in a straight line and sink into your seat.

She sighs when you don’t speak. “Look, he talked to you today, and told you how pretty you are, which is a win, right?”

You nod reluctantly.

“So let’s celebrate that, celebrate the fact that you kissed Jay! Even better, the fact that he kissed you.” Yunjin pauses, for what you think is dramatic effect, before speaking again. “Just.. don’t sweat the small stuff, okay?” She stops again to yawn. “And text him back if he reaches out, or, text him first.”

Leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom, you brush your teeth, watching as Yunjin does the same, sitting on the edge of the tub with her eyes shut. While gargling mouthwash, you think about the conversation you’ve just had and decide to take matters into your own hands. By pleading with God to put Jay in front of you and have him tell you that he likes you back.

Once again, the higher powers seem to be on your side. Kind of. Jay does end up in front of you to tell you that he likes you back. Kind of. But only after learning that you’ll have to start your report again; which, given that you’d only gotten through 800 of the required 4000 words, wasn't exactly criminal. It was an irritation that settled in you, mainly, as all of your research and the sources you’d found were now redundant in the face of such adversity.

Nonetheless, with heavy feet, you leave the lecture hall, trying to come up with a way to fake your graduation ceremony next year so you can secretly drop out. You draw a blank and find Jay waiting in line at the vending machine near the library’s entrance.

Even though you’d spoken with her on Tuesday night, here, today, on Friday afternoon, Yunjin’s words echo so clearly in your mind you almost want to peer over your shoulder to see if she’s there. You do. She isn’t.

Your formerly heavy feet lead you right over to Jay, who greets you with a smile. “How’s the report coming?” he asks, his tone light, easygoing, and clearly oblivious to the fact that his question strikes you like a knife to the gut.

The two of you shuffle forward slightly, now at the front of the queue. Waiting for your response, he punches E6 into the machine that rattles loudly, delivering his bottle of Lipton lemon.

“Not great,” you tell him, feigning nonchalance and watching as he presses E4 before squatting down to collect both drinks. “Are you heading to class?”

Standing up straight, Jay holds out the new(er) bottle of Lipton peach towards you. “What happened?”

Holding the drink in your hands, you fall into step with him and sigh despite yourself. “I have to start over.”

Jay’s eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly at your words. Dramatic. Cute. “Nooo,” he says sincerely. “How come?”

“I read the question wrong.”

“Oh,” he says. “That’s okay, at least you found out now rather than later. And you still have until December to get it done, that’s almost two months! I’m sure most people haven’t even read the question,” he tells you in a gentle voice.

There’s a fuzziness in your chest, and Jay’s words make you feel like everything will be alright. Even though you weren’t exactly cut up about the report, something about talking with him about it leaves you feeling soothed when you look up to give him a warm smile.

“I don’t have classes today, I’m just here to study,” he says, answering your earlier question as he leads you to a table.

You watch as Jay sits down, and decide to take a seat across from him, dumping your bag on the floor at your feet. His brows quirk up when you put the drink down on his side of the table, confusion evident in his voice when he says: “You don’t like peach tea anymore?”

All of a sudden your heart is pounding, and you grin despite yourself. Oh, Jay, you think. “It’s my favourite.”

Matching your smile Jay slides the bottle over to you. “It’s yours,” he says.

You can’t explain the overwhelming sense of gratitude you feel over a barely cold, 500ml bottle of tea, but it beams brightly on the table between you; radiant, glowy, the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. “Thank you,” you say sincerely in a soft voice, lest you knock the bottle out of its haze.

The deepest part of your brain romanticises the scene around you even further, and the table you sit at, in the smallest library on campus, starts to seem like something from a kid’s storybook. From a mythical land where the iced tea is luminescent, and you get to study with an angel who wears Chrome Hearts pants and olive green 6s.

“Can I read it when you’re done?” His question cuts through your thoughts. Surprised by how genuine Jay sounds, you glance back over at him to find him already looking at you, his lips pushed up into a soft smile that spreads flutters around your chest.

It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to realise what he’s talking about, but you tilt your head when you do. “You wanna read my paper on wind turbines and solar farms?” you ask.

Jay’s eyes widen briefly as if shocked that you’re even asking him that. “Of course I do,” he says, sounding almost offended, defensive maybe.

You eye him from across the table, sceptical. Jay seems to pick up on this. “Why wouldn’t I want to know about the UN’s advances towards net zero by 2030?” he asks, chuckling to himself when you raise a brow. He shrugs. “I got curious after you mentioned it.”

With burning cheeks, you watch him as he continues to talk, neither of you making any effort to start on the work you’re there to do. As much as you feel it’d be useful to get work done in the library — because it’ll allow you to go home and do nothing without guilt — you don’t see the point in half-assing your research and absentmindedly chatting with Jay, when you could ditch the research completely and fixate over the way his lips move to form his words.

“I lost my student card so I need to read while I’m in here. I think it’s better though; easier to stay focused, less distractions,” Jay tells you when you ask what brought him to uni just to study alone. “Usually,” he adds, gaze flicking up to meet yours with a teasing smile crossing his lips.

Jay’s words hold a flirtatious undertone that isn’t lost on you or the butterflies that take flight in your stomach. “I’m not a distraction,” you say, frowning slightly.

“I never said you were, but I had no problem getting my work done until you got here.”

Jay’s words remind you of your first test for Property Law in February. The two of you sat together at a table in the campus cafe, empty mugs and printed slides scattered across the space between you. For four hours, you highlighted sentences and rewrote notes to keep your hands busy until Jay walked you back to your flat, where you pulled an all-nighter so you could actually study. You got a 61 and slept for twelve hours afterwards.

“If it’s getting to you that much, I can go,” you offer, really, really, hoping he doesn’t take you up on it.

“No, please stay. I like spending time with you,” Jay admits with a slight downturn at the corners of his lips.

You try to work out how to echo his sentiment without sounding like a lovestruck fool, though you draw a blank, distracted by the way he– “Are you batting your lashes at me?” you ask through a chuckle.

Jay squints. “Is it working?”

You shake your head.

“Well, neither are you,” he points out, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that almost makes you feel scolded despite his light tone. You think you like it.

An overly dramatic sigh huffs its way out of your mouth as you roll your eyes at him, fighting a smile at the sound of his breathy laughter. “Whatever. Starting now, I’ll work on my paper. You focus on your reading, no distractions,” you suggest.

“Right, no distractions,” Jay repeats, his eyes falling to your lips.

Sticking to your word proves much easier than you’d initially thought and you manage to sit, mostly undistracted, for more than a little while, putting the paragraphs that can stay in italics, the bits that need to be amended in bold, and deleting the rest.

Your workflow is broken only when Jay speaks softly, “Is it cool if Heeseung works with us?” he asks, sending a text after you tell him that it’s okay.

And as if he’d been waiting around the corner, Heeseung shows up seconds later. “Jongseongieeeeee,” he coos when he sees Jay, extending a hand to pat his head and ruffle his hair.

Unable to hide his irritation, Jay’s face scrunches up at the interaction and in an attempt to stop the sudden attack, he grabs Heeseung by the wrist, seeming shocked when it works. You watch him fix his hair in his phone camera.

In the same playful tone, Heeseung says your name too, sitting down in the seat next to Jay. “I feel like I haven’t seen you since the hockey mixer.”

You can’t help the breathy laugh that comes out at the cute pout on his lips. “Because you haven’t seen me since the hockey mixer,” you say, smiling at Jay when you notice him looking at you.

“You weren’t at the football party, were you?” Heeseung asks, his eyes widening right when the words leave his mouth. “Riiiiiiiight, you were.” He mumbles to himself before covering his mouth with his hand. “I’m just..” he trails off, pointing at his laptop with his index finger before opening it and sinking in his seat.

There’s a nasty pit forming in your stomach while you watch Heeseung all but disappear behind his screen. And in the black screen of your laptop, you stare at yourself, pretending that: 1. The fingerprints and smudges don’t bother you, and 2. That you don’t notice the way Jay’s looking at you. Or rather, the fact that Jay’s looking at you. If you’d noticed the way he was looking at you, you might have picked up on the softness of his gaze. But you didn't, so you don’t.

Instead, the fact that Jay’s watching you only makes you feel worse. Though at least it looks like your hair is sitting nicely today, you think, glad to have at least one thing working for you rather than against you. Like the pit in your stomach, or the Lipton peach that tastes like nothing when you take the first sip.

In the presence of Heeseung - and the things he said - the three of you manage to get on with your work, free of conversation.

Reluctantly, you let the two boys walk you back to your place when you’re ready to go home. Heeseung leads the conversation, thankfully, with no more mention of the football party and even hugs you goodbye while Jay watches from a few feet away. Judging by the expression on his face, you’d think the person he’d liked for months kissed him and then ran away.

“Sorry,” Heeseung whispers, pressing his lips into a straight line.

With your key in the lock, you watch as they retreat, Heeseung nudging Jay when he reaches him and mumbling something that you can’t quite make out. Neither of the girls are home when you get inside and, sprawling out on the couch, you look for your phone to make plans.

you: we should go out tn

cw: tmrw ! i have a deadline

yj: broke friday or .. j*emins party

Too broke for broke Friday, the two of you find yourselves stepping over the legs of a sleeping Sunghoon to reach the open door to Jeno and Jaemin’s apartment. There are people everywhere, including the hall outside, but you suppose this is the benefit of student housing; none of your neighbours can complain about noise because they’re too busy being part of the commotion.

Jake almost spills his drink when he sees you both, saying “heyyyyy,” with a giggle and eyes that linger on Yunjin while he talks though he quickly excuses himself to take water to poor Sunghoonie.

The night is largely uneventful, much the same as every other night out you’ve had since starting college. Except for the part where Jay shows up,a massive grin on his face to greet your friends. Sakura, Yunjin, and Kazuha all get a “hey” and a brief hug. Jay regards you with a nod and a small smile. At least Kazuha seems to believe you when you tell her that you’re crying in Jaemin’s bathroom because you hate your outfit.

After a weekend of self-pity, you spend Monday at a coffee shop with Sakura, watching as she studi—“You could at least pretend to study, you know?” she sighs. “Every time I look up you’re either staring at me or using your phone, it’s distracting.”

With a frown on your face, you touch your mug to see if your coffee is cool enough to drink yet — it’s not — before flipping your notebook to a blank page and trying to write out some of the key points that you remember from Friday’s lecture. A part of you feels bad for neglecting your Architectural Practice class but it’s just not as interesting, and you tell yourself that you’ll dedicate all of your time to it after finishing your report. You definitely will not come to regret leaving three months worth of work to the very last minute.

You study with Sakura for a few hours until deciding that you simply cannot continue, and the two of you leave the cafe in favour of a Mcdonald’s drive-thru, eating your dinner in the dark parking lot before she drops you off.

On Tuesday night, you’re thankful that Yunjin and Kazuha don’t push you to go out with them when you say you’re tired, but when Netflix asks if you’re still watching Modern Family at almost 3 a.m., you wish they had.

You push yourself out of bed to do your skincare, and hear the two girls coming back home as you apply your last pimple patch. After Kazuha all but yells something about a huge pair of shoes by the door, it seems like they settle in the kitchen.

They’re sharing a bowl of cereal at the table when you get there. Feeling bad, you make instant noodles for them while Yunjin hugs you from behind. Both of you try your best to laugh quietly at Kazuha’s story about some box blond figure skater who completely blanked her when she tried flirting despite staring at her all night.

Once the food is ready, you sit up on the counter, watching them eat straight from the pot. Trying to talk to those two while they’re so invested in dinner is a waste of energy so you busy yourself on your phone instead, scrolling aimlessly until both girls kiss you on the cheek to thank you for looking after them. Kazuha gratefully drinks the glass of water you give her, and Yunjin, as you expect, is stubborn about it; taking three small sips before running away to her room.

The argument you can hear through the open window keeps you entertained as you wash the dishes, and you check your phone on the way to your room, finding two texts from Jay.

jay: i know it’s late but can we talk in person if you’re up

jay: it’ s important

They came in four minutes ago and you chew on your lip trying to figure out what he wants to talk about.

you: are you okay?

jay: can you come outside

With not even enough time to hit send on the three question marks you’d typed out, the distinct ring of a FaceTime call surprises you. Though what you find more surprising is the sight of your building’s door behind Jay’s face which just about fills the screen. Lit dramatically by an orange street light, he looks beautiful. Looks cute when his lips pout slightly around the words: come quickly and dress warm, as he successfully convinces you to leave the comfort of your bed.

Through the glass in the main door, you see him. With his hands stuffed in his pockets, he looks up towards the sky and puffs visible breaths into the air above him. Jay turns around at the sound of the door opening. You feel your stomach lurch because he doesn’t smile when he sees you.

“Hey,” he says after a while, watching you intently, inspecting almost, as you shut the door softly behind you. His face softens, the smile he hadn’t given earlier coming through now. “Are you wearing my jacket?” His voice is soft too when he speaks, breathy enough for the smell of alcohol and vague peppermint to hit your nose.

“I thought I should probably give it back,” you nod. “Sorry I kept it so long.”

Jay shakes his head, hair shifting on his forehead from the motion. “No, I love it on you. Please keep it,” he pauses, taking a step towards you. “I want you to keep it.”

Thank God, you think. You hadn’t really been meaning to give it back, and you weren’t really sorry to have kept it so long, it just felt like the right thing to say.

The space between you is so small that you wonder if he can hear the way your heart rate starts to pick up. In the time you hadn’t talked, you’d seen him around campus, in the corners of story posts, but seeing him here in front of you is almost overwhelming. A gust of wind ruffles the jacket Jay has on and his scent unfurls right under your nose; warm, lived in, mixed with faint sweat and what you think might be tobacco. It creates a musk that leaves you weak at the knees.

“It was milk and cookies night,” Jay continues when you don’t respond, digging into his pocket and holding a plastic-wrapped cookie out towards you. “You like white chocolate chip, right?”

Hearing that it was milk and cookies night makes you wonder if you’d been too hasty when you turned down the girls’ invitation.

Despite the cold, Jay’s hand is warm when your fingers graze his. Letting your touch linger, you thank him sincerely, touched by the little things he seems to remember about you.

Even though you’re aware of the other students coming home from various nights out, and end up having to move out of the way so some of them can enter your building, it feels like the two of you are in your own world. You notice that his sights are locked on the cookie, on the spot where your fingers touch, allowing you to admire him freely.

Standing almost directly under the lamppost now, you notice that his cheeks and the tips of his ears are dusted with red. You feel a little bad, he must be freezing, you think. Your gaze falls to his lips that sit parted, chapped like you expect, and now you’re thinking of kissing him.

Clearing his throat, Jay moves his hand from yours to put it in his pocket. You do the same.

“I know I said I wanted to talk, but I just wanted to see you,” he says, looking you right in the eyes. “I wasn’t sure you’d come if I said that.”

You frown, wondering if this whole time he’s been avoiding you because he thought you didn’t want to see him. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Jay only shrugs in response.

From over your shoulder, you hear the door opening. Jay’s eyes flicker in its direction. You turn your head to look too. A boy with pink hair frowns when both of you tell him you don’t have the lighter he’d been looking to borrow.

“I’m sorry about leaving after we kissed. And for avoiding you. That was stupid,” Jay says as soon as the door closes. “It was childish of me to do that instead of just telling you how I feel. I wasn’t gonna say anything, because I know you only see me as a friend, but I have to let you know that I like you, a lot.”

You stand around limply for a beat, staring up at Jay and trying to take in every single detail about this moment before you inevitably wake up. But this ‘dream’ doesn’t cut off where you’d been expecting it to. Instead, you feel your heart thudding against your ribs, your stomach flipping. The only thing you can get yourself to do is blink at the boy in front of you. The boy who likes you.

A lot.

“It’s just that, after Heeseung said that shit in the library and you couldn’t even look at me, I knew I didn’t have a chance with you and I just.. am trying to figure out how to be near you and pretend like I don’t want to drop everything and kiss you.”

“What’s stopping you?” you ask, surprised that your voice even comes out properly.

Jay’s gaze drops to your lips. Without noticing, the two of you had gotten so close that your chests are barely an inch apart; they’d probably touch if either of you took just one deep inhale. A beat passes. His gaze flicks up to meet yours and your breath hitches in your throat. You want to kiss him. You must. Right when you start to lean up towards him, to put your lips on his, he steps back.

“Fuck,” Jay mumbles, his brows knitting together as he shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”

The ability to hold his liquor is something that Jay sees as both a blessing and a curse.

On the bright side, he can drink as much as he wants and won’t say or do anything he wouldn’t say or do when sober. His delivery might be a little off when he’s drunk but the point still stands.

On the not-so-bright, catastrophically dim side, however, Jay wakes up the morning after drinking with a vivid memory of everything that happened to him at whatever party he’d been to. Plus a killer migraine.

And so, since drunkenly showing up at your place with a cookie in his pocket and his heart on his sleeve two weeks ago, Jay’s been quietly pitying himself and gently encouraging Jake to work harder on physics so he can get some sort of time machine up and running.

Though it seems like you’ve been able to go on as normal. So normal, in fact, that Jay starts to believe the whole thing was just an elaborate dream. So elaborate that when he scrolls through your text thread, he finds the messages that you’d ‘exchanged’ that night. He finds the thought of having developed self-awareness in a two-week-long dream to be a greater comfort than the reality that you don’t like him back.

You would have said if you did. Right? Or at least brought up what he’d said. Asked if you could talk about it. You’d be so excited to see him again, sober, that you wouldn’t even be able to say anything except: “I like you too!” Right?

But you haven’t. So unless you’re going through trauma-inflicted amnesia, or someone has finally come up with the technology to invent The Neuralyzer, you really don’t like him back.

Jay had been so sure, certain that you liked him back. It just seemed so obvious; like the way you seemed to find him at every party, and how anytime you saw Jake in the engineering block you’d ask about him. Surely it wasn’t all in his head. The way that Chaewon and Yunjin had been teasing you at the hockey mixer, and how Yunjin made up that excuse to leave the two of you alone at the football party. It was all so.. like-y.

Even today, when you texted him asking to hang out. He was sure that you were finally (finally!) going to tell him you liked him too. So sure, he’d even told the boys that he’d be coming back home as someone’s boyfriend. As your boyfriend.

But instead, Jay finds himself climbing the stairs of his apartment complex wondering how the fuck he’d been so delusional. In his back pocket, his phone vibrates. Twice. Texts; both from you.

you: i forgot to say but lmk when u get home lol

you: and if u have time to hang out before ur game tmrw !

His heart twists in his chest as he reads your messages.

jay: okayyyyyyyyyyyyy, i can chill for a bit

jay: what did you have in mind?

After fishing his house key from his jacket, he twists it in the lock and crosses the threshold before texting you once more: home now :). You heart the message immediately. The laughter that Jay could hear in the hall quiets as soon as he closes the door, and heavy footsteps thud towards the living room’s open doorway. Sunghoon.

“It’s Mr YN YL—” he stops short. “Oh.” It’s not until Sunghoon looks over his shoulder and shakes his head that Jay even notices the stupid shutter shades he’s wearing. And when Jay joins his friends in the living room, he smiles despite himself seeing the way they’d decorated the space. Streamers dangle from the ceiling, hand-drawn A4 posters with both of your names written in lopsided hearts are stuck to the wall, and Jay ignores the thought of losing the security deposit to appreciate his friends; they’re good to him.

On the way to his usual seat, an armchair in the corner of the room, Jay stops to wrestle a bottle of Desperados from the open six back sitting atop the coffee table and kicks a balloon that was in his path before sinking into his chair.

Knowing there’s no use giving them a play-by-play, Jay recounts the last few hours as briefly as he can. He makes sure to leave out small details; like how he felt weak at the knees when you hugged him and told him you loved him after he won you a Hello Kitty plushie from the claw machine that you swore was rigged. Or how you’d worn his jacket out and his heart started racing when he noticed that your perfume had started to mix with his cologne. Unexpectedly, the guys seem hooked on the story right until its end. “So it’s not like it went badly or anything, I just.. didn’t tell her.”

Somehow, all three of them speak at the same time: “What do you mean you didn’t tell her?”

Jay stares at a spot on the floor, noticing a hole in the toe of Jake’s sock. He’ll make fun of that later. “I just couldn’t get the words out,” he mumbles, shoulders drooping as he slumps further and further into his seat before taking the first sip of his bitter drink a—“Fuck, why does anybody drink these?”

“Cheap,” Sunghoon mumbles, scowling after sipping from his own.

Clearly.

“Unless I’m missing something, this doesn’t seem like the end of the world. Just tell her tomorrow, tell her now, text her,” Heeseung sighs, letting his eyes fall shut.

The other two boys seem to agree, echoing the sentiment and adding their own ad libs to it. Jay watches as Sunghoon leans over to get another drink from the table, admiring his commitment to beer drinking even though he doesn’t like it. He waits for silence before speaking again: “I already know she doesn’t like me that way. And it’s only been two weeks so it doesn’t make sense to confess again so soon when I know the answer.”

“Again?” Sunghoon asks, raising a brow.

Ahhh, Jay knew there was something he’d forgotten to do. Though he's struggling to figure out how he’d withheld this information, considering it was the main thing on his mind at all hours. “Yeah, after milk and cookies I went to hers and told her I like her,” he says, attempting to feign nonchalance, shoulders rising and falling in a stiff shrug.

“And you kept that to yourself because..”

Jay scrunches up his nose, genuinely unsure. “I didn’t go there to confess, I just wanted to see her and give her the cookie I got for her,” he admits. “But then she came outside, and she had my jacket on, and she just looked so pretty. The only thing on my mind was oh, my God, I can’t go any longer without telling you I’m in love with you.” Jay pauses, taking a long sip of beer before telling them what happened outside your building.

As if he wasn’t feeling bad enough already, Heeseung bursts out laughing. Hard. It’s not long before Jake and Sunghoon join in and Jay wants to vanish into thin air. Feeling slightly left out, he also wants to ask what’s so funny, but the fear of being slated holds him back.

It’s the eldest who calms down first, sitting up straight in his seat. “So you go to YN’s door, tell her you like her, almost kiss her, then explicitly tell her not to say she likes you back, run away from her, again, and you’re wondering why she didn’t say she likes you back?”

With the story being laid out so simply, Jay starts to see the flaws in his logic. Though too stubborn to admit that he’s wrong in front of Jake, he nods his head. “Exactly.”

He presses his lips into a straight line when the boys call him chronically stupid.

“You need to call her, talk to her, figure your shit out before it’s too late,” Heeseung says with a firm tone.

Jay thinks about it, biting at his bottom lip before replying, asking in a small voice: “But what if she says she doesn’t like me?”

As much as not having confirmation is killing him, there’s a part of Jay that likes not knowing how you feel about him because it lets him play into his delusions. Lets him feed himself with thoughts of you being excited to see him because you like him and not because he makes great platonic company. The thought of you checking up on him through Jake because you’ve been thinking about him, but feel too shy to ask directly. And Jay knows when you properly reject him, he won’t be comforted by such thoughts anymore. They’ll only hurt him.

Though after hearing what may be the wisest thing he thinks Sunghoon has ever said, Jay starts to see the situation a little differently. It’s casual. Spoken through a yawn. “You already don’t have a girlfriend. Nothing to lose, right?”

The walk to your apartment building is longer than he remembers, but the cool air feels good on his neck as he tries to figure out what exactly he should say. Jay only starts to consider that this may not be the best idea when he stands face to face with your apartment building and feels a little too nervous to buzz your flat. What is he doing?

A grating screech comes from the heavy door when it opens, and Chaewon’s boyfriend steps outside with squinted eyes. “Jay?” he asks as the door thuds shut behind him. “YN didn’t say you were coming over.”

An awkward chuckle slips from Jay’s lips and (for the first time in his life) he does jazz hands. “Surprise?”

Jay feels better when Jeno’s lips spread into a grin. “Ohhhh,” he says, nodding and extending an almost empty deck of cigarettes in his direction.

“I’m good,” Jay declines, shaking his head.

Though if things go poorly up there he might have to take Jeno up on his offer.

Holding his cigarette between his lips, Jeno uses a fob to open the door for him, and Jay can’t help but feel comforted by the way Jeno pats him on the back and says: “I’m rooting for you.”

Standing at the door to your apartment only unleashes a new sense of nervousness. His hand rests on it, balled into a fist, waiting to be pulled back. But something stops him. Jay lets his hand slip down the door and takes a step away from it. He’d been standing too close. Now, he stands shifting his weight from foot to foot, and the toes of his shoes are just touching the doormat.

Reminding himself that knocking isn’t the hard part, Jay takes a deep breath and knocks three times.

A few minutes pass and it’s now that he remembers he doesn’t even know for sure that you’re home, or awake. He counts ten seconds before knocking again and the second his fist touches the door, he hears the sound of a lock clicking and the door creaks open.

Like something from a dream, you stand in the doorway, looking so beautiful with his hoodie on that Jay has to put in effort to keep his jaw from falling to the ground.

“Jay?” you say quietly, brows furrowed. “Is everything alright?”

“Do you like me?” Jay blurts out, pressing his eyes shut immediately as all plans of a proper conversation go to the wind. From his spot on your doormat, he can hear the sound of the TV quieting and a terrible silence settles over the two of you; lasting eight whole seconds before you speak.

“Do you wanna come in?”

Jay steps into the apartment, taking off his shoes at the door while mumbling a greeting to Yunjin and Chaewon who (definitely heard him) lay on the couch with wide grins on their faces, and follows you to your room where you close the door behind him.

“Sorry, I had, like, a speech ready and then I saw you and I just..” he trails off, standing awkwardly near the door and looking at everything in the room except for you; he struggles to tear his eyes away from a polaroid picture of the two of you with huge grins. It’s only when you talk that he manages to look over at you instead.

“You can sit down,” you say, patting a spot on the bed next to you. Without saying anything, Jay crosses the room to sit beside you — if sitting at arm’s length can be considered as beside you. “Tell me about the speech,” you say, and Jay shakes his head while trying to convince himself that your chuckle isn’t patronising.

“Do you like me?” he asks again, not wanting to waste any more time.

“I like you.”

Your words, simple and quiet, leave Jay winded.

“You look surprised,” you say, tilting your head. “You really didn’t know?”

Immediately, he relaxes his face. Clears his throat. Jay’s not entirely sure what he did and didn’t know, but he doesn’t think it matters. Nothing could possibly matter more than you do right now. “Doesn’t matter,” he says, letting out a sigh of relief. “I like you too.” The words sound regular when he says them, though he does like the lightness in his chest knowing for sure that the feeling is mutual. “Can you say it again?”

“Jay,” you start, resting your hand on his knee. Jay wonders if this is supposed to comfort him and clasps his hands over his lap as discreetly as he can manage. “I like you,” you tell him again.

Under the weight of your words, Jay feels his heart cinch a little in his chest. Why does everything sound so perfect coming from you? He can’t help but lean in, finally kissing you after what feels like an eternity. Jay didn’t think anything would feel better than your first kiss, but having your lips move softly against his, and knowing that you like him back, might just be the best thing ever. How did he go so long without this? Dazed and lovestruck, he lets his forehead rest against yours to calm down, to catch his breath. “Again?” he whispers, hopeful, one step away from begging.

You let out a chuckle, soft, breathy, fanning his lips. “I like you,” you say after a while, quietly, a whisper, just for him before kissing him again.

Jay’s not sure when it happened, he’s not even sure he notices that you’re sitting in his lap until you grind down on him; the feeling overwhelming despite all of the layers between you. A whine slips from your mouth into his when he rolls his hips up towards yours, and he can’t help but hate himself a bit for not just confessing sooner.

You pull away from him, a smile on your face as he chases your kiss. “Please touch me,” you whisper, hiding your face in his neck when he chuckles at your request, calling you cute under his breath.

He feels oddly thankful that you’re not grinding on him any longer because he was about two more movements away from cumming in his pants. His hand slips under your shorts, finding your clit and pressing on it through your underwear, liking the way your breath fans his skin when you sigh. The wet patch on the fabric only starts to spread when he starts rubbing you. “You like that?”

“Yeah,” you tell him on an exhale, letting your hips roll against his hand, whimpering at the friction.

Your mouth quickly finds his again, and you let your hand clutch at his shirt, balling it up in your first before tugging at it, parting to take it off of him. With wide eyes, you gape at his torso, the word “Shit,” falling from your mouth while you let a hand rest on his stomach.

When he tries pushing your panties to the side, the soaked material sticks to your slit slightly, and Jay groans despite himself. You’re absolutely drenched in slick, sopping wet to the core as you let out a broken whine from the feeling of his finger slipping into you. Curling his finger towards your belly button, his eyes fall shut, cock throbbing against his thigh when he thinks about how you’d feel around his shaft, how you’d look under him.

“You’re so good,” you whisper, awestruck and trembling in his lap.

The way you watch him makes him feel a little under pressure when he opens his eyes, but, determined to make you feel good, Jay attaches his thumb to your clit and everything is so slick that his finger slips around a bit before he can help it. You squirm in his lap, your head falling forward into the crook of his neck, forcing Jay to hiss when you bite on the skin of his shoulder. Your whimpers turn into cries and you mumble that you’re close, your walls tensing around him a moment later as if to prove your point.

Jay pulls his fingers out, holding back a moan at the way they glisten in the light, coated in you— “Nooo,” you whine, sounding audibly distraught.

Though he’s too busy tasting your cunt on his fingers to grace you with a response. In the quiet of the room, you sit up properly to look at him, watching with parted lips as Jay sucks on his fingers, humming at the way you taste. You barely give him a chance to put his hand back down before pressing your lips to his, moaning into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue.

Getting a tight grip on your waist, he moves around a bit to lay you down on the bed. Resting on his forearm, Jay leans over you, kissing you again. He lets his hand trail down your body, liking the way you spread your legs when he dips his fingers into your waistband. You nod eagerly when he asks if he can take them off, and his cock throbs when you tell him to take your panties off too.

With no unnecessary fabric in his way, his finger drags up and down the length of your pussy. Already close, it doesn’t take long for you to start whimpering and squirming underneath him, your walls stuttering once again as you cum, hot and hard on his hand.

Ever the gentleman, Jay stands up to place himself between your legs, groaning at the sight of you, pulsing and wet. “Such a pretty pussy,” he says. Deciding not to waste another second, he uses his thumbs to spread your lips a little before burying his face in your cunt.

It doesn’t take much for you to writhe under his tongue, and as soon as he kisses your clit it’s a wrap. He feels his cock leaking a little when your clit starts to throb between his lips, and he can’t help but groan when you tug at his hair.

You stutter through the words: “Too much,” and Jay tears his mouth away from you, letting his forehead rest on your inner thigh while he catches his breath, savouring your taste on his tongue. It doesn’t last long though; your scent drives him crazy. When Jay leans back over your face, he presses kisses to your cheek, mumbling to you about how pretty you are, and how good you taste, all while playing with the drawstrings of your hoodie.

He likes the way it looks on you, way better than it does on him. Likes it so much, he almost objects when you sit up to pull it over your head. Jay’s glad he doesn’t. He gulps at the sight of your breasts, surprised to see that you weren’t wearing anything under his hoodie, his dick somehow growing harder just from looking at you.

Jay feels an intense desperation to suck on them, but your hands reach back up to his face, pulling him towards you to kiss him again. He settles (ecstatically) for holding one in his hand, pinching your nipple with his fingers. He’s relaxed, he’s happy; not torn up about it because he has all the time in the world to feel your tits in his mouth.

He thinks.

Jay pulls away from you. “Wait,” he says, feeling butterflies when you smile up at him. “Can I be your boyfriend?”

Your giggle sounds like music and he feels warm all over when you say, “Of course,” the words somewhat muffled by his lips on yours again, he could make out with you all day. But he stops for a moment, looking down at you, into your eyes and revelling in this moment. Revelling in you, his girlfriend, and the way you look at him. Like he put the stars in the sky or moved mountains; like you want him just as much as he’s wanted you all this time. And he wonders what he’s done to deserve it.

Overwhelmed by emotion, Jay kisses you, lets his tongue run along the seam of your lips as he considers just kissing you for the rest of the night. It almost seems like he’s trying to, and you speak once more against his mouth.

“Are you gonna fuck me?” you ask, moving your head to the side. “It’s okay if you’re not, but I’d like to know.”

Jay smirks at you — pretty cocky for a guy whose dick is throbbing against his thigh just from hearing you talk. “You want that?”

“Mhm,” you hum, nodding. “Need it.” Your gaze burns into his as he tries to process your words. You look distractingly beautiful with a thin sheen of sweat on your forehead, lidded eyes, and kiss-plumped lips that you press up against his once more. “There’s condoms in the second drawer.”

Leaning up off of you, Jay reaches into his back pocket to show off the two condoms he’d brought with him.

“Classy,” you tease, though there’s an excitement in your eyes that drives him mad.

“Responsible,” he corrects, standing up to pull his pants and underwear down. Slapping against his stomach, his cock throbs when he hears you gasp. Jay lifts his head in your direction, trying not to cum on the spot from the sight of you leaning up on your elbows, staring at his dick with an open mouth.

Taking a deep breath, Jay reminds himself that he has all the time in the world to find out what your pretty lips will feel like around him, choosing to busy himself with putting the condom on instead. “How do you want it?”

If the way you stop and stammer through the word “However” is anything to go by, the question seems to catch you off guard. Making his way back over to you, Jay racks his brain trying to figure out how he wants this to go, but seeing you on your back with your legs spread for him makes it clear. He hovers over you, lips drawn to yours like a magnet, using his hand to run the tip of his cock up and down your pussy, all while you whine against his mouth every time he pushes past your clit.

“Don’t want to wait any longer.”

Your words make his stomach turn. He pulls away, his brows knitted together. “How long have you been waiting?”

“Months, Jay,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, eyes screwed shut in a tortured expression. “Please.”

Satisfied with your answer, Jay guides his cock to your slit. Pushes just a little. “I won’t make you wait like that again,” he tells you, and he means it, pushing in as much as he can before you cry out.

Worried, Jay stops, leaning close to press a kiss to your cheek. “You okay?”

“I just need a sec,” you tell him breathlessly.

Jay nods. As good as he feels, quitting while he’s ahead seems like the better option at the minute — he needs a sec too, but with the way your walls clench around him, it doesn’t really feel like much has changed. He finds himself having to hold his hips back after a while, as you get used to the feeling of him inside, your pretty little cunt starts trying to suck him in and his breath hitches in his throat when you look him in the eye.

With a hand on the back of his neck, you pull his face back down to yours. “I’m good,” you mumble into his ear.

“Yeah?” he asks, grinning when you nod in response.

You stretch around him so easily that Jay whines as you take him in, deeper and deeper, inch by inch until he bottoms out. “Shit,” he mutters. How did he go so long without this? The sting of your nails digging into his bicep makes him hiss and he all but passes out when you moan. Falling from your mouth on a loop with every move he makes, his name is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard; you cut yourself off with a gasp, breath hitching in your throat.

“There?” Jay asks, even though he knows he’s hitting your spot.

You look up at him through fluttering eyelids, becoming more and more dazed each time his hips smack yours. “Mhm, I—close,” you mumble.

Jay takes this as a sign to hike your leg up around his waist, making sure to hit it each time he pumps into you. It seems like it’s working. “Cum for me, baby,” he whispers, using his free hand to push some of your hair out of your face.

Your whines turn into broken sobs and you hide your face in the pillow next to you, muffling your screams. Although he thinks your consideration for your flatmates is coming a bit late, he leaves you be, finding the sight sexier than he cares to admit.

Sexier still is the way your body tenses before squirming again, your walls pulsing uncontrollably around him while you cum. Jay’s stomach starts to tighten as he fucks you, spurred on by the look on your face as you orgasm, and the sound of his cock filling you up. With a few more thrusts and a jagged moan, he spills his load into the condom, just about collapsing on top of you.

Considering how fucked out and sleepy you’d been while Jay cleaned you up, he isn’t surprised to find you fast asleep when he gets back from cleaning himself. He does his best to join you in bed as softly as possible but it’s no use because you wake with a large yawn, making his heartache from a weird mixture of guilt and how cute you look.

He lays on his back, grinning to himself when you rest your head on his chest, making yourself comfy with an arm and leg slung over him. You talk drowsily about watching The Devil Wears Prada in full after his game tomorrow and nod eagerly when he asks if you want to wear one of his jerseys to come and watch him play. Jay keeps his eyes shut until he hears you snoring faintly, and looks forward to teasing you about it in the morning.

When he stares straight ahead at your ceiling, a fuzzy feeling rises in his chest. “I put my star on the ceiling too,” he whispers, knowing you can’t hear him, but feeling happy nonetheless.

Huddled up under Jay’s jacket, you sit on the half wall outside the football house with Chaewon, watching as Jeno blows smoke from his super king over his shoulder. Though given the way that the wind blows it back in your faces, the two of you may as well have taken him up on his offer to share.

Letting Chaewon rest her head on your shoulder, you take a sip of your drink and feel thankful to the version of you from five minutes ago who let Jay fill your cup with lemonade instead of vodka. The two of you laugh along with Jeno until you see Yunjin rushing out of the double doors and into the garden.

“Is there anything wrong with my outfit?” she asks, giving the three of you a twirl so you can check and mumbling a “thank you” to Jeno who reaches his arm out to stop her from falling over in the process.

Yunjin’s outfit looks fine. At first. Until you notice the massive hole in the left side of her skirt; the sight of which leaves you and Chaewon wiping tears of laughter. Through cackles and a slight stomach ache, you manage to ask what happened.

“I got caught on something, like, an hour ago, and I wasn’t hurt or anything so I forgot about it, and then I went out front and felt the craziest breeze on my thigh and I looked down and.. half of my skirt is just.. missing,” she explains, pausing only to take a draw from Jeno’s cigarette. “Does it look intentional at least?”

You almost choke on your drink when Chaewon suggests using her acrylics to make an identical hole on the side, telling her to market the holes as “cutouts” and try selling it on Depop.

“Vintage, Y2K, I.AM.GIA, Destiny’s Child, Britney Spears,” she says, although she’s had so much to drink that it all comes out as one word. “Don’t laugh at me, write it down! Babe, quick, take pictures!”

Yunjin poses dramatically while Jeno takes product photos on her phone, and in the space between them, through the double doors, you see your boyfriend standing next to the dining table, his friends laughing around him while he stares over in your direction with a sweet smile on his face.

And even though you can’t say for sure, you’re just glad that here, tonight, you have a pretty good idea of why Park Jongseong’s smiling at you.

permanent taglist: @asahicore

#jay smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen scenarios #jay scenarios #jay x reader #jay park smut #jay park #jay park x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #jay oneshots #jay imagines #enhypen hard hours #fic.jay

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agendabymooner · 8 months

Text

MASTERLIST: O-Z by agendabymooner

LINK TO MASTERLIST: A-N F1 DRIVERS by agendabymooner

LINK TO SOMETHING SINFUL (SMUT) MASTERLIST by agendabymooner (MINORS DNI)

note: part two of my masterlist!

legends/genre:

a = angst g = general fic hc = hurt/comfort h = humour

s = smut (minors, dni) mc = mature content (minors, dni) f = fluff

★ - newly added ♡ - favourite piece

esteban ocon (eo31)

the royal wildcard, smau: the british media's good at getting the juiciest details of gossip from the palace, but much to their dismay, princess albertine spencer followed the footsteps of her brother harry and had done an amazing job at hiding her marriage with a certain alpine driver for three months. (f, g, h)

the royal resemblance, smau: albertine ocon lived to give her estranged family something to talk about because of her physical appearance that could be confused with her mother's ghost. too bad, ditty ocon was born into the world with the same heart attack-inducing features.

ditty and estie greet the world, fic: diana 'ditty' ocon looked so much like her namesake but act more like her father with her shyness.

pato o'ward (po29)

caught 'em lacking, smau: diwa arellano is mclaren f1's social media admin. so what if her constant teasing of oscar bites her in the ass and accidentally posts something that could potentially compromise her job? meanwhile, lando and oscar laugh at her demise while pato finds it endearing.

sergio perez (sp11)

she's beauty, she's grace, smau: in which carmella ayala perez, the miss universe 2018 winner, tied the knot with checo after their five years of relationship and the birth of their second child.

oscar piastri (op81)

lomi and the piastri fiasco (filo!gen z!ofc)

jollibee, madrid and all that romantic fiasco, smau: paloma san pedro is carlos sainz's cousin-in-law who also introduced oscar to his newly found filipino fast food chain addiction. safe to say that he bought a ticket last minute just so he can obsess over her, too.

live tweets, japan and all that romance fiasco, smau: how oscar's podium win in the japanese gp led to the revelation of his relationship with carlos sainz's in-law, paloma. lesson learned: just call her "pal" then she'll spill the tea for the both of you easily (f, h)

lucky charms, qatar and all that romance fiasco, smau: oscar is quite a forgetful guy, he forgot to mention to carlos, his future in-law, that paloma was his sprint lucky charm. (f)

long distance, england and all that romance fiasco, smau: paloma moved to england a year after enduring a long distance relationship with oscar.

other pieces

12345sex, smau: oscar is secretly freaky and mercury nicoletta had to show him off at some point. ★

kimi raikkonen (kr7)

stop the world i wanna get off with you, smau: vera 'coppa' coppola-raikkonen is the only one who can make the iceman talk a lot. she's also the only one who can make the chatty versions of him as their three older children (romania, rooney and johann-lauri) make their presence known to the racing community. (f, g, h)

someone's dad, socmed snapshot: kimi being the coolest dad, a series. ★

daniel ricciardo (dr3)

rush series (x måneskin member!ofc)

honey (are u coming), smau: how lester alessandro got blocked by daniel ricciardo before meeting him in monza 2021. (h)

own my mind, fic: it took lester almost six italian grand prix races to come across daniel ricciardo once more. sure, she was hesitant to speak to him regardless of the fact that she was his fan but the mclaren driver was certain he’d rather cause a stir in the f1 community with her after his win in monza than celebrate his victory with a lot of people. OR the second close encounter between the two of the most unhinged people of f1. (g, h)

read your diary, smau: it's 2021 and everyone thinks that lester and daniel are dating. lesson learned: never underestimate a fan's investigation skills. (g)

mamma mia, smau: an interview with jimmy fallon gives a brief idea of how lester and daniel came to be. (g)

mamma mia (again), smau: a youtube playlist was created to compile clips of danny talking way too much about his beloved girlfriend (f)

gossip, smau: everyone thinks lester's only here to be a formula one girlfriend with a bad reputation. it's not her fault she's confident. (mc, hc, h)

kool kids, smau: lester and daniel are going to new york to see a musical... while babysitting their "kid" (feat. lando norris) (g, h)

timezone, fic: lester wasn't normally like this, but she's more than willing to pay twice the price just to get to the next flight to where he wanted her: his arms, her home. (hc)

if not for you, smau: messages exchanged between lester and others as she takes care of the wolff children and an ex with the poorest decisions to have existed. (feat. lando norris, max verstappen, charles leclerc and characters from a story) (f, g, h)

baby said, smau: many tweets are posted that they don't often mean. their fans thought that his marriage proposal was one of them. (f, g, h)

supermodel, smau: how not to cry when you're talking about the man who'd give you the wedding that you dreamed of? (f, g, h)

rush series: wedding special

london bridge, smau: the alessandro-ricciardo wedding week is nothing of a peaceful week, and the monday only proved that thought right. (feat. f1 drivers) (f, h) - wedding special 1

fergalicious, smau: the grid singles need to touch some grass… or in lando’s case, go swimming. (feat. f1 drivers) (h) - wedding special 2

l'azienda di famiglia (e le donnole dell'isola), smau + fic: the alessandro family arrived and lando and george found themselves alone with two of the sisters. (feat. lando norris and george russell) (f, g) - wedding special 3 ♡

rush series: mrs. ricciardo special

part of you, smau: mrs. lester ricciardo asks her followers what to get her husband for his 35th birthday. little did danny know, she’s already got one ready to surprise him (f, g)

when emma falls in love, smau: as her pregnancy progressed, lester ricciardo made sure that her sanity wouldn't go the other way as she posted a thread of journal entries talking about her pregnancy. (f, h)

slipping through my fingers, smau: beau ricciardo was his dad's carbon copy and his mom's little heartbreaker.

here comes the sun, smau: despite having a red bull driver dad, beau ricciardo - or "little par" - is converted to tifosi, thank god for his full-italian mother. OR lester ricciardo's one year old son and his chaotic dad attended a måneskin concert when the bassist returned to the stage after almost two years of absence. (f, h)

pocketful of sunshine, scenario: beau ricciardo turned one and what's a good way to show his personality besides from showing it in front of an irwin? ★

other pieces

leaked, smau: daniel ricciardo is a borderline blabbermouth. (filo!ofc)

when danny said, smau: daniel + sadie samuels = it feels just right. (country singer!ofc) ★

george russell (gr63)

his family and her lover, smau: eleanora 'nora' alessandro was more than happy for george's willingness to step up as her children's father regardless of how people poorly reacted on their relationship.

she's magic (youtuber!singer!ofc)

the multifaceted gf and her pets, smau: arabella 'ara' elgin is multitalented and her haters couldn't do much about it as she released a new song about her relationship with george.

carlos sainz jr. (cs55)

two worlds entangling (filipino!ofc)

ride home, smau: the ferrari driver accidentally outed himself as a married man, so mona magdalena sainz stepped in to say hi to his loyal fans. (f, g, h) (extra)

dear, smau: nobody loved each other more than magda and carlos sainz. OR a series of tweets in which magda and carlos never took each other seriously. (h)

pag-ibig, traducido (love, translated), fic: no matter what cultural context and backstories, magda and carlos' souls were entwined into one all thanks to the languages of love that they shared. OR times when the spanish and filipino defined their love in many languages. (f) ♡

logan sargeant (ls2)

he's her lobster, smau: eugenia 'genie' newton + logan sargeant = mondler (h)

mick schumacher (ms47)

big mick energy series (x filo!ofc)

she's everything... and he's just mick, smau: barbara 'barbie' blanco is the vettel family's foster child that gradually turned to kimi vettel's nanny and mick's crush? (f, g)

"besties", smau: everyone swore that mick and barbie are more than "babysitting pardners" (f)

who is kenough, smau: mick nearly took the piss from arthur leclerc after the posts that the monegasque had of barbie. too bad, mick was already hers before arthur could even try. (feat. arthur leclerc)

kenergy unfolded, fic: written version of who is kenough OR arthur leclerc was only scheming just so mick could do something about revealing his relationship with barbie. ♡

the vibing allan and the reluctant ken, smau: for mick, there are only two words to describe his girlfriend's best friend arthur: a headache. OR arthur leclerc is a third wheel that mick always get on a fight with. thankfully, barbie had fair experiences with boys who are petulant and childish at times (kimi and seb)

barbie and the schuminis

mick multiplied, socmed snapshot: girl dad!mick that's all

the little schuminis, fic: 4 times when mick showed his devotion + 1 time his devotion paid off

lance stroll (ls18)

gotta be you, smau: bora mckinnon made her presence known in the paddock one year after lance broke up with her. now, they're all over the media because of his presence in her three birthday celebrations. the question still stands: are they getting back together?

diors and diecasts, socmed snapshot: lance stroll is sassy but so was his carbon copy. OR according to him, his son was a victim of the only child apocalypse. he also said that while buying his son everything he could get his hands on. ★

yuki tsunoda (yt22)

line without a hook, smau: pia ellis misses her mystery bf that everyone thought to be her delusions. it turns out he's a formula one driver who definitely misses her too.

chaos family, socmed snapshot: yuki is a dad to the little mini yukis known as hana and shin.

max verstappen (mv1)

✿ to loathe and to love series - max verstappen x hearth sister!ofc (sylvie ford) ♡

to loathe and to love: extras (x ofc)

lost in japan, smau: just two lost souls (with a tour guide) travelling to japan to make up for the childhood they missed. (f)

the purple chronicle (x ferrari!ofc)

paint him red, smau: alfrieda 'dina' ferrari is the only woman who can mark him as a ferrari fan - and he was quite alright with that.

sebastian vettel (sv5)

sweet rich life series (x filo!socialite!ofc)

crazy rich wife, smau: everyone (some twitter account) wonders where the recently retired german driver had gone to after the 2022 season. thank god for bel vettel, his fans now know that he’s still alive and is being spoiled and pampered by his wife. (f, g)

sweet spoiled husband (+ son), smau: mick schumacher is a grown man that both bel and seb treat like their own child. (f, g)

sweet spoiled schatzi, smau: bel and seb introduce the newest addition to their little family, and mick seems to love kimi vettel as much as a godfather loves his godchild. (f)

sweet little similarities, smau: bel and everyone could tell that kimi vettel was becoming more like his father, sebastian's, carbon copy as days went on. (f, g, h)

sebastian and sons (and soufflés), fic: day in the life of a retired sebastian vettel, featuring his kids kimi and barbie (and a nervous mick). (f)

sweetest spoiled sons, smau: sebastian was a father to not only two- but THREE kids. OR stefan vettel is the newest addition in the vettel household after years of trying and it's safe to say that everyone welcomed this news with open arms. (f)

crazy rich and famous, smau: the vettel couple stepped up to address the scrutiny that their children faced OR sebastian activated his instagram account just so he could show his masterpiece: photographs that he took of his wife for their anniversary.

seb's best girl, scenarios (x daughter!ofc)

Summary: Sebastian Vettel understood the downfalls of infertility just by being there for his wife. What he didn’t know, however, was that his life would drastically change when their foster daughter, Barbie Blanco, was put into their care. OR, what made Sebastian the best father figure to a teenager who had nobody but herself.

one, enter barbie: fifteen-year-old barbie blanco thought that meeting new people was intimidating, and sebastian learned that making her comfortable in her new home was a responsibility he should uphold as her father figure.

two, meeting mick in malaysia: barbie was brought to her first race ever and had met her newest best friends there. it was obvious that she and mick schumacher would get stuck to the hips after their first meeting.

mark webber (mw2)

the problem with following orders, smau: lydia 'liddy' vettel was what everyone considered 'a revenge best served cold.' of course that was a joke, it wasn't entirely either of their fault they were too drawn at each other. (g, h) ♡

toto wolff

✿ colour me your colour series masterlist - toto wolff x hearth sister!ofc (tilly marie hearth) series

colour me your colour: extras (x ofc)

the paddock's resident it girl, smau: besides from owning three of mercedes' competitors in the track and being the mercedes team principal's wife, she's also known as the cool girl of the paddock for her taste in fashion and husband. (f)

the paddock's lucky husband, smau: with him being spoon-fed with love from his children and wife, toto really couldn't ask for more. OR tilly wolff liked to talk about fashion but her family? she might as well write a whole book about them. (f)

the paddock's resident menace and the dame, smau: tilly wolff was presented with a damehood and her daughter tia, the girl who tends to act on her mischievous way (all thanks to toto), celebrated her 7th birthday during the silverstone gp week. fans recall her best moments in sky sports and media overall.

the paddock's iconic team owners, smau: toto and tilly wolff are considered the king and the queen of formula one for a good reason.

the arrow and the bull speared through the hearth, fic: tia wolff learned a lot from her papa and uncle christian, and tilly had to teach them a lesson too. (h)

the paddock's drive to survive, smau: in which, toto's wife tilly became a part of the season six of the netflix series 'drive to survive'. OR everyone believed her to be a part of big controversies in the formula one season of 2023. ★

#tbt, socmed snapshot: too many throwbacks, so little time. ★

many sommers with you (x supermodel!ofc)

twentieth sommer of love, smau: toto wolff celebrated his 20 years of marriage with his childhood friend/wife and their four kids. OR everyone wondered why irish sommer was referred to as 'the bitch of the runway.'

f1 drivers (general / multiple pairing)

✿ 9 to 5 series masterlist - f1 grid x ofc (lester alessandro) ft. fictional wolff kids

too much caring, smau, sv5 + jb22: kpop idol juno was assumed to have cheated on retired driver jenson button with his best mate sebastian vettel. oh how wrong those people were... ★

#formula one fic #formula one imagine #formula one smau #f1 smau #f1 imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula one au #formula one masterlist #formula 1 masterlist #f1 masterlist #f1 series #formula one series

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non-stop-imagines · 10 months

Text

On Display

From this request 💖

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Black Younger!Reader (10 years difference) (Taylor Russell face claim)

Word Count: ~4.6k words w/ 1 smau post

Warning: Porn with a plot somewhere in there, Dom!Daniel, Brat!Reader, p in v, Exhibitionisn (sex against a window), overstimulation, an attempt at writing dumification, Humiliation, brief breeding kink moment, mention of food, one mention of birth control, The word "slut" being used quite a bit 😵‍💫Minors DNI!!! 18+

A/N: Writing smut is always an adventure and this is no different. The funny thing about this is that I used writing this to destress from work all week so have fun imagining writing this while on my lunch break in the break room 👍🏿. But really, thank you for the request, all of the requests I've done already and the requests I've recently gotten that I can't wait to do. You guys are crazy creative and I love to see what you guys come up with it if literally my favorite. 😁💗 Anyway, hope you guys like this. Let me know what you think. Like, reblogs, reply, send asks, talk to me!♥️ Love you all!! 💖💛💖💛💖

Masterlist

___________________*~♥~*__________________

danielricciardo

Liked by yukitsunoda0511 and 501,288 others

danielricciardo Yn sent me random pictures of her and then started crying when I didn't immediately post them. I'm such a bad boyfriend 💔

imynbitch tagged

View all 927 comments

imynbitch I stopped crying, didn't I? 😘

> danielricciardo I'll do better in the future

user Yn is That Girl and she just wants everyone to know

yukitsunoda0511 Yeah, you messed up 🤷🏻‍♂️

> imynbitch Thank you, Yuki. I don't know how much longer I can handle such a lack of attention 🥺😔

> danielricciardo Both of you shut up

user All of her looks are so iconic I can't choose which is my fav 😍

user Daniel is the only person that can handle an attitude like YN's. I'm glad they found each other 🥲

___________

Thursdays were boring when it came to race weekends for you, but you loved to tag along, staying around your boyfriend when you could and hanging out in the Alpha Tauri motorhome or next to a window in the paddock building that had a view of the track, which was where you were today. Both Alpha Tauri drivers were taking some lucky fans for a spin in a Honda, of which you were oblivious and uncaring of the model, around the Silverstone track. You would look up from your phone every once in awhile, whenever you heard the the roar of an engine approaching or squealing wheels, but one fateful time caused you to put your phone face down on the table you sat at and stalk to the large window, close enough to see the atrocity happening. It was the last fan Daniel had to drive around the track, a girl around your age, 24, maybe a bit older, whose hands were all over your boyfriend's arms, and your brain went haywire when Daniel's hand ventured to the girl's lower back, which for him was instinctual as he guided her into the car. You didn't even watch them leave the starting line before you picked up your things (your phone, smaller purse and garage pass) and headed down to the garage, crossing the people filled pitlane and ending at the pit wall, placing your face in a window of the fence without chain link. You wanted to love the smile on Daniel's face when he gets out of the car after his trip around the track and sees you, but your view was interrupted by "her", who meets Daniel halfway at the front of the car, giddily hooking her arm around Daniel's as he walks her your direction.

"Hey, baby. Uh, this is Jennifer, one of the lucky winners of a trip around the track with me." Daniel unhooks his arm from the brunette, stepping to the side a bit as she greets you.

"Hi! Ugh, I just love you! You're one of my favorite wags." She holds out her hand for you to shake, and at first you just scowl at the outstretched manicured hand, but after a brief glance at Daniel giving you a stern “What do we say?” look, you take hold of the hand, shaking hers with little to no tension in your hand.

“Thank you. I, uh, like your nails. They’re my favorite color, light blue." There was absolutely no feeling in your voice, but the compliment you gave was like a diamond ring to Jennifer. You cut your eyes over to Daniel, who gets the hint and begins to lead Jennifer away, that blasted hand on her back, a little higher this time, but still there.

“How about you head back over to the group? Let them know I’ll be over in a moment. I’ll be sure to get an extra picture with you, okay?” That smile. It flashed only at “her”, and you could see the slut’s knees get weak. You wanted to cry, seeing that flirty demeanor from Daniel that reeled you in day one, but focused toward someone else.

"Okay! It was so nice meeting you!" She waves back at you, you responding with a constipated grin, before heading towards the group of fans waiting to take pictures with their favorite drivers.

"Are you okay?" Daniel had an amused grin on his face. This isn't the first time you've acted like this. He knew exactly why you were pouting and had glossy eyes.

"I'm fine" You refuse to look at him, instead watching as "Jennifer" walked up to a member of the media team, probably to tell them that Daniel would be over in a minute. You knew that one glance at Daniel would send the tears you were currently holding back cascading down your face.

"You sure?" Daniel reaches to your face poking through the window in the fence, using your chin to turn your face towards his.

"I said I'm fine!" One tear escaped your eye and was wiped away with Daniel's thumb.

"Okay, okay, baby. I know." He looks at his watch, then over at the group of fans, then back to you. "You head back to the hotel, okay? I'll be done in a couple hours. Make sure you eat something, too." You nod hesitantly at his orders then pucker your lips for him to place a kiss on, which he supplements with another, more tongue involved kiss. When he pulls back he looks at you, eyes shifting back and forth and lips grinning at your still glossy eyes. After one last kiss, this time on your forehead, he finally jogs back over to the group, and though the petty, irrational voice in your head is telling you to stay and keep an eye on "Jennifer" around your man, you follow Daniel's instructions and head back through the garage so you can leave the paddock and head back to the hotel.

_________

"A couple of hours, my ass." You mumble to yourself as you exit the bathroom of the hotel suite. It's been nearly 4 hours since you left the track, and the nagging explanation that you had for Daniel’s tardiness was Jennifer and the "Fuck me" eyes that you felt she was giving Daniel. You wanted to feel happy when you heard the mechanical click of the hotel door unlocking, and deep down you were, you loved to have your boyfriend around. But instead you stayed planted in the armchair next to the large window.

"Still mad, huh?" Daniel plants a kiss on the top of your head despite your attempt to move out of the way.

"Well, huh, I don't know. How would you feel if some slut kept making 'fuck me' eyes at your boyfriend and you had to just watch?" You don't look up from your phone as you rant, tapping through Alpha Tauri's Instagram story getting small glimpses at the slut in question.

"Really?" Daniel's words came out as a chuckle that irritated you enough to make you get up and stomp over to the bathroom with him.

"Don't laugh at me! It's like you never take me seriously!" Daniel continues with what he was doing, removing his shoes and placing them in the closet and then removing his shirt to hang it up.

"I'm laughing because I know you're serious, and it's ridiculous." There's a hysterical laugh behind his words that gives you the impression that he's poking fun at you, which he was, but not in the negative way you thought that prompted tears to your eyes. “Don’t cry.”

“No, you think it’s ridiculous for me not to want to share my boyfriend!” You whine, stamping your foot on the ground, the childish act finally making Daniel turn around and take hold of your face. You looked pitiful with your cheeks squished and eyes red from your crying tantrum.

“No one is asking you to share me.” You let out a defiant grunt to his nonchalant response and he shakes your head with the firm grasp he had on your face. “Why would I want to go anywhere else when my dumb, little baby has the best pussy in the world. Only an idiot would give that up.” He finally lets go of your face and walks back into the bedroom, and you just silently follow him out, but stay by the bathroom door. You watch him pace around the front of the bed, frustrated with your attitude, running his hands through messy curly hair, accentuating the tone of his slim, tattooed, bare upper body. “No, don’t shut up now. Where’s all that whining?” You stayed still, pouting and crossing your arms. “Come here.” You follow directions, walking slowly to Daniel, arms still crossed in attempted defiance, knowing that any action of Daniel's, punishment or otherwise, would break down your defenses. You don't know what you expected, but you know the last thing was the tattooed hand at the junction between your neck and your chin, roughly bringing your face up to meet a sensual, sloppy kiss. It was as though you were magnetized to his movements, having no hesitation in accepting the tongue he presented the first kiss, meeting each entanglement and the amount of force transferred between your lips.

"Look at my sloppy little baby. So eager for me to show her that I only have eyes for her." Daniel moved his hand from your neck to just at your jawline, using his thumb to wipe the residual saliva from your lips and then, from spontaneous thought, pushes his thumb into them, to which you willingly accept the appendage into your mouth, earning a twisted grin from your boyfriend. He just watches as you suck on his thumb, head bobbing slightly as if you were giving him a blowjob. One of your hand begin to move on their own down to Daniel's jeans to unbutton them, but it's captured in his other hand as he removes his thumb from your mouth and smears the spit that you lathered on it along your lips. "Ah ah ah. Whiny little brats don't get to touch their boyfriend's dick."

"But-" Daniel uses his grip on your face to bring it back up so he can kiss you again, a light one this time, short in duration that made you lean forward once it was done, aching for more

"No, buts." With one hand on your face and the other grasping the fiendish hand that tried to get into his pants, Daniel takes a step back, admiring your attire. It was simple. A tight, white cami and baggy plaid pajama shorts. But it was what was underneath, or rather what wasn't underneath, that sent him reeling. “You’re not wearing anything underneath this comfy, little ensemble, huh? Did you do that for me?” You don’t answer, just hold the intense eye contact with him, a subtle scowl on your face. In response to your persistent defiance Daniel moves the hand that was on your face back to your neck, applying enough pressure to make your head feel lighter and for you to take a small gasp of air. “Use your words.”

“Yes. Yes.” You words came out breathless and panicked, to which Daniel removed his hands from your body, satisfied with the small answer you gave.

“And you called that poor girl a slut.” Daniel chuckles, and you just look at him with scrunched eyebrows, upset at the fact that the girl you were worried about was brought up again.

"Because she was." You grumbled this to yourself, since Daniel had already made his way to the unobstructed window.

"Whatever you want to believe, sweetheart." He only partially turned his head back towards you to respond to your rebuttal then turned his attention back to the window. "You think anyone can see us up here?" You shrug and hum your unsureness, making your way over to where Daniel was, standing just behind him.

"I mean, maybe if they're trying to look. We are pretty high up." You answer quietly. Daniel stays put, looking out of the window, but eventually turns around, that twisted grin back on his face.

"Good enough." He takes a step towards you and you tilt your head, confused with the implication hidden in those two words. "If I'm gonna show my cute little brat that she's the only one for me, might as well show the world that I only have eyes for you, cutie." Daniel gives you a quick peck between your raised eyebrows, then one to your lips, a preliminary kiss that preceded a second, more desperate kiss, which was repeated with increasing desperation, only being interrupted for mere seconds to remove articles of clothing, and in no time you and Daniel were completely bare to each other, making out and slowly moving toward the window. "You're fucking gorgeous." Your back was pressed up against the cold glass of the window, the change in temperature causing a combined gasping moan to come from your mouth. "And you make the prettiest noises, my love." You want to take in the glorious sight that is your boyfriend completely naked, tattoo sprinkled around his body that you love to kiss. You wanted to touch him, give him pleasure, but the coldness of the window, the sensation of Daniel's tongue now swirling and lips sucking at one of your nipples, physically feeling yourself get wetter, took that desire and tossed it to the side, and now you were chasing your own pleasure. Daniel's hands had pulled you in, one squeezing your ass and the other on your middle back, trying to bring your boob further into his mouth while using his body to continue to push you into the window.

"Danny…" You moan out his shortened name, tossing your head back, some of your gathered up hair springing free from confinement.

"Shh, dumb little babies don't speak unless they're spoken to." Daniel moved away from your chest back to your lips, swallowing the whine you let out from the loss of contact and then the moans you let out from the kiss. "Do you know how much I love your tits? They're absolutely perfect." He swoops his head back down to kiss your breasts, just the tops and in-between, slowly, sensually. "Let's just show the world how perfect they are." Daniel grasps your hips and spins you so your front pressed against the glass of the window, the abruptness of the action making it easier for him to do so because you had no chance to resist. You both knew the window was tinted, sure to a certain extent, but with tint and the fact that you two were mere floors away from the top floor, it was highly unlikely anyone saw you. But you could see out, clearly, and just the feeling of you being bare and open to the world like this makes you hornier than you even expected. Daniel comes up behind you and presses his body into your's, a hand at your pelvis and a hand grasping your hand that braces you against the window, fingers intertwined, placing his head on your shoulder. "What was that you were gonna say earlier?" As Daniel waits for your answer, he takes his socked foot and widens your legs ever so slightly.

"I need you. So bad. Please, fuck me." You were already breathing deeply from your arousal, and also partially due to the limited range of motion for your expanding lungs due to your current position against the glass.

"Wow, that was much more than I expected. I just thought my dumb little slut would just say 'Fuck me' and that's it. But that was fucking poetic." You could hear the frantic slight annoyance in Daniel's voice as he removes his hand from your pelvis to grasp himself, placing his dick between your legs right at your pussy, fucking your thighs a couple of times to lather up the wetness practically leaking from you before pulling all the way back and placing himself at your entrance. "Brace yourself." You did somewhat, but you wished you took his words more seriously because the force at which pressed his dick inside of you wasn't harsh or too fast, he knew better, but it was steady and gave you little time to adjust to having him inside your pussy as he bottomed out just as quick as he entered you. You simultaneously let out a moan that rivaled a porn star's as your face hit the glass, the abrupt sensation making your mind do cartwheels. Daniel's hand that had a hold on yours snaked away from your hand and under your, now back to, outstretched arms to reach under your chin, guiding your face up so he could give you another frantic, sloppy unfocused kiss before kissing your forehead. "Sorry, baby."

You didn't care. Even while he was apologizing for making you hit your face on the glass, Daniel continued to move his hips, thrusting slowly in and out of you, still causing you to let out lewd whiny moans. "Yes, baby. Keep making those pretty noises for me, okay? No one can make me go as crazy as you do with just a moan. No one. Fuck..." A harsh sting on your butt presents itself after Daniel's rambling of words, to which he responds by slowly massaging the the location at which his hand landed on you and proceeding to kiss your neck, happy with the mild scream you let out from the spontaneous action. He keeps thrusting into you at a steady, forceful rhythm. Snapping his hips into your ass and then dragging his dick out of you. Snap. Drag. Snap. Drag. He knew he wanted more from you, so he brought his left hand that was at your pelvis down to your clit, using the juices squelching from your pussy as lubrication for the fast, circular rubbing of the nub.

"Aha, shit. Danny…fuck." You blindly reach behind your head with your right hand, knocking into Daniel's solid right arm that was back against the glass, clumsily finding its way to the back of Daniel's head, which he nuzzles further into your neck for easier access to the location, moving your hands up until you reach some curls to grasp.

"You like being on display for everyone? Everyone seeing exactly how much of a slut you are for me?" He takes a small step forward, pushing your tits into the glass of the window more, changing the angle of your bodies slightly so his dick runs along each spot inside of you longer with each drag. "Answer."

"Mhm. Ev'ryone knows I'm yours. And you're mine." Your words don't match the innocent face that you give him, eyes wide and lips pouting and somewhat parted, shiny and swollen from the incessant kissing.

"Still so bold even when I'm fucking you against the window for everyone to see. That's why I love you." He flashed a giant smile at you before capturing your lips again at the same time as a harsh snap of his hips, producing from you a loud startled moan. He keeps thrusting and rubbing your clit, both paces steady. He can feel you go slightly limp from exhaustion due to how quick the intensity of the act got to maximum, so he adjusted, taking a step back so you were no longer against the window and bringing the arm previously holding him up against the window to reach across your torso, hand coming up to roll your nipple between two fingers.

" 'm gonna cum. Can't hold it. Feels too good." You keep your grasp on Daniel's head but look away, dropping your head down, getting a somehow X-Rated view of Daniel's tattooed hand rubbing your clit. As you said, it was all too much and soon your legs were giving out and trembling beneath you, to which Daniel takes a step forward again to brace himself on the window again, moving his other hand to your abdomen.

“That was a big one. You okay?” He turns you around and holds you steady by your ass, searching for your eyes and waiting for your answer.

“Mhm.” You look up at him, eyes blinking lazily as your mind swirls around with the pleasure you just received. Your out-of-it response, which was adorable to Daniel, earned you another batch of sloppy tongue filled kisses.

“Good, cause we’re not done.” Before you could protest or retort, Daniel’s lips were back on yours, your bodies slowly making their way over to the bed, the back of Daniel’s legs hitting the structure being him you guys' only indication that you made it to your destination. You were chasing his kisses now, so he had to put you at arms length again to speak. “Ass in the air, my love.” You didn’t follow directions, just stood on your tiptoes, puckering your lips for another kiss. “If I give you a kiss, will you follow instructions?” You nod and then climb in the bed kneeling on it so you were eye level with him, then bring him in from the back of his head, you now dominating this kiss, subconsciously showing anyone that has shown any remote interest in your boyfriend exactly who he belongs to. Once you pull away, a string of spit briefly connecting you two, you slowly get into position, wiggling your ass as you wait. The lack of sight was exhilarating, making you even more wet when you felt the bed dip and Daniel rub his dick along your highly exposed pussy. With a hand on your lower back, Daniel pushes inside you and you groan into the pillow you had your face buried in.

“Fuck, you feel so good like this.” He starts with a gentle pace, allowing your juices to really coat his dick to help it slide in and out better, and as his pace quickens, your groans prolong, still feeling sensitive from your earlier orgasm. “Ha, I can’t believe you thought I would even think about getting rid of this pussy. You really are just a dumb. Little. Brat.” With those last three words, harsh thrusts were supplemented with some more sharp smacks on your butt. His own carnal sensations take over for a moment, just focusing on chasing his own climax, but at a certain point he tilts to the side to look at you, still thrusting. He smiles at the picture of beauty in front of him, your drooping eyelids, slightly parted mouth with a small bit of drool falling onto the pillow, unsecured curls sticking to your sweaty forehead, and exhausted whimpers falling from your mouth. “You look so pretty, baby, all fucked out from my cock.” He keeps moving, speeding up as he gets closer and you also get wordlessly closer to another orgasm, but once Daniel feels himself get more frantic, more animalistic, he stops and pulls out of you, to your dismay, and flips you over onto you back. You kept the same face, brain clouded by desire for another orgasm, and your chest heaving from deep breathing as Daniel worked to get you in position. He kneeled between your legs, pushing them up toward your head, hooking your knees in the crooks of his arms, letting go just so he could guide himself back into you, then continuing the same brutal pace that shocks you for a moment, but then your brain goes numb, mouth hanging open, allowing whatever noises you make to come out uninhibited. “Look at that pretty face you're making for me,” He reaches down and squishes our face, abandoning one of legs to do so. “You think I would want to leave this face?” He bends down to kiss you, stretching your hip and pushing his dick deeper inside you to do so. You had no choice in the matter to kiss him, your lips were already puckered from his hand squeezing your face and your brain couldn't think of anything past cumming again from your boyfriend’s cock, but you still let out a moaning gasp from the intense mixture of sensation. Once Daniel pulls back, he seems to put complete and utter focus on fucking you, hard. “Do you know how much of a brat you were today?” He took your legs and wrapped them around his waist so he could bring his hands down next to your head and get a clear view of your face. “All because you didn’t want to share. And now here you are, being fucked in front of windows, from behind, just so you know that there is no other pussy I would rather fuck. My poor insecure little brat.” You couldn’t respond. You wanted to. Wanted to be snarky back, but everything felt too good, sensitive, and you were too close to cumming to think of anything to say except warning him of your upcoming climax.

“Danny…cum…” You held eye contact with him for the first time in a while, biting your bottom lip hard and begging him with glossy eyes. He just smiles maniacally at you and makes his thrusts rougher, knowing that he was coming close to his own end.

“After such mean words, too? You really are just a little slut for me.” He moves his arms around so he could be stable on one arm in order to reach down and rub your clit, causing you to make the loudest, unabashed moans until you finally got over your hump and came, hips bucking into Daniel’s, back arching, and hands bundling up what you could of the bedding. The rhythmic convulsions happening inside you during your orgasm were working to bring Daniel closer to his own, evident in the groan that he let out just as they started. He continued to fuck you through your climax, but purely for the sake of cumming too, his steady rhythm becoming frantic and unpredictable. “Why don’t we try out that implant, huh? I’m gonna cum in you so much it’ll be leaking out and we’ll see if you end up all round from me. That sounds fun, huh?” You weren’t listening at all, brain going haywire from the continued stimulation to your sensitive pussy, so Daniel’s words were truly just to bring him up and into his own climax, fucking into you wildly as he came inside your pussy, bending over to kiss all over your fucked out face as he did so. Once he came down a bit he removed himself from you and found enough strength to prop up onto his side in order to watch his cum leak from you, gently caressing your aching pussy to help you come down. “You did a good job. I hope now you know that I’m yours forever, okay?” He looks up at your face to see that you seemed to have fallen asleep, unquestioningly exhausted from the night's festivities. Daniel just chuckles and kisses your forehead. “I guess we’ll talk later.” He does what he needs to clean you and himself up enough to sleep comfortably, then climbs back into bed and rolls you into him so that your head is on his chest, and caresses your back until he falls blissfully into sleep with you.

_________

When you finally woke up it was nearly 10:30 in the morning. The room was quiet and the curtains to the windows were drawn so very little sunlight made it into the room. You reach behind yourself to the nightstand beside the bed, finding your phone that was conveniently plugged in and now fully charged. There was a text from Daniel.

Danny💙

Had to leave for the track pretty early. There's donuts out in the kitchenette-thing and iced coffee in the fridge. Make sure you eat real food when you get here. 😘

You smile coyly to yourself, then type out an answer you knew he wouldn't see until after you got to the track anyway.

Thank you, baby. See you soon 💗

You take a moment to fully wake up, stretch out your body, then get up to find and put on the pajamas that were carelessly tossed to the side last night before tiredly stalking out to see a rectangular box of 3 assorted donuts and a white tulip next to them, your favorite flower. You then make your way over to the refrigerator, flower in hand, opening it to see the aforementioned iced coffee, pulling it out and then grabbing one of the donuts before heading back to the bedroom to get ready for the rest of the Saturday.

#black reader #request #f1 x black!reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x black!reader #f1 imagines #f1 fake text #f1 smut #f1 smau #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x black reader #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #Daniel Ricciardo scenario #scenario

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psychedelic-ink · 11 months

Text

𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓

pairing: stripper!jack daniels x f!reader

genre: stripper AU, explicit, minors dni

word count: 4.2k

summary: frustrated by your everyday life, you seek solace at a male strip club. It's your first time and you're instantly mesmerized by the one that calls himself "Whiskey".

warnings: a mild start of a anxiety attack at the beginning, suggestive dancing, stripping, coming untouched, awkward moments, reader's first time at a strip club, unprofessional situations, mutual pining, sexual tension, use of good girl once

a/n: this idea was born whilst we were talking with @fuckyeahdindjarin about stripper!frankie and ofc since both of us are unhinged about a certain cowboy, the conversation steered naturally in the direction of stripper!jack ❤️‍🔥 I'd like to add that I've never been to a strip club and everything here (especially the dances) are born from me watching way too many male stripping tutorials and google searches, so it might not be %1000 authentic buuuuut hopefully it's fun nonetheless!

click for part two of the stripper!jack series

dividers by @firefly-graphics 💜

Your eyes are glued to the neon sign right above the bar. It flickers a bright pink, then purple, then red. In capital letters, it says: PEEP SHOW, and underneath it there’s a heart and in that, a keyhole.

The music isn’t loud enough to leave you deaf, thankfully. You’re not sure you could’ve handled music blaring from the speakers like you were in a dance club. Make Up Sex by SoMo plays in the background, you gently sway with the rhythm refusing to look at the stage. The thumb of your right-hand traces over the knuckles of your left. You notice the bartender and tear your gaze from the sign.

He stands behind the counter, his presence radiating a magnetic charm. With a physique sculpted to perfection, he possesses an air of rugged masculinity. His hazel eyes hold a captivating depth, and his confident smile hints at a mischievous nature. As he moves with grace and confidence, he threads his fingers through his tousled chestnut hair.

“You look like you might need a drink,” he teases, his smile bright and comforting. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Uh. . . a greyhound please?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he replies, taking a step back as if about to leave. But then, he pauses, leaning in close. His breath gently fans your skin, a rush of excitement flooding your veins. “And just some friendly advice, try to relax. We promise we don’t bite,” he says with a wink and goes off to prepare your drink.

You’re frustrated. Have you truly been that obvious? Who are you kidding— of course you have. You’re alone at a male strip club staring at the neon sign rather than the stage. Of course, they can tell you’re new here. You sigh and look around. The establishment is surprisingly neat. You notice a bachelorette party taking place not that far away from you, they seem to be having fun, screaming as a stripper sways his hips from side to side. He looks good. Chiseled abs, shiny chest, the whole thing shebang.

Your heart sinks into your chest. You hate being alone and you’re so incredibly tired of it. Everyone you know is either busy or doesn’t care enough to spare you even an hour. It’s been two years since your last relationship and you swear the lack of company is eating you alive. It would be fine if you had a couple of distractions, like going out with friends maybe, but that proved to be an impossible ask. You’re not even sure why you’re so bothered. You do a lot of things alone. You enjoy your own company. Yet, for some reason seeing everyone together, having fun is more difficult today compared to other days. Your chest collapses on itself, your pulse quick under your skin.

Suddenly it's very hard to breathe.

You take short, sharp breaths, filling your lungs with the scent of musk and strawberries.

Your chest continues to heave—Shit, are you about to have a panic attack in a freaking strip club? Now that will surely be in your top five most embarrassing moments. Nothing even happened, why are you feeling like this?

“You a’right there darlin’?”

A voice smooth as honey reaches your ears. It curls around your body and keeps you still. Goosebumps flare across your skin, the small hairs that are scattered over the back of your neck standing with attention. Slowly, you turn.

It’s one of the strippers, at least you assume it’s one of the strippers. He’s wearing a cowboy hat, a leather jacket, and some low-hanging jeans. He’s wearing a white mesh top underneath. You find yourself unabashedly gawking at him. You’re not sure how long you stare but you’re hoping it only lasted for a second. And if you’re really lucky, he wouldn’t have even noticed.

In contrast to the other strippers you’ve seen so far, he appears slightly older with a softened stomach, yet possesses a lean physique sculpted by years of dance.

You swallow thickly, forcing your gaze back up. He’s clean-shaven except for a dark mustache, he’s smiling but you see a hint of worry in his gaze. Narrowing your eyes, you notice a small gold sticker in the shape of a star under his right eye.

“I’m. . .” you swallow again and shake your head. You’re dumbfounded. “I’m okay, thanks.”

The bartender places the greyhound you ordered, at the same time the stripper extends a hand, “Whiskey,” he says in a sultry way. You squeeze his hand and raise your eyebrows, your shake is a bit weak.

“Whiskey?” you ask. He lets go of your hand and you bring it to your forehead, nervous laughter escaping you. “Oh, it’s your stage name. Of course.”

His crooked smile is intoxicating, the tip of his tongue moves over his teeth. “My parents would have to hate me to name me ‘whiskey’ sugar,” he answers, rubbing his chin. A moment of silence follows as he thinks, ”Well, my real name ain’t any less embarrassing now that I think about it.”

You want to ask him his real name but end up biting your tongue instead. You can’t ask him that, it would be rude, and even if you did you doubt that he’ll tell you. Pressing your lips tightly together, you drop your gaze to your drink. You curl your fingers around it. The sudden cold against your skin calming you.

“First time?” he asks and you nod. “May I ask why you’re here then, so I can be of service?”

That’s a good question. Why are you here?

“I think to have some fun,” you mutter as you drag your thumb over the cool condensation. “I’m just. . .” you shake your head. “Nevermind, that’s stupid. Let’s just say I’m here to have some fun.”

Whiskey observes you for a moment. His chocolate gaze taking in every detail of your expression. Are all strippers this attentive? you think, heat crawling up your spine. His hand slowly slides over the smooth bar until his fingers are gently resting above your wrist. You suck in a breath. His thumb moves over to the inside of your wrist, tracing the vein that pulses violently.

“How about a private dance?” he asks slowly, as if you might bolt out the doors at any given second. “I promise to entertain you thoroughly, sugar.”

You blink, “Really?” you ask instantly feeling foolish at the question. It’s a service he provides, that you will be paying for, of course he means it. Nonetheless, he seems amused by the question. He grins proudly, crowding your personal space. He tilts his head. Your fingers twitch around the glass and your eyes drop to his lips.

Man, he’s dreamy. You’re starting to understand the appeal of these establishments.

“Really,” he parrots back at you. “Follow me, darlin’.”

With shaky legs, you do.

The private room is a sanctuary tucked away from prying eyes.

Your eyes follow the sumptuous drapes of deep velvet cascading from floor to ceiling. In the center of the room stands a circular stage much smaller compared to the one outside, its surface gleaming. Positioned in the middle of it, a solitary chair, adorned in lavish leather, and next to it a small table with a small remote on top. Whiskey closes the door as you enter and walks with confident steps. You stand awkwardly until he gestures towards the sole seat with his head.

“Take a seat, sweetheart. Get comfortable.”

“O–Okay.”

You’re not aware of how close he is until you take a seat, he immediately follows, dipping low. He curls two thick fingers under your chin and tilts your head up, his gaze searching.

“Tell me if anythin’ starts becomin’ too much, understood?”

“Understood,” you squeak, cheeks growing warm. Without any hesitation, he starts the music. Acquainted by the Weeknd starts playing softly through the speakers. There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. The way he walks now is different from the way he walked when guiding you here. He saunters over to you, his shoulders rounding as he starts feeling the music moving through him.

He stands in front of you, movements fluid and confident. You’re mesmerized by him. He stalks even closer to you, and you feel the electric heat radiating off of his body. He slides his hands down your arms and you can't help but let out a little gasp.

Whiskey continues to study your expression, He moves with grace and purpose, his body sliding and swaying sensually to the music. His hips rock back and forth in time, seemingly choreographed flawlessly. His hands glide down his body, tracing the contours of his definition before slipping up his torso. His movements are punctuated by smoldering gazes and slow, deliberate breaths. He rolls his shoulders, his leather jacket sliding to his elbows and falling to the floor a beat later. Your mouth waters.

Suddenly, he turns and bends his knees, straddling your thighs. Your gaze drops, turning into saucers as you take in the sight of his tiny little ass. You exhale a sharp breath from your nose, nostrils flaring. He draws circles with his hips, nearly brushing against you but not quite, he gently holds your wrists, placing them in his inner thighs. His touch is feather-like and with two fingers, allowing you the chance to break free if needed. Your skin feels taut over your muscles, sweat building at your tailbone—he’s so close. You don’t even remember the last time you were this close to a man. It’s dizzying.

Whiskey slowly extends his legs and slides your hands up, your fingers skim the apex of his thighs until he’s standing.

Arousal builds between your legs, your lips a tight, thin line.

Your hands are on his crotch.

Oh god, you think you might actually faint. Wouldn’t that be fucking hilarious?

Fuck he feels warm under your palms—

Scratch that, he feels big.

He drops down as he rolls his hips, his body slides under your hands like a snake and your fingers move up his chest with the movement, feeling the mesh fabric and the firm chest underneath. Very inappropriately, your nails bite into his skin. If your eyes weren’t glued to this gorgeous man’s back, you would’ve missed the moment his hips stuttered, the smallest grunt echoing from the back of his throat.

“Sorry,” you squeak, fingers twitching.

“Don’t worry about it darlin’, just enjoy the show.”

He stands back up again, guiding your hands down to his hips as he squats low. Before you know it, your hands are resting on his pelvis once more, feeling the underlying heaviness. He grinds forward, hefty bulge filling your palms.

The music fades to the background. His steps in slow motion, he turns and straddles you normally, knees dipping as he raises his arms and grinds his hips towards you. Your breath catches in your throat. He’s so close. With his every move, you can smell the leather coming off of him, it takes you everything not to close your eyes and just inhale his scent. He steers your hands towards his ass, placing them against the firm mounds.

You know that this is a strip show. You know that you’ll be paying him afterward—and tipping him generously.

But, fuck, the way he’s looking at you shouldn’t be allowed. Something dark swirling in them, something ravenous. His smile is knowing, teasing, like he can read your mind and it’s unnerving. How does anyone leave this strip club not being a mess for this man?

His fingers delicately trace the column of your neck, moving over to your shoulder and coming back. He’s observing you, eyes fixed on you as he searches for any kind of discomfort. Then he gradually wraps his hand around your neck. There’s no pressure and it feels slightly ticklish.

He moves closer in tune with the music, his lips brush against your neck, your nipples tightening at the touch. He takes your hands and guides them up his chest and broad shoulders. His lips are barely touching yours and you can feel his softly blowing breath. He thrusts his hips, clothed cock nearly touching your chest, suddenly you’re holding your breath wishing nothing more than his touch. His ass flexes under your hand, firm and warm.

Till this point, you were trying really hard to ignore how wet you’ve gotten. Subtly, you’re moving your hips, trying to add pressure to your throbbing clit. The wet fabric of your underwear grazes against the bundle of nerves, dipping between your wet folds. Your chest heaves and you swallow down a whimper. It’s been so fucking long since you’ve felt anything like this. Tension curls around your thighs and moves up to your stomach, arousal heavy between your legs. He must be used to this right? You can’t be the only one to get this worked up.

Even if Whiskey does notice your weak attempts at relief, he doesn’t say anything.

All your senses narrow on him as he kneels in front of you, the music dropping with him. With a wink, he takes your hands and guides them down his chest while leaning back to sit on his heels. Your hands slide down his torso, once again just shy in touching his length. With a body roll, he comes back up and grips the armrests of your chair, popping up into a bridge position. Your thighs are spread and he drops his head low, you swear you feel his breath on you before he slithers up again, lips nearly brushing the valley of your breasts. His face is an inch away from yours, only charm. He tilts his head, coming in closer as if he’s about to kiss you, then moves away again.

You’re mortified when you find yourself instinctively chasing after his lips.

He hums, the sound barely audible over the music, his smile never fades, “Good girl,” he mutters as his hands slide down to gently grip the back of your thighs.

You’ve never been more aware of not touching someone in your life.

Whiskey pushes himself closer and lifts your legs. Despite the clothes that separate the two of you, you feel the sinewy fabric of muscle hidden underneath as your legs frame his narrow hips. He presses closer, positioning his length against you. You feel it. His cock throbbing and aching under those tight, tight pants. Your throat moves, the muscles in your jaw clenched. He grazes one hand up and up and up until the width of it rests over your hip.

He continues his grinding, his jeans rubbing tantalizingly against your inner thighs. You feel his hardness through the thin fabric separating you; all you can think is how good it feels to have him there. His hands rub lazily across your hips, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Whiskey's hands snake up your sides, his fingers weaving through the flesh of your waist. His pelvis moves rhythmically against yours, each thrust accompanied by a low moan that you’re desperately trying to bite down.

“You seem tense darlin’,” his breath is hot and heavy in your ear as he gently nibbles the sensitive lobe, tantalizing you further. “Could see it in your eyes as soon as I spotted you alone at the bar. Let go, sweetheart. It’ll be our little secret,” His hips sway in and out, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. You feel your breath catch and become labored, is—is he actually suggesting what you think he’s suggesting?

God, you just don’t have it in you to care anymore. You’re too worked up, every touch feels doubled with the way he moves, smiles, and looks at you.

You can’t help but relax into his motions. He moves slower, teasing you as he coaxes your inevitable fall. He builds you up, and normally, you would bask in the relief that he would tear you apart soon enough—but the thing is. . . you two aren’t actually having sex. There’s a very high chance the build-up would last forever, that is, until the time was up. You’re being edged in the best way possible but you fear you might have a hearty breakdown if you can’t, as how he put it; “let go”.

He must’ve sensed your worries because for the first time, his smile falters, brows furrowing with concentration. His eyes flit over yours briefly before cupping your chin and raising your head. You expect him to say something, anything—maybe call you his good girl again—but nothing escapes those lush lips. Your eyes drop to the divot of his bottom lip and he leans closer, cock fully moving over your puffy clit. Your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek. Your stomach bottoms out, there’s a faint buzzing in your ears as the pressure in you grows and grows until you feel it in the back of your eyes.

Fuck—Are you about to come?

Nonononononono—

Your body spasms in pleasure, an orgasm building from deep within you as the music and his body surround you. He smells of pine and leather and the scent assaults your lungs. Your insides begin to clench and your muscles carry on a delirious dance of its own as warmth starts to spread in waves throughout your body. Your toes curl and every nerve ending in your body is brought alive. You squeeze your eyes shut, your breath quickens. You swallow down all the noises that threaten to spill out. All you can think of is how embarrassing this is, your cheeks are left burning, your orgasm washing over you in large waves against your better judgment.

Whiskey barely slows, still rolling his hips with the guide of the slowing song. He does pull back eventually and you’re grateful for it. The inside of your mouth is dry, your eyes watered, the inside of your panties soaked.

“S-Shit,” you whisper. “I’m . . . I’m—”

He lets out a content sigh, if anything, he seems delighted by the whole ordeal.

“Like I said darlin’,” he rasps, breath ghosting your lips. “This will be our little secret.”

The music ends and you know your time is up.

Hanging out at a strip club isn’t actually as mortifying as you thought it would be.

After your first encounter with Whiskey, you thought you would never step into the glitter and glam of the club ever again. However, after a particularly tough day, you found yourself at the door once more. The bartender, who later introduced himself as Tequila, greeted you enthusiastically, and from that point on, you became a regular.

Despite being a regular, names were still off-limits, and you didn't mind. Everyone was entitled to their privacy, and it made it all the more special for the time when Whiskey might eventually reveal his real name, if that day ever came. You're still not sure where you stand exactly on the spectrum between being a customer and a friend.

You could never afford another private dance though, at least not if you wanted to have enough money for food this month. Nevertheless, you were content with just watching the performances, and seeing Whiskey entertain endless bachelorette and bachelor parties was always a delight.

And hey, surprisingly, Tequila made some killer iced coffees, which you greatly appreciated since you weren't the biggest drinker and a bit of a lightweight. The last thing you wanted was to get drunk with Whiskey around, as you had already embarrassed yourself enough. However, he was a man of his word. He never mentioned the incident that took place during his performance. In fact, he behaved as if it never happened. For a minute there, you even thought that maybe you had imagined the whole thing.

However, there were moments when he would simply give you a certain look, and in that instant, you knew for certain that he did remember.

“Here you go gorgeous,” Tequila says, pulling you from your thought as he places an iced coffee in front of you.

Your eyes widen as you see whipped cream with a lavish cherry on top. 'Is there a special occasion I'm not aware of?'

He shrugs, “I was bored, it’s a slow night.”

Thanking him, you turn in your seat. It was a slow night, with only a handful of people present. There was a couple seeking a good time and a couple of corporate-looking ladies. Whiskey was entertaining one of them, employing his Southern charm as he winked at the woman and tipped his hat. Over the passing days, you had come to recognize his dance choreography. It seemed he genuinely enjoyed what he was doing, which made you happy in return.

Sometimes you do wish you had met the man outside of these walls though. You can’t fight the longing you feel whenever you see him. Other than being ridiculously attractive —and knowing how to make a woman come without touching them— he was kind to you that day. He saw how miserable you were and tried to cheer you up. Sure, you were a customer, but still, he didn’t have to go the extra mile.

You often thought about meeting him at a supermarket or something instead. Would he be as kind? Would he be as attentive? Maybe he wouldn’t even give you a second glance as he buys a box of cereal—you frown, when you think about it like that, maybe meeting him in a strip club wasn’t that bad after all.

Whiskey's dance comes to an end and you have to fight every fiber of your being not to eat him with your eyes like a hungry, horny, wolf. You try to look disinterested, eyes moving to one of the other dancers. It’s too late though, his gaze catches your own. He smiles as he struts towards you.

“How are you sweetheart?” he asks, pink tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “Is Tequila here treatin’ you well?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” You grin, gesturing to the whipped cream and cherry on top, as if it's obvious. His eyes drop to the fruit, glistening and wet. Without waiting for you to say anything, he picks up the fruit by the stem and sticks his tongue out. He catches the cherry with his lips, slowly drawing it into his mouth, and you watch, transfixed, as he chews. His jaw works over the cherry, then, a moment later, he shows you his tongue once more.

On the tip of it, lays a neatly knotted stem.

“Holy hell,” you whisper. “I should be mad because I was looking forward to that cherry but I’m too impressed.”

With two fingers Whiskey calls for Tequila, “Get the pretty lady another cherry,” he says.

“Show off,” the other man mutters but complies anyway. A quick moment later, there’s another cherry on a bed of white.

You eye him warily, “You’re not gonna eat this one too, are you?”

He laughs, “No darlin’. Don’t worry, enjoy your overly sweetened fruit.”

Still not trusting him, holding it by the stem, you stick the cherry between your lips and quickly chew. He draws his brows together, “No show?”

“If I was that talented with my tongue I wouldn’t be single.”

“There’s more to relationships than a good tongue,” he answers. “I would know.”

He’s single?

You don’t know why the revelation shocks you, but it does. You didn’t want to assume anything based on his career choice and by personality alone, you didn’t really think he would be in the same boat as you.

“You can act a little less surprised you know,” he teases, leaning against the bar with a curled lip.

“S-Sorry, I just never thought you would be single you’re just so. . .” cutting yourself off, you press your lips together. He leans closer, teasing smile now shifting into a full toothy grin.

“So. . . what?” he asks. His finger dips into the whipped cream, and he brings it to his lips, his deep gaze never leaving yours as he sucks it off slowly. “Dazzling, charming, talented?”

Your throat goes dry and you have to swallow, “Well yes, all of those and. . . handsome.”

“Compliments don’t get you a free dance, sweetheart,” he winks. “Just sayin’.”

Your lips quiver, a hesitant smile curving your lips. Your cheeks warm under his gaze.

Talking to him comes easy to you. You also enjoy his confidence, he knows he’s good looking and he doesn’t shame you for stating it, or make you feel less of a person for admitting. It’s freeing. Maybe that’s why you’re always visiting the club. He grants you a place to just be yourself, even if he does so intentionally or not, you appreciate it.

“You, giving out a free dance?” you exaggerate every word, you mirror his movement and stick two fingers in the whipped cream. You bring them to your lips, savoring the sweetness. It’s subtle, but you catch the way his breath hitches. Your smile grows. “I never would expect such a thing.”

“Good,” his voice drops dangerously low, almost sounding like a growl. Inching closer, his breath fans the side of your neck and you feel the rough scrape of his mustache against the shell of your ear. A whimper rattles your throat. “I would hate to be misunderstood.”��

He pulls back with a wink, he flashes you his canines, and drags his tongue over them. “See you around, sunshine,” he says, voice returning to normal. The words die in your throat as he disappears towards the back, presumably to get ready for his next show.

You’re left staring, mouth agape. Flustered, you stir your iced coffee to feel the soothing sound of ice clanking around.

You frown when you realize all the ice had melted.

Thank you for reading everyone! This one definitely tuckered me out but I think it ended up not being that bad?

Normally this was always going to be a two-parter but then the first part ended up being way longer than I intended (almost 8k) so I decided to split it into two chapters since didn't want it to be too long. Therefore, this little series will be three parts in total. I've written most of chapter two since it was meant to be a part of chapter one so it'll be out relatively quick!

That's it for now, sending everyone love and many hugs 💜

#jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x fem!reader #jack daniels x f!reader #jack daniels x female!reader #agent whiskey x f!reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey fanfiction #kingsman the golden circle #kingsman fic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters

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gracev0609 · 2 months

Text

Plaything

Josh X Danny X Y/N

WC: 2k

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI, Explicit Sex, Jealousy, Persuasion, Polyamorous Relationship

Cowritten by my lovely friend @lipstickitty ❤️

The bar was loud with chatter, laughter and music pumping, but Danny could still make out Josh's distinct laughter. He zeroed in on his partner while Josh chatted and flirted with a woman at the bar for the last fifteen minutes.She was laughing too loud at whatever story he was telling her, making sure to put her hand on his bicep. Danny's jaw clenches hard and he sees red when Josh locks eyes with him over her shoulder as he pushes a stray piece of her hair behind her ear.

Danny gripped his pint glass tightly in his fist, shooting back the rest of his now warm beer before getting up making his way towards Josh. Josh, who was supposed to be on a date with Danny.

Danny stood right behind Josh, his chest against his back, towering over the smaller man,” I thought you were going to get us another round babe. Who's your friend?”

Josh cranes his neck to look at Danny,”Oh! This is Steph, she's a fan of mine!”

Danny's eyes narrowed slightly at the use of the word mine, Josh giving him a little smirk back.

Danny places his hand on Josh's hip, his fingers finding their way into the opening of his pants pocket,” Of yours huh?”

Subtly Josh backs his ass into Danny's crotch, knowing the game he's playing very well, making sure Danny is pissed enough to give it to him exactly how he needs it.

“Yeah Hun, Steph here said I'm her favorite and asked if she could get us a shot. So I'll be back to our table soon!”

Danny seethed, being dismissed too easily when he was promised a nice night out with his lover. Through clenched teeth he tells the girl it was nice to meet her and orders one more beer. After getting his beverage he stomps back to the table he's been inhabiting alone for the better part of the evening, pulling out his phone and scrolling through socials. Picture after picture of his friends having a great Saturday night with their friends and lovers mock him. He contemplates texting Y/N, but he decides she doesn't need to know about his less than stellar evening.

Josh saunters back to the table with a partially emptied cocktail in his hand,”You ready to go after your drink?”

Danny clenches his jaw for the umpteenth time this outing,”Yeah Josh. All ready to go.” He tilts his head back, guzzling the rest of his fresh beer before setting it down on the table harder than intended.

“Finish your drink Joshua.”

Josh feels his blood travel south as Danny goes to settle their tab. Danny is pissed and that's exactly how Josh wants him.

Once in the car Danny's navigating their way home with a set jaw, and one hand gripped in the wheel. So far he's been silent, the tension in the air causing Josh to shift in his seat subtly pressing his palm to his erection.

Danny barks,” You had a fun night. Are you palming yourself because of that girl or because you know you're about to be punished.”

Josh whips his head towards his love,” No! Not.. not because of Steph.”

“Oh! You remember her name.”

“I mean she was a nice girl Daniel, that's it.”

Daniel's nostrils flare,” She's not so nice when she had you ignoring me for most of the night!”

Josh slinks back into his seat, Danny's booming voice shaking him slightly. He felt himself twitch in his pants, maybe it was a bit twisted but Danny's anger was turning him on immensely.

Josh places his hand on Daniel's thigh, feeling the tension radiating off of him,” I'm sorry baby, really I am.”

“Whatever Josh. When we get home your ass better go straight to our bedroom.”

Josh lets out a breath quietly muttering,” Yes sir.”

The rest of the drive was silent besides the low hum of the tires on the road. Once home he threw the car into park, quickly getting out of the vehicle with Josh following him dutifully. Danny tossed his keys into the catch all tray next to the door in the foyer before storming to the bedroom. Josh caught Y/Ns eye from her place on the couch. She furrows her brow, “What happened Josh?”

Josh giggles, grabbing her hands helping her off the couch,”Dates not over yet baby. Come on.”

She catches the way his smile turns slightly wicked,”Oh? You pissed him off on purpose. What a bad boy Josh.”

Josh leads her to the bedroom where they find Danny already shirtless with a pair of restraints in his hands. Twisting and turning the material in his fingers, staring at them in his grasp.

“Strip and get on the bed Josh.” Danny softened his gaze looking at his other love,” Hi baby. I wanna eat your pretty pussy, how does that sound?”

She nods her head, taking a seat at the foot of the bed. Danny lovingly cups her jaw, stroking his thumb against her cheek. He turns his attention to Josh, making his way to the head of the bed.

“Give me your wrists.”

Josh presents his wrists to him, his eyes soft waiting to see what Daniel has in store for him. Danny loops the fabric around his wrists securing them tightly, perhaps a little too tight, before securing them to the headboard.

“Stay put and watch.”

Turning towards his love,”Y/N sweetie, how about you sit in the armchair, that way he can watch us.”

She sits down, scooting her hips to the edge of the chair and Danny kneels in front of her immediately removing her lounge pants. Josh watches as Danny immediately dives his tongue into her folds making her yelp, the obscene audio making him fully harden.

“Fuck Danny!” She groans as he focuses all his frustrations into eating her out like a starved man desperate for a meal. Motion on the bed catches her attention, and she bites her lip as she watches Josh flex his hips into nothing. He's aching for attention. He's hard and leaking as he continues to writhe on the bed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he silently begs to touch or be touched.

She pulls on Danny's hair, easing him off of her a bit,” Danny… he needs attention.”

Danny sucks her labia into his mouth quickly before detaching to respond,” No.”

He buries his tongue in her folds once again.

Shakily she breathes,” You can't ignore him Danny, that's mean.”

He removes his mouth from her once again, his eyes cold,” Oh? Like the way he ignored me all night to flirt? He can watch.”

Danny turns his attention to Josh for the first time since he bound his wrists,” How does it feel to watch Josh?”

A quiet whine slips from Josh's lips, and he clenches and unclenches his fists. His legs tense and relax, he's so worked up.

Danny softly coos to Y/N,” Want you to cum on my tongue okay baby? I need to taste how sweet you are.”

Danny thrashes his head side to side, tongue lapping across her clit over and over. Finally her body tenses and releases, Danny growls as she cums on his tongue, exactly what he wanted.

A small,” Please Danny” comes from the bed.

“Mmm, no. I don't think you've earned it yet baby.”

Josh looks at the ceiling, willing the tears away, and Y/N takes pity on him. She makes her way to the side of the bed, kissing him softly as Josh immediately deepens it before Danny pulls her back and they both cry out.

“Enough! Y/N you know he's being punished for his behavior, don't make me punish you too.”

“Please, I need something! I'm so hard, I've been hard. It hurts, please I need… I need relief.” Josh pleads with tears fully streaming down his cheeks.

“Please Danny, I love you! I wanted you to claim me not forget about me.”

Y/N speaks up,”Danny look at him!”

She takes in his tears on his cheeks, his body flushed red, and his cock throbbing.

“He's fine Y/N.”

This isn't going the way Josh intended, at all. He has one more idea to try to get his way, after all he was looking forward to Danny's hand wrapped around his throat not being tied up and left wanting.

Josh chokes out a sob,”I'm not having fun anymore.”

Immediately Danny’s eyes soften and he unties his wrists,”Oh, baby I'm so sorry.”

He kisses his red raw skin on his wrists, before cupping his face in his hands,” I love you. I'm sorry Josh, do you want to stop?”

“No, just touch me. Please.”

“Absolutely baby, anything you want.”

Danny wastes no time peppering his face with kisses, tangling his hands into Josh's curls. Y/Ns hands run up and down the land of Josh's torso making his stomach muscles flutter with the teasing touch.

Josh preens at the feeling of both of his lovers hands and mouths all over his body. His fingers tangle with Y/Ns capturing her attention,” Lovie…. My cock, it needs attention. Needs your mouth.”

Quickly she kisses down Josh's body, taking his aching length into his mouth. Josh melts into the mattress, finally receiving relief.

“Does that feel good, my love? Finally getting what you needed.” Danny croons into the hot skin of Josh's neck.

Josh rapidly nods his head moaning out as pleasure builds quickly within his body with each flex of his hips. Much quicker than he was expecting. Josh grabs at Danny's hand, bringing it to his throat,” Can I cum Danny?”

Danny securely squeezes the sides of Josh's throat, exactly the way he likes it,” Yeah baby, you can cum. You've earned it.”

“Do it Josh, I want it,” Y/N says from below, her voice gruff from the abuse her throat has taken. She wraps her lips around his head, hollowing out her cheeks taking him down as far as she can. Josh digs his nails into Danny's forearm as his eyes roll back. His back arches and a moan squeaks out from his throat as he finally releases. She swallows down all he has to offer, her tongue lapping at his cock until he's a twitchy mess.

“Fuck! I'm so sensitive.” Josh pants.

His love crawls back up his body as he takes a deep breath still coming down from his high. She nuzzles her face into his neck, kissing the now damp skin,”Do you feel better baby?”

He nods, reaching for the prominent bulge in Danny's pants.

“Let me make up for what happened at the bar.”

Danny rolls onto his back Josh eagerly pulling his pants and underwear down, letting his cock spring free. No sooner than removing his clothing from around his ankles Josh was eagerly sucking him down.

“For fucks sake Josh,” Danny groans, throwing his head back into the pillow.

Y/N finds Danny's mouth, her lips connecting with his. He immediately deepens it, prodding his tongue into her mouth. Pleasure floods Danny's body as Josh bobs his head faster, cupping his balls with his hand. Panting, Danny bites down on her lips, whining into her mouth as he comes undone. Once Danny has come down, Josh gently pulls off of him. He places wet hot kisses to the inside of his thighs, nuzzling into Danny's skin he sighs,” Nectar from the Gods.”

Josh resumes his place in the middle of the bed, sandwiched between the loves of his life,”So…. I have a confession to make.” He turns his head looking towards Danny,” I pissed you off on purpose, and I said I wasn't having fun on purpose. I- I wanted this, I wanted you to spoil me.”

Danny's jaw drops,” Wait?! You're fucking me. You- you! What the hell Josh I felt bad! And you just wrapped me around your finger getting whatever you want.”

Josh intertwines their fingers together,” But I love youu!”

Fin.

#gvf #josh gvf #josh kiszka #danny gvf #danny wagner #gvf smut #gvf fanfiction #iced chai universe

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inclusivepedrolibrary · 1 year

Text

Welcome to the Inclusive Pedro Library!

ID also in alt txt.

[ID: The banner for our blog! On top of a peach pink cloud background with sparkling stars are two rows of six circles, filled with characters played by actor Pedro Pascal. In the top row from left-to-right, are characters: Din Djarin/The Mandalorian, Javier Peña, Javier Gutierrez, Oberyn Martell. In the fifth circle there is cursive text reading: “The Inclusive Pedro Library.” In the sixth and last circle of the row there is a photo of Joel Miller. In the bottom row from left-to-right, are characters: Jack Daniels/Agent Whiskey, Dieter Bravo, Marcus Moreno, Marcus Pike, Pero Tovar, and Frankie Morales. In the bottom right corner there is text reading: “Tumblr: @inclusivepedrolibrary.” End ID]

We recognized a need for an inclusive space for Pedro fans on Tumblr, so we decided to start a curated list of fanfics and fan art.

We carefully screen all reader-insert fic recs to avoid white-coded language (such as flushing/blushing, red marks on skin, white-coded hair, etc).

We also want to build a library of POC and other underrepresented authors and artists, and curate fics and fan art featuring Pedro characters with queer and/or POC OCs. (We do not read or reblog RPF about Pedro Pascal, we only accept fics about his characters.)

This blog is for 18+ friends only. Minors DNI. Thank you.

Asks & Submissions are temporarily paused while we get things up and running! Thank you for your patience! Please read the submissions guidelines before sending anything in!

Fic Recs * Fan Art Recs (coming soon) *

(all coming soon) POC Writers/Artists * Queer Writers/Artists * Over 30 Writers/Artists * Writers who write/draw Plus Size

Tag Navigation

Inclusivity Resources

#pedro pascal character x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #inclusive pedro pascal fanfiction #inclusive pedro pascal character x you #race neutral fanfic #race neutral reader insert #POC friendly fanfic #POC friendly fics #The Inclusive Pedro Library #The Inclusive Pedro Library fic recs #The Inclusive Pedro Library art recs #Inclusive Pedro pascal fanfiction #Inclusive Pedro pascal fanfic

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catierambles · 6 months

Text

Feral Instincts

Pairing: The Rogue’s Gallery (Geralt, Syverson, Mike, August Walker, Walter Marshall) x Stephanie Daniels (OFC) Rating: M for Mature. There's smut, injury, blood, etc. Minors DNI 18+ ONLY Summary: When a woman is attacked and infected by a feral wolf in their territory, a pack of four alphas and one beta make it their mission to make sure she comes out the other side of it with her mind intact. She was infected in their borders, she’s their responsibility. Contrary to popular belief, there can be more than one alpha in a pack, there just tends not to be because of how territorial they can get. Not all of them are as accepting of their new charge, one wants nothing to do with her past making sure she doesn’t go feral herself, but not for any care for her well-being. Feral wolves are dangerous and violent, the by-product of a person’s mind not being able to handle the transformation and breaking. There’s no rehabilitating a feral, no cure for their madness, best to put them in the ground so they don’t leave a pile a bodies in their wake. Best for everyone.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32

FAN ART HOLY SHIT

Timeline/Ages of Characters

Lore Dump on Pack Hierarchy

hoo boy that was a lot. why do I do this to myself? If any of the links are broken, or lead to the wrong chapter, let me know which one is borked and I'll fix it.

#henry cavill #captain syverson #walter marshall #august walker #hellraiser mike #geralt of rivia #feral instincts

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cerridwen007 · 9 months

Text

A Double Helping.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader x Agent ‘Jack Daniels’ Whiskey.

Word count: 1.4K. (18+) MINORS DNI!

Summary: GETTING FUCKED AND DICKED DOWN BY THE TWO HOTTEST, COWBOY CODED SOUTHERNERS. THAT'S LITTERALLY IT.

Warnings/Notes: SMUT, threesome, unprotected piv, anal, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, swearing, double creampie, double penetration, straight up porn with zero plot, fluffy aftercare, No y/n.

A/N: First off I want to apologize for how long I've been inactive in posting any fics on here, ive had alot of stuff happening recently and been super busy with work basically working full time when I'm only contracted to do part time, argh. So I have been lacking any energy or motivation to write in all honesty. So I decided to give y'all a super spicy fic for an apology for my inactivity. I'm hoping to get back to my weekly posting schedule, but knowing me, that will only last a month or so. Any interaction with my posts is always appreciated. I hope y'all enjoy.

***************

How you got in this situation you have no idea but you certainly weren't complaining. You have two fucken, deliciously hot naked men completely and utterly devoted to you at this moment.

Your naked body was firmly pushed up against Joel's bare chest as the both of you laid out on the bed. His big, strong hands were holding your thighs apart till it was borderline painful. His hot breath fanned your neck and ear, whispering sinful words into your ears. While your pussy was being devoured by the other man in front of you on his knees.

You were spread out like a dinner buffet for him and he loved it, growling into your dripping cunt to show his appreciation. His mustache delightfully tickles your folds, sending goosebumps throughout your body.

“That’s it baby, what a good fucken girl you are.” Joel whispered darkly into your ear, trailing soft bites down your neck. Your hand grips Jack’s messy locks tightly as he eats you out like a man starved.

You could feel Joel’s hard cock, pushing into your back and you grinded back and forth into Whiskey’s nose, the friction causing both of the men to groan out. The dirty sounds adding nothing but intense pressure to your throbbing clit.

“Fuck.” you cry out as Whiskey’s nose rubs your sensitive nub as his tongue fucks into your tight hole.

Joel goes to your peaked nipples, pinching and groping them between his big, calloused hands. Your breaths become whiney and loud as your peak comes closer. Jack thrusts two fingers into your wet cunt and curls them as he sucks on your clit feverishly. The combination of all the stimulation your body is being fed, sends you over into a hard and long orgasm.

“Atta girl, come on my face and fingers, wanna taste your sweetness, sugar.” Whiskey groans as he licks up every ounce of your sticky release.

Your thighs close tightly around his head, but he doesn't care at all, not coming up till your body is shaking from over stimulation. He gets up off his knees with a big grin on his glistening face and kisses you sloppily, sharing the taste of your arousal to your own tongue. Joel kisses and sucks on your pressure point on your neck, making you gasp into Whiskey’s mouth. They both chuckle softly at your reaction.

“Mmmh you reckon she’s ready to be fucked good by the both us Whiskey?” Joel asks.

“What do you reckon, sweetheart? Want me and Joel to destroy your pretty little holes?” Jack asks you, laughing darkly as he cups your jaw.

Your words get caught in your throat for a second. All you can do is look up at Jack and whimper pathetically, nodding.

Joel growls softly and grips your jaw, turning your face towards him.

“Gonna need you to use your words, honey.” Joel says to you, a dark, lustful desire burns in his eyes.

“Y-y-yes, please.” You plead weakly.

They both chuckle again. “Well since you asked so nicely.” Whiskey says as he grips his hard cock tightly, stroking it a few times. He leans down and puts his forehead on yours while looking into your eyes. He swipes the tip of his dick through your drenched folds, the motion making you breathe fast and shallow with anticipation.

“Ready, baby?” he asks you softly.

You nod your head and whisper “Yes”. Your teeth catch your plush lips between them as Jack slowly inserts his length in your pussy. You reach behind you as your mouth opens wide, soft moans rolling off your tongue. Your hand finds comfort in Joel’s soft brown locks.

“Betcha she feels so damn good around your cock huh, Whiskey?”

“Fuck, she sure does. So wet and tight f’me.” He grunts softly as he slowly bottoms out in your cunt.

“God, fuck…..” You cry out.

“Might have to try her other hole out for m’self then.” Joel murmurs as he spits into his hand and strokes himself before positioning himself between your cheeks.

“Breathe baby, this might hurt a little at first.” He whispers as he slowly enters your puckered hole. Your face winces a little at the slight pain in the intrusion but relaxes as it slowly fades out to pleasure.

You let out a string of sinful whines and curses as both of the men bottom out inside of you. Jack grips your throat tightly before leaning down to swallow all your lustful breaths. “Goddamn sweetheart.. You take me and Joel so well, baby girl.” You whimper at his seductive accent, praising you. You can feel every inch and vein on their cocks as they slowly drag in and out of your tight holes. You have never felt so full in your entire life than you feel right now.

Joel and Jack both anchor their hands onto your body tightly as they begin to thrust deep and ruthlessly into you, hard enough to bless you with deep purple marks to remind you of this night for many nights to come. Joel hands are on your hips, and Jacks on your throat and abodemen so he can feel himself. Your other hand that is not in Joel's hair finds purchase on Jack’s back, gripping onto him for dear life, your nails leaving red crescent marks on his skin.

The room fills with the combined sounds of labored breaths and groans and moans, making a erotic and lewd synophony between the three of you. The air in the room is clouded with the smell of sex; hazy, and beautiful.

Another orgasm is fast approaching as you cry out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck I’m so close, I’m going to cum!”

“Cum for us baby, Cum around our cocks.” Jack growls.

And you do, hard. Harder than you have ever come before. Both of the men fasten their pace working you through it and chasing their own releases. Your eyes roll back, mouth wide open, silent screaming of pure pleasure. Completely full and cock drunk on the girthy lengths releasing their spend into both of your holes.

They both slowly come to a stop and breathe heavily as their post orgasm sets in. The three of you take a few minutes to catch your breath. They both leave soft kisses on your neck and forehead, whispering words of encouragement as your body softly shakes.

“Did so good for us, honey.” Jack whispers softly against your lips.

You smile softly at their praise and sigh as they let their dicks slowly exit out of your pulsating, dripping holes. Jack gets up to get a washcloth from the bathroom, kissing your forehead before he leaves your warmth. Joel cradles you tightly in his arms for a few minutes, planting soft kisses in your hair, before carefully moving your body off him and laying you down on the bed before going to the kitchen to get you some water.

Jack comes back and examines the forming bruises on your skin, leaving soft kisses on the sores. He gently wipes your pussy and thighs clean from your combined releases. Throwing the cloth on the ground before climbing behind you on the bed and softly stroking your hair.

You sit up a little when Joel comes back and hands you a glass of water. He watches you carefully till he is satisfied you have drunk enough liquid before taking it from your hands. He softly holds your face in his hands and places soft kisses all over your face as he rubs his thumbs soothingly over your cheeks. Your eyes are closed, and you smile softly at the tenderness and care from both of the usually stoic and macho men.

“Lie back, sweetheart, get some rest.” Joel coos softly at you.

You nod and scoot back to lie down. Whiskey is already softly snoring behind you, he reaches out and pulls you closer to his chest in his unconscious state. Joel gets under the covers in front of you and gives a long kiss on your lips before you tuck your face into his warm, firm chest as he plants his nose in your hair. A big warm, comforting mess of tangled limbs makes it easy to drift off to sleep.

You slept like the dead that night, body and cunt achy and fucked out. You were going to be lucky if you could walk the next morning. Nevertheless, a big grin was spread across your face as you were cuddled up to two amazing men as sleep overtook your tired body.

************

#pedro pascal characters #smut #joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller smut #tlou smut #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou #agent whiskey fanfiction #agent whiskey smut #agent whiskey fic #agent whiskey

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fxrmuladaydreams · 6 months

Text

his video (sv5)

pornstar!seb x camgirl/pornstar!reader

summary: sebastian wants to try something new for his channel, maybe something a little softer than his usual content?

notes: okay after finishing this i wouldn’t call it “soft” but more tame for pornstar!seb

warnings: !! INCLUDES SMUT, MINORS DNI !! oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, slight size kink

prev part next part

Begging To Cum feat. Sebastian Vettel

Your video had made the home page and stayed there for about a week now. Money flooded into your virtual tip jar, along with comments praising your video. It seems your audience really enjoyed watching you and Sebastian. Even in the livestreams afterwards comments flooded in asking if Sebastian was going to be joining you.

You enjoyed having him with you. A part of you had always been afraid of filming with another person, but you were glad you bit the bullet and did it with Sebastian.

You kept in contact with him for days after filming, updating each other on how well the video had done.

It should have worried you, the little jump you felt in your heart when you saw a text from Sebastian. You were becoming close, messaging each other every day, sharing the occasional phone call in the evening. Your conversations slowly started to turn from updates about your video to more personal things, updates on each other’s day to day lives. You were becoming far too close to someone who you could call a coworker.

You made plans to meet with him in person again, this time to film a video for him. He asked if you wanted to use your room again, wanting to make sure you were still comfortable with him, but you agreed to use his studio. It would be interesting to see where he films all of his other videos.

When you asked if you should bring anything with you, he just grinned and shook his head. “Just your beauty schatz.” You couldn’t see him since you were talking over the phone, but you could practically hear the smile on his face.

You opt for another dress, this time a soft white sundress, giving you the perfect innocent look you knew his viewers would eat up.

Sebastian had insisted on picking you up and driving you to his studio himself. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but a part of him was just desperate to see you in person again as soon as he could.

He offered you a bottle of water and let you pick the music as he drove. You made conversation with him on the way there, while he let his eyes drift back and forth between you and the road ahead.

He parked the car in front of a large beige building. There weren’t really any other businesses around, mostly just a few houses scattered down the road.

Sebastian was quick to hop out of the car and dash over to your side to open the door for you.

“Thank you. You didn’t bring me here just to murder me, did you Seb?” You ask teasingly as you glance at the woods behind the building.

“No schatz, I would never!” He huffs, placing a hand over his chest with a look of fake-hurt on his face.

He grabs his bag from the backseat of the car as well as a backpack, and leads you inside the building. A couple seems to be exiting one of the rooms, the man grins as he spots Sebastian.

“Got the room all nice and warmed up for you.” He says as he gives Sebastian that half hug-handshake that guys do.

You recognize the man almost immediately. Daniel Ricciardo, another very popular, though not quite as popular as Sebastian, pornstar. You’d seen quite a few videos of his. He had a style similar to Sebastian, definitely the dom type. But now you could see that he seemed like an all-smiles person. Maybe it was a high from a good shoot?

The girl with him just stands by, a dazed smile on her face. Sebastian takes a glance at her then back at Daniel.

“Yeah, I can see that.” He laughs.

Daniel looks over at you and smiles holding his hand out for you to shake. “Hi, I’m Daniel, big fan of your videos.” He winks.

You feel your face heat up under the gaze of the dark haired man in front of you. “Thank you.”

“If you ever want another filming partner, let me know.” He says as he steers the girl he’s with outside.

Sebastian feels himself tense up. He can feel the jealousy slowly building up inside of him. You have the right to film with whoever you want, he knows that, but he doesn’t like the thought of sharing.

“C’mon, I’ll show you where we’ll be filming.” He says, his voice slightly gruff.

He guides you down a hall, past a room you recognize from a lot of Sebastian’s other videos, and Daniel’s as well. It’s just a simple room with a couch on one wall, nothing more.

Instead he leads you to a different room. This one is fully furnished, decorated with a bed, a dresser, a closet, even posters and frames on the walls. It looks like a real bedroom.

“I was thinking maybe we could do something a little different for my video too. Maybe something kind of soft?” He asks.

You smile and nod. “Yeah, that sounds fun.”

“And don’t worry, I won’t kiss you.” He smirks. “I wouldn’t want you to fall in love with me or anything.”

You laugh and shake your head.

“Why do you have that rule?” He asks. When he gets a few seconds of silence in return he adds “You don’t have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You sigh. “I don’t know. You’re the only person I’ve actually filmed with, you know that.”

Sebastian feels pride swell up in his chest.

“Kissing against someone’s skin if fine, it’s just… actual kissing just seems… too intimate? I’m already giving you and my viewers so much, I think I want that one thing for just me…”

Sebastian nods. “That makes sense. You want to save some part of yourself from everyone else.”

He sets his bag up by the door again after he pushes it closed and locks it. He pulls his camera out of his backpack along with the tripod for it to rest on.

You sit yourself down on the bed and run your hand over the blanket that lays over it.

“You look like a dream schatz.” He says as he finishes setting up. “Are you ready?”

He presses the record button only when you give him the okay, then saunters over to the bed and sits next to you. He slowly leans his head down, his nose brushing softly against yours.

“No kissing.” You remind him quietly as you try not to let yourself drown in the blue of his eyes.

“No kissing.” He confirms, then drops his head down to your neck.

His lips trail softly against your skin as his hands find their way to your hips. He leans forward as you lean back, laying down with him on top of you as he softly bites at your skin.

You open your legs for him to rest between them and tangle a hand in his soft blonde hair.

He feels a soft tug when he bites down near your collarbone. He smirks to himself, sucking on the skin again, then smoothing his tongue over it.

He rolls his hips against yours, pushing your sundress further up your waist. The rough denim of his jeans feels good through your panties as you lift your hips up to meet his.

He tugs at the bottom of your dress, brushing his hands against your thighs. You lift yourself up enough to pull the dress off and toss it to the side.

Sebastian pulls away just enough to get a good look at you and the white lace set you’ve worn, then sighs. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you bunny?”

“Do you like it?” You ask him.

“I love it.” He dives his head back down to continue kissing along your collarbone, along as much of the newly revealed skin he can.

His hand travels back behind you and swiftly unclasps your bra. He pulls it off your shoulders and tosses it away.

His lips trail down between the valley of your breasts as his hands give them a soft squeeze. He gets lower and lower until he’s reached the waistband of your panties. He looks up at you, his blue eyes wide, asking you a silent question.

You nod your head, wanting nothing more than for him to rid you of your underwear.

He pulls them down with his teeth until they hang around your ankles. You kick them off and watch the man between your legs in anticipation.

He spreads your legs open and lets out a low groan. “You’re so pretty, bunny.” He says, his eyes locked on your cunt.

He lifts your legs over his shoulders and slowly licks a long stripe over your folds until his tongue flicks against your clit.

You gasp at the sensation, squirming when he sucks it into his mouth. He holds onto your thighs with a firm grip, keeping you still so he can take what he wants. Even now, as he’s pleasuring you, he still needs to be the one in control.

“C’mon bunny, let me hear those pretty noises you like to make.” He says, his lips brushing against your folds.

You lay back as he eats you out, tangling your hands in his blonde curls. You arch your back off the bed as his tongue fucks into you.

He moans into you as he feels you try to squirm in his hold. He leans his face as close as he can into you, his nose pushing against your clit as he thrusts his tongue in you.

“Oh god, I’m gonna cum, please may I cum sir?” Your grip on his hair tightens.

“Cum for me.”

You let your orgasm wash over you. Sebastian continues licking you though, taking as much of your release as you’ll give him.

“You taste delicious bunny.” He says as he moves your legs from his shoulders.

He kisses back up your body until he’s eye to eye with you again.

The denim of his jeans was once a welcome feeling between your legs, but now the material makes you shift away in slight discomfort, the material too rough over your sensitive folds.

“Do you think you can be a good little bunny and ride me?” He asks as his fingers reach back down to toy with your clit.

You nod up at him. “I can do it.”

He rolls over, pulling your body on top of his.

You can’t help but think to yourself just how this looks right now, you completely bare, straddling him, completely clothed. You tug his shirt off and take a good look at him. He’s never really shown much skin in his other videos, so you’re a little surprised to see the lines of his torso now on display. The muscles in his chest and abs shift as he moves.

“Like what you see?” He smirks up at you.

You flush at his words and move your hands down to unbuckle his belt and tug his jeans down his legs. His boxers are quick to follow. His cock slaps his abdomen as it’s released. It’s big, not that you hadn’t already pictured Sebastian was packing. It’s good length, and thick as well. The mushroom tip is a pink color, a bead of precum spilling out the top.

You wrap your hand around it, stroking it up and down, you thumb tracing along the slit at the head.

“You think it’ll fit?” He asks as your fingers only just barely touch while wrapped around him.

You can see just how deep it’ll be when inside you as you stroke it, it’ll practically be rearranging your insides.

You lift yourself up and run the head along your folds, collecting your slick. You slowly lower yourself down onto him, taking about half of him before you need to stop. You whimper as you try to get used to the feeling, the stretch that he gives you.

“Aww, am I too big for you bunny?” Sebastian coos, his hand running along your thigh.

You feel yourself squeeze around him impossibly tighter, rocking yourself back and forth on him.

“You can’t do it, can you bunny?” He asks with a fake pout on his face.

“No, no, no, I can do it, I can do it.” You insist. You start to let yourself drop further down until you’re speared on his cock. You can feel the head impossibly deep inside you, his girth pulling you apart unlike anything before.

“I did it, it fits.” You moan as you begin to rock yourself against him.

Sebastian tries not to let himself fall apart too fast. He tries to remember that he’s on camera, that to his audience he’s meant to be the one in control, but he feels that control slipping away as he looks up at you. You’re eyes are squeezed shut as you try to ride him, your hands are pushed against his chest in an attempt to keep yourself balanced. You throw your head back and let out a moan when he hits a certain spot inside you, and he think’s it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

He closes his eyes and pushes himself to sit up, moving your hands to his shoulders. He needs to regain some of his control, and he knows just how to do it.

“C’mon, be a good little bunny and bounce on my cock.” He says, giving you a light tap on the ass.

You grip onto his shoulders as you lift yourself up, then drop back down. You slowly build up your pace until you’re a mess on top of him, your tits bouncing with your movements and your words no longer coherent as they turn into garbled moans.

Your legs are shakey underneath you, your strength fading as you chase your impending orgasm. Sebastian can feel your pace start to slow down. He lands a harsh smack to your ass, causing you to yelp.

“Can’t do it by yourself bunny? You need my help to make you cum?” He asks.

“Please, please, please make me cum.” You beg him.

He starts thrusting himself up into you, reaching even deeper. Each of his sharp thrusts are met with a quick whine from you.

He uses his right hand to play with your clit, rubbing quick circles into it, pulling you even closer to the edge.

“I’m gonna cum.” You moan.

“Cum for me bunny, cum on my cock.” Sebastian groans under you.

Your walls tighten around him as he feels you cum. Your body gives out, falling almost limp against his own. He flips you over and fucks into you. He feels himself near his own release as he pulls out from you and fists himself. His head drops down to your shoulder as his warm cum covers your stomach in white spurts.

He holds himself up on his elbows so he doesn’t crush you underneath him. He pulls away to rest on his knees and looks down at his work.

You’ve got a blissed out smile on your face and a hazy look in your eyes. You reach down to your stomach and swipe a finger through his cum bringing it to your lips. You moan at the taste of him while he smiles and shakes his head.

“You really are trying to kill me schatz.”

The term of endearment brings you back to the present, as does his warmth leaving you so he can turn his camera off. He pulls a soft towel from his bag, wiping his release off you, and yours from between your legs.

“So, did I do good?” You ask, reaching down for his shirt to pull over your head.

“You were amazing.” He smiles, pulling his boxers back on.

He hands you a bottle of water, uncapped by him, and a snack. He grabs the same, and sits next to you on the bed.

He realizes quickly that he could get used to this sight. You in your post-sex glow, wearing his clothes. A light purple mark brandished on your neck from his teeth. He reaches over and brushes his fingers over it.

“Sorry about that.” He apologies sheepishly.

You shake your head and laugh softly. “It’s okay. Have you seen your shoulders?”

He looks down to see the pink scratch marks that trail over his shoulders, some going down to his chest. He smiles to himself, maybe he doesn’t mind being marked up, as long as they’re marks from you.

A nice silence falls over the room as you continue to eat your snack. Your head falls softly against Sebastian’s shoulder as your eyes start to droop closed. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. He wraps one of the blankets around the two of you, cocooning you together.

“Can we stay for a little bit?” You ask him quietly, nuzzling yourself further into him.

“We can stay for as long as you’d like schatz.”

#sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel smut #sv5 #formula one x reader

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mickyschumacher · 8 months

Text

𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐂𝐀𝐊𝐄 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you and lando have a pretty healthy relationship; communication is a breeze between the two of you. and while that seems good, it doesn't help lando is horny 24/7. even the beach isn't safe from him.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), established relationship, some fluff, blowjob, slight handjob, breastplay, poor humour LMAO aka old creepy mens' dicks, no time concept lol, basically lando time!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!lando norris x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: now playing: ice cream cake – red velvet! OKAY YES IK I HAVE REQUESTS BUT I HAD WRITER'S BLOCK TILL THIS OKAY? is it not obvious by the word count? 😭 alexa, play 'easy on me' by adele :( also new banners after i messed around one day! ♡︎ // proof-read-ish!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. ｡ .°• ⋆

You had met Lando two years ago purely on accident. You were at a coffee shop in Brighton, he was visiting a friend there. You ordered a hot chocolate and he had ordered a long black. Somehow the both of you had swapped cups and were wincing at how sweet or bitter the drink was.

Lando had turned his cup around to see who the cup belonged to. Upon seeing your name, unlike a normal person who would ask the barista for another cup or a refund, he had shouted your name across the room.

Lucky for you, you were the only other customer there since it was a slow day. Nevertheless, you looked up in shock. Who yelled out your name? Why? How did they know your name?

You actually purposely avoided eye-contact with his table just in case he was some weird guy. But Lando got your attention after telling you from across that room that you had some sweet taste in drinks.

You raised a brow. Was this some sort of new catcall you didn't know about? But then you had caught the barista's handwriting on 'your' cup. Lando, Long Black.

You scrunched your nose at the cup and looked at him. "You're quite bitter."

It was at that point when Lando had got a clear shot of your face and found his heart racing faster than normal. You were pretty, no gorgeous, no beautiful, no... surreal. Your face was contorted into a grimaced expression at his order which he found amusing. You looked like, what he still claims to this day, part of the shop's couch. The couch was brown and you were wearing a brown sweater.

Honestly, Lando couldn't find the whole situation anymore endearing. So with whatever confidence he had leftover, he walked up to your table and smoothly asked, "Can I get you a sweeter one with my number?"

Now this was when you first had probably got a look of Lando. He had a certain... boyish charm, if you will. The wide grin, sparkling blue eyes, face dotted with the odd freckle or beauty mark. To say he was attractive was an understatement. He looked like one of the main characters in the rom-coms you would binge when you needed a pick me-up.

You said yes. Obviously.

And here you were, two years later. At the beach with Lando, Charles, Carlos, Daniel, and their partners. You were all caught up with F1, always available for Lando. Your perspective of him had changed quite a lot since you had met him. In a good way, of course.

You initially saw him how a lot most of his fans and the media see him. A comedian by day and a moodmaker by night. Always smiling and cheery. Positive and optimistic. But the reality was that Lando struggled with the mental and physical aspects of F1. He didn't always have the confidence and he was stressed and depressed.

But as Lando always said in his interviews, he had found you.

'The best thing that had ever happened to him,' according to Lando himself.

Anyone could see that the two of you loved each other with your entire beings. Neither of you left any stone unturned in your relationship. Most people were jealous of your relationship. The drivers, the media, and especially the fans.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

━━━━━━━━━━━

One thing about Lando that you had learned quite soon after your first time together was that Lando was insatiable. He was sex-driven, horny, full of lust, aroused... all the words in the dictionary for a man like this... 24/7.

One day, you asked him why. Lando only responded with pulling you closer to him, leaving a trail of kisses from your jaw and down to your neck, and saying "You."

You wouldn't say anything did it for him. No in fact, it was specific things that he couldn't take his mind off once he thought about it.

Take right now for example.

Carlos had decided to treat everyone to ice creams, ice lollies, and juice on your trip to the beach in Playa de Bolonia. Innocently and naively, you had chosen the pink ice lolly out the chilly bin. Lando had also not thought anything of it.

Rather Lando had being eyeing you with every spare glance as you were wearing his favourite bikini, the one he had bought you for Christmas as a prank gift in the nice British winter thinking it had been the funniest thing ever. Obviously, he thought you were going to were it but another thing you had learned was that Lando's humour quite often was unmatched and spontaneous.

The bikini itself was simple. An orange, of course, two-piece. The top was held up by two moderately thin straps and hugged your breasts quite nicely. The bikini bottom was as normal as it could get, clinging to your hips. On top of it, you wore a white thin-laced cotton coverup, loosely tied together.

You would say it was an average beach look. Lando would disagree. It was as if God himself had carved you and decided to put you on Earth as reparations for the bad in the world.

But back to the point.

As mentioned, Lando hadn't really thought of the ice lolly. He was too busy trying to get Daniel back with a water gun. Like you said, boyish. It wasn't until he had finally got him back and decided to go sit down with you and grab himself some ice cream.

But when Lando sat down and looked at you, his mind had suddenly turned into shambles. There you were. Under the shade, peaks of sun shining on your skin, holding that pink ice lolly to your mouth.

Lando wasn't quite sure what was worse. The faint pink colour similar to his cock or the way your tongue travelled down the length of it to collect the melting sugary liquid. Or how your lips pressed up on the tip of the ice and pressed down to take an inch more of it into your mouth as if it was his own cock.

To make matters even worse for him, you had failed to capture some of the melting droplets. Lando keenly watched as they fell to your bare part of your chest and even had landed right where he knew your nipple was. His eyes widened ever so slightly and his breath paced when you frowned at the event and used your finger to wipe the sweet liquid off your skin and into your mouth. Some of it had gone too far down, probably pooling near your breasts like he imagined.

What sent him overboard? When you had spotted the stain on your bikini top over your nipple and attempted to rub it away, only making the stain worse and a small bump for your pebbled nipple.

Lando gulped nervously, pants incredibly tight. He closed his eyes and held his hands over his newly-formed hard on, wishing that his mind wasn't full of everything he had just seen. Your lips... your breasts... the way your eyes looked down at the popsicle... if only that was his cock....

"Lando? Dude, do you need to go to the bathroom?" Pierre's voice cut through the air.

Lando snapped his eyes opened and your eyes looked over to your boyfriend.

"W-What?" The British male queried with slight panic. He was not getting caught with a hard-on in front of his friends... there was no way in Earth...

Pierre raised a brow, gesturing to his pants. "You're ice cream is all melted. You need to take your eyes off Y/N at least sometimes, Lando, otherwise you'll never finish... your ice cream, that is," He teased.

You looked down at Lando's pants where his hands laid, covered in the white vanilla ice cream-turned liquid. You and everyone let out an amused laugh at Pierre's joke, shaking your head.

You stood up from the sandy grass you were sat on, dusting yourself off. You extended your hand to Lando, "Come on. I bought extra stuff in the car. Honestly, I thought you were going to lose your trunks by Daniel pantsing you in the water but I guess not."

A howl of laughter came from Charles and Carlos while Daniel cursed himself for not doing it.

Lando blinked, pulling the finger at his fellow drivers. He sighed, grabbing your hand and awkwardly standing up from the area, managing to cover up his bulge swiftly.

The two of you headed to the car as Lando briefly threw out the sticky wrapper and stick into a bin nearby. You opened the boot of the car, grabbing his trunks. "Jesus, could it get any hotter today?" You asked, closing the back door.

"It really couldn't," Lando mused, walking hand-in-hand with you, making you release a groan.

"Lando... now my hand's all sticky, you idiot," You complained, trying to pull apart from his hand.

Lando rolled his eyes, arriving to the empty males changing room. He was about to enter when he saw you stand outside and not follow him. "What are you doing? Come in."

You narrowed your eyes. "It's a male changing room. I'm not going in. What if there's some old man trying to change? I do not need to be scarred for life. My DMs is enough, thanks."

"First of all, there's no one here," Lando stated before shouting a loud 'Hello' into the room, making you redden with embarassment. "See? Secondly, I'm sorry, let me get this straight, your DMs are full of old men's dicks?" Lando looked at you incredulously.

You grinned, shrugging. "It's called being a woman, Lando. You wouldn't get it."

Lando rolled his eyes once again, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you into the changing room.

The room was the opposite of most changing rooms. It was tiled well, clean and fresh as opposed to musty, damp and with paint-chipped walls. There were also no leaky taps or showers or even any graffiti. It was slightly comforting to know that at least people respected some of their public rooms, even in Madrid.

"Wait, also, what if I get old? You don't want to see my shrivelled dick? It should turn you on!" Lando asked with a dramatic gasp.

You looked at your boyfriend through the mirror with a dumfounded expression. Turning, you threw his trunks at his face. "Go change," You laughed, shaking your head.

Lando grinned underneath the trunks as you turned the tap on to wash your sugar-coated hands.

Lando had removed his trunks, left naked with his hard, reddened cock slapping against his stomach, and was about to put on the new ones when a thought passed his mind.

You paused your hand-washing and froze when you felt Lando's arms wrap around your stomach, pulling you close to his bare body. "Lando," You yelped, feeling a shiver cross your body, "What are you doing?"

Lando peered down at you through his thick eyelashes. He tucked his chin into your shoulder, placing a brief kiss. "What?" He asked innocently, "I'm just washing my hands. I can't get the new ones dirty either."

You watched through the mirror as he pressed his body into you, washing his hands under the tap, ridding the tackiness on his hands.

You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his cock push into your backside. It was bare, you realised, as the heat spread into you. Your eyes flickered to Lando through the mirror, squinting at him. He wasn't...

Lando caught your eyes staring hard at him. "Don't look at me like that," He whispered into your ear, a loose grin hanging on his face. His wet fingers travelled to the poorly tied lace coverup you wore, undoing the knot with ease. The coverup fell against your shoulders, revealing your bikini and body in all it's glory.

"You have to clean up as well," Lando shrugged, eyes fixated on you through the mirror. "You made a mess," He murmured, wetting his fingers with the water once more before placing it against your chest.

You pressed your lips tightly, feeling his fingers drive down your skin and underneath your bikini top. Lando's fingers brushed your hardened nipples, making you shudder under his touch. His fingers trailed across your breasts, wiping away any of that sticky residue that you had missed. Bringing his fingers to his mouth and taking a wide lick of them, Lando grinned at you. "You know... I can't stop picturing you sucking my dick like that ice lolly. Never thought I would be jealous of an ice lolly."

You couldn't help but smile in amusement. You pulled away from his hold and turned to face your boyfriend. "Yeah?" You hummed, hands trailing down his chest. Lando had been working out a lot more these days for F1; compared to before his abs had become more prominent and toned. You loved Lando no matter what he looked like, but there was something about the way his skin flushed when you touched his torso.

Lando's breath hitched as your hand had ever so naturally found it's way to his cock. His cock, if you could say it, was pretty. It was average in length and with a nice, filling girth, stretching all of your holes wide.

Your fingers brushed across the tip of his head, just grazing his slit. You could feel Lando jolt in your hands as he muttered, “Fuck.”

You opened your mouth, letting a drop of saliva full into his cock. Hand wrapped around it, you gently rubbed natural lube up and down his shaft. Lando’s jaw clenched at the warm liquid nestling around his cock, letting a sharp exhale through gritted teeth.

Slowly you sunk down to your knees. The tiled floor was cold against your burning skin but it didn’t matter: you were too focused on what was right in front of you; cockdrunk. Your tongue darted out to swipe your lips before pressing a light kiss to his cock. Lando could feel himself twitch, aching to be in your mouth.

He watched as your lips opened like they did on that ice lolly. Going down in his cock, your lips stretched and your mouth hollowed.

Lando groaned at the warmth surrounding his cock. He bit down on his lip, watching his cock disappear into your mouth. Your eyes were on him as you sucked him, teeth barely grazing his skin.

"Fuck, you look so pretty like this, Y/N," Lando sighed out, "On your knees for me. I can't imagine the mess you made between those legs of yours, hmm?"

You moaned in response, sending a vibration around his cock. You briefly pulled away from him, making Lando grunt in slight annoyance at the loss. "These lips, my pussy.... all yours," You winked at him before returning to his cock.

Lando tensed at your words, letting a grin overtake him. "Yeah? Let's see about that throat, baby?" His hands reached your half dry and half damp, salty hair. Wrapping those long tresses around his hand and wrist, he tightened his grip. He could feel you open up your throat as he guided his cock down the tighter tunnel.

Lando's rasping groan made you clench your thighs, holding a barrier to the wetness leaking at of you. You could feel him begin to move his hips, beginning to push his cock into your throat.

Fighting the urge to gag around his cock, you tried hard to relax your cheeks and mouth, allowing every inch of him to be seated in your throat.

He flickered his eyes to you. Watching you take him in his mouth was a pleasure of its own. Your big eyes were glassy with tears of arousal and a haze of lust, sweat and saliva lingered at every edge of your skin, and your lips were puffy and red. Trailing his eyes further down, he spotted your bare neck in dire need of kisses, but that wasn't the most striking thing about it. It was the slight bulge of his cock in your throat making it's presence known.

Jesus...

Lando instinctively closed his eyes upon feeling your hands touch his balls. You rubbed them gently, feeling your head bob at an increased rate to match the sudden pace of Lando's cock in your throat.

"Fuck, fuck... I..." Lando moaned. "I'm gonna cum!" Lando hissed out, feeling a familiar bubbling feeling overcome. His thrusts become harder and faster, your nose flushed with his skin.

His moans became irregular and higher, chasing his release. "Fuck...." A guttural groan fell from his lips. Hot, salty white strips of his cum coated the inside of your mouth, swirling around after each drop was sucked from your lips. Almost painfully, Lando removed himself from your mouth. His chest rose up and down as he breathed out heavily.

An admiring smile came from Lando while he pulled you up to meet his face. He pushed your sweaty hair back. "That mouth of yours is evil," He narrowed his eyes playfully.

"You should shut me up then," You quipped back, sticking out your tongue that still had his cum on it.

Lando's eyes sparkled with amusement before he brought his lips to yours, darting his tongue into your mouth. The urgency in the action was understated. God, he could taste himself in you. His hands encapsulated your waist, flushing your barely clothed body to close his naked one. Your own hands travelled everywhere across his chest as the two of you kissed each other.

The muffled moans from you made Lando want to hear them out loud. Slowly he moved from your lips to your jaw. "Let me hear you, baby," He breathed out, placing smaller kisses as he reached your neck.

You let out a small whimper, neck tilting so Lando could get more access. Lando grinned at the sight of your bare neck, leaving small little nibbles across your skin. His lips eventually became settled in an area between your ear and collarbone, beginning to suck at your warmth.

"Lando," You moaned, "No, the others will realise."

Your refutes were ill-attempted even for yourself. You were dazed at the suction of his lips. His nose buried into your neck while he created a fresh layer of purple against your sun-kissed skin.

Lando released himself from your neck, eyeing down his creation with a smirk. "There. If they couldn't tell from your hair, they'll definitely know now."

You narrowed your eyes, turning to the mirror only for your eyes to widen in shock. "Jesus fucking Christ, Lando," You peered at the big purple brown splotch on your skin. "As if the 20 minutes we've spent here wasn't enough," You whined.

Lando laughed softly, standing behind you with his arms around your waist and chin resting on your head. "Well... if you make it through the shame, I can't wait to properly fuck you when we get home. You must know how much I love the way you look when I’m inside you."

Your head fell against his chest with a pout. "Why not now?"

Lando grinned before pressing a kiss to your head "Like you said... it's been 20 minutes."

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 smut #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris

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