#it just makes it more awkward and almost uncomfortable to look at

[be4chywritez]

sweet nothing | oscar piastri

oscar piastri x heiress!reader

I find myself runnin’ home to your sweet nothings

request : heiress of mclaren and oscar they meet at like a dinner at her estate or something and her dad or like father figure asks if oscar is single, and oscar says yes and her father figure tells them to go on a date and they end up going out maybe oscar is a lil asshole😊

beachy’s masterlist🐚

You brush the dirt off your hands, glancing proudly at the roses you’ve just planted. The soil is warm under your fingers, and you lean back, wiping sweat from your forehead. A small smile plays on your lips as you admire the neat rows of blooms, but your peace is broken when you hear your name being called.

You turn, blinking against the sunlight, and spot your grandfather standing by the patio, his brows furrowed in that way he always does when he’s trying to look serious. Lando stands beside him, grinning widely, and next to him is someone you don’t recognize—a tall guy with messy brown hair and a quiet expression.

Your grandfather calls again, his voice a little sharper now. “Come here for a moment.”

You dust your hands off on your shorts and shuffle over, feeling the light breeze cool the sweat on your skin. Lando’s grin widens as you approach. “Still playing in the dirt, I see,” he teases.

“Always,” you respond, flashing him a playful smile. Your gaze drifts to the new guy, and your curiosity piques. He stands a little more stiffly than Lando, like he’s not quite sure what to do with himself. There’s something about the way he glances at you—polite, but distant—that makes you feel like you’re meeting someone important.

“This is Oscar Piastri,” Lando says, nudging the guy next to him. “Newest McLaren driver.”

Oscar smiles at you, though it’s small and a bit shy, like he’s not used to all the attention. “Hi,” he says, his accent lilting in a way that catches your attention.

“Hi,” you reply, a little awkward, but you can’t help but smile back. You try to remember if you’ve heard his name before, but your mind draws a blank. Racing was never something you followed closely, even if it was always around you.

Before you can say anything else, your grandfather clears his throat, his eyes twinkling with something that makes you uneasy. “Oscar’s a fine driver,” he says, his voice heavy with authority. “I think it would be good for you two to spend some time together.”

You blink, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. “Wait… what?”

Your grandfather’s expression doesn’t falter. He crosses his arms, the hint of a smirk on his lips. “Oscar, are you single?” he asks, turning the conversation before you can even process what he’s suggesting.

Oscar looks a little startled, his eyes darting from your grandfather to you, then back again. “Uh, yes, sir,” he answers, and you notice his fingers fidget slightly, like he’s not sure how to react either.

“Good,” your grandfather replies, his tone firm. “Then I suggest you take my granddaughter out on a date.”

You feel your cheeks warm, your mouth dropping open slightly. “A—date?”

Oscar looks as surprised as you feel, and for a second, you’re not sure who’s more uncomfortable. But then he nods, his voice soft but steady. “If that’s what you want, sir.”

You don’t know what to say. You glance at Oscar, who looks just as confused as you are, but there’s something in his gaze—something careful and maybe even curious. He doesn’t seem like the type to argue with your grandfather, and honestly, neither are you.

Lando, ever the instigator, lets out a low chuckle. “Well, this just got interesting.”

You smile awkwardly, not sure what to make of it all. Oscar offers you a small, almost apologetic smile, and you feel a strange flutter in your chest. Maybe it won’t be so bad. He seems nice enough, and if nothing else, it’ll be a chance to get to know him.

The next day, you find yourself standing in front of a trendy restaurant in the heart of the city. It’s not the quiet, tucked-away café you were imagining, but rather a bustling spot with large windows, modern decor, and a steady stream of people coming and going. Your stomach twists with nervous excitement as you spot Oscar standing by the entrance, looking cool and collected in a crisp white shirt and dark jeans.

“Hey,” he greets you with a brief smile, his hands in his pockets. There’s a casual confidence in the way he stands, but something about his demeanor feels a little… distant, like he’s already halfway checked out of the conversation before it even begins.

“Hey,” you reply, smiling back as he steps aside to let you walk in first. The restaurant hums with energy—clinking glasses, soft chatter, and the occasional laugh. You feel a little out of place, like maybe this is fancier than you were expecting.

Oscar pulls out your chair, but there’s something about the motion that feels more like routine than a thoughtful gesture. As you sit down, he moves quickly to his own seat, already glancing at the menu like this is just another pit stop in his day.

“So, you like this place?” you ask, trying to break the ice.

“Yeah,” Oscar says with a short nod, eyes still scanning the menu. “It’s close by, and the food’s good.” His tone is polite, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s keeping things at arm’s length.

You fiddle with your napkin, glancing around at the other patrons—groups of friends laughing together, couples holding hands. You can’t help but feel a little self-conscious. You were hoping for something quieter, more personal, but this feels… different.

The waiter comes by, and you both place your orders. Oscar seems at ease, chatting with the waiter casually, but when his attention turns back to you, there’s a moment of awkward silence. You search for something to say, but it’s hard to get a read on him. He’s polite, sure, but there’s a wall up—one you can’t quite figure out how to get past.

“So, what do you do for fun?” you ask, trying to steer the conversation into something light.

Oscar leans back, shrugging a little. “Mostly training, to be honest. Racing takes up a lot of my time.”

You nod, not sure what to say next. He’s not giving you much to work with, and you start to wonder if this was a bad idea. Maybe he’s just busy, or maybe he’s just not interested. Either way, the conversation feels stilted, like you’re trying too hard to fill the gaps.

“Do you follow F1?” he asks, breaking the silence.

You bite your lip, feeling a little embarrassed. “Honestly, not really,” you admit. “I mean, I know about it because of my family, but I’ve never really been that into it.”

Oscar raises an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Kind of ironic, don’t you think?”

You flush slightly, not sure how to take that. “Yeah, I guess so.”

He doesn’t push further, just takes a sip of his water and glances out the window, his mind seemingly elsewhere. You feel a flicker of disappointment. This wasn’t how you imagined your first date going—Oscar seemed nice enough, but there’s a coolness to him that you can’t shake.

As the food arrives, you try to make the best of the situation, steering the conversation back to lighter topics. You talk about your garden again, hoping to spark some interest, but while Oscar listens, he doesn’t offer much in return. Every now and then, he glances at his phone, not enough to be rude, but enough to make you wonder if he’s distracted by something else.

“Sorry,” he says once, slipping the phone back into his pocket. “Just… work stuff.”

You nod, trying to brush it off, but it adds to the growing sense that maybe this date isn’t a priority for him. You had expected a chance to connect, to get to know him beyond the racer image, but it feels like you’re barely scratching the surface.

Still, you don’t want to give up just yet.

“Have you always wanted to be a driver?” you ask, genuinely curious.

Oscar’s gaze flicks to you, his expression softening slightly. “Yeah, since I was a kid. I was pretty focused on it, even when I was younger. It’s all I’ve ever really wanted to do.”

For a moment, you see a glimpse of something more—a passion that runs deep, something that makes him tick. But just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone again, his expression neutral once more.

The rest of the meal passes in a blur of small talk and polite conversation, but the spark you had hoped for never really comes. As the check arrives, Oscar pulls out his card without hesitation, glancing at you with a half-smile.

“Ready to head out?” he asks.

You nod, feeling a little deflated, but you don’t want to show it. Maybe this was just a bad day for him. Maybe he’s just not the type to open up easily. Either way, you feel like there’s something you’re missing, something that keeps him at a distance.

As you both step out into the cool evening air, Oscar walks you to the curb where his car is parked. He pauses for a moment, looking at you, and for a brief second, you wonder if he’s going to say something that might change the tone of the evening.

But instead, he just smiles—a little tired, a little distracted. “It was nice hanging out with you,” he says, his tone polite but nothing more.

“Yeah, it was,” you reply, trying to match his energy, though the words feel hollow.

Oscar opens the car door for you, and as you slide in, you can’t help but wonder what’s really going on behind those guarded eyes. There’s something he’s not telling you—something that keeps him from fully being here with you.

As he drives you home, the silence between you grows, and you find yourself staring out the window, wondering if maybe you were hoping for too much too soon.

Despite the awkwardness of the first date, Oscar lingers in your thoughts more than you’d like to admit. There’s something about him—his quiet intensity, the way he carries himself—that draws you in, even if he hasn’t fully opened up to you yet. Maybe it’s just the mystery of it all. Or maybe it’s the fact that he’s unlike anyone you’ve dated before.

Your crush sneaks up on you slowly. You catch yourself thinking about what you’ll wear next time you see him. You imagine different scenarios in your head—how the next date might go, whether he’ll be more relaxed, more present. You convince yourself that it’s just a matter of time.

When the next race rolls around, you decide to attend. You tell yourself it’s because you’re supporting McLaren, but deep down, you know it’s because of Oscar. Even though things were a little off between you two, there’s a part of you that’s eager to see him again. Maybe things will be different this time.

The race is packed with spectators, and the air hums with excitement. As you weave through the crowds, you feel a mixture of nerves and anticipation. Watching Oscar on the track feels different now—you’re not just another fan in the stands. You’re here for him, and that thought makes your heart race a little faster.

The race itself is thrilling, and you can’t help but feel happiness as Oscar crosses the finish line. He doesn’t win, but he holds his own, finishing in a solid position. You smile, thinking about how you’ll congratulate him afterward.

After the race, you find your way to the paddock, your heart pounding in your chest as you spot Oscar among the throngs of people. He’s surrounded by his team, all smiles and handshakes as they celebrate a job well done. When he sees you, his expression flickers for a moment—recognition, maybe a touch of something softer—but it’s gone just as quickly as it appears.

“Hey,” you greet him, your voice a little too bright. “Congrats on the race.”

“Thanks,” Oscar replies, offering you a polite smile. His demeanor is cool, but not unfriendly—just… reserved. You start to notice the subtle distance between you, like he’s here, but not entirely.

“Maybe we could grab a drink later?” you suggest, your tone casual, but your nerves bubbling beneath the surface.

Oscar glances at his watch, then back at you. “Yeah, maybe. Let’s see how the rest of the day goes.”

It’s not a no, but it’s not exactly the enthusiastic yes you were hoping for either. Still, you brush it off, telling yourself that he’s probably just tired from the race.

You stand there for a moment, watching Oscar disappear into the crowd. There’s a strange feeling lingering in your chest—something about the interaction seemed… off. But before you can get too deep in your thoughts, a familiar voice breaks through.

“Already scaring him off?” Lando teases, sidling up to you with his usual playful grin.

You turn to him, laughing despite yourself. “Please, Lando. I’m not that terrifying.”

He leans against the nearby barrier, looking at you with a twinkle in his eye. “Nah, just a little intimidating with your… I don’t know, your knowledge of roses or whatever.”

You roll your eyes, giving him a light shove. “Not my fault you have no appreciation for fine horticulture.”

“Fine horticulture,” he repeats with mock seriousness, his lips twitching into a smirk. “But seriously, how’s it going? Did Oscar hit you with that ‘strong and silent’ routine, or is he actually saying words now?”

You pause, trying to figure out how to answer. “He’s… quiet, yeah. But I think there’s more to him than he lets on.”

Lando hums, crossing his arms. “Oh, there’s definitely more. Just give him time. Maybe flash him a few more of those smiles—you know, the ones that make people all… swoony.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’ll be sure to use my superpowers wisely, then.”

Before Lando can retort, Oscar’s figure appears again, cutting through the crowd and making his way back toward you both. You feel a flutter of surprise. He was distant before, but now there’s a new intensity in his gaze.

“Hey,” Oscar says, glancing briefly at Lando before turning to you. “I was thinking, maybe we could grab those drinks after all?”

You blink, taken aback. “Yeah? I thought you weren’t sure about it earlier.”

Oscar shrugs slightly, the corners of his mouth lifting into the faintest of smiles. “Changed my mind. If you’re still up for it.”

Lando snickers quietly next to you, clearly amused by the shift in Oscar’s tone. “Well, that sounds like a yes to me.”

You can’t help but smile, a warm excitement bubbling up inside you. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

The bar Oscar takes you to is tucked away in the city, with low lighting and soft music humming in the background. It’s more intimate than the first restaurant—smaller, cozier. It makes you feel like this is something real, like there’s something between you both that’s beginning to take shape.

You sit across from each other at a small table, nursing drinks, and for a while, the conversation flows. Oscar’s a bit more relaxed than usual, and it makes you feel like maybe you’re finally cracking the surface, finally getting to see the person behind the cool, quiet exterior.

“So,” you say, taking a sip of your drink. “What made you change your mind? You seemed… hesitant before.”

Oscar looks at you for a moment, like he’s trying to come up with the right words. “I guess I just thought it might be fun after all. Figured it couldn’t hurt to get to know each other better.”

You smile, feeling a flutter of hope. “Yeah. I’m glad you did.”

For a few more minutes, the conversation rolls on, and you find yourself leaning into it—into him. He’s attentive, even charming in his own way, and you can’t help but feel your heart begin to race a little faster. But then, just as things seem to settle into a comfortable rhythm, his phone lights up on the table.

You catch a glimpse of the screen out of the corner of your eye—a name you don’t recognize, followed by a few messages that he quickly swipes away without reading. It’s subtle, almost like he’s trying not to let you see it, but the moment leaves a faint unease in the back of your mind.

You push the feeling aside, convincing yourself it’s nothing. Probably just a friend or someone from the team. But when his phone lights up again, this time with a more persistent vibration, it’s harder to ignore.

“Everything okay?” you ask, trying to keep your voice casual.

“Yeah,” Oscar says, his tone clipped as he checks his phone again before silencing it. “Just some messages. Nothing important.”

You nod, but the way he’s so quick to brush it off leaves you feeling unsettled. It’s like there’s a part of him still walled off, something he’s not telling you. But you don’t press, don’t want to ruin the moment.

As the evening goes on, you notice him glancing at his phone a few more times. The distraction is subtle, but it’s there, casting a small shadow over what otherwise feels like a perfect night.

You try to brush it off, reminding yourself that he’s a busy guy—he probably has a million things going on at once. But as the drinks dwindle and the conversation slows, you can’t help but feel like there’s something—or someone—else that’s occupying his thoughts.

The days after your drink date are… strange. You had hoped that spending more time with Oscar would bring you closer together, but instead, things feel more distant than ever. He’s not cold, not exactly, but there’s a guardedness to him that wasn’t there before.

He texts you, asks how you’re doing, but it’s never as warm as you want it to be. You tell yourself that maybe he’s just busy, that it’s just part of being a driver in such a high-stakes sport. But deep down, there’s a little voice in your head whispering that something isn’t right.

You push it aside, trying to focus on the excitement of seeing him again. When he suggests going to the beach, you jump at the chance, eager to spend more time with him.

The breeze is warm, a gentle contrast to the coolness of the sand beneath your feet as you walk side by side with Oscar. The beach is quieter than usual, only a few scattered people, and the rhythmic crash of the waves fills the gaps between your conversation. There’s a lightness to the moment—a sense of possibility. You sneak a glance at Oscar, feeling a small spark of excitement flutter in your chest.

You tell yourself not to read too much into it. But there’s a softness in his smile when he looks at you, a hint of something more, and you can’t help but wonder if this is what falling for someone is supposed to feel like.

“You’ve been quiet,” Oscar says, his voice cutting through the hum of the waves. He nudges you lightly with his arm, a playful gesture that makes you smile despite the nervousness you’ve felt creeping in since the start of the date.

“Just… thinking,” you reply, your eyes drifting out to the horizon where the sun is starting to dip low. “This is nice, though. I like spending time with you.”

You mean it. Despite the moments of awkwardness and the hesitations that have clouded your other dates, something about being here—walking with him along the shoreline—feels right. You’ve never had a relationship that felt this natural before. There’s always been some underlying expectation, some hidden motive from the people in your life who wanted you for your family’s name and status.

But with Oscar, you want to believe it’s different. You want to believe he likes you for you.

Oscar clears his throat, breaking the moment. “Yeah, it’s been good,” he says, his tone almost too casual. There’s a flicker of discomfort behind his words, like he’s trying to keep things light.

Before you can dwell on it, a voice cuts through the air, drawing both of your attentions.

“Oscar! Is that really you?”

You turn, and your heart sinks as you see a tall, stunning woman walking toward the two of you. She’s dressed effortlessly, her dark hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, and she carries herself with a confidence that immediately makes you feel small.

Oscar’s reaction is immediate—his posture stiffens, his eyes darting away from yours as he rubs the back of his neck. “Hey, uh… didn’t expect to see you here.

Her eyes flick between you and Oscar, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she takes in the sight of you together. “It’s been a while,” she says, her tone smooth, easy. “Didn’t think you’d be back in town.”

You stand there awkwardly, unsure of what to do or say, and the moment stretches painfully long. The familiarity between them is palpable, and a sinking feeling starts to form in your stomach.

“I’m just here for a bit,” Oscar replies, his voice suddenly lacking the warmth it had moments ago. He seems uncomfortable—like he’s trying to get through this interaction as quickly as possible.

The woman shifts her gaze to you, her smile widening just enough to make you feel scrutinized. “And who’s this?” she asks, as if you’re a new accessory she’s appraising.

You offer a small, polite smile, though your chest feels tight. “I’m—”

“Just a friend,” Oscar cuts in quickly, his voice sharp and clipped.

The words hang in the air, and your breath catches. You look at him, confused, hurt—but he won’t meet your gaze. The woman gives a small, almost amused laugh before waving it off.

“Well, I won’t keep you,” she says with a teasing tone, her eyes lingering on Oscar for just a second too long. “Catch you later, Piastri.”

With that, she walks away, her footsteps light on the sand, leaving you standing there in stunned silence. The sound of the waves seems distant now, like you’re underwater, and the weight of what Oscar just said presses heavily on your chest.

Just a friend.

You force yourself to swallow the lump forming in your throat, pretending the words didn’t sting as much as they did. “Who was that?” you ask quietly, trying to keep your voice steady.

Oscar sighs, his hand dropping to his side. “No one important,” he says, though the tension in his voice betrays him. He turns to look at you, but there’s something distant in his eyes—something guarded that wasn’t there before.

You nod slowly, feeling a pang of disappointment settle deep in your chest. The connection you thought you were building suddenly feels fragile, like it could shatter at any moment.

For the rest of the walk along the beach, neither of you says much. The easy conversation, the subtle glances—all of it feels like it’s gone. Replaced by a silence that only grows heavier with each step.

You’re quiet when you get home, your heart heavy with the weight of everything that happened at the beach. You try to shake it off, but the look in Oscar’s eyes, the tension between him and Ellie—it’s all you can think about.

Your grandfather is in the sitting room when you walk in, his expression softening when he sees you.

“How was the date?” he asks, his voice gentle.

You open your mouth to respond, but the words get caught in your throat. You want to tell him it was fine, that everything’s okay—but you can’t lie. Not this time.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice trembling, “don’t force people to like me.”

Your grandfather’s face falls, his brow furrowing in concern. He reaches out to you, but you pull away, the tears already starting to form.

“I just… I don’t want to be an obligation,” you say, your voice breaking. “I want someone to like me because they want to—not because they feel like they have to.”

That night, after you’ve retreated to your room, your grandfather makes a call. He doesn’t tell you about it, doesn’t let on that he’s taken matters into his own hands. When Oscar picks up, he’s met with your grandfather’s firm voice.

“I’m sending the two of you to the ranch in Texas,” your grandfather says. “You’ll leave tomorrow.”

Oscar tries to protest, but your grandfather won’t hear it. “You’ll go,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You owe her that much.”

You sat in the plush leather seat of your grandfather’s private jet, the tension between you and Oscar thick and palpable. Neither of you had spoken much since the beach incident, and you weren’t sure how you felt about being sent off to Texas together. The thought of spending more time with him, especially after everything that had happened, made your stomach churn.

Oscar sat across from you, his eyes flickering up occasionally, as if he was gathering the courage to say something, but each time, the words seemed to die in his throat. You focused on the window instead, watching the runway lights blur as the plane took off.

“I know you’re upset,” Oscar finally said, breaking the silence, his voice quiet yet steady. “I want to explain, but I don’t think words are enough right now.”

You glanced at him, biting the inside of your cheek. Part of you wanted to hear him out, to understand why he had been so distant, but another part of you didn’t care anymore. The truth was, you felt used—like you were just another part of the game, just another person he didn’t really care about.

“I don’t want to hear it right now,” you said, shaking your head. “We’ll go on this trip, but when we get back to London, we tell my grandfather that it didn’t work out. And Oscar…” You hesitated, the weight of your next words crushing you. “Please don’t let anyone know that I was the other woman.”

Oscar’s face twisted, regret filling his expression. “I swear, I won’t say a word.”

You nodded, turning away from him. The rest of the flight passed in heavy silence.

When you arrived in Texas, the sprawling estate greeted you with its endless fields and the familiar scent of wildflowers. Despite the awkwardness between you and Oscar, the comfort of being home, away from the pressures of your world, settled over you. As soon as you were alone, you made your way to the garden.

The garden had always been your escape—a place where you could get lost in the rhythm of tending to the plants. As you knelt in the dirt, your fingers delicately brushing over the leaves of the roses, you found solace in the simplicity of the task. You weren’t sure how long you’d been there, but the sun was starting to dip low in the sky when you finally stood up, wiping your dirty hands on your jeans.

Unbeknownst to you, Oscar had been watching from a distance. He stayed near the old oak tree at the edge of the garden, watching as you moved gracefully through the rows of flowers, completely absorbed in your work. There was something peaceful about the way you lost yourself here—so different from the world of fast cars and expectations.

He leaned back against the tree, his mind racing. He wasn’t sure how he’d fix this—how he could make things right after everything he had done. Watching you, Oscar realized how much he had hurt you, and it wasn’t just the beach incident that weighed on him. It was everything—the emotional distance, the Ellie situation, the lies he had told himself.

But for now, he kept his distance, unsure of how to approach you or if you’d even want him to. You, lost in your world of flowers and dirt, were completely unaware of his gaze.

As the night crept in, you finally left the garden, retreating back inside the house. Oscar stayed behind, his thoughts heavy. For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t thinking about his career, his public image, or what other people wanted from him. He was thinking about you.

The morning sun was bright as you headed to the stables, hoping a horseback ride might clear your head. Despite still being upset with Oscar, you welcomed the chance to be alone in the fresh air.

As you prepared your horse, Oscar approached, looking out of place. He glanced around nervously and gave you a hesitant smile.

“Morning,” he said. “I thought I’d join you, if that’s okay.”

You barely glanced at him, focusing on securing your saddle. “Sure. If you think you’re up for it.”

Oscar tried to act composed, though his eyes darted nervously at the horses. He awkwardly mounted his steed with the help of a stable hand, gripping the reins as if they were a lifeline.

As you led the way onto the trail, your horse trotting confidently, Oscar’s horse lagged behind, its rider stiff and uncertain. You could hear him muttering to himself, trying to calm his nerves.

“So, what’s it like riding horses?” Oscar called out, his voice a bit too loud, trying to mask his fear.

“It’s not as bad as you think,” you replied curtly, keeping your distance both physically and emotionally. You weren’t in the mood for small talk, especially not with Oscar, given the recent tension.

The trail wound through picturesque fields, and as the minutes passed, Oscar’s discomfort was evident. His horse seemed to be enjoying itself a little too much, leading to a few unplanned jolts that made Oscar clutch the reins tightly.

At one point, his horse decided to trot faster, and Oscar’s face turned pale as he tried to control it. “I think it’s going to bolt!” he shouted, trying to sound calm but clearly panicking.

You slowed your horse, turning to watch with a mixture of amusement and sympathy. “Just breathe and let the horse do the work. It’s not going to run off.”

Oscar managed to regain some control, though he looked more like he was bracing for a bumpy ride than enjoying it. “Easy for you to say,” he replied, trying to laugh off his fear. “You make it look so effortless.”

You remained distant, nodding but not engaging further. “Just keep your hands steady and trust the horse.”

By the time you returned to the stables, Oscar dismounted with an audible sigh of relief. His face was flushed, but there was a small smile of accomplishment as he looked at you. “Thanks for letting me tag along. I guess it wasn’t as bad as I thought, but I think I’ll stick to less adventurous activities in the future.”

You gave a noncommittal nod, barely meeting his eyes. “You did alright. Maybe next time, we’ll try something less… unpredictable.”

Finally, the time came to return to London. The flight was quiet, each of you lost in your own thoughts. When you arrived back at your grandfather’s estate, you both faced him, sitting in his study.

“We talked,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “And we’ve decided that it’s best if we just remain friends.”

Your grandfather’s gaze shifted between you and Oscar, disappointment and concern etched on his face. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” you affirmed, nodding firmly. “It’s the best decision for both of us.”

Oscar added, “I appreciate everything your grandfather’s done for me, but I agree. We should just be friends.”

Your grandfather sighed, looking at Oscar with a mix of sympathy and understanding. “Very well. I’ll respect your decision.”

As you and Oscar left the study, you found yourself rushing toward your room, letting the tears fall freely down your cheeks.

You weren’t sure why you were crying, maybe it’s because you genuinely felt something with him or you thought you did.

Oscar Piastri was making you go crazy.

Beachy’s notes🐚: Mama is a lil rusty😞

[maitother]

Beneath The Darkness

Lunch with Choso (Chapter 7)

ᯓ★ Choso invites you to lunch to provide a welcome break from work. At the restaurant, you unexpectedly run into Suguru, who greets you with an air of confidence but shows clear disdain for Choso.

ᯓ★ Trope: Serial killer!Suguru & Journalist!fmc

ᯓ★Genre: Smut, dark romance, thriller, may contain gore

ᯓ★ Previous chapter

⚠️Doesn't contain smut and gore.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡

The clock ticked slowly toward noon, and the office buzz felt particularly stifling. You sighed, rubbing your temples as you stared at the mountain of paperwork on your desk. Just as you were about to dive back in, Choso leaned over the partition that separated your desks.

“Hey,” he said, his tone light but filled with concern. “How about we take a break? I know a great little place nearby. You could use some fresh air.”

You hesitated, glancing at your work. “I don’t know, I really should—”

“Come on,” he urged, a warm smile on his face. “You can’t let Ms. Shinoda run you into the ground. It’s just lunch. I promise to get you back in time.”

With a reluctant smile, you finally relented. “Alright, lunch it is.”

..

The restaurant was cozy, with soft music playing in the background. You took a deep breath, letting the warm scent of food wash over you. Choso led you to a small table by the window, where sunlight streamed in, momentarily lifting your spirits.

As you settled in, your conversation flowed easily, Choso’s easygoing nature providing a welcome distraction. He cracked jokes, making you laugh despite the lingering stress from work.

Just as you were enjoying a moment of levity, the door swung open, and in walked Suguru, his presence commanding the room. He spotted you almost immediately, his eyes narrowing slightly before a smirk appeared on his lips.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Suguru said, approaching your table with an air of confidence that made your heart skip a beat.

You felt a sudden rush of warmth and anxiety as he leaned against the table. “And who’s your friend?” He directed his gaze at Choso, an edge of challenge in his tone.

“This is Choso,” you introduced, trying to keep the atmosphere light. “He’s my coworker.”

Choso stood up, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you.” His voice was friendly, but there was an underlying tension in the air.

Suguru took Choso’s hand, his grip firm but his smile barely masking his discontent. “Yeah, nice to meet you too.” The way he said it left a sour taste in the air, as if Suguru was sizing him up.

Choso’s smile faltered slightly, but he recovered quickly. “So, what brings you here?” he asked, attempting to diffuse the awkwardness.

“Just grabbing a bite. You know how it is,” Suguru replied, his gaze flicking back to you, the tension easing slightly as he softened his demeanor. “I hope I’m not interrupting your lunch.”

You shook your head, feeling caught in a strange triangle. “Not at all. Just enjoying some time away from work.”

“Good,” Suguru said, flashing a charming smile that made your heart race. But his eyes remained sharp, studying Choso with a hint of disdain. “Just be careful. You never know who you’re dealing with.”

Choso seemed taken aback, but he kept his composure. “Right. I’ll keep that in mind.”

The atmosphere felt charged, as if something unspoken hung between the three of you. You tried to lighten the mood. “So, Suguru, what did you order?”

He shrugged, still keeping his gaze fixed on you. “Just the usual. Nothing special.”

You could feel Choso’s unease, and it made you uncomfortable. “Well, it’s good to see you,” you said, trying to keep the peace. “We should catch up sometime.”

Suguru’s eyes flickered with interest, but the tension with Choso was palpable. “Yeah, we should. Maybe I’ll swing by the café later. I’d like to hear more about your work,” he replied, his tone casual, yet you sensed an underlying challenge in his words.

As Suguru finally stepped back, giving you a lingering look, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this encounter had shifted something within you, something both thrilling and unnerving. Choso cleared his throat, breaking the moment.

“Uh, well, nice meeting you, Suguru. Enjoy your lunch,” he said, his voice slightly strained.

Suguru smirked again. “You too, Choso. Keep an eye on her.”

As Suguru walked away, you exchanged a glance with Choso, who was now frowning slightly, the friendly atmosphere turning tense once more.

“Is it just me, or did he seem a little… possessive?” Choso asked, his brow furrowed.

You shrugged, uncertain. “Maybe. He’s just… intense.”

Choso nodded, but the concern was evident in his eyes. “Just be careful, okay? I know he’s a friend of yours, but he seems a bit… unpredictable.”

You offered a small smile, but inside, you felt a swirl of emotions—attraction, confusion, and a hint of fear.

..

As you settled back into your desk at the office, the hum of the workspace faded into a blur. Your mind kept drifting to Suguru’s sharp remarks and the way he had eyed Choso. The tension between them had felt palpable, and you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that Suguru’s disdain was more than just casual rivalry.

Shaking your head, you tried to refocus on your tasks. "It’s just lunch," you muttered to yourself, trying to shrug off the unease. Yet, the image of Suguru's smirk lingered, tugging at your thoughts

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Suguru walked down the bustling street, hands stuffed in his pockets. The city buzzed around him, but his mind was far from the noise. Images of the restaurant replayed in his head—how effortlessly you and Choso had laughed together, how your eyes sparkled with amusement at his jokes.

A tight knot of jealousy formed in his chest. He couldn’t believe he felt this way. Why did it bother him so much? He didn’t want to care about who you spent time with, yet the thought of you and Choso together made his blood boil.

He stopped for a moment, staring into the distance, grappling with feelings that were foreign to him. “What the hell is wrong with me?” he muttered, frustration seeping into his voice. He couldn’t shake the need to keep you close, even if it meant confronting the darker side of himself.

With renewed determination, he resolved to find a way to make you his, no matter the cost.

..

Suguru leaned against a graffiti-covered wall, pulling out his phone. His heart raced as he typed a quick message to Satoru, the tension of his emotions compelling him to act.

"Need to speed things up with the girl. Let’s discuss the plan."

He hit send, feeling a mix of urgency and dread. A moment later, his phone buzzed.

Satoru’s reply came almost instantly:

"Oh? What’s gotten into you? You’ve been so smitten lately!"

Suguru scowled, his irritation rising.

"This isn’t a joke, Satoru. Just get ready."

Satoru’s teasing tone was relentless.

"Come on, Suguru! You can’t be serious about wanting to kill her so soon. Is it really that bad?"

Suguru clenched his jaw, fighting back the urge to reveal the turmoil roiling inside him.

"It’s not about that. It’s just… easier this way."

"Easier?" Satoru shot back.

"Or are you just afraid she might actually like that Choso guy?"

Suguru’s grip on the phone tightened. This guy have been stalking too.

"Focus on the plan. We’ll talk later."

"Alright, alright. Just remember, you can’t fall in love with your prey!" Satoru texted back, making Suguru fills with a mix of annoyance and an unsettling desire to prove himself.

Suguru scoffed, but a flicker of doubt crept in as he pocketed his phone. He couldn’t afford to let his feelings complicate things. Time was running out, and he needed to act before the attraction became a liability.

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Back at the apartment, you flopped onto your bed, exhaustion washing over you. The noise of the day faded as Shoko entered, a knowing smile on her face.

“You look like you need a break,” she said, plopping down next to you. “How about a facial spa? I have all the stuff right here.”

You sighed but couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “I guess I could use some pampering.”

As Shoko prepared the spa supplies, she guided you to lie back on the bed. “Just relax. This will be good for you.” She gently placed cucumber slices over your eyes, her hands deftly applying a hydrating mask to your face.

“Talk to me,” she said, settling beside you. “What’s on your mind?”

You hesitated, then recounted the strange tension between Suguru and Choso, how it made you feel uneasy yet oddly excited. Shoko listened intently, nodding as you spoke.

“Okay, but you need to show the world you’re still alive, especially after that wild night out!” she insisted, pulling out her phone. “Let’s post something on your Instagram.”

“Do we have to?” you groaned.

“Yes! I’ll help. How about this one?” She scrolled through her gallery, stopping at a candid shot of you dancing at the club, your laughter frozen in time. “This is the hottest one.”

You rolled your eyes but felt a flutter of embarrassment at the thought of sharing it. “Fine, but can we at least pick a nice song?”

Shoko grinned, quickly searching for the perfect R&B track. “How about this one?” She played a smooth, sensual melody that perfectly complemented the vibe of the photo.

With a resigned sigh, you nodded. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Shoko expertly captioned the post, adding playful emojis and tags. As she hit “share,” you felt a mix of anxiety and anticipation. Maybe it was time to embrace the fun side of life again, even if it was just for a moment.

After the post was live, Shoko’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You know what would really shake things up? An old photo from your wild days. Remember that beach trip?”

You raised an eyebrow, unsure where she was going with this. “The one where I wore that ridiculous bikini? You’re joking, right?”

“Not at all!” Shoko said, pulling out her phone again. “That picture is iconic! You looked amazing, and it’s time to remind everyone of the fun you used to have. Who knows? Maybe Suguru or Satoru will see it—or other potential guys!”

You hesitated, your cheeks heating at the thought. “I don’t know if I want them to see that side of me.”

“Oh, come on! It’s just a picture. You were living your best life! Plus, it’ll show you’re still fun, not just a workaholic,” she urged, a playful grin on her face.

“Fine, but if I regret this later…” you trailed off, knowing Shoko wouldn’t let you live it down.

“Trust me, you’ll thank me! Just send me the pic.”

Reluctantly, you scrolled through your old photos until you found it—the one where you were laughing, sand in your hair, wearing a bright bikini. It captured the essence of carefree summer days, and you felt a mix of nostalgia and embarrassment.

With a resigned sigh, you sent the photo to Shoko, who immediately started editing it with filters and playful stickers. “This is going to blow up! Just wait,” she said, her excitement infectious.

As Shoko finished editing the beach photo, an idea struck her. “Wait! What about that video from our karaoke night? You were so carefree and dancing like no one was watching!”

You groaned, the memory flooding back. “Oh no, not that one! I was completely out of it.”

“Yes! Exactly! It’s perfect!” Shoko was already scrolling through her gallery, searching for the clip. “This will show everyone just how much fun you can have, especially Suguru and Satoru.”

You bit your lip, torn between embarrassment and the thrill of reliving the moment. “But I was so embarrassing…”

“Exactly! That’s what makes it real! Besides, who wouldn’t want to see you living it up?” She found the video and played it, showing you swaying wildly, drink in hand, clearly having the time of your life.

“Ugh, fine!” you relented, laughing despite your reservations. “But you better not let anyone use this against me.”

Shoko grinned, already pulling up the editing tools. “This is going to be a hit! Just imagine the comments when they see you having a blast!”

As she hit “share,” you felt a mix of dread and exhilaration. Maybe embracing the past was just what you needed to shake things up and show people that there was more to you than just work.

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A Suprise Revelation (Chapter 8)

Suguru stepped out of the hot shower, droplets of water cascading down his sculpted chest and abs, glistening under the bathroom light. He ran a hand through his damp hair, feeling the heat of the steam surrounding him. It was a welcome escape from the chaos of his mind, but as he grabbed his phone, reality came rushing back.

Satoru’s message popped up

"Dude, you have to check this out! Your girl just posted some wild stuff on Instagram."

Curiosity piqued, Suguru swiped open the app, his heart racing with anticipation. As he scrolled through her profile, he stumbled upon the recent posts, and his breath caught in his throat.

The beach photo first—there you were, laughing under the sun, your bikini accentuating your curves. But it was the video that sent a rush of desire through him. You were dancing, carefree and sexy, clearly enjoying yourself during that karaoke night. Each sway of your hips ignited something deep within him.

Suguru’s chest tightened, a mix of shock and longing flooding his senses. He couldn’t believe this was the same girl he had been obsessing over. The fun, wild side of you was intoxicating, and he found himself captivated.

Satoru’s next text popped up, pulling him from his thoughts.

"Looks like someone’s a party girl! You sure you can handle her?"

Suguru smirked, shaking his head at his friend’s antics.

"Shut up. I’m not trying to fall for her, you know that."

Satoru replied almost instantly.

"Oh, come on! You can’t resist those moves. Just imagine what else she could do if you were alone together!"

Suguru felt a heat rise to his cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and desire. “Damn it, Satoru,” he muttered, knowing all too well the temptation your posts stirred in him.

" This isn’t helping."

But deep down, he realized he couldn’t shake the pull you had on him. The more he saw, the more he wanted to know you, to unravel the layers behind that carefree exterior.

Suguru leaned against the bathroom counter, still processing the flood of emotions from your posts. He took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. As much as he craved to act, he knew he needed to slow down the process. Rushing in would only complicate things, especially with his feelings starting to spiral out of control.

He quickly typed back to Satoru.

"Maybe I should slow down. This is getting too complicated."

Satoru’s response was instantaneous, dripping with mischief.

"Slow down? What’s wrong? Are you falling for her?"

Suguru rolled his eyes, a slight smile tugging at his lips despite the annoyance.

"Not falling for anyone. Just being smart about it."

"Smart?"

Satoru shot back, clearly enjoying the banter.

"You mean like when you stalk her Instagram? Sounds like a real strategy, my man!"

Suguru’s cheeks burned, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

"You’re ridiculous. Just drop it, okay?"

But Satoru was relentless.

"I’ll drop it when you finally admit you’re totally into her! Until then, I’ll just keep teasing you about it."

Suguru sighed, shaking his head, feeling both exasperated and entertained. Maybe it was time to embrace the challenge ahead, but at his own pace. He glanced back at your photos, the mixture of desire and uncertainty swirling within him. “Guess I’ll just have to play it cool for now,” he muttered to himself, a sly grin creeping across his face.

Suguru couldn’t shake off the playful energy Satoru was bringing into the conversation. Just as he was about to set his phone down, Satoru’s next message popped up, making him chuckle despite himself.

"So, are you going to do some naughty, naughty things while looking at her pics?"

A mix of laughter and irritation bubbles up inside Suguru. The image of you dancing provocatively lingered in his mind, and the thought sent a wave of heat rushing through him. He couldn’t deny that the idea had crossed his mind.

"Just because you’re an idiot doesn’t mean I have to be."

Suguru typed back, trying to maintain his cool demeanor.

"I’m keeping it professional."

Satoru replied instantly.

"Professional? In what world? You’re practically drooling over her pics!"

Suguru felt a smirk tug at the corners of his mouth.

"Okay, maybe I am a little interested, but that doesn’t mean I’m jumping into anything."

"Right, right," Satoru teased.

"Just don’t take too long, or she might end up with someone else."

Suguru rolled his eyes, but the playful jab only fueled his determination. He would keep his feelings in check, but there was no denying that you had captivated his thoughts.

“I’ll figure it out,” he finally replied.

With that, he put his phone down, trying to shake off the mix of emotions swirling inside him. Slowing down might be the right choice, but that didn’t mean he’d stop thinking about you—especially now that he knew just how captivating you could be.

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Next chapter

[maskyartist]

anyone else have this weird reply highlight shit n hate it? Cause I do.

[yawnderu]

>Simon has a neet weirdo as a best friend Or Simon Riley lets his best friend see his naked body for art references.

This wasn't the way Simon was expecting to spend his PTO; naked in his best friend's bed with his hand covering his soft cock, hoping not to make you uncomfortable as you took notes of his body's reactions.

“Can you like... get hard?” He was trying his best not to get hard, going as far as to think about gross things he's seen throughout the years to distract himself from the feeling of your nails raking up and down his bare stomach, defined muscles tensing and bulging beneath your palm.

“'S not how it works.” He grumbled out, tired brown eyes looking away from you. Simon isn't embarrassed— not at all, he's simply not used to someone inspecting him the way you are, curious eyes fully focused on his body, taking in every single tattoo and scar, living proof of how many times he's kicked death's ass.

“Well, just think about... I don't know, tits.” He lets out a dry chuckle at the awkwardness in your tone, trying your best to keep it professional in the name of art. He looks down at you with pure amusement the moment he sees your hand drifting up, tracing the outline of his defined, muscular pecs.

You take a second to fully admire the view in front of you, absent-mindedly starting to play with his erect nipple, not registering the way his breath hitches. Simon looks like a gladiator— lightly tanned skin making his rippling muscles stand out greatly, becoming the virtual image of ancient Greek fantasies, a plethora of scars showing how often he crosses the edge of death.

“Gettin' a bit touchy there.” His playful tone doesn't save the mild embarrassment, about to let go of his nipple before his rough, calloused hand grasps your wrist, encouraging you to keep touching him.

“'S working.” Simon's other hand moves out of the way slightly, just barely enough for you to see his hardening cock, veins starting to become more prominent along his long, meaty shaft. He doesn't protest when you move his hand out of the way, getting a perfect look at him.

“That's... oddly interesting.” The awkwardness coming from you never fails to amuse him, only making his ego inflate by the second, even when you look down at your notebook to keep taking notes of his body's reactions.

“Does it feel weird to get a boner?” He thinks about it for a few seconds before shaking his head, holding back a laugh at the blunt questions. In the name of art, she says.

“Not weird, just... I don't know, bird.” The expectant look that you give him distracts him for a second, trying to think of a better way to explain it.

“Feels good. Bit tingly most of the time, and you can feel it... y'know, grow.” Explaining what getting a boner feels like isn't the weirdest thing he's done for you, half-lidded brown eyes focused on the way you simply nod and keep taking notes, using his words as inspiration for the erotic novels he knows you write.

The room is almost quiet for a few minutes, Simon's breathing becoming harder being the only sound, feeling your soft hands caressing every single inch of his skin, feeling him up more than he can take... and ultimately edging him without even being aware, stopping to take notes every once in a while.

“I can show you how a man jacks off, too. For the sake of art, yeah?”

[usuallydyinginside]

TLDR: Francesca Bridgerton is Autistic. Fight me.

Okay so I did not go into Season 3 of Bridgerton expecting to have any feelings about Francesca Bridgerton. We have seen her only in glimpses in the show and I have not read the books, so I knew basically nothing about her before binging the first four episodes.

But guys. GUYS. I will die for this autistic queen.

Okay, so starting with first impressions. We know that on her big day, Francesca went out of her way to avoid her nosy, loud family by having a very early, quiet breakfast by herself and then calming down via playing the piano (clearly a special interest of hers).

In her first balls, we see Francesca light up any time she talks about music (clearly her current or forever special interest) but as soon as men try to take it to a flirting place she IMMEDIATELY shuts down. It's clear that even as she states very matter-of-factly that she plans to marry this season, she also is baffled and uncomfortable any time someone tries to actually, ya know, court her.

At one of her first shindigs, she got attention and then went up to her brother and (while making almost no eye contact) told him (rather than asked him) that she needed a sec.

She then sat by herself in the side of the ballroom.

Later on, she left a ball in search of quiet and solitude to fix her sensory overload, so she went outside this time. (A thing that we know from pervious seasons is a HUGE no-no, particularly unchaperoned. But she was very respectfully near the door so maybe that's fine?) The point is that she cares very much about staying respectable so she can get this marriage thing over with and get people to stop perceiving her, yet she risks some scandal by going outside just so she can be somewhere quiet alone.

Enter: this absolute (also autistic) Prince Charming.

He says hello (so she knows he's not like trying to sneak up on her in the dark like a creep) and then just stands there. 10/10, no notes, best way to flirt I have ever seen in my life.

Seriously just look at this. I'm in love. Never before has there been a greater sign of love at first sight than in this "standing politely five feet apart in total silence in the middle of a ball and enjoying each other's company."

I need to go watch these first four episodes about a hundred more times, but I THINK this might be the first sincere smile we see from Francesca??!? I at least got the impression immediately that this is the first time she's felt genuinely comfortable and happy while not entirely alone this season.

Like, these nerds did not even exchange names. They barely exchanged a word. Yet you can see them falling head over heels in love right there in that moment. I don't even LIKE love at first sight tropes and they have my whole heart. They are the only exception.

Then, of course, you have this second absolutely iconic Scene of Silence where the entire Bridgerton family stares in neurotypical confusion a these two amazing weirdos. The way these two do not know each other but they DO know each other. The way they are both so happy and so comfortable but also still playing the whole society game the way they were told they had to?? I just don't have words right now.

LOOK AT HER SMILE, GUYSSSSSSSS.

Look how happy this tiny, silent moment is making her. How she understands immediately what he's doing and is absolutely delighted to participate too even knowing her entire family is hardcore judging them from not that far away.

And then you get this smug little look from him and it's like you can see his autistic ass thinking, "Yes. I calculated correctly. This was the correct romance option. Gold star to me." (Okay, maybe that's just how my brain works but shhhhh)

Which, of course, brings us to this absolutely hilariously awkward ND attempt at flirting. We start off with some fairly normal "whoops, I'm flustered cause you make me nervous" sort of moments, but notice how little eye contact she makes. How she only looks in his eyes very briefly and it seems like she almost has to remind herself to do so when she's doing the "polite" answers (OR later when she's genuinely interested in a topic).

So as soon as Francesca is like "oh shit, I ruined it. I forgot how to neurotypical. It's over" then she loses patience with the practiced social niceties.

I spent like 30 minutes trying to find a GIF and I should already be asleep so I'm not going to go learn how to make one BUT I needed to look up exactly what happens next cause it's basically the most autistic thing I've ever seen.

WHICH IS that in response to the second awkward silence after Francesca shares all of this, John's response is, "That is helpful. If you'll excuse me."

Then dude bro just WALKS AWAY WITHOUT ANOTHER WORD.

Like it would be awkward anyway but now Francesca thinks she misread a social cue so she's feeling sad, and meanwhile this absolute king is over here on a romantic mission no one asked him to do because he is that set on showing her he's listening and cares.

The man shows up at the ball and as soon as he had a paper we were all screaming "he wrote her a song!!!"

Again, notice the eye contact (or lack thereof). I think with period dramas and women, it's easy to just go "oh she's just shy" or "she's just being demure like she's supposed to" but like NO. This girl does not want to meet anyone's eyes.

Until she does. Because in moments where she's talking about music or enjoying quiet, it's worth it to purposefully meet his eyes and see how he's feeling too. To make sure he can see she's happy.

ANYWAY, it was so much better than him writing a song for her.

SO. MUCH. BETTER.

Because he didn't just give her any ol' music. He sought out the music they'd specifically heard in the street, and he took her exact specifications on what was "wrong" with the music, and he FIXED IT. He then put the whole thing on sheet music and handed her a copy with no further explanation than this.

Our autistic lass was so excited she basically sprinted out of that ball so she could find a piano. (Which, the fact that she does this rather than try to stay and flirt/dance with the man who just gave her this incredible gift ALSO says a lot, just saying. Daphne could never.)

So our girl finds a piano and GUYS. LOOK AT HOW HAPPY SHE IS.

I'm pretty sure this woman would accept a proposal right this second. Maybe make one herself. She is so head over heels in love with this man that it's absurd. We have watched her mask in these first four episodes, but the last two where she's interacting with John are the first times she seems genuinely happy and like the real her is shining through.

Like, does she enjoy her family? Sure. But it's obvious (and she even tells us) that she finds them overwhelming and generally to be A Lot. But these scenes? This gesture?

You can just get how seen she feels. How weird and wild and amazing it is to her that this man can see who she actually is and wants to join her there instead of making her play some part of the perfect Bridgerton who likes to be the center of attention.

(And even here - the EYE CONTACT. She glances at people when she's talking to them, but the way she looks at the sheet music is so much more intense and intimate and personal than anytime she's looking at the average person in the show. She still even in places she's most comfortable, such as sitting at the piano, makes very little eye contact and only at very specific moments.)

Anyway I'm going to sleep now but I'm sure I'll add more thoughts as they come to me. Feel free to add your own case for why Francesca is autistic and/or otherwise neurodivergent. I want to hear allllllll the thoughts.

[pomefioredove]

only one bed room

summary: it's the sdc and everyone's staying over at ramshackle but, oh no! you're one room and one bed short. being the generous (or gullible) soul that you are, you agree to share characters: all sdc competitors, separate additional info: fair warning I have no replayed book 5 in a while, reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, most scenarios end in cuddles. can be interpreted as romantic or platonic (nix vil and rook's part)

Deuce Spade

"I don't mind sleeping on the floor!"

it's a big fat no from Vil. waking up sore and tired is unacceptable, and will affect his performance during practice. he will use the bed, end of story.

you offer to take the floor or one of the many stiff and uncomfortable couches in Ramshackle, but he refuses

what kind of aspiring honor student would he be if he kicked you out of your own room?

so, yes, you end up sharing the bed

he's a perfect gentleman about it

he insists on sleeping on the complete opposite end of the bed

to give you your space, of course

not because he's nervous

obviously it doesn't pan out- he's kind of a messy sleeper, and on the first night you wake up with him sprawled on top of you

you decide not to wake him up

you'd been thinking about saving for a weighted blanket, anyway

Ace Trappola

"you better not hog the blankets,"

takes it like a champ, though he might be screaming internally

he already sleeps in a dorm with three other guys- this can't be any different, right?

it totally is

sharing a bed with someone? someone he likes, who he isn't just forced to live with for convenience?

he's not sure how to tease you about this one without coming off as nervous himself

so he just shuts his trap about it (for once) and accepts his fate

in the end, it's no big deal for a player like him

he ends up hogging the blankets, though. hypocrite.

Kalim al-Asim

"YAYYY SLEEPOVER!"

he means exactly what he says

not a care in the world

all he's thinking about is how fun this is going to be! just him and his favorite Ramshackle prefect (Grim heard the news and will be staying in deuce's room to avoid any cracker mishaps)

Kalim, admittedly, is not a creature of great thought. he tends to be dictated by his feelings, and he can be a little selfish sometimes

so when Jamil pulled him aside and asked him to just buy another bed for ramshackle, he ignored him entirely

why would he do that? the situation is resolved, and everyone's happy!

well... not everyone, but Kalim's happy!

he stocks up on Vil-approved snacks, insists you two braid each other's hair and stay up late into the night talking with no one to remind you to go to sleep

(he tried to invite Jamil and got the door slammed in his face)

this arrangement lasts approximately one night

when Vil sees the dark circles under your eyes, it's over

you are confined to the couch, and Kalim is forced to sleep alone

Jamil Viper

"okay,"

really. he's totally fine with it.

besides the fact that he doesn't want to cause any more trouble, he's shared beds with his siblings before. no big deal

he just wasn't expecting to wake up with you snuggled against him

but this is fine

totally fine

he's barely conscious and it's early morning, still dark, the time he's used to getting up at

Vil has things covered, right? he can stay here for a little while longer. it would be awkward trying to get up without waking you

it feels nice having something all to himself for once

he smirks, imagining how jealous everyone else would be:

the beautiful, kind, intelligent ramshackle prefect in his arms? oh, the looks on their faces would almost make this whole thing worth it!

but in the end, he decides to say nothing

he wants to keep you all to himself, after all

for just a little while longer

Epel Felmier

"ain't no way I'm sharing!"

that's what he says in his head, anyway. but it's late and he's worn out from practice (and being shouted at) so he just sighs and accepts his fate

of course Vil would make him do it. it's probably because he's the smallest, isn't it?

you can tell he's unhappy with the arrangement (not that he's making much of a secret of it- he's grumbling under his breath all evening)

he starts coming around to the idea when he wakes up holding something warm

his heart jumpstarts and he nearly panics before remembering where he is

and then he realizes the thing he's holding is... you. somehow the two of you had ended up spooning during the night

but, more importantly... he's the big spoon!

he's almost tempted to wake you to announce that he, in all his manly glory, had naturally assumed the most masculine cuddling position!

(yes he sounds ridiculous. just let him have this one)

he lets you sleep, though. just a little more won't hurt anyone, right?

he's okay with the arrangement after that

Rook Hunt

"I will do it!"

Vil isn't even able to finish his sentence before the vice housewarden is practically jumping up and down

pretty much everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief; a volunteer! thank the sevens. otherwise, this could get awkward...

of course, he quite intentionally ends up with you in his arms

but not for any nefarious purpose, he insists!

he's a light sleeper, and can be stirred by any sudden noise or movement

you appeared to be having some kind of nightmare

it reminds him of a small animal caught in a trap, struggling for its life. he can't bear to see it- it's cruel to let a poor creature go on suffering before you can make the kill

of course, instead of killing you (thank the sevens), he decides to comfort you

he presses your head against his chest so you can hear his heartbeat, and he runs his fingers through your hair until you calm down.

then he keeps you there, just to be sure you don't have another bad dream

if you gave him permission, he would gladly be all over you in seconds. kissing up and down your shoulders, caressing every perfect inch of your body, whispering words of admiration

but he's perfectly content just cradling you for now

hopefully, you will continue to have these nightmares and give him excuses to do this again

Vil Schoenheit

"don't argue with me,"

initially, you just gave him the bed

maybe you were afraid of him; maybe you like him; maybe you just wanted to avoid a conflict altogether

either way, you spent the first night on the terribly uncomfortable floor, and trudged through Ramshackle like a zombie the next morning

Vil was feeling guilty watching you

what? he's not a monster

and he's a leader, which means he has a responsibility. and you had so graciously invited them all into your home...

fine! he'll share. he insists, even

when you try to argue, he shuts you down, repeating all that stuff about responsibility and hospitality, blah blah

and he doesn't want the team manager dead on their feet

arguing with him is pointless, so you just agree

he wakes up with you against him, sleeping peacefully

now, if it were you clinging to him- he might have had a good chuckle. can't keep your hands to yourself, prefect? I'm just that irresistible?

but the way he's holding you, the way his arms are so tightly wrapped around your waist, the way he's so clearly pressing you against him...

he hates to admit it, but you're an elegant sleeper. it's almost cute

the tension is relieved from your face, your breathing graceful and steady, and your perfect lips open just a sliver...

he is a perfect gentleman, and would never dream of doing anything without your explicit permission, but for one shameful second he thinks about how easy it would be to kiss you

... and then he quickly puts those thoughts aside and tries to get back to sleep

he doesn't want any dark circles, after all

[verstappen-cult]

PRAISE, M. VERSTAPPEN.

✶ SUMMARY. Max knows he’s good at his job, he was raised to be the best driver, the perfect son, and knows he’s talented. The bad thing is that he has to listen to people complimenting him almost everyday. He really thinks he’s good at hiding how shy and uncomfortable it makes him, and it’s just that Max can’t seem to take compliments from anyone but you.

content warnings ✶ disclaimers. fem!reader. lots of fluff. my favorite kind of max: flustered max. P in V. sub/dom dynamics. praise kink. unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it kiddos. breeding kink. redbull racing slander because we are tired of them not doing their job. english is not my first language.

GWEN RAMBLES — i started writing this after the awful events of sunday, and finished it today! this was requested a while ago and to the person who asked for it – i’m sorry it took me so long! hope y’all like it. comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Max gets uncomfortable when people compliment him. He knows he's good at what he does, knows he’s talented. And when people call him handsome? Compliment his hair? His arms? He has a hard time trying not to show how affected he actually is.

However, you know him in ways the rest of the world doesn't.

Max likes it when you compliment his cooking. It's not deserving of a five star Michelin rating, but good enough to eat and perfect the dish.

"How did you came up with this?" You ask, raising a spoonful of vegetables with a sweet and sour sauce.

Max can't keep his eyes off of you, waiting for your reaction patiently and anxiously. "I saw it in a video. But it was my idea to add the sauce to give it a little spin." He shrugs, his cheeks gaining a pretty pink color the second you make eye contact with him.

"It's delicious," You whisper, licking the rests of sauce from the spoon. Max's eyes glaze over and he forces himself to look away if he actually wants to make it through dinner. "You're such a good cook, Max. If you weren't a racing driver, I'm sure you would've had a restaurant."

Now, Max blushes furiously, the spoon falling from his fingers and on the plate. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes to mind, and you bite your lower lip to stop yourself from laughing at his flustered state.

Max likes it when you jump into his open arms after a good qualifying session or podium celebrations, all happy and giddy as he still tries to shake off the adrenaline.

"You did such a good job!" He wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground. He's still pretty much on cloud nine and with you in his arms it can't get any more perfect. "You were flying out there!"

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.” You are not looking at his precious face, but you know he’s blushing for the way his voice falters. Once he puts you down, Max hides his face away by busying himself with getting rid of his champagne-soaked race suit.

His reluctance to accept your compliment doesn’t surprise you in the slightest, he always brushes them off. You thought he didn't like it at first, it was really awkward when you started dating and he would ignore you, but as time went on you learned that he just doesn't know how to react to them. His PR training has helped him a lot for when the press and the public in general praise him for his excellent driving and fast reflexes almost every day of his life, but Max still gets flustered when you are the one complimenting him. You love to tease him about it.

Max likes it when you praise him during sex.

Especially when he surrenders himself to you.

"Look at you," You coo at him, the back of your hand caressing his cheek ever so slightly. "being so good for me." Max draws in a sharp breath, your touch burning in the most delicious way even if you're barely doing it.

You press a kiss on his naked shoulder, his smooth and warm skin shining with sweat.

“I’m always good.” He rasps, leaning his head to the side and presenting his neck to you.

You laugh softly, moving away to look into the depths of his ocean blue eyes. “Of course you are.” The smile he gives you makes your heart hammer in your ears.

Max opens his mouth to speak but falls silent as you continue to kiss along his collarbones, running your tongue and creating a path down over his chest, your soft lips making contact with his nipples.

He arches his back when you capture a nub between your teeth, hands grabbing the sheets because he knows he can’t touch you unless you allow him to. And he’s good. He wants to be good.

Max bites his bottom lip as you pinch his other nipple with your fingers. He’s having a hard time trying to stay still, his whole body shivers at your ministration.

“Always so sensitive.” You say, swiping your thumb over the pebbled flesh. Max only nods, his blushed face twisted in pleasure. “Such a good boy, uh?”

You lift your skirt up to straddle his hips, sitting just above his hard cock, still tucked away in his trousers.

“You did such a good job today.” You say, rocking your hips and planting your hands on his stomach. Max groans, shaking his head. “What was that?”

“It was,” He sighs, closing his eyes to try and regain some control over his body, but he’s sensitive and can feel your slick dripping over his clothed cock. “It was awful today.”

You tsk, nodding your approval. “It was.” His face falls for a moment, expression somber. “They don’t deserve you, not at all.” His eyes shine again, just like that. “You’re practically doing everything by yourself, isn’t that right?”

“Y-yes.” His knuckles are white from gripping the sheets trying to follow your earlier instructions, so you take pity on him. Your touch is soft as you take his hands and place them on your waist, and Max doesn’t waste a second on gripping you so hard you know you’ll have bruises the size of his hands tomorrow. The mere thought of walking around with his bruises makes you clench around nothing.

“No one is doing it like you, Max.” You purr his name, and his eyes roll to the back of his head.

Max lets out a low groan, hips thrusting up with force. He needs release. He needs you.

“Please.” He whispers, and you lower yourself to be at the same level, lips grazing his.

“What do you need?”

“Please,” He says again, almost whining. “Please.”

“You need to use your words. I don’t know what your please means, Max.” You pinch his nipple and he gasps, tilting his head.

His pupils are blown wide when he opens his eyes to look directly into yours. “I want – please I want you to ride me.” His voice breaks in a moan.

“See?” You cup his jaw, thumb caressing his bottom lip. “That wasn’t so hard.”

Max’s mind is blank except for thoughts of you. You on top of him. You taking care of him. You fucking him. You, you, you.

You use his chest for support as you help him get rid of his trousers and your skirt. Now, both of you are completely naked and Max can’t fight the moan that slips from his lips when he feels the heat of your cunt against his hard and leaking cock. It’s painful.

Max gazes down and his mouth waters. The thought of laying you down and claiming his favorite spot between your legs to taste you is almost enough to send him over the edge.

You trail your hand down his chest, not breaking eye contact, not wanting to miss any of his reactions. Like the way his entire face twist in pleasure, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth hanging open, when you wrap your hand around his cock.

Max still has a little of self control but it’s exhausting, he doesn’t know how much he can actually take before reaching his limit and spilling his seed. And he doesn’t want to waste it. He wants to come inside of you, wants to fill you up and stay there. So he says it.

And you shudder in response. You’re soaking wet, so it’s enough to not need prep, even though Max is big and he loves to prep you for it; you want it to hurt today, you want to be sore and feel him all day.

You guide his cock with trembling hands, feeling the tip fighting its way into your cunt.

You place both hands on his chest as he grips your hips as his life depends on it. You sink down on him, adjusting and pressing down slowly. It is torture for Max, you see it in the way his jaw tenses and sweat coats in his forehead. But he doesn’t protest, he takes everything you give him in silence.

“You feel,” You gasp at the sensation of finally having him deep inside of you. Max tosses his head back when he feels you clench around him. “so,” He moans louder, bucking his hips into you as you start riding him, fingernails scrapping his skin. “good.”

You take him deeper every time you raise your hips, letting yourself fall down hard, your clit grinding against his skin and making you moan loudly.

Max is mesmerized by the view.

And Max really doesn’t know where to look. If your contorted face and mouth open, moans and praises falling from your lips mixing with the squelching sounds of your cunt. Or your breast bouncing with every move. Or the connection between your bodies, how his cock disappears inside of you over and over again, driving him closer to the edge.

“Fucking me so good,” You start babbling, and Max knows you’re close to your orgasm.

He pulls you down against him and starts thrusting into you with urgency. You tuck your head against his neck and sink your teeth into his skin, marking him. Claiming him.

His cock digs deep inside, the tip rubbing against that sensitive spot that makes you tremble and see stars behind your eyelids.

Max reaches his climax with loud moans and calls of your name. He fills you up and continues to fuck his seed into you until your whole body goes still and the whole world cease to exist except for you and him.

Max doesn’t pull out until he’s certain you’ve taken every last drop. It is only when it gets cold and you want to cuddle under the blankets that you move off him, his pout at not having your weight on top of him making you giggle.

“Did so good.” You whisper, not recognising your own broken voice. “My sweet boy.”

do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. | © verstappen-cult, 2024.

[yanderenightmare]

Deku - Midoriya Izuku

TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere

gn reader

Thinking about being childhood friends with Izuku, who’s always had a bit of a crush on you. 

You’ve always known, but you’ve never humored it. He’s your friend – anything else would just be awkward. If you had to put it in any other term, you’d say he felt more like a little brother.

You wish he’d allowed the two of you to grow apart – as normal people do.

There wasn’t really any reason for the two of you to stay friends after middle school. His quirk suddenly manifested, and he got into UA – became a pro-hero – and then the symbol of peace. And you were still… kind of just doing your thing – studying, working, struggling to pay rent – struggling to keep a date…

The two of you never had much in common anyway, and you never really knew what to talk about with him anymore – only knowing to ask him how his mother was. After all, you grew out of your otaku phase a long while ago – and otherwise, you felt out-educated in any and every conversation the two of you had with each other. You swear talking to him makes you feel like a toddler learning your first words – it’s humiliating, and you don’t understand how any of it’s remotely stimulating for him, either.

Still, he’ll text you when he has the time, asking if you’d like to meet up at a café – talk, catch up – and you, not wanting to be rude, always accept.

You’d gone wide-eyed the first time you’d met him after middle school. Jeez Louise – he’d had to have grown twice his size – jacked and scarred to no end. It only got worse over the years. Now, adults – he must be twice your size. Bigger even.

You blush now when he flirts with you. But not so much for the reasons he wants.

Honestly, it’s more uncomfortable than it’s flattering. It was Izuku, after all – Deku – no matter how little he resembled the crybaby from your childhood – he’d always be that same nerdy loser friend who’d chased after you ever since you first met.

He might have grown up, but his crush on you hadn’t.

His doe-eyed look of longing and adoration had always made you feel a little awkward – a little sorry for him. And now that he’s become a man, it’s only become even more… desperate… a little pathetic, actually…

Bedroom eyes that make you laugh nervously, pretending to brush it off as a joke but really wishing he’d just give it a rest already. Surely, as a pro-hero and public figure, he could get a date? One of the many screaming fans that pine for him everywhere he drags that awful golden cape he has on his shoulders. And if not any of them, then maybe a model. A movie star even.

Why is he so hung up on you?

The funny thing is, you’d tried vying him of his crush by telling him about hook-up after hook-up, boyfriend after boyfriend – treating him like a girlfriend you could gossip with.

But it’s almost like he takes it as a challenge – talking and helping you through your relationships, giving his input and advice – just like a real friend would… only… always implementing something… something condescending, something suggestive, something saying you ought to be with him instead – he’d never treat you like that, he’d never do you wrong, you’d be taking good care of with him.

You’d made the mistake of saying you were struggling with a class at university – just to make conversation – just to talk about something trivial. But of course, he’d seen it as an opportunity – quick to offer his help, saying he’d taken that class as an extracurricular – just for a bit of fun, he’d said, light reading material he’d done on the side of his internship.

You don’t know why it’s so hard to tell him no.

Suppose it’s the possibility of being wrong – the guilt of thinking he has impure intentions when he’s supposedly the purest person in the world.

But you should have trusted your instincts.

“Please, Izuku-” You’d immediately restored to begging. Who wouldn’t? He’s a two-meter-tall monster of a man – jacked with muscles fatter than a bear.

Your phone’s been missing since you came back from the bathroom – your lips wet with his unwanted kisses – your neck sore from having his fist wrapped around it when you tried stopping him.

You’d only managed to break free after biting – blood salty in your mouth. You nearly vomited, choking on a mix of bile and fear.

Fuck – your legs are so weak, you might just buckle from the dread alone – feeling like a bunny snagged on fox teeth.

“You used to take me when we’d play wrestle... you remember?”

The comment is pulled out of nowhere.

He stalks you, a fond look on his face as though the two of you were reminiscing good old times. As though his eyes weren’t a nocturnal green like foxfire on the fen. As though he wasn’t radiating black whip – ready to snare you.

“Think you can take me now?”

You had your hands raised apprehensively – but the hopelessness took its toll and made your entire body shake on the spot.

Your only hope was to talk him out of it. If only you could think past the fear and string a sentence together that wasn’t along the lines of “Please-”

But something about that look on his face told you he wouldn’t listen to reason anymore. Not manic, not like a person who’d finally snapped – but controlled – resolute – and playful even. Nothing like you’d ever seen. Nothing you could understand.

“What’s wrong, hm?” He smiles, head tipped in that charming way that used to make you want to pinch his cheek. Now it just makes you sick to look at – swallowing thickly as you tack another step back away from it. “I’ll go easy – so don’t worry… I know it's not exactly a fair fight anymore…”

Your better judgment failed you – fight-or-flight kicked in, and you made a break for it. 

Budging into the couch on your way, it’s a messy scramble for the door – but you manage. Feeling feverish with dread and pumped full of adrenaline, you brush the cold handle with just your fingertips before something wraps around your midriff in a snug grip – pulling you back into the living room.

You’re lifted from the ground, kicking – now screaming – flailing in the air before you’re flipped on your back against the couch.

“Don’t be like that~” He murmurs. “Always so wishy-washy~” Voice in a low purr that makes you feel like coughing up your heart – squirming beneath him and his heavy hands as they paw your thighs – manhandling you like nothing you’d ever imagine him to do.

Raking his fingers through the dough before squeezing your ass greedily – kneading his fat crotch against the thin fabric protecting your sex. 

“Complaining about all your weak-dicked boyfriends as if begging me to come fuck you myself – yet such a flighty little slut when it comes down to it.” He sneers, and blackwhip tightens some around your limbs. “Let me help you out.”

One hand tugs your underwear until it rips, whilst the other hand pulls up to grab your face – squeezing your cheeks to keep you still when forcing his kisses on you.

“After all… what are friends for?”

♡ DEKU - MIDORIYA IZUKU masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[msgexymunson]

Benefits

Description: Your best friend Eddie starts to look very appealing to you, but if you suggest a dynamic change, will he go for it?

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, AFAB reader, weed smoking, virgin Eddie x virgin reader, grinding, fingering, fem oral receiving.

A/N: I just wanted to write a little goofy, not so confident Eddie and this poured out of my brain hole. Enjoy! Reblogs and comments keep me alive so please for the love of all that is smutty reblog if you enjoy it! 

5k words

Masterlist

“All I'm saying is…” you take a big pull of the joint Eddie wiggles at you, his rough fingers brushing your lips. Your voice comes out croaky as hell when you speak, holding the smoke in, “...you can't do the voice.” 

The film plays quietly in the background as you both hang out on his couch, paying little attention to it. 

Eddie scoffs at you, taking the smoke back, and takes a big lug of it himself, hand coming to rest on your bare ankle that was thrown casually over his lap. 

“What you trying to say? You know I can do voices. I could totally do Vader.” 

Giggling, you wiggle your feet as he lightly drags his fingers over them. 

“Don't do that, you know it tickles!” 

Holding his hands up and away from you, you almost miss the contact. Which was insane. This is Eddie, for fucks sake. Your best friend. The asshole who made you nearly piss your pants in seventh grade from tickling too hard, who does stupid shit to get you to smile when you're sad. 

Recently though, the little lingering touches he gives you make your toes curl. Those glances that last a little too long for best friends, the drag of his hand on your back when you move through a crowd. It was crazy, but a part of you couldn't help but think he was feeling the same way. It wasn't like you were in love with the guy, at least not like that. He was almost family. Which made the feelings that you were having sinful in a way that made your thighs clench. 

The flirting didn't help. Eddie flirted as naturally as breathing. He was just so goddamn charming; he had chemistry with everyone. Which made it even more awkward. What if your salacious thoughts weren't reciprocated? Maybe it was just your raging hormones and you needed to keep them in check before you lose your best friend. 

“You're wrong you know.” 

Eddie's words bring you out of the daze you've been falling into; you blink at him, confused. 

“Huh?” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, and flashes you a smirk that does nothing to quench the fire inside, right when his large hands move to your waist and tickle you relentlessly. You're gasping giggles as he pins your hands over your head, full weight pressing into you. Somehow, he's got his narrow hips in between your thighs, which is definitely not helping the situation. 

“I can totally do the voice, see?” He drops it two octaves, letting a deep bass voice flow out of him, “Luke, I am your father.” 

Fuck, that shouldn't turn you on, but it did. That, and his forced proximity has you feeling uncomfortably wet. It's embarrassingly seeping into your panties; so much so that you cringe at your body's betrayal. 

He's just so damn close. So close, that you see something fluttering behind those brandy wine eyes of his. Or, was it merely your imagination?

Only one way to find out. 

Biting your lip, you flutter your eyelashes softly and speak in the sexiest voice you can.

“Does that mean I should call you Daddy?” 

Eddie's mouth drops open in a perfect O, eyebrows knitted. 

“You can't- you just- fuck!” 

He clambers off of you in an attempt to put some space between you, crossing his legs on the couch. Eddie looks flustered, cheeks burning red as he looks at you like you just grew an extra head. 

“I can't what, Eddie? Can't tease you like you tease me?” 

“Huh? I don't tease you! When did I-” 

“Oh, pinning me down don't count, huh?” 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you watch as he blows air out, grabbing a cushion and ramming it in his lap. 

“I didn't mean it like that, it's just, I dunno.” 

Looking down at his hands, he fiddles with his rings. The sheepishness he's showing is adorable, and so unlike him that it stops you in your tracks. Maybe you should just go easy on him, just a little. 

“Don't worry about it Eds, I'm just fucking around.” 

There's a bit of tension released from his shoulders, but he's still not looking at you. 

Fuck, you need another smoke. 

“You want me to roll?” 

“Hell no, I've seen you roll.” 

Scrunching your nose in fake anger, he laughs at you. 

“Look like a little chipmunk when you do that.” 

“All I hear is that you think I'm adorable.” You giggle as he mockingly rolls his eyes. 

“OK, you roll, I'll grab some sodas.” 

Getting up, you smooth your skirt down and walk over to the fridge. The cans are on the lower shelf, so you bend to grab two, making a mental note to tell Eddie to buy some more. 

When you look back, Eddie's slid to the floor, rolling paraphernalia spread out in front of him. It would be a normal scene, if he didn't still have the cushion wedged in his lap and his face wasn't glowing redder than your underwear. 

Underwear… underwear that he might have seen, since you just bent over. And the only reason why he'd keep that cushion in his lap is if he… 

Oh. 

Wordlessly, you put the soda next to his elbow and scoot up on the couch, entirely unsure about what you're supposed to do in a situation like this. The furthest you've ever gone is some over the clothes stuff. 

Plus, this is Eddie. Your stupid, asshole, mean, tormenting, breathtakingly gorgeous best friend. You curse, wriggling a little in your seat. Your panties are so damp they're practically glued to your privates, a heat emanating from you that's making your insides burn. 

“Milady.” 

Eddie holds the joint to you, perfectly rolled and more surprisingly, unlit.

“Eddie, you always take the first toke. Rollers rights, remember?” 

He shrugs and passes it anyway, giving you the lighter too, as he lifts himself onto the couch with both hands, letting his cushion shield drop briefly. Long enough to see the tightness in the crotch of his pants. 

Now the feel of your slick is dampening your thighs. Pushing them together as tight as you can, willing the feeling to dissipate, you light it with trembling hands. One puff, two puffs, pass. As his fingers graze yours, he looks at you appraisingly.

“You alright there sweetheart? Not comfy?” 

Nothings gonna happen if you just sit here and whine like a bitch in your head. Take the leap. 

“It's a little, er, embarrassing.” 

Knees squeezing together so hard it's bordering on painful, you look up at him through your lashes. Eddie's eyes are wide and warm, a light smile wrinkling them at the corners softly. 

“It's only me, come on. You can tell me anything.”

Huffing and wriggling some more, you watch him inhale smoke, and blow it out, a slight pout to his mouth that makes you want to pepper it with soft kisses. Then hard kisses. Then, other stuff. Fuck. 

“It's not- we don't, talk about this kinda stuff. I don't wanna… cross a line, you know?”

“Hey, it's alright.” His thick fingers shakily touch your knee, thumb rubbing back and forth. You're not sure if it calms you or makes you worse. It could be both. 

“Fine. Just, don't look at me when I tell you this, ‘kay?” 

There's a little laugh from him, then he rests his head on the back of the couch, eyes staring resolutely to the ceiling. 

“Alright weirdo I'm not looking. Shoot.” 

Tightening your knuckles, your face creases with the effort as you let fly the words that may well end your friendship. 

“I'm uncomfortable, I'm just- fuck, I'm really wet, OK?”

Of all the things you could say, you know Eddie was not expecting you to say that. Especially when he blushes profusely and his grip tightens hard on the cushion in his lap. True to his word, his gaze is directed firmly on the ceiling. 

“That's really-” His voice is broken; squeaky and boyish. He coughs and it comes out much lower, almost comically so. “That's, er, interesting.” 

You can't help it. A crazy laugh shoots out of your throat. An insane laugh. A mental institution laugh. It seems fitting for the situation. Here you are, on Eddie fucking Munson’s couch, telling him how wet you are? You've finally lost it. 

He laughs with you, helping to diffuse some of the awkward energy filling the room.

“Sorry Eddie. It just feels a bit, surreal, you know?” 

Eddie risks a look at you when he hands the joint back. You both stare at each other, each wishing to read the other's mind. 

Remember who you're talking to. This is Eddie. You can talk to him about anything. 

“Listen, Eddie, this is way out of fucking left field but I'm gonna say it. Have you like, done stuff, before?” 

Taking the biggest inhale you can risk without swallowing the roach, you pass the smoke back. There's a very slight shake to Eddie's hand. For some reason it gives you a bit more confidence. His voice wobbles more dramatically than you've ever heard.

“You mean like, sexual, stuff?” 

He finishes the smoke and stubs it out, glancing at you. There's a heat in his eyes that you're not used to seeing. 

“Y-yeah, I mean, honest truth? I've only done over the clothes stuff. Nothing more than that. And you?” 

Eddie coughs, puffing his chest out a little in full man-mode.

“I mean, yeah sure, a bit more than that, you know.” 

You do know. You know by the way he worded that, he's at least not gotten past third base. 

“You're a virgin too then.” 

“Hey!” He huffs, turning to you, “I'm like, way less of a virgin than you are!” 

You laugh loudly, knocking his arm with your fist. 

“Doesn't make you less of a virgin, you idiot.” 

He laughs, shaking his head. 

“Suppose you're right. Some hook-ups ‘round the back of The Hideout don't count for much.”

Reaching for his hand, you brush his knuckles with tentative fingers. 

“Eddie, what I'm trying to say is, well maybe- we could help each other out? I'm a bit… frustrated, and so are you. You know?” 

He squirms a little, recoiling from your touch. 

“What makes you think I'm frustrated?” 

“Eddie, I'm not a fucking idiot. I know why you're grabbing that cushion.” 

He laughs, his special fake laugh he reserves for awkward occasions. That is, until you grab the cushion from his lap and throw it across the room.

He's hard, almost painfully so. It's pressing against his zipper in such a way that you know it must be uncomfortable. You take in a harsh breath as you look at his face. So many emotions seem to be fighting for dominance. Clear arousal, some confusion, a little bit of pity, maybe? Which is the last thing you want to see.

Maybe you were wrong.

“I'm saying that we can help each other. I'm attracted to you. I'm not declaring my love for you or anything. It's not like, some crazy confession. I'm just saying we could… relieve each other.”

“Oh.” His whole demeanour has shifted at your words, “so you don't like, love me, or anything?” 

“Eddie, you are so fucking stupid. Of course I love you, you're my best friend. Just not like that. I mean, I kinda want you to… touch me places, don't mean I want your hand in marriage!” 

His chuckle rings against the tinny walls of the trailer. Then, he looks at you, really looks at you. Biting his lip, he walks his hands toward you, stopping just shy of your constricted knees. 

“Glad you said that. I didn't know how to say that I kinda… well, that I like you, that way, but not like… man, you said it better.” 

And just like that, your Eddie was back. It wasn't weird, far from it. After the way you'd been acting around each other for years, it just made sense. 

You both smile at each other. A genuine, familiar smile. One that hurts your cheeks, that makes your chest fill with warmth. 

“I know this is like, super weird, but it might help, you know?” 

Eddie crawls further towards you, palms splayed on your knees. The simple touch has you quivering. 

“What if it's too weird? I don't want this to ruin our friendship.” 

You smile softly, and unclench your thighs slightly, knees spreading. Enough to make his eyes dart down to your core and back up, laced with want. 

“Tell you what Eds. Kiss me.” 

“And how is that gonna help?”

You laugh, beckoning him forwards. As if on a string, he leans toward you, his rough hands grazing the tops of your thighs. You try to disguise the gasp it elicits from you, but it doesn't seem necessary. Eddie's breathing hard, hard enough to hide any impromptu noises from you. 

“Just kiss me Eddie. If it's weird and gross, we'll laugh about it. If it's, erm, better than that… well, then we can maybe take it a little further.”

Eddie leans in more, hovering over you as your head rests naturally into the armrest. But he stops, inches from your face, hesitating. 

“I don't- shit, I don't know what to do!” 

Laughing loud, you reach out and twirl a section of his hair in your soft hands, adding definition to a curl. 

“Just, use a move on me. You know? Like I'm one of those girls at The Hideout. Come on.” 

He laughs, knuckles dragging over your cheek. 

“That's… this isn't the same. You're not like that ” 

“Fine, just- come on to me. Hit me with your best shot. Just, I dunno, just-”

The rest of your sentence dies on your tongue as he cradles your jaw and presses his full lips softly to yours. You don't know what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. He holds your face almost delicately, tongue lapping gently at your lip until you allow him to slip it inside. 

It's a slow, deliberate thing, as if he's mapping out your mouth in case you never agree to do this again. Not that that's a danger to you. His tongue is burning hot; a slippery warm need, igniting the fire that was already smouldering within you. 

His form relaxes slightly, allowing his weight to drop. His chest falls onto yours, no doubt telling him of the heaving gasps you're taking. You couldn't find it in you to mind, not whilst he's prising your legs open with one knee, his thigh pressing against just where you need it most. 

A moan races out of your mouth and into his, muffled into his chasing tongue. The warmth between your legs is just getting worse, stoked by the pressure of his searching knee. Suddenly there's tension exactly where you need it, the coarse denim of his thigh rubbing hard against your throbbing nub. 

“Eddie, fuck!”

He smiles into your mouth as he pushes his leg harder, groans overtaking his mouth as you use it to chase your pleasure. 

His perfect mouth traces down your jaw, nipping and sucking at your flesh. His thick tongue lathing over your taut muscles, your tiny fingers grasping onto his arms almost pathetically. 

When he breaks away to look at you, eyes searching for doubts, you can't help but think how beautiful he looks. His hair's a little messier than usual, cheeks flushed pink, and those full lips look even plumper than before. 

“Sorry, should have checked in. Was that, alright? Not too weird?” 

You try to slow your breathing, but it's no use. It usually takes you a while to get there on your own, but you were so close to coming on Eddie's leg after a couple of minutes of making out it was almost shameful. 

“I'll say, jeez. I nearly- er, got carried away.” 

“Really?” Eddie's eyes seem to brighten as the corners of his mouth twitch up into a cheeky grin. 

“Don't let that get to your head! I'm just really… needy right now.” 

“Fuck,” he replies, adjusting his bulge, “right, carried away, you say?”

Before you can process what he's said he leaps up, grabs you by the waist and throws you over his shoulder. Your giggling squeals echo through the trailer, ringing out like the peals of a bell as he barges into his room and throws you on the bed. Laughing and red faced, with your skirt rucked up around your hips and your arms flung above your head, you notice Eddie's gaze shamelessly skimming to your panties. 

Shaking out of his bare faced revelry he jumps onto the bed next to you, eager as a kid at Christmas. He's on his side, a large hand roaming over your stomach, across your waist, down to your hips and skimming just under your thin sweater. 

“You want me to take this off?” You ask, tugging at the hem. 

“Oh, er- yeah, I-I mean if you- do you want to take it off?” 

Eddie bumbles through his words as you giggle at him, his usual confident demeanour evaporated at the thought of your body. 

“Eddie you dingus, you've literally seen me in my underwear before!” 

“Well, yeah… but that was before you, er, filled out.” 

It was a long time ago. A hot Summer spent running around the trailer park hitting each other with water balloons. You'd almost forgotten how far back it was.

“You don't have to be scared of my boobs ya know.” 

Eddie scoffs, hitting you playfully with a flick of his finger on the tip of your nose. You grab it, trying to bite it but he's pulling it away and you follow. It turns into yet another wrestling match as laughter rings from the pair of you. He tries to hold his hand up high but then you straddle him. 

Suddenly, his arm goes limp and you pull the offending digit into your mouth triumphantly, nibbling softly. It's then you realise you're straddling his stomach and he's completely lost, staring at the way your skirt is wrinkled. 

Play fight discarded, you shimmy down his body and revel in the little shaking breath Eddie makes as you sit gently on his crotch, the hardened bulge pressing into your clothed heat. 

“Fuck, you're so warm.” 

You blush as his fingers dig into your hips as if afraid you'll disappear. 

“You can feel that, through your jeans?” 

He chuckles low in his throat and the sound travels straight to your tummy, letting loose a cascade of butterflies. 

“Feel it? It's like a freaking furnace. Bet it'll feel amazing inside you.” 

It's just Eddie, running his mouth; in fact it seems he didn't mean to say that out loud judging by the look on his face. He always has an issue separating outside thoughts and inside thoughts. It was so casually spoken though, you don't think he realised just how dirty it sounded. 

Your fingers smooth up his stomach, feeling the muscles tense under the contact, pulling his shirt up with them. 

“Really hot when you say stuff like that.” 

You're embarrassed admitting it, but you're so turned on that he needs to know how much his words affect you. Mostly so he'll keep using them.

“Yeah?” 

“Hmm.” 

You're dragging nails over his abdomen, tugging his t-shirt higher and higher. He doesn't seem to mind, firm hands pulling your hips slowly back and forth. So you take a shot, and yank it up high. He gets the message, lifting his arms over his head so you can fling it off and away. 

There's no subtlety to the way he pulls at your top, sitting up to wrench it off you. He's panting, eyes raking over your red cotton bra as if you were in the finest lingerie. Then your lips crash together, desperately exploring each other's mouths, teeth clashing in urgency. You collapse on top of him as he holds your hip with one hand, guiding you over his hardness as the other palms your breast over your bra. 

That feeling is back, the burning tingling mass of arousal clutching your insides, growing and growing quicker than ever. You rut against him, each pass sending a zip of sensation all the way from your clit to the tips of your toes. 

Moaning in his mouth, you break away and he nips at your neck, rough fingers snaking into your bra to clumsily rub your nipple. You cling to his waist tightly as the feeling mounts, and mounts, and finally- 

“Eddie! Oh- oh fuckin’ hell!” 

It happens. The thing that had never happened to you outside of your own late night desperate fumblings. It flows like liquid fire through your veins, buzzing across your skin in a wild burning sensation that takes you utterly by surprise. Your sounds are feral; incoherent and needy, as your thighs grasp him firmly as if in fear of him moving away. 

After a loaded silence, whilst you both breathe, and breathe, you finally unclasp your legs around him, falling to the side in an ungainly heap of arms and legs.  

“Well. Holy fucking shit.” you laugh nervously, legs shaking with the after effects.

“So, not too weird?” He smiles, taking the opportunity to get on top of you, arms either side of your head. 

“It's a little weird. Only ever, you know, came, on my own, so yeah.” 

“Yeah?” The cocky look is back, a hand trailing down your shoulder to rest on your breast. 

“Can I take this off, please?” 

You smile and lift your back up so he can slide his hand behind you, fumbling around to try and get the clasp, swearing under his breath. 

“I don't know, can you?” You question, stifling giggles. 

“You could just help me, you know, you-you devil woman- Oh wait I did it!” 

The clasp springs free and Eddie's proud smile nearly splits his face apart as he eagerly pulls down the straps. 

“You're such a goofball.”

“You've got amazing tits, Jesus Christ.” 

Heat flushes your chest and before you can retort he's kneeling between your legs, hot mouth sucking roughly on a nipple. Words fail you, your body the only thing talking as you arch your back and push toward his greedy lips. Letting go with a loud pop, he sucks a hickey right in the middle of your sternum, running his thumb over the wet mark after. 

“I wanna go down on you.” He blurts it out, spill words tugging out of his lips before he can stop them. 

“You wanna what?” You respond, dazed as he looks up at you, eyes full of fire. 

“I wanna use my mouth on you. Down here.” 

He drags his fingers low, pressing one just to the top of your mound. 

“You really want to?” As far as you're aware, that's not a thing guys tend to want to do. At least that's what you've heard. Eddie seems to be an exception. 

“More than anything.” He's brutally honest, eyes wide and begging. 

“I mean, if you want to, sure.” 

“OK, shit, just wait a sec.” 

Getting up so fast it must make his head spin, he unbuttons his jeans and wrestles them down his legs, tossing them away. The tent in his boxers makes your eyes widen.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he climbs back on the bed. 

“Sorry, just so fuckin’ hard it hurts.” 

Nothing can stop the whimper that shoots out of your mouth at his words. Again, he's just being honest, but he doesn't seem to understand how sexy it is. 

Moving to unzip your skirt, he bats your hand away to do it himself. Before he pulls it off, he looks at you nervously. 

“Just, let me know if you don't like something. Or if you do. I've er, I've not done this before so lower your expectations.” He laughs it out, embarrassment coating each word. 

“I thought you had a bunch of hook ups at The Hideout?” You tease, smirking at him. 

“Right, full disclosure, I've erm, used my fingers before, a few times. And once- once some girl tried to give me head and I busted in like three seconds, OK?” 

He grabs a bunch of his hair and hides behind it while you chuckle. 

“Eddie, it's fine, I'm glad you told me. It's just me. I'm not gonna judge you, you know that.” 

“Yeah, of course.” The breath he lets out is loud, tension melting from his body, and he bends to pull your skirt down and off. Your panties are next; they cling to your core so much it makes you cringe, but he doesn't seem to mind. 

“Can you, spread your legs a little sweetheart?” His voice is husky, eyes staring straight at your pussy. Feeling exposed, you do as he asks, fighting the urge to pull away from his gaze. 

“Look at you. Beautiful.” 

Smiling at his words, it turns into an open mouthed gasp as he strokes his fingers softly through your folds. 

“Fuck me, you're soaked.” 

Then his tongue is slipping across you, feeling tentatively as he keeps your legs wide with his rough palms. It's different; wet and messy, but it's incredible. The pleasure increases tenfold as his wandering mouth finds your clit. 

“Eddie, right there, right there!” 

He groans, pushing his face into you so hard you can feel the vibrations from the noise. He's moving his tongue up and around it, making an absolute mess of spit and slick over you. Suddenly he tries sucking and your back leaves the bed, hands coming to clutch at his hair. 

“Oh my God, do that again, please please, oh fuck!” 

He does it again, and again, smoothing each suckle with a flat lick from his tongue. Fingers graze your hole suddenly, making you jump. As you look down you see Eddie's entirely consumed by what he's doing, rutting himself into the mattress like an animal. One finger breaches you, feeling around, pumping slowly in and out. It's good, but it's not great. 

You feel ashamed even trying to guide him but you attempt to shake it off. 

“Eddie?” 

“Hmm?” He looks up, an almost dazed expression in his eyes. 

“Can you- can you curl your finger upward?” 

“Like this?” 

Your reaction is instantaneous, hips rucking up to his touch. 

“Fuuuck.” 

“Yeah? That good, sweetheart?” 

That smugness is back but it isn't in you to care. There's no words, just little whimpers and moans as you grab him by the hair and push his mouth back where you need it. 

When he adds another finger, you're gone. Your walls are clenching around him, sucking him in as the feeling of his thick digits stretching you fills your entire being. Dots dance in your vision as your whole body feels fuzzy, tingles whispering over your skin. You cry out as the feeling escalates, bubbling through you until you can't see, can't think, clawing at Eddie's head until you reach an impossible precipice. Then, it explodes, showering you in waves, over and over. 

“Oh my God that was amazing, fuck Eddie, you're incredible, I never came that hard in all my life, Jesus Christ!” 

You're babbling, you know, bubbles of platitudes popping out of your mouth in almost nonsensical sounds as your legs twitch like crazy. 

Eddie scoots up a little, face pressed into the plush of your stomach. He mumbles something incomprehensible. Leaning up on your elbows, you pull his hair a little making him look at you. 

“You alright there? What'd you say?” 

Eddie laughs, kissing your tummy, face flushed pink. 

“I said I fuckin’ came in my pants.” 

Then he hides again, as if your skin can cover his embarrassment. 

“Eddie, come here you dope.” 

He climbs up you, leaning on quivering arms. The front of his boxers pushes on your sticky core. 

“Don't worry about it, that's kinda hot.” 

“Yeah? You're hot. That was, wow. I think I found my favourite place.” 

You giggle, pressing kisses to his lips. There's still traces of you on him but you don't care. 

“Can you tell me what you said again?” He asks, grin fighting to envelop his whole face. 

“Huh?” 

“You know, how I'm the most incredible lover in existence.” Waggling his eyebrows at you, he strokes a wayward hair off of your sweaty forehead. 

“I did not say that!” 

“I'm paraphrasing, it was pretty close.” 

You hit him on the chest playfully and he falls to the side in a terrible act of mock pain. Crawling on top of him, you continue to smack him, fake punches thrown at his ribs. 

“OK, you win, I cannot best you!” 

Grabbing your hand, he kisses your knuckles and you melt against him, pressing soft kisses to his mouth. They turn harder, tongues massaging each other as he runs his hands down your back. 

You break away to plant a single kiss to the tip of his nose. 

“Maybe in a bit, you know, when you've… recovered…” 

Dragging your nails down his lean chest you look up at him, biting your lip. 

“We can… go all the way?” 

Eddie's face lights up. He grabs you and flings you down so he's on top, kissing your neck and jaw sloppily as you squeal at the sudden onslaught. 

“Yes, fuck yes, gimme like two minutes, five tops.” 

Taglist (if you want to be added please send me a PM so I don't lose the request, thank you)

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n

[obeymematches]

🫧🚿taking a shower together🫧🚿

nobody asked for this but let's go!!

Lucifer:

At first it was...awkward. This is a very intimate moment and frankly, he is not used to this. You already washed yourself almost entirely when he offers to wash your back. Also, he prefers very cold showers; he is used to not having warm water, living with Asmo and Levi. If you don't mind the cold water he'll suggest a thing or two... ;)

"Of course you may join me, my dove, need a hand getting in?"

Mammon:

He behaves as if he has done this before?? Very playful the entire time, teasing you with the showerhead. Gets the showergel and as a routine he washes your body. Isn't shy at all. Prefers very hot showers though so get ready for that. Will suggest sexy time at first.

"It's me MC, lemme join ya pleeeaseee!"

Leviathan:

Boy just wants it to be over at first, despite taking 40 min showers when he is alone. Very uncomfortable in this situation, just washes himself and gets out earlier than you. Not sure if this becomes a habit, but if you can get him to do it again he will like it more!

"Okay MC, I.. I think I'm ready!"

Satan:

Loves loves loves the idea and the moment!! Makes sure the water is perfect for you!!! "That's alright" won't do! Asks for permission to wash your body, hair, everywhere basically and his knees become weak when you offer to wash him. Now you must do this everyday, he has a new favourite part of the day!

"How did I not think of this before? Come on in!"

Asmo:

Well he is not a shower kind of guy but who is he to refuse this opportunity!! Poor bby doesn't even know how to switch from the tap to the showerhead. Very gentle when he offers to wash you! Compliments each part of your body! Feels like a therapy tbh. Likes his water warm but not too hot. Probably gets suggestive somewhere down the road.

"Ahhh MC I must join you! I really hope you don't mind!"

Beel:

Honestly he usually takes quick showers so this entire session lasts 10 minutes max, including drying. Offers to wash you but he uses the 2in1 very masculine gel so if you wanna smell more feminine you must stop him. Likes to hug you to make it even more intimate! Likes his water a bit cold but not too cold!

"Ohh, come on in quick! Of course I don't mind, are you kidding?"

Belphie:

Doesn't show it but he likes this moment so much! At least he has a reason to shower right? Very casual the entire time, doesn't ask but motions that he has the intetion to wash you. Looks very hot with wet hair! Doesn't really have a water preference but I feel like it's either too hot or too cold depending on the day.

"Ah now we're gonna have more time to cuddle! Let's do this MC!"

Solomon:

Adores this idea, though he also prefers kind of cold water. Acts very natural but inside he is melting. Pls wash his hair it'll make him want to kiss you. Doesn't become a habit but if you offer once in a while he is down to shower together. Though now he enjoys buying you different kind of showergels!

"I don't remember ever doing this before so uhh.. maybe if I stand here and you there-"

Simeon:

Ah he is very shy at first, might not think this is a good idea. If you can convince him though he'll be quick to warm up to this moment! Just washes himself though, it's not on his mind to do it for you. Likes moderate temperature water.

"Ah this is not so bad, honestly. Would you wash my back, please?"

Barbatos:

Does his best to enjoy every minute he gets to spend with you. The water is however you want it to be, he can make do with whetever. Has veey good quality gels and he uses a generous amount if you let him wash you. Anything for you MC <3

"Alright, come in. How do you like the water?"

Diavolo:

He overthinks the situation a lot. Has to make sure you have showergel options to choose from and whichever you pick he gets more of. The first time is awkward, doesn't really know what to do so it's up to you to show him the ropes. The second, third, etc time he becomes so casual and funny you can't help but look forward to these sessions.

"Come MC, there is plenty of place for both of us! I'll just move over here and-"

[katiefrog217]

AziraCrow | Book Reading

(Scroll down for mini story vvvv) + (Companion Piece)

Aziraphale liked books, especially the old ones. They were the main reason for owning his bookshop, after all.

He loved reading them, too. Sitting quietly in the back of his bookshop with a good book and the occasional accompaniment of an old record made for quite the delightful evening, in his opinion. Despite his being handless (and therefore, fingerless), Aziraphale was perfectly capable of turning pages on his own. Not with his talons of course; Heaven only knew the trouble that would come from attempting to turn the aging and potentially fragile paper with such unreliable instruments. It would be a simple enough fix if a page did happen to tear, but the memory would haunt him forever. Instead, all it took was a flick of his wing and woosh, the pages would turn themselves. Sometimes he just had to ask nicely. However, there were times that he didn't need to expend the effort.

Those times just so happened to coincide with a particularly serpentine visitor.

Crowley's visits were irregular and not always predictable. Most of the time he would pop in to complain about Who-Knows-What and disappear off to Who-Knows-Where. Sometimes he would stay longer, and they would share a glass of wine or some other alcohol, chatting a lot about nothing and reminiscing about times long passed until the shadows grew long. On rare occasions they would sit in comfortable silence, doing nothing more than enjoying each other's company. Aziraphale would then pick a book to read and Crowley would slither over to join him.

Of course, Crowley didn't like reading - or at least claimed he didn't. 'Not worth his time,' he'd say dismissively. Still, he (bored expression and all) would come, make himself comfortable by coiling around both the book stand and Aziraphale, and just watch. Just about anyone on Earth would likely be uncomfortable being stared down by such an intense gaze, but not Aziraphale. Over the many millennia, he has grown used to being observed by those golden eyes. Dare he say, he even found it comforting in a way, but that was besides the point.

He wasn't sure how it started; perhaps Crowley found himself overly bored that day, but he began turning the book pages whenever Aziraphale raised his wing to compel them instead. It had started him at first, and he had looked to Crowley with much confusion, though the demon had nothing to say in return. He merely shrugged (or at least it could be considered the serpentine equivalent of a shrug) and turned away. A few more pages in, and he'd turn them again. This happened over and over until Aziraphale heaved a sigh gave in, allowing the serpent to do as he wanted. At first, it was quite awkward to give verbal cues, and there were times when he became so engrossed in his reading that he forgot entirely, but eventually they settled into a comfortable rhythm. Nowadays he didn't even bother. It had become almost automatic: Aziraphale would finish the page and it would turn, no questions asked.

Aziraphale suspected it would baffle the minds of many to see a demon treat anything so gently, yet Crowley turned the pages in such a way that they were never bent nor crumpled. In fact, it seemed to him that the older the book was, the gentler Crowley'd be. He seemed... 'content' was the wrong word to describe his attitude towards the activity, but he never said a word otherwise. At least, not to Aziraphale.

He never pointed this out, of course. Crowley would stop doing it if he did, and he didn't WANT him to stop. He enjoyed it too much.

Once in a blue moon, Crowley would make a comment about whatever Aziraphale was reading at the time. It was often snide, mocking, not always audible. Hisses of exasperation or an exaggerated eye roll were not uncommon either. Then he would turn away, bored despondence washing over his face, shutting down any attempts to further the conversation. Not that he would respond if Aziraphale did, though that hadn't stopped him from trying. On one occasion Aziraphale had tried to push the topic, only for Crowley to deflect, insisting that he had only glanced the passage at random. He stopped turning the pages then. Aziraphale never tried again and settled with only giving him sidelong glances when he said something particularly egregious.

And so they would read, the silence broken only by the ticking of an old clock and the occasionally rustle of a page.

...

Aziraphale liked his books.

He liked reading them alone in his bookshop.

But he liked them best when Crowley was there to turn the pages for him.

[moonlightndaydreams]

It’s your usual “anime afternoon” with Jisung but you accidentally put on porn.

Pairing: Han Jisung x Female Reader. I don’t use y/n in this.

Trope: Friends to lovers

Style: smut, all smut… 18+ MDNI

Warnings: watching porn (briefly), mutual masturbation, spitting, oral sex (f.rec), orgasms, unprotected piv sex (you know you should be safe guys), creampie.

Word Count: approx 3.6k

——————

“Let’s watch some anime, Sungie.” You called to your best friend Jisung, who was gathering snacks from his kitchen. 

“Huh?” He called back, but you were already grabbing the remote flicking on the widescreen television.

“It’s okay, I’ll just put on whatever you’ve been watching.” You added, knowing perfectly well he’d probably moved on from whatever you watched the last time you were over. But you didn’t mind. You just loved spending time with your best friend. Just hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. 

You sank back into the couch as the screen came to life. You were startled when high pitched pornographic whimpers filled the room, and a not so innocent visual of an animated woman jerking off an animated man came to life.

A crash came from the direction of the kitchen, and a very flustered Jisung appeared in the doorway.

“Fuck… baby,” he always called you baby, even though you were just friends. You tore your eyes away from the screen to find Jisung standing frozen, horrified, beet red and beyond flustered.

He rushed over to the couch, almost tripping in his haste, making grabby hands for the remote control. But you kept it out of his grasp.

“No, Sungie. I wanna see.” You protested. 

Realising he couldn’t get the remote off you, Jisung took to standing in front of the television, arms spread out wide and flapping them about trying to block your view. “Shit! I didn’t mean for you to see this.” He wailed.

“Sungie! Sit down. I mean it. I do want to see. I’ve never seen Hentai before.” you plead and batted your eyelids deviously.

It was true. You were deeply intrigued, and you wanted to see.

You patted the couch cushion next to you. “Come on, Sungie. Sit.” 

Jisung hesitated. “Are you sure?” He finally spoke. “You really wanna watch?” He sounded doubtful.

You closed your eyes and nodded vigorously. 

“O-okay.” He gulped in disbelief, and nervously sat himself at the opposite end of the couch, keeping as much distance as possible from you (because that way it would be harder for you to see the growing bulge under his sweatpants).

You both sat in complete silence for the next five minutes. Eyes glued to the screen. This was more awkward than you had anticipated. You thought that the pair of you would have a giggle over the size of appendages and breasts, and the excessive amounts of animated jizz.

Instead, you felt yourself growing wet, and a slight ache developing in your core.

And then you realised -  this is what Jisung gets off on. Of course he wouldn’t be joking around with you over it. He was probably feeling extremely uncomfortable right now, maybe even judged, and that’s the last thing you ever wanted him to feel.

Closing your eyes and sighing softly, you broke the silence. “Sungie,” you turned your gaze to him and he met your eyes. He looked - different. There was that familiar nervousness about him. But there was something else there too. His eyes seemed darker, his gaze a little unfocused. His eyelids heavy. “You are so quiet, Sungie. We don’t have to watch this.” You said softly. “We can turn it off, okay?” 

“Baby, it’s up to you.” He bit his lip. “But,” he hesitated, “it’s gonna take a little while to turn this off!” he jerked his head downwards towards his crotch. 

Without meaning to, you dropped your eyes to his lap finding him straining in his sweatpants. “Oh dear! Sungie,” your hands flew up to cover your mouth “Fuck, I’m-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to look…Oh God, I didn’t realise that you’d…” you started to ramble. 

“Baby,” he cut you off abruptly. You closed your mouth and stared at him, jolted by the assertive tone in his voice. Then his expression softened. “It’s porn. My type of porn. What did you think would happen to me sitting here watching this?… With you.” The last part was barely a whisper, almost like he didn’t intend to say it. 

For a moment you just looked at each other.

“Look,” he said, ignoring the sudden tension between the two of you. “this might be funny and entertaining to you,” he gestured to the screen, which you hadn’t turned off. “But…there was no way it wasn’t going to make me hard. I'm really sorry, baby. I hope I haven’t weirded you out.” He dropped his gaze to the floor and swallowed a lump in his throat.

“I’m aroused too, Sungie.” You admitted. 

Jisung’s eyes snapped up to yours with a perplexed expression, his doe eyes - his hopeful but aroused doe eyes - made him look lost and vulnerable. You felt your core pulse in response.

”Are..are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

You shook your head seriously and swallowed, feeling your cheeks flush. Jisung gulped. God, you felt nervous.

”At least you can hide it. Look at me. Ha ha.” He chuckled and you could tell his anxiety was getting the better of him. He rubbed his hands on his thighs before finding a cushion and placing it over his lap. “Ha ha.. I should have thought of that sooner. Oh sit there cushion. Stay put.” Then he tilted his head back to lean on the back of the couch and squeezed his eyes closed. The boy looked like he was in agony.

”Sungie. Baby.” You felt terrible that you had gotten him into this predicament. He was right. You could conceal how you were feeling, how your body was responding underneath your long, flowy skirt. You seemed so calm and nonchalant when all the while your cunt was begging to be touched, to be filled, and to be sated. You looked at where Jisung had balanced the cushion precariously on his (what you imagined to be) agonising erection. He still had his head back leaning against the back of the couch, and his eyes remained closed.

Your precious Sungie. So fucking vulnerable. Yet he hadn’t sent you away. He hadn’t turned off the porno. He hadn’t left the room. Perhaps he trusted you? That, or his anxiety caused him to freeze rather than fight or flee.

The cushion wobbled ever so slightly, almost falling from it’s perch. Balance. You needed to balance things out. You needed to be vulnerable too.

”I won’t hide it then.” You said steadily.

Jisung’s eyes slowly opened and for a moment he stared at the ceiling as though he was trying to decide if he had imagined your words. Still resting his head on the back of the couch, he lazily turned his face towards you. 

”Yeah?” He said low and breathlessly. You couldn’t quite tell if his expression was begging you or daring you to show him. Your cunt clenched.

”Yeah.” You whispered. Your teeth bit into your lower lip as you reached down to the hem of your skirt, and shifted your position to be resting your lower back against the arm of the couch and brought your legs to rest along the couch cushions. Slowly, you began to slide the fabric up your legs. One inch at a time. You kept your gaze on Jisung, who hadn’t moved except for his eyes. They were following your hands as they eventually lifted your skirt high enough to reveal your panties. You let your legs gently fall open, exposing your most intimate place to your best friend, even if it was covered by your panties.

You held your breath just as Jisung sucked in a breath, his eyes glued to the wet patch between your legs. You could feel the fabric sticking to your folds, and having Jisung’s lust filled eyes fixed to it made you gush even more.

The cushion fell off Jisung’s lap, almost comically. But he didn’t seem to care as his hand mindlessly went to palm himself.

“So you’re into Hentai then?…’cos I can give you some links if you want?” Jisung was trying to make light of this very new situation you had found yourselves in, but his voice came out husky and deep.

You weren’t even sure if it was really the porn that was turning you on at this point. In fact, you had stopped paying attention to it when you saw Jisung’s erection. You realised in that moment you wanted Jisung. Your Sungie.

“What would you normally do when you watch porn, Sungie? Show me.” You encouraged.

”Only if you show me what you do.” He countered.

”Okay.” You replied without hesitation.

”So…I’m gonna, like,  get my dick out now.” He stated. 

“Okay.” You said again. He gave you one last look to make sure you were serious, and when he felt certain that you were, he pulled his sweatpants down just enough to let his cock spring free.

A little whimper escaped your lips as you took in the magnificent sight that was Sungie’s cock. The silky smooth skin with a vein running up the shaft had your mouth watering. The pink, angry tip looked almost painful and you desperately wanted Jisung to feel relief from the strain.

Jisung licked his palm and wrapped his hand around his cock, and started to stroke it languidly. You looked up to find him watching you watch him.

”Hey…um…baby?” He tentatively began, “C-can I get you to, um, do something for me?” He stuttered. “It’s kinda dry… can you, if you want to that is… spit on it? Get it nice and wet for my hand?”

You thought he was going to ask you to suck him off, and part of you wished he had, but you also didn’t want to make assumptions about what he did and didn’t want. This whole situation was uncharted territory, and the last thing you wanted to do was overstep some boundary. 

“Okay.” You whispered (was that the only word you knew how to say anymore?) and shifted onto your knees beside Jisung.

Careful not to touch him, because you weren’t sure if you should, you leaned your face over his cock. Pre-cum was oozing from the tip and it was all that was needed to make your mouth water. You watched as a string of saliva left your mouth and connect to the head of Jisung’s cock, before it trickled down the slit and down his shaft. Jisung let out a sharp breath as your saliva made contact and his dick twitched.

”Good girl, baby.” Jisung praised, and you sat up on your knees proud of yourself.

You went back to your position up the other end of the couch and watched Jisung smear your saliva around his cock with his hand before pumping it rhythmically.

The thought alone, of him using your saliva to lubricate his cock, made you desperate for relief of your own. You took this moment to discard your drenched panties and lay a little further down on the couch and prop one leg up on the back of the couch, hanging the other off the side of the couch, your foot resting on the floor. You tried to block out the nerves of being so open and on display for your friend, and instead focus on the feelings of arousal.

You and Jisung locked eyes again. His expression told you he liked what he saw. He looked breathtaking when he was turned on. He looked almost drunk, and most of his nervousness had left him (although your nerves were worse than ever now).

Slowly, you reached for your pussy, spreading your lips apart and dipping a finger into your entrance. You gathered some of your wetness and slid your finger up to your swollen clit where you rubbed circles over it.

Jisung didn’t even try to peel his eyes away from where your hand pleasured yourself.

”Fuck, baby. You're so good to me…showing me how you play with yourself like that.” He choked. “Oh, fuck!” He cried, scrunching his face up and furrowing his eyebrows as spurts of cum took him by surprise and landed all over his tshirt.

”You look so good when you cum, Sungie.” I hope I get to see that face again sometime. You thought..

Jisung grinned that fucked-out grin you’ve seen your previous lovers have after they cum, but none of them looked as sexy as jisung. It only made the desire inside you grow.

Jisung pulled his shirt off to reveal his perfect broad shoulders and tiny waist, and used it to wipe away some of the cum that had landed on his skin and toss it to the side.

He let out a big relieving sigh and brought all his focus back to what you were doing. “Baby, you're glistening.” He said in awe. You were so wet right now, your juices smeared all over your core and even sticking to your inner thighs. 

“Spit on it, Sungie.” You purred, mirroring his request. Jisung smirked, and crawled over to you, making your heart rate speed up as he entered your personal space. He stopped only when his face was mere inches from your cunt. “Oh, so you like it really slippery and messy, huh?”

You knew he’d be able to see everything. You were sure he could see your clit throb, your cunt clench around nothing. You were certain he could smell your arousal too. Oh god. It was almost too much to bear having him drinking you in with his eyes like he was.

“Sungie,” you whimpered.

”Shh, baby. Sungie’s got you.” And with that he gathered some saliva, letting it dribble out in a long string. You clenched in anticipation as you watched it fall from his mouth, and hissed under your breath when it landed on your clit and ran down between your lips to your ass.

“Do you… do you wanna touch me, Sungie?” 

He glanced up at you. “Fuck, yeah!” He grinned. You reached out to gently cup his cheek, before sliding your hand up to push his dark, messy hair out of his eyes, while he took his thumb and slid it along your sopping slit from your entrance up to your sensitive bundle of nerves,  just like he’d seen you do moments before.

“Am I doing this ok?…. Fuck! You’re so slippery!” It was as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing and what he was feeling with his thumb.

“I have to taste you.” He looked up at you. “Can I taste you, baby?”

You nodded. “Yes. Sungie… please, I need to feel your mouth on me.”

Jisung nestled between your legs, resting on his forearms and placed his hands on your inner thighs, pushing them out wider to give him more access.

You kept your hands tangled in his hair as he moved in and attached his plush lips to your centre in a soft kiss. 

“Oh!” You cried. His lips felt searing hot, and he’d barely even begun to eat you out. Then he parted his lips and slipped his tongue out to lap at your entrance. You held one of your legs wider, and pulled Jisung’s face closer against your pussy. He devoured you like a starved man, messy and desperate. “Fuck, Sungie! Your mouth… nggghh… your tongue! Fuck!” 

You felt fingers at your entrance at the same time he moved his mouth up to latch onto your clit, and you arched your back off the couch when he slid two fingers inside of you whilst nibbling at your clit.

It was all of a sudden too much and you could feel yourself reaching your tipping point. “Sungie… I’m gonna cum… I’m… I’m…” you ground your hips wildly against Jisung’s face as you reached your high. Jisung stayed with you only slowing his fingers as you came down. Breathless, you laid your head back on the chair arm and tried to come back to earth.

Jisung peeked up from between your legs, his shit eating grin covered in your wetness. Your hand still tangled in his hair.

“Kiss me Jisung.” You whispered, using his real name. Moving quick like a cat, he was suddenly hovering over you, caging you in with his strong arms. 

You gazed into his beautiful boba eyes. They were what you loved most about your friend. And now he was staring at you like you’d hung the moon. His gaze flickered over your features, lingering on your lips. Then he was kissing you. 

His lips were soft and wet from your arousal. You could taste yourself on him. His tongue sought yours frantically, desperate for connection, just like he was with your pussy.

“You’re so good to me, baby.” He panted before connecting your lips again.

For the next few minutes the world fell away, and the sounds from the television long forgotten as you lost yourself to Jisung’s mouth. 

You could feel he was hard again as he ground against your bare centre. The fabric of his sweatpants was the only barrier stopping him from slipping inside you. His hand slid underneath your top, caressing the skin on your stomach. Why did his touch feel so hot, burning into your skin and making you melt into a puddle beneath him? 

“Baby,” he managed between kisses to your neck. “Are you gonna let me see all of you?” His hand slid up to cup your bra and squeeze your breast gently. “Mmm…Sungie…” you keened.

“Will you show me everything?” He panted, pressing his hot mouth to the skin of your neck again. 

“Mmm… only if you take these off.” You smirked and flicked the elastic waistband of his sweatpants. “I wanna feel you against me. Nothing in the way.” 

Jisung kneeled between your legs and swiftly stripped you of your top and bra, and then your skirt and his sweatpants.

He took a moment to take in your naked form, muttering a “fuck!” under his breath before lowering his body onto yours.

He pressed his pelvis against you, trapping his hardness between your bodies, and rolled his hips so the length of his cock slid along your pussy.

“Oh god… Oh Sung-” you mewled and wrapped your hands around his neck to pull his naked body closer to yours. You dragged your fingers down his sinewy back and dug your nails into his ass. Jisung groaned into your mouth, shifting his hips slightly. His cock slipped lower, the tip catching on your entrance causing you both to moan pathetically. But he didn’t push inside, despite your wriggling trying to get it to slip in. Jisung peppered kisses along your jaw, while his hands explored the bare skin of your thighs.

“Will you be mine baby? Will you let me fuck you raw? Say you want me… please, baby.”

He was out of his mind. But so were you. You knew you should be safe, to use protection, but the thought of any barrier separating you was too much distance. You wanted, needed him, to feel all of him, even if just for a second.

“Jisung…please… fuck me. Plea-”

You let out a low moan as Jisung sunk into you. Slowly, as though he was savouring the feeling of stretching you out around his cock.

“Is this okay?” He paused once he was fully seated inside you. You nodded and smiled, indicating you needed him to start moving.

“Jisung… you feel incredible.” You whispered against his sweat sheened neck.

Jisung repeated your name over and over like a mantra, worshiping every inch of your body, as he fucked you so very slowly. He took his time like he was in no hurry to reach your climaxes, rolling his hips and hitting your sweet spot at an agonisingly tender pace. Your eyes rolled back in your head when he took your nipple in his mouth, humming around it then biting down.

“I don’t want this to end.” He chuckled softly. “But I don’t think I can hold back any longer.”

You tangled your hands in his hair, and wrapped your legs around his trim waist. “I need you to fuck me good, Jisung. Show me how you want to fuck me, okay, baby?”

Jisung picked up the pace, pistoning hips harder and harder with each thrust. You had to hold on tight otherwise you were sure you’d be fucked right off the end of the couch.

Your cunt clenched tighter around his cock. 

“Oh fuck… I’m gonna cum if you clench like that.” He growled.

“I’m close, Sungie.” You panted squeezing your eyes closed.

“Cum for me, baby. Come on my cock.” He reached down and rubbed your clit causing you to shatter to a billion pieces and pulse rhythmically around him.

“Oh Sungie… oh…” you sobbed from the intensity of your orgasm. 

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you, yeah?” Jisung pushed a strand of hair off your sweaty forehead and smiled. The gesture made your heart burst. Then he started fucking you again. “You feel so good, baby. You’re so good to me. I’m gonna cum…Where can I-”

“Cum inside me. Fill me up. Please…please don’t pull out.”

Jisung’s hips stuttered and watched his face as you felt him release deep inside your cunt. He collapsed on top of you panting and you held him tight, stroking his back. 

For a good while that’s how you stayed. Just holding each other silently. The sounds of the porn on the television still filling the room, but neither of you noticing.

“Baby?” Jisung finally spoke.

“Mmm?” You hummed.

He lifted his head. “Does this mean we’re more than friends now?”

You reached up and squeezed his chubby cheek.

“I think so, Sungie. I think so.”

@channieandhisgoonsquad @queenmea604 @queen-in-the-shadows @kangnina @itshannjisung @noellllslut @weareapackofstrays

[verstappensrealwife]

No regrets - Oscar Piastri x Inexperienced!Fem!Reader

fluff, smut.

approx 1200 words

warnings: fem receiving: fingering and oral, p in v, loss of virginity, not proof read. Pussy and shaft….

based on this request :)

oscar piastri masterlist - here. f1 masterlist - here.

You never imagined losing your virginity to him.

He was your neighbor for goodness sake!

“Good morning!” He greeted each morning as you left your apartment at 8am sharp to head to work. You’d reply in kind and go on with your day, sometimes thinking to the cute boy across the hall.

Oscar, however, was not a morning person. He practically forced himself out of bed just to see you, speak to you, pretend to be going somewhere, then go back inside and chastise himself mentally for not even trying to ask you out.

One evening as you were coming home, he was leaving his apartment, and almost tripped over his feet when he saw you.

He was not prepared to speak to you. Each morning he’s silently sike himself up to utter two words. Now he was stuck in a situation: ignore you and pretend he didn’t just nearly fall straight into you, or mutter some words you probably won’t hear because of how quiet he would inevitably be.

“Hi,” You smiled as you pushed your key into your door.

“Hello.” He said back, not sure whether to walk away- very quickly- or stay and attempt to talk to you. It was the latter. “Sorry to be nosy but urm… well… I don’t think i actually know your name?”

“Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.” You replied, holding your hand out to him to shake. His hand felt more than limp in your grasp.

“Oscar… Piastri.”

“Nice to meet you, Oscar… Piastri.” you giggled, slightly making fun of his shy demeanour

He huffed a small laugh, “Sorry to be more nosy, but I don’t think I have your number either?” He tried… he really did. And he succeeded!

“Oh! Sure, yeah!” You passed him your phone, a small smile playing on your lips as you watched him press the digits into a new contact. “Well, I should be going, a girl needs to eat.”

“I- I mean you can eat with me…” He said, “I- that sounds weird- I- Do you wanna go on a date with me?”

That was the first of many dates he had invited you on. It became almost routine over the 2023 summer break for Oscar to take you out, every Friday evening, 7pm.

But by the end of August he had to of course go back to travelling the globe, racing cars.

The two of you stayed in touch, he gave you a key to his apartment to water his plants- of which only 2 were real. He routinely called you on a Friday night- unless team duties came upon him- to keep up with tradition.

But he grew tired of not being able to see you, physically.

The flight was long, and boring, but seeing Oscar as the first thing out the airport was more than exciting.He hugged you- longer than friends would hug- and led you by the small of your back to his car.

“To the hotel?” He asked you.

“Yes sir!” You smiled.

The hotel room you were put in was huge, the bed probably bigger than your kitchen at home.

Before you even touched your suitcase you fell, backwards, into the pristine white sheets of the hotel bed. Oscar falling in suit.

Lay next to eachother, you turned your head to see him already looking at you. He had a lovesick look in his eyes as he admired your face, eyes, lips. The more he stared at your lips, the more he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing them.

His body acted before his mind and he was kissing you before he knew it. You were a little taken aback but didn’t pull away- you didn’t want to.

Until he moved his hand from your face, to your waist, to the inside of your leg.

You jumped up quickly, almost headbutting him in the nose in the process.

He was more than swift to throw apologies at you, sorries and quick movement to the other side of the bed.

There was an uncomfortable silence which Oscar hated. He wanted to say something, anything, but no words could fix, what in his mind, was the most awkward encounter with a woman in his life.

“It’s not that I don’t want to…” You said quietly from the far side of the bed. He looked over at you, face flushed a light pink in embarrassment. “I– embarrassingly enough, im a virgin.”

He frowned confused. “Your a virgin? Like… never had sex… You?”

“Rub it in why dont you,” You laughed, “Why’s that so shocking?”

“Look at you! You’re like the most beautiful woman i’ve layed eyes on.” He wasn’t lying. “I thought men would be throwing themselves at you- I would.”

Now it was your turn to blush crimson, heat rising up your neck and across your face. You carefully shimmied towards him, holding his face gently. “If I’m gonna do it, I want it to be with you.”

That was all he needed to hear. He was on you like predator to prey, greedily kissing you, feeling your body needily. Until he went lower.

He was tentative, gentle in pushing his hands under the fabric of your underwear. Rubbing his finger up and down, smearing the wetness across your pussy. “Thats a good girl,” He said quietly. You weren’t meant to even hear him, but you did. And god, did it make you moan louder. He smirked at your visceral reaction. You heartbeat quickening as he pushed one finger, then two inside.

“See, no need to be nervous… Feels good, hm?”

You babbled some sort of response to him, a ‘yes’ somewhere in the jumble of the reply.

He pushed the clothes off of your bottom half completely, before moving to pull the shirt off your torso, unclipping your bra with ease and tossing it somewhere behind him. He was more than gentle as he kissed you, your neck, chest, stomach, thighs, and finally your clit.

He licked and sucked like there was no tomorrow. Indulging in the way your body reacted to him, to what he was doing to you, how he made you feel.

The first orgasm washed over you, legs shaking as he licked up everything. Climbing back up your body he was face to face, his mouth covered in a shine of liquid. “So, do you wanna do this. Really do it.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. He undressed, and kneeled between your legs, rolling a condom up the length of his shaft before positioning it infront of the entrance.

You took one final deep breath and he slowing pushed his hips towards your own. It hurt less than you had imagined- -but that didn’t take away from the fact it still stung.

He hadn’t moved in almost 2 minutes before you gave him the go ahead, pulling his hips back slowly and pushing them back towards you at the same pace. It hurt less as he carried on, eventually the sting turning to pleasure.

“Doing so- fuck- so well for me.” He groaned as he reached his peak slowly.

You could barely make words, so stuck to just moaning his name over and over again, whines of need flowing from your lips.

“Gonna cum, okay baby?”

You nodded quickly as he quickened his pace a little before his hips stuttered against yours before pulling out of you and immediately getting up. “I’ll be back- just need to clean you up.”

You never imagined losing your virginity to him.

But god, you didn’t regret it. Not one bit.

[lovebugism]

eddie x shy!reader who has never been kissed before? 🥺

hope u like it :D — you ask eddie why he didn't kiss you last night (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1k)

The night after Steve’s big house party, you wake up on the floor of Eddie’s room. He’d wanted you to take the bed, of course, but you refused to let him sleep alone. The two of you ended up sleeping right next to the mattress, as lovesick as you are stubborn.

His body is warm next to yours — a furnace that warms the quilt under your body and the comforter thrown over you. He’s lying on his stomach with his face shoved into the pillow. Hair wild and mouth open and so, so far away. You feel the distance like a heavy weight on your chest.

Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat when he rouses. His eyes flutter open, and you squeeze yours shut tight. You pretend to be asleep while he stretches his tired limbs. “I know you’re awake, you loon,” he teases through a yawn.

You smile despite yourself, peeking one eye open to find him already looking at you. His curly bangs are frizzed over his forehead. His chocolate button gaze is softly swollen with slumber. He’s sleep-drenched and utterly beautiful.

“No, I’m not,” you insist.

“Oh, yeah?” he huffs and turns onto his side, shifting closer to you. He sighs in contentment when his warm feet entwine with your colder ones. “Sorry, then. Don’t let me disturb your beauty rest, doll.”

He struggles to hold his eyes open, and your tired smile widens. Your hands tremble with the longing to reach for him — to smooth back the curls sticking to his jaw and to cradle his cheek in your palm — but you don’t let yourself. You cage them under your head and crumble beneath the weight of your yearning.

“Do you feel okay?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he answers, slurring slightly as he wakes. “I didn’t drink much ‘cause I knew I had to drive us home.”

He’d partied for an hour or more, soaking in the sunlight of everyone’s drunken attention. You were content just watching him. One painfully awkward exchange on the dancefloor later — involving an almost kiss that ended up as a friendly peck on your cheek — Eddie started to sober up. He scarfed down water and bread and tried to keep a tipsy Robin Buckley from getting into trouble.

“Do you feel okay?” Eddie wonders upon your silence.

“Mhmm.”

“Then what’s this look for, huh?” His hand rises from beneath the blanket and migrates to your face. He runs a gentle finger over the distant frown between your furrowed brows you didn’t realize was there.

“‘Cause you made me sleep on the floor all night,” you tease in a hushed tone.

He scoffs. “I wanted you to take the bed.”

“And Iwanted you to sleep in the bed with me.”

Eddie’s quiet laugh fills the dim bedroom. His crooked smile is quieter. “I just didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable, babe,” he confesses.

“Well, it wouldn’t’ve,” you murmur, gaze averted and half-shut. You busy your fidgeting hand with a rogue thread on the pillow beneath you. You wrap it around your pointer finger until the tip of it blooms a deeper shade.

“Good to know,” he smiles.

“Is that why…” The words get caught in your throat, and you trail off. You don’t bother to finish your sentence. You were barely brave enough to start it, anyway.

“Is that why what?”

You shake your head against the pillow. “Nothing.”

“No, c’mon,” Eddie croons, shifting again until his head’s on the very edge of his pillow, closer now to yours. He flashes you a soft, well-meaning smile. “Finish what you were gonna say…” he lilts quietly.

You swallow hard. “Is that why you didn’t wanna kiss me last night?”

Eddie’s breath catches for a moment. He exhales a forced laugh and musters a wavering smile. “You caught that, huh?”

“Kinda.”

“Sorry…” He doesn’t know what else to say — how to say that he’s head over heels in love with you and that he’s just a total dumbass. It’s somehow easier to apologize for being both.

“It’s no big deal,” you shrug, even though the thought has plagued your mind for nearly twelve hours now. “I just— I wasn’t sure if you, like, never wanted to kiss me ever, you know?”

“I wanna kiss you all the time,” he blurts with a scoffed laugh.

Your brows pinch. Your sheepish eyes flit between both his cinnamon ones. “Then why don’t you?”

“‘Cause I want you to feel comfortable around me,” he shrugs. “And I don’t wanna make you— you know— feel like I only want you around to be all over you all the time.”

You’re made of something softer than that, Eddie figures. You were delicate, like flower petals and early spring. He wants to treat you just as gently. He loves you so hard he’s scared he’ll break you.

“Well, sometimes I want you to be all over me,” you admit in a faint murmur, eyes sparkling and lips quirking.

Eddie grins wide. You have no idea that you’ve just unleashed a pandora’s box of his affection. Now that he’s got your permission to touch you, he’s not sure if he’ll ever stop.

“Noted,” he nods, shifting somehow closer until you’re sharing the same pillow. “What about now then, huh? Want me to be all over you— morning breath and all?”

You peer at him with doe eyes, firm and unblinking. “Want you all the time, Eds.”

“Good.”

He kisses you then, a gentle peck you didn’t know someone as brash as him was capable of. His plush lips press gently against yours, in a fleeting moment you grieve the second he pulls away. 

When he leans softly back to make sure you’re okay — to be certain that you still want more of him — you beat him to the punch. You chase him as he goes, caging his mouth in a deeper kiss that tastes only faintly of sleep. Your exhaled sighs fan together. Your lips click gently when you pull away.

“Woah,” you hear Eddie mumble.

It takes you a moment or more to open your eyes. You don’t realize how utterly dizzy you are until then. “Was that bad?” you murmur, face scrunched with misplaced panic.

Eddie shakes his wild head until the words catch up to him. “No. No, I just… I can’t believe we haven’t been doing this the whole time,” he confesses with a boyish laugh.

Your giggling entwines with his — innocent and pure and golden. He’s kissing the breath from your lungs a second later, with all the intensity of someone making up for lost time.

[crheativity]

This is my first time requesting here, so...

Hi! Mind if I send in a request? Hear me out: the track club bois, the basketball club bois and the spelldrive club bois getting a kiss on the cheek from the reader after a successful game/track meet

A KISS FOR THE VICTOR

SUMMARY: After a successful club meet, you give them a kiss on the cheek! How do they react?

WARNINGS: Some of these may be out of character (I’m sorry I still have no clue how to write Jack, Leona and Floyd)

COMMENTS: Hi! Sorry it’s taken me so long to get to this request, there were a lot of boys hehe! I hope you don’t mind but since there are a lot I did shorter headcanons instead of a full thing for each boy. Also, since I have no experience writing kisses yet, I just did their reactions. I hope that’s okay! This is such a cute prompt though, thank you so much for requesting it!!

Also, if you enjoy this, please consider checking out my 200 followers event!

TRACK CLUB

Jack froze, his eyes going wide. He coughed into his fist and looked away, desperately trying to regain his composure. A herculean feat, considering how adorable you looked gazing up at him like that. He smiles at you hesitantly - a small, wavering smile, before his cheeks go pink and he turns away to talk to his teammates. Although it seems he does not care, a keen eye will notice how his ears won’t stop twitching and his tail keeps wagging. 

Poor boy stopped responding immediately. He tripped on the sidewalk and almost fell over, he got so flustered. He can’t concentrate on anything now. He’s really sorry, he’s trying his best to listen to what you have to say, but his mind is replaying that kiss over and over… He can’t look you in the eye for the next few days. The moment he gets to crash in his room, he calls his mum. He briefly talked about his match, but mostly talked about you. How does he talk to you again after that?? He might be a little awkward over the next couple of days, but know that you’re constantly on his mind and in his heart.

BASKETBALL CLUB

Oh? You’re gonna give him a kiss? Well tough luck, he expects one every match from now on! So what if he doesn’t win? He wants one anyway! That’s how you can cheer him up after a match from now on!  But in the moment, he’s picking you up and spinning you around. His face is very red - whether from the exercise or from you, it’s hard to tell, but the bright red ears are a dead giveaway. He’s not gonna forget what you did, and loves to remind you - in the hopes that you’ll do it again.

Time stops for him and he stares at you, dumbfounded. His face heats up and boy does he wish he had his hood right now. He can’t talk to you or face you for the next hour as he struggles to figure out what to say. He does however feel really smug. Everyone in the match did super well, but he was the only one who got a kiss! From you! Ha! …wait. He was the only one who got a kiss. From you. He’s confused and flustered all over again. Please confess to him before he goes insane.

Ehhh~? Shrimpy’s giving him a kiss? Only one on the cheek? Screw that, he’s gonna give you an actual kiss! And a squeeze to boot. The moment you give him a kiss he registers that kisses are okay in whatever relationship you and he have and boy is he gonna abuse that. What are the two of you? He doesn’t care as long as you don’t, but if he makes you uncomfortable then he wants to know. Like Ace, he’s going to be expecting one for every match now, but if you don’t give him a kiss for some reason that won’t stop him giving you one~!

SPELLDRIVE CLUB

You thought Ace was bad? Leona’s gonna be so much worse. He doesn’t tease you quite as much, but he’s going to be incredibly smug, both after the track meeting and for the next couple of weeks after. Please be prepared for suddenly more Leona in your life, as the moment you press a kiss to his cheek he’s going to take that as a rite of passage to be almost constantly around you. He will encourage you to ditch class with him as much as possible. He just wants to spend more time with you now, and after that kiss, surely that means you want that too, right?

Ruggie nervously laughs it off, his cheeks going bright pink as he fumbles for something to say. He honestly, genuinely wasn’t expecting it - you managed to catch him so off guard that he doesn’t quite know how to act. Ah, but he’s not upset! He’s exactly the opposite of that, if anything. Elated, maybe? Who cares, his crush just kissed him! He is going to be bragging so hard to Leona and anyone who’ll listen afterwards. Maybe he’ll start giving you a couple more snacks - with a kiss as payment of course! Shishishi.

LET’S FREAKING GOOO. wait. Did you just kiss me-? Epel was in such a good mood after his match that his brain didn’t fully register that you just kissed him. He takes a break from celebrating for a moment to double check. When you confirm that yes, in fact, you did kiss him, his cheeks go apple red and he starts celebrating way harder. Calm down? He can’t calm down, this is the best day of his life! He won a match and got a kiss from a cutie to boot! The only thing that makes him calm down a little is Vil threatening to smack him with his shoe.

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

[adorsturns]

𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐇𝐂'𝐒

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : tattoo artist!matt × reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : curse words, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (wrap b4 u tap kids!!), degrading, marking, fingering.

𝐚/𝐧 : dare i say tattoo artist!matt> fratboy!chris :0

×××

NOT PROOF READ!!!

SFW

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tattoo artist!matt who assigned you a nickname based on your first design with him...

matt greets you as you walk in, “rose! y’ready for your next session?”

you roll your eyes smirking, “guess I’m stuck with this nickname now.”

“wouldn’t have it any other way,” he replies,

tattoo artist!matt who gives you deliberate touches...

matt’s touch is steady and careful while tatting you up, but there’s a subtle warmth in the way his fingers graze your skin. he doesn’t hide the fact that he enjoys the closeness, his hands lingering just a bit longer than necessary.

“you’ve got such soft skin. makes me want to take my time with this tattoo.”

you smile knowingly, “just the tattoo?”

he chuckles softly, his eyes not leaving your skin “for now atleast”

tattoo artist!matt who offers constant reassurance...

when you start to tense up, matt leans in close, softly and reassuringly. he only wants for you to be comfortable.

you wince at the inking machine “i know, i know. relax, you’re doing great. just breathe.”

“easier said than done,” you reply, trying to steady your breath.

“don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he says, his voice calm, almost protective.

tattoo artist!matt who loves to tease you...

matt can’t resist throwing in some light, flirty comments while he works. his teasing is so natural, and lightens the mood when youre on the verge of tears from the pain of the tattoo gun.

“you’re handling this like a badass. i knew you’d be tough.”

“tougher than I look?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

“for sure,” he grins, “but youre definitely tougher than you think you are”

tattoo artist!matt who showers you in compliments...

matt doesn’t shy away from complimenting you, but his words are genuine and gentlemanly. he makes it clear that he finds you attractive in a way that feels flattering rather than awkward.

“this design looks amazing on you. but I’m not surprised —you pull it off effortlessly”

you laugh, “y’think?”

“yeah,” he replies with a wink that sends butterflies to your stomach.

tattoo artist!matt who stays comfortably close to you...

matt stands close enough that you can feel his presence without it being overwhelming. you find comfort in how he invades your space, making it feel more intimate.

“i need to get in close for this part. let me know if you get uncomfortable.”

“you’re fine,” you assure him, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest.

“good,” he says, his voice low, “because i wasn't planning on going anywhere.”

tattoo artist!matt who admires his work...

after finishing the tattoo, matt takes a moment to admire his work on your skin. his compliments are genuine, and he makes you feel appreciated.

“its perfect, you're perfect”

you blush, brushing off his comment “yeah it stings like a bitch though”

tattoo artist!matt who hints at his interest in you...

when discussing how to take care of your new ink, matt casually hints that he wouldn’t mind seeing you again. you think hes joking, but theres a part of you that thinks he isnt.

“take good care of it, and let me know if you need any help with the healing.”

“i think i got it, but I’ll keep your offer in mind,” you reply, meeting his eyes.

“i wouldn’t mind checking in on it... and you,” he says with a playful look on his face.

tattoo artist!matt who will always return your eye contact...

matt holds your gaze whenever he talks to you, his eyes full of warmth. it’s like he’s trying to see how long you can hold his eyes before you look away.

“you keep looking at me like that, and I might start thinking you enjoy this a little too much,” you tease

he laughs, shrugging “maybe I do”

“in that case, i’ll make sure it’s worth your while,” you say, biting your bottom lip.

NSFW

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tattoo artist!matt who takes you to his loft above his tattoo salon...

matt takes you by the hand, upstairs to what seems like a loft. as soon as he closes the door behind him matt leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was both hungry and passionate. you could feel the heat of his body against yours,

“so do you bring all your clients up here?” you manage to get out between the heated kiss.

“only the cute ones” matt teases, pushing you up against the wall and having your legs wrap around him.

tattoo artist!matt who eats you out like theres no tomorrow...

your pussy throbs against matts toungue as he holds you still by your thighs. he kitten licks your cunt, biting your clit which made you jolt your hips upwards in both pain and pleasure. it hadnt even been a minute till you came all over his toungue. matt didnt care though, in fact, he degraded you for it,

“you are such a little slut, i just started and you're already a mess for me arent you rose?” he said in a faux sympathetic tone.

tattoo artist!matt who loves watching his fingers slide in and out of you...

you lay flat on your back, matt between your thighs with two of his digits in your walls. his mouth hung open as he watched them slip in and out with ease, and how your face contorted each time he curled them upwards, grazing your g-spot. matt couldnt help but smile at how pretty you looked, all dumb on his fingers.

tattoo artist!matt who marks your body...

matts lips connect to your silky skin at the side of your hips, leaving a mark similar to the other ones near the crook of your neck that he made earlier. he stares at the bruises proudly as he caresses them softly,

“what do you say we get these tatted hm?”

tattoo artist!matt who makes sure his work is always on full display while he fucks you...

“fuck, turn around f’me” matt pants as he pulls out of your soaking cunt, you comply, turning around with your hands and knees on his bed.

your fresh bow tattoo on your lower back was now visible to him. he stared in awe at your red skin, running a finger over it that sent chills down your spine.

tattoo artist!matt who comes on your back...

“shit- m’close-” matt drills his cock into you faster. your eyes roll to the back of your head as his pelvis slams into your ass. matt pulls out as thick, hot, spurts of cum squirt onto your back, just above your tattoo.

“so... pretty” he sighs stroking your hair as your legs shake, begging to collapse. “you did so good” matt praises.

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