In which crazy gf!reader argues with Boyfriend!Sukuna on a bridge in broad daylight
“It was a fucking milkshake!” he roars.
“It was cheating!” you shriek. People look and point. You ignore them. “You paid for a girl’s milkshake! That means you want her milkshake! I see your infidelity. Real eyes realise real lies, asshole!”
Sukuna groans, face in hands. This day was going from bad to worse — waking up late because you turned his alarms off, getting a ticket when you leaned over to beep the horn at a police car, almost getting into a fist fight after you shoved him into a random man, and now?
Now, he’s stuck on a bridge because his vengeful girlfriend’s pissed he treated a classmate to a milkshake. Apparently, milkshakes are equivalent to head in your books. Suffice to say, he’s ready for the day to end.
And it’s not even 12pm yet.
“Jesus, you drive me fucking insane,” Sukuna grits out. His foot taps relentlessly against the cement, muscles in his face ticking, jaw flexing. “You’ve got a real skill for ruining my goddamn life, I swear to god, woman.”
“Oh? Well, if your life sucks so much, then make a new one without me!” you screech, arms flailing wildly. “In fact, lemme help you out by just, I don’t know, jumping off this goddamn bridge!”
“Yeah, please fucking do! I’ll join you!”
People passing by whisper: “Oh my god, they’re causing a scene,” “should we step in?”, and “are they actually going to jump?” Or some variations of those. Concerned, an old lady steps forward and offers, “My dear, if you need help, we’re here for you.”
You whirl around, throwing the death glare you had at them instead of your boyfriend. That isn’t enough for them to take the hint, it would seem. Taking a deep breath, you give Sukuna only a second to brace himself before you proceed to start…barking. Like a chihuaha. Yipping is probably more accurate. You bark and bark and bark until even more people stop to look. They flinch back, aghast. The old lady splutters, “What on Earth is wrong with you?”
“Fuck you, you old bat,” Sukuna snaps, angry for a new reason. “Never heard a woman bark before? Grow the fuck up and get the hell away from us — our foreplay’s none of your goddamn business.”
Blanching, they stumble back. Then, they march away from the train wreck of a couple making a scene on the bridge flustered and embarrassed. You watch them leave. “Ugh, people these days,” you scoff. “No manners.”
Sukuna grunts in agreement. “Weirdos.” He glances down at you. “Where were we?”
You hum in thought, then beam. “I was gonna jump off the bridge.”
“Oh, yeah.” Shaking tension back into his body, he moulds his face back into an angry scowl. “You can’t keep threatening to jump every time you don’t get your way!”
“Says who?” you yell.
Across the bridge, two policemen sigh and shake their heads at the people silently questioning if they’re going to do something. All they say is, “They’re here every week.”
Based off a couple I saw actually arguing on a bridge a couple days ago. Hope they’re doing well
It’s been a slow day in the pitt with few major traumas and a lighter load of charts than normal. Due to this you decided to take your lunch break a little early.
A dramatic sigh sounds from across you at the breakroom table.
“Giiiiirl, I am ready to go.” Trinity moans as she mindlessly scrolls through her phone.
You smile a bit as you eat your sandwich.
“Like why didn’t we just skip medical school and do tiktoks all day, i swear”
Looking down you do your best to hold in your laugh before responding.
“Maybe because we’re too uncoordinated for that life and would end up in the pitt from a dumbass injury?”
Trinity gives you a blank stare before frowning “Ugh you’re right, sweets. We’d be ass.”
Suddenly her eyes widen as she looks at you.
That can only mean trouble.
“Trinity Santos if y-”
“Hear me out! I have an idea!” she pleas
You look at her with a raised eyebrow
“Okay” she starts “have you ever done a tiktok prank on your boy toy?”
You laugh as you roll your eyes.
“Trin, Jack is my fiancee, not my boy toy. But no I haven’t.”
She quickly moves to the seat beside you, leaning into your side with her phone in your face.
“This would be a good one to try on him. He’s so whipped by you, it’s perfect.”
You scrunch your face as you watch the video she shows you.
It’s a compilation of a girl nonchalantly wiping off her boyfriend’s kisses and catching his reactions.
Funnily enough, Trinity was right about this being a perfect one for Jack. Jack, your physically affectionate fiancee who would stay wrapped around you all day if he could. Who loves giving kisses and getting them too.
“Okay, I’ll do it but you have to get the reactions. And if it ends badly I’m blaming you fully.” you point a finger at her.
She salutes you with a goofy smile “Ma’am yes ma'am."
You shake your head with a smile.
Oh Jack.
Please don’t hate me for this
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Jack’s shift started two hours before yours so he was up and out of the house before you had even gotten out of bed.
All you remember was a kiss pressed to your forehead and a soft ‘love you’.
You savored it because that was gonna be the last one you let stay for the next several hours.
—--
You walk into the pitt, bag and lunch box in hand, and make your way to the locker rooms. That’s where you find Trinity waiting with a big smile. She looked like she was vibrating with excitement.
“Sweets, thank god! I thought you were gonna back out.”
You chuckle while putting your things up “As if. I feel kinda bad but I know he’ll get a laugh out of it later.”
Trinity links arms with you as you both make your way to the nurses station.
“That man could never truly be upset with you. He’s all heart eyes for you and shit.”
Your face heats up at her words.
Trinity lets go of you and taps her phone.
“I’ll be around and catch all the good stuff.”
“Okay Trin, let’s do this” you point at her as she makes herself scarce.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
The first time Jack comes around for the day, he spots you standing at the desk working on charts. You don’t notice him until strong arms gently wrap around your waist.
“Hey pretty girl, how are things so far?”
You turn your head towards him and he kisses your cheek.
Here it goes.
“Hey handsome,” you smile as you nonchalant wipe the kiss off “it’s been okay. Hoping for a fast day.”
You don’t miss the way Jack zeros in on your hand when you wipe off your cheek. He looks a bit confused but otherwise keeps his smile.
“Is everything o–”
“Incoming MVAs! Multi-car pileup with several patients in route! Get ready!”
Jack’s interrupted by Dana’s announcement.
“That’s our cue, babe. Let’s go” you close your chart and go join the other nurses to gather medical supplies.
Jack watches as you move but shakes his head.
Maybe he’s just seeing things.
—--
The next time it happens, you’re taking a breather in the ambulance bay after a busy nonstop string of traumas.
Hands on your hips you slowly pace back and forth, letting out a large breath.
Jack had seen you make your way out of the building and gave you a few minutes alone before following you out.
He finds you with your hands covering your face as you continue to pace. He steps into your path and pulls your hands from your face.
“Hey, you did great in there sweetheart” he praises you.
You nod your head silently.
“Thanks J. I’m just… I just needed a minute.”
He pulls you closer to his body.
Jack kisses you briefly, wishing he could bundle you up and take you home.
You, again, wipe the kiss off but this time with the sleeve of your scrub.
“I need to get back but at least we get to go home soon. See you in a bit J.”
You give him a wave as you walk back into the pitt.
Jack stands there with his arms crossed. This time he knows he didn’t just imagine it.
You did wipe off his kiss.
But why?
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
The one that finally does him in is when you’re talking to Robby about a patient you both were helping. You both had stepped out of the room to discuss treatment and recovery when Jack makes his way towards you.
Surely you would accept his affection in front of friends.
Little did he know.
“Hey sweetheart” he greets you.
He then grabs your waist from behind with one arm and the other across your chest, placing a kiss on your cheek.
“Ready to head home?”
Then you do it. You wipe the cheek he kissed with the back of your hand.
“Yesss finally,” you answer dramatically.
Jack’s eyes widen as he looks at Robby who has equally wide eyes.
In the whole time he had been around you and Jack, he had never seen you shy away or literally wipe away his affection towards you.
“I’ll take care of this first thing in the morning Robby” then you turn to Jack “I’m gonna grab my stuff and then we’ll go. Be right back.”
The two men watch as you go.
“Dude” Robby starts “What was that?”
Jack shrugs as he looks in the direction you disappeared to.
“I dont know but im fucking worried man.”
Robby pats his back “It’s something but I wouldn’t worry too much. Just talk to her.”
Jack nods as Robby walks off.
He can only hope whatever it is can be fixed.
—--
You both walk to Jack’s truck, arms full of your stuff.
You’re in the middle of naming dinner options as you go to reach for the passenger door handle
“I could make spaghetti. Maybe some quick steaks. Oh! I could make that casserole you l–”
Everything stops as Jack’s hand pushes against your door, keeping you from opening it.
You turn your head to Jack.
“J, what’s wrong?”
He gets close into your space.
“First, you know that you’re never going to have to open your own door when I'm around. Second,” his hand goes to your hip “Is everything okay?”
You know what he’s talking about but you have to play it cool.
“Yeah? What are you talking about baby?”
He looks to the side and takes a deep breath.
“I… did I do something wrong? Are you upset with me? You’ve wiped off all of my kisses today and I'm lost here baby. Just tell me what I did so I can fix it”
Fuck.
You don't know how much longer you can keep this up.
It breaks your heart that he thinks he's done something wrong.
You set your things down and grab his face in your hands.
“It was a joke, J. Something Trinity saw online. There's nothing you did wrong.”
His face scrunches “a joke? So we're okay?”
“Yes Jack, we’re okay. I promise. I’m sure Trin will send me the video she took of it earlier.”
He immediately kisses you. It turns more into a short makeout. He pulls back slightly, forehead pressed to yours.
“Gonna wipe that one off?” he smirks
You chuckle at that.
“Hmmm, I think I need another one before I decide.”
coffee (that kisses you) — polyam night shift x reader
You own a cafe that Abbot, Shen, and Ellis like to frequent after their shift. You may or may not be harbouring a crush on them.
Pairings: Polyamorous Jack Abbot x Reader x John Shen & Parker Ellis x Reader.
Word count: 1.5k
Tags: Reader is bisexual; Reader owns a cafe.
Notes: this was meant to be under 1k but idk how to do that, apparently.
Cross posted to AO3.
There’s small cafe around the corner from the PTMC that opened its doors two months ago. A chalkboard A-Frame sign on the street that displays discounts for medical professionals.
7 AM marks the start of day shift, and the end of night shift. And like clockwork, they file in, a bell chiming overhead.
“What if I change it up?” Shen muses, hands stationed on his hips, staring up at the blackboard menu of drink selections.
Behind the counter, you can’t disguise the way your mouth drops. Gaze dropping to the already prepared drinks sitting on the serving tray. “Oh.”
“I’m kidding. I’m kidding, I’m so sorry. I was kidding.” His hands on the edges of the tray, stopping you from dragging it back to your side of the counter space.
“No, I mean, you can try something new if you—”
“Oh, I absolutely don’t want to. I’m a creature of habit.”
Ellis, who’s already claimed their table, laughs. “Shen, buddy.”
“I’m sorry,” Shen says again, but he’s grinning like it’s the best prank he’s ever initiated.
You shake your head. “You know, I don’t think you are. But I’ll accept it.”
Shen beams. You think he winks at you, but you’re pretty sure that’s just you and your wishful thinking.
Abbot slides in next to him, tapping his card against the EFTPOS machine. “Thank you. Sorry about him.”
“Thank you. Enjoy.” You wave them off.
Their table stays quiet for the first 15 minutes as they always do, unwinding from their shift in companionable silence.
You keep working, and as it passes 8 AM, they leave, as they always do. The three of them don’t come every day, but it’s close enough that you’ve learned their orders and names.
You’ve never quite breached the wall of hospitality you’ve upheld, but something changes after Shen’s stunt.
Three days later, they’re back again, albeit later than seven. The tinkling of the bell signalling their arrival after the morning rush. They probably had to put in some overtime, if the tired way they shuffle through the cafe door is of any indication.
You tell them you’ll be a moment, and they sit at their usual table while you work on their order. When you’re done, you walk to them, balancing the serving plate.
“Whoa, what’s this?” Ellis’ hand on yours, stopping the trajectory of your hand after you set her latte down.
You falter, staring at her hand. The hand that’s touching yours. “What’s what?”
Her thumb brushes over the dark smudge below your knuckles. Voice lowering, “Did you get hurt?”
Movement from the other two, attention snapping onto you.
“Oh. No—it’s paint.” Flexing your fingers in her hold. It hadn’t come off in the shower, or through your rigorous hand washing, and you’d forgotten about it.
“You paint?”
“Yeah. I wanted some new pieces for my wall.” You gesture the serving tray towards the wall of small canvas pieces you’ve hung up. Because Ellis is still holding your other hand. Whatever. That’s normal. You don’t need to freak out about it.
“You painted those?”
“I did, yes.”
Ellis lets go, pushing out of her chair, walking over to inspect the pieces closely. “Damn. You got talent.”
“Ah—thank you.” You’re both relieved she let go, but mourning the loss of contact. Fingers closing around the tray you’re holding, now in both hands.
“How much for one?” Abbot cranes his neck, studying them from where he’s sat.
“They’re—I did them for fun. I’m not selling them.” You’re shaking your head as you chuckle, attention falling onto Abbot.
“I’m serious. Name your price. I could do with a few pieces in my place.”
“Ugh, look at the big shot attending, with his big attending money,” Shen says, rolling his eyes.
“You’re an attending too—”
“I’m not trying to buy a painting—”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re just jealous of my big attending brain because you didn’t think of it first—”
“Shut up,” Shen sniffs, shoving Abbot’s shoulder. “Hey, I think the pedes floor in the Pitt were talking about wanting a makeover.”
“They were. You should put your name in for it,” Abbot says to you.
“The—I’m sorry, the what?” You blink, looking between the two of them.
“Hospital. Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. Pitt for short, since PTMC is still a mouthful.”
Ellis is back. She bumps her shoulder against yours gently. “We could probably update our pedes room too. You’d get to see us in our element if you’re down in the ER.”
Abbot’s face does something complicated at the mention of the pedes room.
“Yeah, that’d be a good idea,” Shen says.
“I can’t—I just do this for fun.”
“They’ve got the vision. They just need the artists.” Leaning into Abbot’s shoulder, Shen holds his phone out to you. “Put in your name and number, and I’ll pass it onto… admin? Or whoever handles this.”
You stare at his phone. Long enough that he starts wiggling it in your direction.
“C’mon.”
You gingerly take his phone, inputting your details. Missing the way Ellis shoots Shen a look, rolling her eyes at the completely smug grin on his face.
Abbot elbows him, despite not seeing the expression. He’s sure he can feel it, though.
“Great,” Abbot says, when you hand Shen his phone back. “So we’ll get to see more of you, then.”
“Yes, we will.” Ellis’ hand on the small of your back as she passes behind you, taking her seat again.
Your mind feels blank. You’re saved by the bell ringing, a couple entering. You scurry behind the counter with a quick thank you to the doctors.
“You lose the kids in the divorce?” A warm smile when Abbot steps towards the counter.
Abbot chuckles, shaking his head. “Is that what they said?”
The morning consisted of only Ellis and Shen. Of course you noticed that Abbot wasn’t there. Ellis informed you it was Abbot’s day off—perks of being a senior attending. Shen, the little shit that you’re learning he is, told you that he was going to tell Abbot that he was sorely missed by their favourite barista.
“No, but I’ve got an active imagination that can fill in the blanks. The usual for your day off, Dr Abbot?”
“Yeah. And it’s—just Jack.” He’s come in at a time when the cafe’s quiet. No other customers around. He watches you fill the portafilter with ground coffee. Tap it out, flatten it with the puck. “You hear back from admin yet?”
“No, not yet.” You’re not expecting anything, really.
“Hey, I got it on good authority they’ve got the contracts ready.”
“Thanks for the insider knowledge.” You incline your head, smiling as you affix the portafilter to the machine. Press the button for the shot. Mug underneath.
“You planning on closing up when you’re in there?”
Steaming the milk. “Don’t think I can. Cafe’s too new. Still trying to find my feet.”
“You’re still going to open?”
“Place isn’t going to run itself.”
Jack makes a displeased noise, but doesn’t say anything more on it. He takes his usual seat, despite the table being empty of its usual occupants. Saucer, then mug on top. You walk it over to him.
You take down one of your older paintings from the wall. A sunset you replicated. The image still resides on your phone, a memory captured in time. Set yourself by his table. “Here.”
He stares at it. Then drags his gaze up to you. “I thought you said you weren’t selling it.”
“I’m not selling it. I’m gifting it.”
“No, I can’t just take—”
“Please.”
Jack falls quiet. “Okay.” Carefully takes the canvas from you, studies your brush strokes.
“Thank you,” you say. Then you’re back behind the counter as another customer walks in.
It’s not until after he leaves, and you’re cleaning up the tables, do you notice the two $100 bills tucked under his saucer.
A week later, you receive an email from the PTMC’s Administration team about your expression of interest when you’re in your kitchen, testing out a new recipe for brownies.
Then, incoming texts from a new number:
check your emails :)
oh it’s john shen btw :))
night shift dr regular with abbot and parker
You stare at both the email and texts for hours.
Why the hell not? You respond to the email. And to Shen, you text back a simple thank you to which he responds with another smiley face.
The next time you see them in the cafe, you set down three plates of bagels at their table. “I’m testing out something new.”
“You made these?” Ellis asks.
You nod.
She pulls out the chair next to her. “Sit.”
“I need to—”
“You’ve been on your feet all day,” Abbot says.
“It’s my job.”
“Oh, you’re too cool to hang out with us?” Shen pokes.
“No,” you sigh, knowing this is a losing battle. They’re ganging up on you, and you’re weak willed against them.
You take the seat next to Ellis as they chatter, pivoting from hospital speak.
A thought, daring but there—you could get use to this.
“You’re cutting me off?” you grin hazily, your hand weakly following Steve’s as he withholds the lit cigarette over your head, just out of reach.
He just chuckles, keeping one hand around your waist to steady you as you try and lean towards his outstretched arm. The cigarette sits comfortably between two of his fingers. It feels miles away when your head is this fuzzy and distracted by the placement of his hand.
“You really think I’m going to let this become a habit for you?” he teases, sliding his fingertips under the hem of your tank top, his deft fingertips grazing your skin as you stay sat on his lap. You like it when he touches you as if it’s simply natural to him. “It’s bad enough that I’m letting you bum one off of me right now.”
You give another small effort to try and snatch it from him, but it’s no use.
“Ugh, fine,” you groan, letting your body go limp against his frame in defeat.
You feel his warm laugh rumble against your chest as he brings the cig to his lips, taking a long drag of it. Blinking slowly, you watch as he leans over to the open window, gray smoke spilling from his perfect lips into the cool summer air. He wasn’t risking letting the smell of smoke seep into any of his parents’ furniture. He didn’t need the headache of getting reprimanded by them.
“Comfy?” he asks, absentmindedly tracing the soft skin at your hip in nonsensical swirls and patterns.
“Mm… yeah,” you mutter, your gaze stuck on his pretty mouth.
One of your favorite pastimes with your boyfriend is staying up as late as possible and just talking for hours. Your conversations have no bounds when you’re both a bit bleary-eyed and giggling. With his wandering hands and your loosened lips, it’s no surprise when the topic shifts to something more risque. He can draw out a more shameless side of you with just a look, coaxing things out of you that you wouldn’t dream of uttering to anyone else. Somehow, you end up on one topic in particular…
“It’s not real, Steve, no. Squirting is just a rumor made up by dumb boys,” you insist, shaking your head stubbornly.
Steve tilts his head at you, his bright eyes flickering over your face. His eyebrows furrow with contemplation as his hand runs through your hair smoothly. When he speaks, his voice is tinged with that teasing little lilt that he’s mastered.
“Is it, though?” he asks, “I mean, I’ve heard stories.”
You give him a look. By now, you knew better than to believe what was heard through the grapevine in a town like this.
“Oh, stories, huh?” you drawl skeptically, “What, from dumb boys in high school?”
He hesitates for a few moments before giving a nod, rolling his eyes at you.
“Okay, maybe. But what if I told you I’ve heard it from girls too?” he says, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leans down close to your ear, “Girls who said it felt incredible.”
A shiver skitters down your spine, tingling under your skin faster than the start of a brush fire at just the gravelly sound of his voice in your ear. You grasp his shoulders, making sure you won’t topple over onto his couch.
“You’re lying.”
“Uh-huh. Well, I think you’re curious,” he challenges, grinning lazily at your stubbornness before pressing a kiss just below your ear. You huff, pulling away to meet his eyes that are crinkled at the corners with amusement.
“I guess we’ll never know,” you shrug.
Steve hums, placing a hand at the base of your spine to keep you steady as he leans to stub out the finished cigarette in his father’s ashtray.
He’s quiet. Too quiet. The gears are turning in his head. You feel the way his hand toys with the hem of your shirt as he thinks.
“Unless… you’d want to do some research of our own,” he says, his tone playful, but there’s an air of genuine suggestion about it.
Steve takes one of your hands in his, giving it a squeeze before pressing his lips to each of your fingertips, one by one, his eye contact unwavering. You swallow thickly, your stomach swooping down to your feet as you count each kiss in your head, one to ten. You feel Steve’s lips curve into a knowing smile against your fingers as he watches your expression change from skepticism to something a bit more considering. He knows and loves how easily he can loosen your nos into maybes. And maybe you are just a bit curious.
“Just saying, y’know, if you wanted to find out,” he suggests lowly, raising his eyebrows at you suggestively.
“Oh, you want to debunk it now?”
“Yeah, why not? For science,” he shrugs, his other hand continuing a slow, soothing path up your back, “I could do it. It’s easy.”
You shoot him another deadpan look despite the way his cockiness gives you the urge to press your thighs together. Your mind is beginning to wander to more unwholesome places, flashing with various images that make your face feel hot, ones you’d only allowed yourself to contemplate in the darkness of your own room. You can’t believe that you’re actually considering letting him try this.
“Oh, you could do it?”
“Yeah, you heard me. Take your pants off,” he says, laughing as he pinches your side, making you yelp his name in protest.
You sigh as Steve impatiently drums his fingers against your hips, waiting expectantly for the moment he can whisk you off to his bedroom and pounce.
“I mean, I dunno. At the very least, I’d probably just come,” you say slowly, looking up towards the ceiling as you contemplate.
“See? That’s the spirit,” he chuckles, his eyes shining as he leans in again, his breath warm against your neck, “Or, maybe I blow your mind.”
His fingers tangle into your hair, gently tilting your head so he can fully access your neck. Steve presses lazy kisses to your skin, causing tingly sensations to flood your body. You feel your lashes flutter as you shift closer to him on his lap, drawn to him by a force that can only be described as magnetic.
“This is crazy,” you mumble.
“Hey, you’re the one that started it with all that ‘is it even real’ shit,” he grins, letting his bottom lip graze your earlobe.
Steve nips at your ear, his hands sliding downwards to squeeze your ass in his palms with a soft grunt. You know for a fact that he’s already having visions. Visions of making you gush like he’s heard in those hushed whispers of recounted sex stories.
“How’s it supposed to work anyway?” you murmur, your head lolled backwards.
“Uhh… I don’t know, actually,” he admits with a shrug, speaking against your neck.
Steve picks up his head slowly, his lower lip caught between his teeth contemplatively. His next words are spoken slowly, his hand lifting to point at you in a poor attempt to appear menacing.
“I’m going to show you something, and you cannot, under any circumstances, laugh.”
“... Okay, I won’t–”
“I’m serious!” he interrupts sternly.
“I won’t laugh!” you chuckle, giving his shoulder a shove.
He just sighs, gently directing you off his lap to go bounding up the stairs of his massive house. What you didn’t expect was for him to return with a book in his hands, one titled The Ladies Man’s Ultimate Guide to Female Pleasure. God, please, you needed a divine intervention not to let out a giggle right now. You noticed the many pages that were haphazardly dog-eared to be marked. He’d probably studied that thing more than any textbook he’d ever received in school. The most you could do to suppress your smile was bite the inside of your mouth as he stood there silently, flicking through various pages.
“I can feel you smirking,” he mutters flatly, eyes still on the book.
“No, no… just… didn’t know you read in your spare time,” you tease, your smile widening, “Where’d you even get that?”
He just sighs, glancing up at you with narrowed eyes before returning to his search. You can tell you’ve ruffled his feathers.
“Okay, you should be thanking me for caring so much–aha!” he shouts suddenly, jabbing his finger at the page with widened eyes, “‘Chapter 17: making your lady lover into a fountain’, I knew it was in here.”
“A fountain?” you repeat, unimpressed.
“Shush! I’m reading, I’m reading,” he mumbles, raising a hand for you to wait. You watch as his eyes flicker over the book, intently absorbing all there is to know about female ejaculation.
“Okay, so… it’s not possible for everyone, but it feels really fucking good if you can, blah, blah, blah, no problem,” he gracefully summarizes, strolling over to sit next to you on the sofa.
You raise your eyebrows as Steve skims through the disclaimer, much more confident than you are that you’re a part of the percentage of women who are capable of such a thing. He runs his hand through his perfectly styled hair once, twice, three times. You watch him read, tapping your foot as you wait for him to loop you in.
“Uh-huh, so, the key is relaxation and stimulation,” Steve continues, pausing to shoot you a smirk, waggling his eyebrows at you.
“Okay, what else?” you laugh softly, shaking your head at him.
“Uhh. G-spot. All about the G-spot. Using a ‘come hither’ motion with your fingers,” he grins, clearly amused by the phrase as he continues to loosely read the instructions. “Good thing I know how to do that already. That’s, like, fingering 101,” he scoffs.
You just sigh, too tired to be dealing with him right now. His confidence can only be described as reckless. You wish you could say that it doesn’t make something simmer inside you every time cocky words spill from his lips, but that just wouldn’t be true. You almost say something sassy, but the sentence dies on your tongue as his hands slowly smooth up your sides. Instead, what comes out is:
“Where are we doing this?”
Steve smiles stupidly. He knows he’s won you over.
“My room. Obviously.”
With that, he stands up again, stretching before pulling you to your feet. You chew on your bottom lip as he leads you up to his room by your hand, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your wrist the whole way.
Your eyes wander through his house, and you feel as though you notice something new every time you’re here. Which is funny, considering that you’re here very often, but the Harringtons own a lot of useless, expensive decor.
“Steve, I don’t want to ruin your sheets,” you say, making him turn back towards you, stopping in the doorway.
He looks down at you with a huff of disbelief, his hands resting on your waist reassuringly.
“Who cares? They’re just sheets,” he says, inching closer to you.
Yes… but they’re nice sheets, in a nice house. You think he forgets sometimes that his home is equivalent to a castle in Hawkins. You try to appeal to his reasonable side, the side that doesn’t want to do an extra load of laundry.
“Can we at least put a towel down?”
He thinks for a moment before nodding slowly, his expression shifting as he becomes receptive to the idea.
“Deal,” he says, squeezing your sides before quickly rushing to grab a dark blue towel from his bathroom.
He slides past you, his mind clearly whirring as he spreads it out on top of his sheets like a blanket. Steve crosses his arms, admiring his own handiwork. Sometimes, you feel like you’d do anything to know what goes on in that head of his.
“Good? Yeah?” he asks, reaching out a hand to you as you watch him from the doorway.
You smile, padding over to him and taking his hand, making him hum affectionately. He intertwines his fingers neatly with yours before pressing his face against your neck, taking a deep inhale of your perfume.
“What would I do without you thinking of these things?” he whispers, beginning to press soft kisses to your skin, signs of his gratitude that he could never fully express with words.
“You’d be lost. Very lost,” you tease.
“Isn’t that the truth?” he murmurs against your skin, brushing his lips from the base of your neck all the way up to your ear.
Every graze of his lips and brush of his fingertips has your skin tingling, the sensations heightened by the excitement of knowing what’s planned. Steve’s hands move sensually, mapping out your back until he’s cupping your backside, pulling you flush against him. He squeezes slowly, like he’s savoring the feel of you.
“Mmm… I love you,” you whisper, your head tipping back with a contented sigh, fingers knotted in his tresses.
“Tell me again,” he mumbles, his voice muffled against your throat.
Your smile only widens, grinning up at the ceiling as he peppers kisses to your neck and jaw. Your hands find his shoulders, holding onto him like he’s the only thing keeping you from simply floating away.
“Love you. I love you, Steve,” you whisper back without a trace of hesitation, your voice laced with a devotion that you couldn’t keep inside if you tried.
He sighs against your neck, his warm breath fanning over your skin. Steve’s heart flutters at the ease of your declaration, pulling away just enough to peer into your gentle eyes.
“I love you too, so fucking much,” he replies hastily, leaning in to capture your lips with his.
He kisses you slowly, your chest swelling with warmth as you begin to blindly find your way backwards towards his bed, hands roaming and grasping at whatever they can reach, almost frantically. The lip lock is only broken for a moment so Steve can delicately guide you onto the bed, his hands gentle as he arranges you just so.
He settles his weight on top of you, looking quite smitten as he carefully ensures that your hair is out of the way and won’t accidentally get tugged on.
“You’re everything to me, you know that?” he murmurs sincerely. Your heart does something funny in your chest.
“You’re getting all sappy on me. I thought you were all focused on the squirting thing,” you joke, gazing up at him with affection.
Steve rolls his eyes good-naturedly, reaching to take your hand in his before pressing a kiss to your palm almost reverently. His warm, brown eyes crinkle at the corners with happiness, like he’s never been so in love.
“And we’ll get to that, don’t you worry, beautiful. Weren’t you just saying that it’s not real?” he says, tilting his head with mock curiosity.
“Shut up. I’m… a bit more optimistic,” you beam, stroking your thumb back and forth over his face, admiring each little feature of his. You could spend hours mentally connecting his beauty marks into constellations.
“Optimistic? Well, I’ll do my best to make a believer out of you yet,” he vows, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips.
It feels ironic, having him preach to you, but, on second thought, it’s fairly on brand for him, considering what exactly he’s trying to convince you of. If Steve Harrington believed in anything, it was his ability to satisfy his girl.
“Mm. If anyone can do it, it’s you,” you purr silkily against his lips.
“Yeah, I know. Lose this for me,” he says, his voice getting huskier as he tugs at the hem of your shirt almost greedily.
You hum in agreement, not wanting to wait another second to have his hands on your bare skin. You slowly sit up and pull your top off your body, revealing your lacy bra that perfectly envelopes your breasts. Steve sucks in a breath, taking a moment to just admire you, his eyes becoming lidded with want. He always reacts like it’s a privilege, like he’s seeing you topless for the first time every time your shirt is off. You watch as he leans forward, breathing slowly as he presses a kiss to your sternum, just between your breasts as they rise and fall with heavy breaths. Your heart stutters in your chest.
“Jesus christ,” he murmurs against your skin, his hands moving to cup your tits through your bra, feeling their weight.
He looks up at you with a pretty smile, his features framed by your hands as you hold his face. You love it when he gets this soft. You like to think that it’s reserved only for you.
“You have the most perfect fucking tits,” Steve mutters, his thumbs brushing over your hardening nipples through the fabric. Your lashes flutter at the feeling, letting out a relaxed sigh. He reminds you of what he thinks about your tits fairly often, but your body always reacts just the same when he says it.
Steve doesn’t just touch you, he caresses you. His touch feels like adding wood to an already smoldering fire. He doesn’t waste another second to reach back and unhook your bra with skilled fingers, the garment discarded in what must be record time for him.
“God,” he breathes admiringly, showering your newly exposed skin with soft kisses.
You keep one hand at the back of Steve’s head, gently tugging at his hair just to hear him groan. His hands roam your stomach and sides possessively, letting you feel his growing restlessness in the way he grasps at you.
Then, he looks up at you, his eyes glazed with lust as he envelops the peak of one of your breasts with his lips. You moan softly, breathlessly as he begins to worship each of your tits equally with his eager mouth, your nails scratching over his scalp as you watch him work. You’re entranced by him, enthralled by his knowledge of your body and how to touch you (maybe partially thanks to that stupid book). His attentive touch never falters, and neither does his intense eye contact as he sucks and licks and squeezes. Your hips can’t help but squirm without your permission, unable to keep still while he rolls your hardened nipples with his thumbs.
You’re getting hot. Really, really hot. The kind of hot that makes your skin prickle all over.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, rendering you unable to respond as he latches onto your nipple again, his hot tongue swirling around the bud, teasing lightly with his teeth.
He pulls away to admire your flushed state, an eager glint in his eyes. One of his hands trails from your side down to the waistband of your shorts, his touch feather-light. The action alone causes a pang so strong inside of you that you have to resist squeezing your thighs together.
“I bet… that you’re soaked already,” he drawls, like he’s willing to wager money on it. You just smile hazily as he reaches down into your shorts and under your panties, your hips giving an uninhibited jolt. You don’t bother to refute him, knowing exactly what he’ll find.
You kiss him hard and deep, spreading your legs for him, welcoming him to inflate his own ego at the state of your underwear. Steve groans against your lips when his fingers touch the arousal that’s pooled between your legs. The moment he makes contact between your thighs, your back arches, curving just for him.
“Fuck,” he utters, sliding two fingers over your slick entrance, “I win.”
“I never said I wasn’t,” you smile, your breath shuddering at the feeling of his digits.
Steve chuckles, breaking the kiss to trail open-mouthed kisses all over your neck. He’s sloppy yet practiced with his lips, the wet sounds making you swallow thickly.
“Clearly. You’re always like this around me,” he says proudly.
You gasp, faux offended at his claim. You had to at least pretend not to be irrevocably whipped for him.
“I am not always wet around you!” you insist breathlessly, smiling up at the ceiling with your cheeks tinted bright pink. It’s not a strong argument with that look on your face, that’s for damn sure.
Steve pulls away just enough to look at you, a smirk pulling at his lips. So goddamn annoying. You already know he’s going to say something pompous.
“Oh, really? Then what do you call this, then?” he asks, withdrawing his fingers from your shorts to hold them up to you, flexing them to make them glint and shine with your arousal under the low lighting. He brings his fingers to his mouth, sparing you no obscene sound as he sucks them clean. “You get wet just looking at me, forget me touching you.”
You shake your head at him, shifting slightly on the bed as you try to control your raging neediness at the sight of him licking his fingers clean of you. It’s filthy. He’s filthy.
“You were touching my boobs,” you protest weakly, frowning at him.
“Yeah, and that’s all it took. Now you’re dripping,” he mutters, reaching to ruffle your hair, “You’re so easy.”
“You’re so mean,” you shoot back, unable to suppress a fond grin as he musses your hair. You lean in to peck his lips, Steve instantly responding with a deeper, more insistent one. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip.
“You love it though,” he sighs, his lips slotting against yours.
His hands tangle into your hair, his kisses making you dizzy in a way that only he ever could. You moan contentedly against his mouth, drawing him in like you just can’t have him close enough. You couldn’t be satisfied until your very souls touched. But… having him on top of you is pretty good too.
More clothes are carelessly shed as passionate kisses are exchanged, more breathy words spoken against eager lips. He’s all over you in the best possible way, his bare chest against yours, his oxygen becoming your own. All you can feel is his touch and the simmering heat that it leaves behind. You kiss until he’s stolen all the air from your lungs, forcing you to pull away with a gasp.
His eyes soften as soon as they meet yours, his hand moving to gently brush your face. He presses a chaste kiss to your swollen, pink lips before pulling back just enough, still allowing you to feel his breath fan on your face. Your whole body feels like it’s buzzing with a low current of electricity as his forehead rests against yours.
“You make me crazy,” he purrs, his heated gaze lingering on your face.
You’re panting as his thumb strokes back and forth over your cheek, desperately grasping his wrist like you need him (which you do). He allows his hand to dip lower, his thumb pressing against your swollen, plush bottom lip, watching as your mouth instantly opens for him.
“God, please touch me, baby,” you whisper hazily, any sense of your restraint and pride having been melted away ages ago. Maybe it’s wrong, but you don’t mind acting helpless when it comes to him.
You watch as Steve reacts to your wanton request, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a thick swallow. Slowly, his grip slides to your jaw, holding it as his eyes bore into yours, pupils still blown wide from the lust. His voice is low, yet warm as he speaks to you.
“You’re begging me already, sweetheart? Where do you need me to touch you, huh?”
You whine, hating when he pretends not to know what you need just to make you squirm. You’d grab his hand and put it exactly where you wanted it, if that wouldn’t just get you in trouble. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you gather the strength to spit the words out.
“Between my legs,” you mutter tentatively, glancing away from him as your cheeks prickle with warmth.
You can’t bring yourself to watch the way his smirk widens, knowing your heart may give out if you do. You don’t have to look at him to feel how pleased he is. It’s practically radiating off of him, the pride of a champion.
“Yeah? Want me to touch your pussy? Make you squirt all over my bed?” he drawls, making you throb almost embarrassingly hard between your legs with just his dirty mouth.
“Fuck. Yeah,” you shudder, leaning into the hand at your jaw mindlessly, aware of how each of his fingers presses into your cheek.
“Good girl.”
Your eyes widen with disappointment as his grip loosens on your jaw, only to feel his hand slide down your neck and around your throat, applying just the slightest bit of pressure as he slinks around behind you, pulling you to sit between his legs. The light pressure makes your hips twitch against his, your eyes rolling back with a pant.
“Look at me,” he directs softly, spreading your legs open wider. His mixture of gentleness and possessiveness is a heady one, one perfectly concocted to make you too aroused to think.
Your eyes snap open at the feeling of Steve’s hand snaking down your body to rub at your clit in practiced circles with his thumb, craning your neck to look back at your boyfriend. He silences your gasp with a soothing kiss as you feel a familiar wave of heat wash over you at the first lick of relief you’re offered. The sound of his name sinfully leaving your lips between kisses makes his hand tighten around your throat just slightly. It’s a barely noticeable difference, but it makes your head spin just the same.
“You like that, baby?” He asks, already knowing the answer. At your hasty nod, he continues to draw out breathy sounds from you. He maintains his pace, tracing rhythmic circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves, your back pressed to his torso. “Yeah… yeah, I know. You make such pretty faces when I’m touching you.”
The pleasure thrums through you, your lashes fluttering as he masterfully builds up the sensations flooding your body. You take a sharp inhale as you feel two of his long fingers teasing at your slit, massaging around it before beginning to slide inside of you. He moves methodically, curling and scissoring his fingers with purpose, pressing against that spot that makes your legs twitch again and again. The sound alone of him slowly fucking you with his fingers makes your face feel hot, but the sight is even more salacious. You risk a glance downward, your stomach fluttering as you watch his digits sliding in and out of you.
You’re clawing at him now, your nails biting into his thighs, his arms, anything that you can sink yourself into. You feel Steve’s thumb gently rubbing over your pulse point at your neck, feeling it flutter with every thrust of his fingers. He continues to mutter to you. Words sweet enough to make your chest feel full and dirty enough to crush the air from your lungs. He leans into you, speaking against your flushed cheek, sighs of “baby” and strings of swear words, spilling from his lips without much thought.
You can’t help but relish in the groan that escapes him when your hips rock between his hand and his crotch, pushing your ass against his hardening cock. Grinning, your head tilts back to rest against his shoulder, letting your body move uninhibitedly. You’re obscenely wet now, practically dripping for him.
“Fuck yeah, that’s it. Keep doing that, grind on me,” he whispers, kissing your cheek tenderly, “Just relax and trust me.”
It is a bit of an exercise of trust, allowing your body to fully relax, knowing exactly what Steve is so determined to do to you. The pressure to perform lingers in your mind, distracting you from what really matters: feeling good. You take deep breaths, focusing on everything that you can feel right at this moment. You can feel two of Steve’s fingers diligently pumping in and out of your velvety walls. You feel his breath on your skin, his hand tenderly resting around your throat. And his thumb, his talented thumb, is still working your swollen bundle of nerves. You feel his chest rising and falling against your back, the rhythm uneven and shuddering. And you feel– oh.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” you whimper, panting as the white hot tension coils tighter inside of you, threatening to snap.
He bites at your shoulder, clearly invigorated by your warning. Steve begins to work harder, his fingers rubbing faster, curling deeper, anything to send you over the edge so intensely that you can’t help but completely fall apart.
“Let it happen, c’mon, give it to me,” he demands, placing a searing kiss over the mark he’d so lovingly left on you.
You let out a whine as the pleasure washes over you in warm waves, guiding the rolling of your hips. You feel yourself pulsating, your walls clamping down around Steve’s unrelenting fingers. Your breath wavers with your drawn-out moans of satisfaction, your eyes squeezing shut tightly. It’s good, it’s so good.
But when your eyes hazily flutter open again, you find the bath towel under you completely dry. A sense of disappointment settles in your gut. Up until a few hours ago, you hadn’t even considered the possibility of coming so hard, of experiencing pleasure so explosively. But now, you have to admit that you’d gotten a bit attached to the idea. You sigh softly, catching your breath as you are slowly brought back down to earth, unable to help but feel a bit let down.
Steve is quiet behind you, carefully withdrawing his fingers to stroke along your inner thigh, his other arm dropping to wrap around your middle. You feel him lean down to tenderly kiss your shoulder, the only sound in the room being both of your heavy breathing.
“Hey, it’s alright. You felt really good, and you looked gorgeous doing it,” he murmurs reassuringly, “That’s all that matters. Don’t stress.”
You let out a deep breath, watching his hand lovingly rub back and forth over the soft skin of your inner thigh, trying to soothe any possible thoughts of underperforming. You know Steve would hate for you to feel like you’d let him down in some way. He’d spend hours making sure you knew just how much he appreciates you exactly as you are if you even uttered a mention of it to him.
“I know. Just… got excited,” you admit, your voice sounding deflated.
He hums softly, giving your thigh a soft squeeze. Steve tucks some of your hair behind your ear before drawing you in to kiss you deeply, already sparking something warm inside of you again. You could practically feel his determination becoming reinvigorated as he kisses you harder.
“Then let me try again. Please, baby,” he murmurs against your lips, his trembling hand curling into your hair urgently, “I don’t wanna stop till you soak my bed. I-I’m– I’m so fucking hard just thinking about it.”
Your breath catches in your throat at his relentless motivation, blindly reaching for his shoulders as he kisses you senseless. Your breathless swear is swallowed by his mouth as he reduces you to a malleable putty in his hands. How could you not let him do anything he wants?
“Shit, okay,” you pant.
Steve nips your bottom lip, pulling it with his teeth until it pops back into place. The satisfaction is plastered all over his pretty face as his lidded eyes flicker over you.
“There’s my girl. I wanna take care of you. Let me.”
Your boyfriend’s hands are on you again in the blink of an eye, grazing the tips of his fingers teasingly along your inner thigh, his other hand kneading at one of your breasts. He mouths hotly over your skin, sucking a mark right where your neck meets your shoulder that you’re sure will bruise. He thumbs over your nipple, giving it a pinch, a little spark of pain that makes you shudder. You feel like you’re choking on anticipation as his hand gets so close to where you’re already throbbing again. You know he can hear you panting, feel the need consuming you from the inside out.
Finally, he presses multiple fingers over your clit, the stimulation feeling like a flood of relief through your body. He only uses that method when he’s trying to make you lose your mind. Steve moves them in tight circles right over where you’re still so sensitive from just coming. Your chest heaves as you cry out for him, the sound making him groan into your neck. It’s like your pleasure is his own with the way he reacts to your every expression, every moan that slips from you.
You feel Steve’s other hand push your legs open wider, bending them at the knees so he can reach down between them. Effortlessly, he uses his other hand to slide two of his fingers into you, pumping and curling faster than before. He angles them exactly right, hitting the perfect spot inside of you every time. His breathing is ragged with pure determination, wanting to make you see fucking stars this time.
You yelp his name, your body giving a jolt as he presses down hard on your clit, stimulating unrelentingly with the wide surface of his fingers on your pussy. Your walls flutter around Steve’s digits as you only get louder, much to his delight. You feel him grinding his thick bulge against your ass, needing some relief from the pressure in his briefs.
“God, yes,” he nearly growls, somehow working his fingers faster in and out of you. The sound is absolutely obscene. It’s overwhelming, your head barely feels attached to your body while you creep closer to your climax.
Your eyes snap open as you feel a foreign sensation, one that’s different than your body’s usual signal of you getting closer to release. It’s an urgent sort of pressure gathering deep inside of you, the tension only ballooning as Steve finger fucks you dumb. You grab one of his wrists tightly, trying to breathe through the feeling and resist your brain’s warning of an impending mess.
“I feel it,” you shudder, making Steve perk up behind you, his cock giving a twitch against your backside, “Fuck. Kiss me.”
“Shit,” he breathes, nearly vibrating with excitement, “Yeah, baby. Just let go.”
You turn your head, and his lips crush against yours instantly, the kiss a frantic clash of teeth and tongues, but fuck, it’s hot. Your eyes roll back with a drawn-out moan against his mouth as you feel a deep sense of release, one to your very bones. A sort of burst happens within you that has your spine tingling. The intensity of the orgasm makes your toes curl, the pleasure wracking your body in thunderous waves as you gush against Steve’s hand. It’s more powerful than anything you’ve ever experienced in your life, and you’re completely at the mercy of it.
You hear Steve groan deeply, breaking the sloppy kiss to watch the last of your warm release drip down his palm. You’re surprised that he doesn’t cream his briefs with how insistently his dick is throbbing against your ass.
He continues to work you through your climax until he knows you’ve had enough, your body practically thrashing, a clear sign of nearing overstimulation. You’re left feeling completely boneless and weighed down to the bed, a faint throb continuing between your trembling legs as you try and find some semblance of a coherent thought. You feel Steve delicately withdraw his drenched fingers from you, soothingly stroking across your cunt.
“Holy fucking shit. That was awesome,” he whispers with a shocked laugh that sounds like his world has just been opened up entirely.
You smile weakly, your lashes fluttering as you open your eyes, your vision slowly coming into focus again. Hesitantly, you allow your gaze to wander downwards as Steve pulls his hand away, now wrapping both his arms strongly around your body. You bite your lip at the sight of the aftermath of your pleasure, the deep blue bath towel sporting a sizable damp spot. You did that… Steve did that.
“Oh my god,” you mumble, your chest still heaving with your heavy breaths.
“Yeah, right?” he grins, kissing your neck with a deep, appreciative inhale through his nose, “That’s all you, babe. You okay?”
It’s hard to fathom, but yes, in the sanctity of his bedroom, he’d made a believer out of you after all.
“Yeah. Jesus christ,” you mutter, running a hand through your sweat-dampened hair with disbelief, “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
“Mhm,” he hums warmly, kissing your temple with a pleased little smile on his lips, “Best orgasm of your life, maybe?”
“Must be. And I’m glad we did that… for science,” you whisper breathlessly, making Steve chuckle.
He leans down so his lips brush against your earlobe, barely a kiss, but just enough to make you shiver. You can feel his heartbeat pounding against your back as he holds you securely in his arms, a steady reminder that this wasn’t a dream.
“For science,” he whispers.
————————————————
P.S this is sort of frankensteined from a dif fic of mine, if for some reason you recognize bits of it haha
I was wondering if you could do a story where reader is Darrys gf (and they've been dating for a bit) and one night, it's really busy at the Curtis house and everyone's over (pure, lovable chaos), Darry's making dinner and reader is helping Ponyboy with his homework. In the middle of all this chaos, Pony accidentally calls reader "mom" while she's helping him, like: "thanks, mom" just super instinctively, and everyone hears it and fill in the blanks from there...??🙂
Sorry, this is super long, lol😅
────۶ৎ "thanks, mom"
a chaotic evening ends up in a heartwarming revelation<33
warnings : swearing ig
ᐟᐟ ⟢ a/n: AHHHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS SO CUTEEE thanks for requesting anon and don't worry at all! the lenghty and in detail the request, the better!
It was a night.
Not just any night—a Curtis House Night, the kind where every light’s on, the record player’s fighting the TV for dominance, the couch is half a dogpile, and you could swear the walls are held up with duct tape.
You and Darry had been together for a while now. Long enough for his toothbrush to live at your place and for your perfume to linger in his truck. You had been going steady for a few months already. But tonight? Tonight was anything but steady.
The door had been swinging open since six.
First it was Sodapop with Two-Bit right behind, laughing over something stupid. Then Steve rolled in, hungry as a bear. Dallas showed up like he owned the place, and Johnny had slipped in quieter than the rest, sticking to Dally's side like a shadow.
And Ponyboy? Poor thing was sitting at the kitchen table, hair a mess, pencil tapping against his temple like the numbers on his worksheet had personally offended him.
You leaned over him with a gentle smile, your arms braced on the table, your perfume mixing with the scent of Darry’s cooking.
“Okay, Pony, remember what I told you, start by finding the lowest common denominator.”
He sighed, brows furrowed. “Ugh. This is hopeless.”
You chuckled and ruffled his hair. “It’s fractions, not the end of the world.”
Behind you, Darry was manning the stove, sleeves rolled up, brow glistening. You could hear him humming under his breath, spatula in hand, the smell of frying onions and ground beef filling the air. He kept glancing over at you and Pony, like the sight of you two made the ache in his chest soften just a little.
The rest of the gang was scattered. Soda was trying to teach Steve how to moonwalk in socks. Dallas was making a pyramid out of beer caps. Two-Bit was definitely stealing raw cookie dough from the fridge. Johnny was sketching something on a napkin with his thumb smudged in pencil lead.
You leaned a little closer to Pony’s paper, voice warm and soft.
“Here, like this—see? Multiply both sides by four and it cancels out.”
Pony looked up at you with wide, understanding eyes, his face lighting up like a match.
“Ohh. Thanks, Mom.”
Silence.
It hit the room like a dropped record needle. A full beat of stunned, dead air.
And then—
“MOM?!” Two-Bit shrieked, bursting into howls of laughter, nearly wiping out on the floor.
Dallas choked on his soda, Steve dropped his moonwalk mid-slide, and Soda straight-up fell off the arm of the couch from surprise.
Johnny was smiling shyly, chuckling behind his hand like he’d been thinking the same thing.
Darry turned slowly from the stove, spatula frozen in hand, eyes wide. “Wait—did he just…?”
Ponyboy turned bright red, face buried in his hands. “Oh my god, no-I didn’t mean to! It just-it slipped!”
You blinked, then slowly smiled, warmth rising to your cheeks. “Well… I am helping with homework.”
“Mom,” Steve repeated, shaking his head, “Pony just put a ring on your finger and didn't even ask Darry.”
Two-Bit was halfway into a laughing fit, pointing dramatically. “Y’all hear that?! She’s got Pony doing his math and saying thank you, and she got Darry cookin' dinner like it’s 1956. That ain’t a girlfriend, that’s a matriarch.”
Soda was fanning himself. “Next thing you know, she’s packin’ lunches and tucking us in at night.”
“Please do,” Johnny muttered with a grin. “Your lunches would probably taste better than Darry’s leftovers.”
Darry finally broke into a laugh, setting the spatula down and wiping his hands on a towel. He walked over to you, wrapped an arm around your waist, and kissed your temple in front of everybody.
“She’s already the mom of this circus,” he said, smirking. “Might as well make it official.”
You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Oh please.”
But Pony was still hiding his face. “I’m so embarrassed,” he groaned into his elbow.
You leaned over, pulled his arm down gently, and kissed the top of his head. “Don’t be, sweetheart. It was the nicest thing you could’ve said.”
His cheeks were still pink, but he smiled—and he didn’t pull away when you gave his hair one last fond tousle.
From that moment on, it was over.
Every time you passed someone a soda: “Thanks, Mom.”
When you bandaged up Johnny’s skinned elbow: “Thanks, Ma.”
If you opened the fridge: “What’s for dinner, Mom?”
Darry just stood in the middle of it all, grinning like the luckiest fool on earth, arms crossed as he watched you handle his house like you’d always belonged there.
MEET ME IN THE AFTERGLOW — oscar piastri x bsf!fem!reader.
summary: YN has always been Oscar Piastri’s constant — his best friend, his safe place, the one feeling he never questioned.
To the world, they look like more. To him, it’s something he refuses to name.
When rumors grow too loud, Oscar says the wrong thing out loud, and what was meant to end the noise becomes the fracture that leaves her standing in the aftermath — loving him quietly, while he realizes too late that some words can’t be taken back.
ephie's radio: hiii, this is just a silly little story that lived in my head for a while. english isn’t my first language, and i’ve never written anything like this before, so it might be messy, confusing, or imperfect — but it’s mine. nothing here is real, everything is fictional, and any resemblance is purely coincidence. thank you for reading anyway, for being kind, and for staying until the end. it really means more than you know.
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♥︎ liked by olliebearman, oscarpiastri and 25,671 others.
yourusername: thank you God for blessing me with a millionaire friend 🙏🏻🙏🏻 (yes, I’m talking about Oscar)
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oscarpiastri: this account should actually be mine because you’re my biggest fan
yourusername: keep dreaming
oscarpiastri: about you :)
yourusername: 🙄
fan01: OMG THEY’RE FLIRTING AGAIN
fan02: “about you :)”????? OSCAR?????
fan03: nah this is NOT how best friends talk
fan04: they’re either dating or lying to themselves
fan05: the way he didn’t hesitate… suspicious
fan06: yn rolling her eyes like she didn’t blush irl
fan07: if my “friend” said that to me I’d fold immediately
fan08: Oscar Piastri please stand up and explain yourself
fan09: they say they’re just friends but the vibes say otherwise
fan10: this is exactly how every friends-to-lovers story starts
fan11: the smiley face was personal btw
pilargzc: you look so beautiful 🤩
yourusername: 🩷🩷
alexandrasaintmleux: we miss you in the paddock :(
yourusername: I MISS YOU MY LOVE 😪😪🤍🤍
rebeccadonaldson: drooling over you, baby 🤤🤤🤤
yourusername: 😳😳😳
camcammi: the semester is absolutely destroying us and you still look gorgeous
yourusername: love u, camii 🤍
—
oscarpiastri
♥︎ liked by charles_leclerc, lando and 561,891 others.
oscarpiastri: thanks everyone for the birthday wishes 👍
view all comments
yourusername: ugh, you look ugly
oscarpiastri: shut up, you love me
yourusername: no comments...
oscarpiastri: 🙂↕️
fan01: EXCUSE ME WHY IS THE LAST PIC A HUG
fan02: nah that hug is doing things to me
fan03: friends don’t hug like that btw
fan04: i refuse to believe this is platonic
lando: happy birthday mate 🎉
charles_leclerc: happy birthday, son!!
fan05: okay but yn hugging him like she belongs there
fan06: the hand placement?? i’m unwell
fan07: they didn’t even try to hide it
fan08: calling it now, soft launch
fan09: they’re either in love or about to break our hearts
—
yourusername
♥︎ liked by oscarpiastri, pietra.pilao and 181,901 others.
yourusername: happy birthday to my (probably) soulmate!! you know I’ve loved you with my whole heart since we were little. thank you for walking beside me all these years. oscarpiastri 🤍🤍
view all comments
oscarpiastri: thank you so much, yn
oscarpiastri: I love you with my entire being, pretty 🤍
oscarpiastri: you’re the only woman I need to be happy :)
fan01: THE ONLY WOMAN HE NEEDS????????
fan05: someone get Oscar a PR team IMMEDIATELY
fan02: yeah no this is not best friends behavior
fan03: soulmate in the caption and THIS in the comments????
fan04: I just witnessed a love confession
fan06: “since we were little” friends-to-lovers final boss
fan07: i’m actually shaking
fan08: the childhood pic vs now??? cinematic parallels
fan09: if they’re not dating then love is fake
fan10: this is the softest hard launch i’ve ever seen
alexandrasaintmleux: this is so sweet 🥹🤍
fan11: alex approved = it’s serious
georgerussell63: interesting choice of words 👀
carlossainz55: so… when’s the wedding?
alex_albon: this explains a lot actually
fan13: EXPLAINS WHAT ALEX
carmenmmundt: this is adorable, stop it
fan12: paddock already knows something we don’t
fan14: everyone around them acting like this is normal???
—
—
Monaco. April 8, 2025.
Instagram story of rebeccadonaldson, alexandrasaintmleux and yourusername.
—
The party was impossible to ignore.
Everyone knew it — the kind of night Monaco talks about for weeks. Familiar faces everywhere, laughter spilling out onto the street, music pulsing through the walls of the club YN had somehow turned into something electric. It was too much in the best way.
Oscar had always hated parties. The noise, the crowds, the way everything felt slightly out of control. But that night, he didn’t mind. Not when he could spot YN across the room so easily — glowing, effortless, moving from group to group with a smile that looked like it belonged there. Watching her laugh, watching her exist so freely in a space he never quite fit into, made something in his chest soften. If this was what she loved, he could love it too.
Time blurred the way it always does after midnight. Glasses refilled without anyone noticing, conversations grew louder and looser, the music slower, heavier. By the time the early hours crept in, the air inside felt thick — warm with bodies, alcohol, and unspoken things.
They slipped out quietly, escaping the noise for the cool Monaco night. The city breathed around them, distant and calm, a sharp contrast to the chaos they’d left behind. Neither of them spoke at first. They didn’t need to.
Standing there, close enough to feel each other’s presence, it felt easier to forget everything else — the rumors, the lines they never crossed, the careful way they usually spoke around each other. A laugh turned softer. A glance lingered too long. One step closer became impossible to undo.
The kiss wasn’t planned. It wasn’t dramatic. It just… happened. Like something that had been waiting long enough finally gave in.
They didn’t see the shadows nearby. Didn’t notice the quiet click of a camera, or the figures half-hidden behind parked cars and corners of stone. In that moment, there was only the night, the city, and the mistake neither of them realized they were making.
—
Monaco. April 9, 2025. 1:30 pm.
deuxmoi
♥︎ liked by user01, paddockprincess and 345,610 others.
deuxmoi: Best friends, they said. YN YL and Oscar Piastri kissing outside a club in Monaco, where the McLaren driver’s birthday party took place. Thoughts? let us know.
view all comments
fan01: I KNEW IT
fan02: BLURRY BUT LOUD
fan03: that’s literally him idc what anyone says
fan04: best friends don’t kiss outside clubs at 3am
fan05: the way this was the same party SHE planned???
fan06: remember when he said they were just friends
fan07: yeah… about that
fan08: this is either a soft launch or a disaster
fan09: zoomed in and convinced myself it’s them
fan10: Monaco streets never miss
fan11: they’ve been acting married for months
fan12: if this is fake then the chemistry deserves an Oscar
fan13: PR teams working overtime tonight
fan14: deleting my “they’re just friends” tweet rn
fan15: I give it 24 hours before this is everywhere
fan16: blurry pics are always the real ones btw
fan17: this feels too intimate to be staged
fan18: calling it now
fan19: nah because the BODY LANGUAGE???
fan20: you don’t accidentally kiss your “best friend” like that
fan21: this explains literally EVERYTHING
fan22: remember when he commented “only woman i need” yeah…
fan23: i feel sick but in a good way
fan24: if this is friends then i’ve never had one
fan25: monaco after midnight always exposes secrets
fan26: PR teams punching the air rn
fan27: she planned the party, she missed his birthday and THIS happens. Cinema.
fan28: i swear you can see her hand on his neck
fan29: they’re too comfortable for this to be new
fan30: this wasn’t a drunk mistake, this was years loading
fan31: if he denies this i will lose my mind
—
Monaco. April 9, 2025. 13:30 hrs.
—
April 13, 2025.
♥︎ liked by user81, deuxmoi and 730.280 others.
tmz: Oscar Piastri is finally addressing the question everyone’s been asking.
Following the Bahrain Grand Prix, the McLaren driver was asked about the viral photo showing him kissing his longtime best friend, YN YL, outside a Monaco club earlier this month.
“YN? She’s just my best friend. There’s nothing romantic there. The kiss didn’t mean anything — it was just two adults who had too much to drink, and people are reading way too much into it. It’s honestly not that deep.”
The comment quickly spread online, with many fans criticizing the driver for downplaying the moment — and seemingly dismissing YN entirely.
view all comments
fan01: “it’s not that deep” OH MY GOD
fan02: he threw her under the bus and reversed
fan03: JUST my best friend???
fan04: imagine hearing this about yourself on TMZ
fan05: the way he minimized EVERYTHING
fan06: soulmate caption aged like milk
fan07: “people are reading too much into it” sir YOU posted the comments
fan08: this feels cruel actually
fan09: he could’ve protected her and chose not to
fan10: saying it meant nothing is one thing, saying it’s “not that deep” is worse
fan11: she’s getting dragged and he’s acting unbothered
fan12: best friend of YEARS and this is how you talk about her?
fan13: this is damage control at her expense
fan14: PR answer but zero empathy
fan15: if my best friend said this about me i’d be destroyed
fan16: he didn’t even say her name kindly
fan17: this feels like the exact moment he loses her
fan18: she deserves so much better than this
fan19: this is the kind of comment you regret forever
fan20: “just my best friend” is such a violent sentence actually
fan21: this is how you lose someone forever
fan22: not him acting like she’s some random girl
fan23: she planned his party she supported him for years and THIS is how he talks about her???
fan24: saying “it meant nothing” publicly is so disrespectful
fan25: you can deny rumors without invalidating a person btw
fan26: this is such a PR-coded answer and it sucks
fan27: she’s the one getting dragged while he shrugs
fan28: i hope she never speaks to him again
—
—
oscarpiastri
♥︎ liked by mclaren, f1, lando and 564,910 others.
oscarpiastri: fun weekend.
view all comments
mclaren: P1 in Jeddah 👏 outstanding drive
fan01: FUN WEEKEND??? YOU WON
f1: Oscar Piastri takes the win in Saudi Arabia 🇸🇦
saudiarabiangp: Congratulations on an incredible victory 🏆✨
fan03: JEDDAH LOVED HIM
lando: not bad i guess
georgerussell63: mega drive 👏
carlossainz55: very solid weekend 👍
charles_leclerc: well done 👏
alex_albon: seriously impressive
fan04: quiet king
fan05: he wins races like it’s nothing
fan06: “fun weekend” while delivering a masterclass
fan07: crazy how he looks calm after THAT drive
fan08: winning while his personal life is on fire is wild
fan09: men will win races instead of communicating
fan10: success doesn’t fix everything
fan11: championship mentality right there
fan12: wait… does yn not follow him anymore?
fan13: just checked. she unfollowed
fan14: oh that’s LOUD
fan15: she didn’t like the post either
fan16: she used to like EVERYTHING
fan17: “it didn’t mean anything” and now she’s gone. actions, meet consequences
fan18: winning races but losing your best friend is crazy
fan19: the unfollow hurt more than the kiss
fan20: she stayed silent while he talked, now she’s gone and he’s posting “fun weekend”
fan21: she planned his birthday party btw, never forget
fan22: yn removing herself quietly is very her
fan23: no statement, no drama, just distance
fan24: the interview ruined everything
fan25: unfollowing your best friend of years is not impulsive, that’s a decision
fan26: she chose peace
fan27: he chose PR
fan28: watch him regret this forever
Unfollow oscarpiastri? Accept
—
yourusername
🎵 Manchild – Sabrina Carpenter
♥︎ liked by lewishamilton, tatemcrae and 234,518 others.
yourusername: alexa play manchild by sabrina carpenter 🗣🗣🗣
view all comments
alexandrasaintmleux: the caption???? oh she said ENOUGH
kikagomes: screaming crying throwing up
carmenmmundt: so this is what healing looks like
rebeccadonaldson: main character energy always
fan01: MANCHILD????? yeah she meant THAT
fan02: oh she’s not being subtle anymore
fan03: the way manchild fits a certain australian driver a little TOO well
fan04: when the song choice tells the whole story
fan05: she looks happier ngl
fan06: i love oscar but… this song is kinda accurate 💀
fan07: not her saying everything without saying names
fan08: the peace on her face says more than any interview
fan09: oh this is a statement
lilymhe: healing looks good on you 🤍
fan10: she’s moving on and it shows
fan11: i know that song hurt someone’s feelings
—
—
He didn’t give himself time to overthink it.
That was the mistake every other time — thinking too much, saying too little.
After the conversation with his mum, Oscar stood in the middle of his apartment, phone abandoned on the counter, heart pounding like he was about to line up on a grid again. Except this time, there was no helmet to hide behind. No radio telling him what to say.
He checked the time.
8:03 p.m.
Of course it was.
Her hour.
For years now, eight o’clock meant the same thing: lights dimmed, takeout on the coffee table, Gossip Girl playing softly in the background while she pretended she wasn’t rewatching it for the hundredth time. A stupid little tradition she loved. One he had grown to adore simply because it was hers.
Going to see her now was reckless.
Going to see her now was necessary.
Oscar grabbed his keys and left before doubt could catch up to him.
The drive through Monaco felt unreal, like the city was holding its breath with him. The streets glowed under warm lights, familiar turns passing by too quickly, his thoughts louder than the engine. His hands were steady on the wheel, but his chest felt tight, heavy with everything he hadn’t said.
He pulled over outside a small flower shop — still open, still lit — as if the universe was quietly conspiring against his excuses. Inside, he didn’t hesitate. He chose the most colorful bouquet they had. Wild, bright, a little chaotic.
Just like her.
Colors that reminded him of her laugh, the way she took up space without apologizing, the way she made everything around her feel warmer just by existing. He stared at the flowers for a second longer than necessary, swallowing.
Please don’t be too late, he thought.
Not to the building.
To her.
When he finally parked beneath her apartment, his nerves hit him all at once. The familiar underground garage suddenly felt hostile, like it knew he didn’t deserve to be there. He approached the security desk, voice low, almost pleading.
“Please,” he said, “don’t call up. Just… don’t tell her.”
The guard looked at him for a moment, recognition flashing in his eyes. Then, quietly, he nodded.
Oscar exhaled. One small mercy.
The elevator ride felt endless. Each floor number lighting up like a countdown he couldn’t stop. He adjusted his grip on the bouquet, palms slightly damp, heart racing faster with every second.
She’s going to slam the door.
She’s going to yell.
She’s going to hit you.
And still, he went.
Standing outside her door, the sounds of her apartment leaked through faintly — a muffled TV, distant dialogue, the unmistakable cadence of Gossip Girl. He closed his eyes.
This was her safe space.
And he was about to disturb it.
Oscar inhaled deeply, then raised his hand and knocked.
Once.
Twice.
The door opened.
She was smiling when she did — soft, absent-minded, like she expected a delivery or a friend. Comfortable. At home. For half a second, his heart lifted.
And then she saw him.
Her smile from seconds ago was gone, wiped clean like it had never existed.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
Oscar swallowed. The words felt lodged in his throat, heavy with everything he’d rehearsed and everything he still didn’t know how to say.
“I messed things up,” he said quietly. “And I don’t mean a little.”
She scoffed, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “That’s one way to put it.”
“I blew things out of proportion,” he continued, forcing himself not to look away. “I let my head convince me there was a problem when there wasn’t. And you paid for it.”
Her eyes hardened. “You didn’t just ‘mess up,’ Oscar. You put me on trial for something I didn’t do. You made it sound like I was… embarrassing. Temporary.”
The words hit him harder than anything online ever could.
“I know,” he said. “I trapped you in a story I made up. I acted like I had reasons to attack when the truth is… I was scared.”
“Scared of what?” she snapped.
“Of how much I love you.”
The silence that followed was sharp.
She laughed once, bitter. “You don’t get to say that now.”
“I do,” he replied immediately. “Because it’s the truth I should’ve said before I burned everything down.”
She shook her head. “You always do this. You panic, you shut down, and then you pretend you didn’t light the match.”
Oscar stepped closer, stopping the moment she tensed.
“Fighting with you feels like fighting with no gloves,” he admitted. “Every word lands. And instead of protecting us, I swing anyway.”
Her jaw clenched. “So what? You’re here to say sorry and expect me to be okay?”
“No,” he said. “I’m here because seeing you hurt is unbearable. Because I lived like an island and punished you with silence, and I hate myself for it.”
Her voice dropped. “You broke what you loved.”
“I know,” he whispered. “It’s written all over your face. And I’m to blame.”
She looked away, blinking fast.
“I don’t want to do this to you,” Oscar went on, desperation finally bleeding through. “I don’t want to lose this. Lose you.”
“That should’ve mattered before the interview,” she said quietly.
“It did,” he said. “I just let my fear be louder.”
She finally looked at him again. “And what now?”
He hesitated, then spoke like it hurt to breathe.
“Now I stand here and tell you it was all me. In my head. My mess. My fire. Not what I meant, but still my fault.”
She opened the door wider — not to invite him in, but to face him fully.
“You don’t get reassurance from me,” she warned. “I’m not going to tell you it’s okay. I’m not going to tell you we’re fine.”
“I’m not asking you to,” he said softly. “I’m just asking you not to walk away.”
Her laugh cracked. “You really think that’s enough?”
“No,” he admitted. “But it’s all I have.”
He took a breath, voice breaking just slightly.
“I don’t need you to forgive me tonight. I don’t need promises. I just need the chance to meet you somewhere after the fire. After the damage. In whatever comes after this.”
She stared at him, anger and something far more dangerous — longing — warring in her eyes.
“You hurt me,” she said again.
“I know.”
“And I’m not done being angry.”
“I’ll stay anyway.”
A beat.
“You’re impossible,” she muttered.
“And you’re worth the fight,” he replied.
She didn’t step aside.
She didn’t forgive him.
But she didn’t close the door either.
And for Oscar, standing there under the soft hallway lights, heart exposed and shaking, that was enough to keep going — to wait for the afterglow.
—
May 25. Monaco GP.
paddockprincess
♥︎ liked by user91, user12 and 24,810 others.
paddockprincess: They say women never get it wrong — that we have a sixth sense. And if that’s true, then we know this gorgeous hair spotted in Oscar Piastri’s garage belongs to YN 👀
Do you think they’ve talked things out and are friends again? Or is something more quietly happening?
Thoughts below ⬇️
view all comments
fan01: that is 100% her hair I would recognize it anywhere
fan02: not them going private after all that chaos 👀
fan03: the way she hasn’t liked his posts but shows up in person?? LOUD
fan04: healing in private >>> explaining in public
fan05: best friends arc again?? or slow burn lovers 👀
fan06: if that’s her, then they’re definitely talking again
fan07: I love how they’re giving us NOTHING and EVERYTHING at the same time
fan08: the silence from both of them is actually very telling
fan09: he races better when she’s around, I said what I said
fan10: they’re protecting something fragile and I respect that
fan11: she looks like she belongs there. always has.
fan12: private peace looks good on them ❤️
fan13: the way only her hair is visible but everyone KNOWS
fan14: that man said “it meant nothing” and now she’s in his garage… interesting.
fan15: if my “best friend” hurt me like that I would NOT be in his workplace btw
fan17: not a coincidence that this is MONACO of all places
fan18: she didn’t show up for the cameras, she showed up for him
fan19: they said privacy is the new luxury
fan20: I feel like we’re intruding but also… I need updates
fan21: he always looks calmer when she’s around
fan22: soft reconciliation arc unlocked???
fan23: I love how neither of them has confirmed OR denied anything
fan24: she hasn’t followed him again but she’s THERE… that hurts in a good way
fan25: not them choosing real life over social media 😭
fan26: the way this is more intimate than any IG post
fan27: he better protect her this time
fan28: the trust rebuild is happening in real time
fan29: I swear Monaco GP is always where the drama peaks
fan30: quiet love > loud apologies
fan31: this is what “actions over words” looks like
fan32: no captions, no statements, just presence
fan33: whatever they are, it’s fragile and real
—
oscarpiastri
♥︎ liked by hattiepiastri, kimi.antonelli and 81,280 others.
oscarpiastri: Monaco always brings out the best in me 🙌
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mclaren: another strong weekend on one of the toughest tracks 🧡👏
f1: monaco suits you 🔥
lando: solid drive mate 👊
charles_leclerc: good race 👍
georgerussell63: nice one 👏
pierregasly: monaco magic ✨
danielricciardo: not bad at all, kid 😎
fan01: something about this post feels… softer?
fan02: he looks happier lately and I’m noticing
fan03: monaco really DOES bring out the best huh 👀
fan04: best race of the season so far honestly
fan05: he drove like he had something to prove
fan06: lowkey smiling different these days
fan07: quiet confidence looks good on you
fan08: we see you, piastri
fan09: ok but are we just ignoring who was in his garage today???
fan10: monaco brought out the best AND someone else 👀
fan11: so we’re not gonna talk about YN being there??
fan12: she didn’t like the post but she was THERE and that’s louder
fan13: monaco always reveals things eventually
fan14: the way he looked towards the garage after the race 🥲
fan15: you can’t convince me she wasn’t his good luck charm
fan16: soft reconciliation energy all over this post
fan17: he races better when he knows she’s watching
fan18: the silence from both of them is intentional and respectful
fan19: this is how you rebuild trust, slowly
fan20: monaco always does this to us 😭
—
yourusername
♥︎ liked by pilargzc, nicolepiastri and 43,617 others.
yourusername: white looks good on me ;)
view all comments
pilargzc: excuse me????? you look INSANE 🤍🔥 ♥︎ liked by yourusername
camcammi: oh she KNEW what she was doing
yourusername: 🫢
alexandrasaintmleux: this is very you 🤍✨
rebeccadonaldson: white was made for you, babe 😮💨 ♥︎ liked by yourusername
fan01: so we’re just casually wearing THAT now???
fan02: this is not subtle at ALL and I love it
fan03: white looks good but the context looks better 👀
fan04: that third photo just ended us
fan05: soft launch??? medium launch??? HARD LAUNCH???
fan06: the shirt is screaming and the caption is whispering
fan09: the way this feels intimate but quiet
fan10: I fear this healed something in me
fan11: we are NOT okay after slide 3
oscarpiastri: nice color 🙂 ♥︎ liked by yourusername
fan11: OH MY GOD HE COMMENTED
fan12: “nice color” IS INSANE ACTUALLY
fan13: THAT’S ALL HE HAD TO SAY????
fan14: monaco gp survivors checking in
fan15: that comment just confirmed EVERYTHING
fan16: someone take my phone away
fan18: yeah… they’re back.
—
paddockprincess
liked by user33, user04, user81 and 32,412 others.
paddockprincess: Oscar Piastri arrives at the paddock with none other than “his best friend” YN YL 👀 If the rumors are true, these two lovebirds might not be just friends anymore.
view all comments
fan01: THE WAY HE OPENED THE DOOR??? yeah no that’s not platonic
fan02: Barcelona GP said romance era unlocked
fan03: the body language is LOUD
fan04: he didn’t even look at the cameras, just at her 😭
fan05: “best friend” doing boyfriend duties I see
fan06: Monaco walked so Barcelona could RUN
fan07: opening the door, waiting for her, staying close… yeah okay
fan08: they arrived TOGETHER together
fan09: the soft launch is becoming a medium launch 👀
fan10: not him protecting her from the crowd with his hand on her back
fan11: that’s the same girl from the Monaco garage btw
fan12: he looks calmer. happier. different.
fan13: this is the man who said “it meant nothing” btw 😭
fan14: she fits right next to him like it’s always been that way
fan15: he waited until she was fully out before moving… sir???
fan16: the silence from them both is actually driving me insane
fan17: this feels like the calm after the storm
fan18: soft smiles, no rush, no hiding
fan19: paddock princess never misses 👀
fan20: I’m obsessed with how gentle this looks
fan21: yeah… they’re not just friends anymore and we all know it
—
Sunday, June 1st, 2025.
Spanish Grand Prix.
YN being in the paddock was no longer news — but today, it felt different. The air was electric, heavy with anticipation, with that quiet certainty that something special was about to happen. Only a handful of laps remained, and Oscar Piastri was leading the race.
Every screen glowed with his name at the top.
YN stood near the pit wall, hands clasped tightly together, heart racing in sync with the cars screaming past. Around her, the paddock buzzed, but she barely heard it. Her eyes never left the monitor. One lap. Two. The seconds stretched unbearably thin.
And then it happened.
The chequered flag waved.
Oscar crossed the line first — winner of the Spanish Grand Prix.
The paddock exploded into sound.
YN let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, a laugh breaking free as emotion rushed through her all at once. Nicole Piastri was beside her immediately, and the two of them hugged tightly, joy overflowing as cameras flashed around them, catching every second of shared celebration.
Down on the track, Oscar slowed the car, his victory lap unfolding beneath roaring grandstands. When he finally pulled into parc fermé and climbed out, the world descended on him — engineers shouting, teammates cheering, photographers swarming.
He embraced his crew. He waved. He smiled.
And then, without hesitation, he ran.
Helmet tucked under his arm, race suit still warm from the car, Oscar pushed through the crowd with purpose. He reached his mother first, wrapping her in a fierce hug, gratitude and triumph mixing in a single breath.
Then his eyes found YN.
Cameras followed instantly.
Oscar crossed the remaining distance in long, determined strides, stopping right in front of her. For a heartbeat, everything else faded — the noise, the chaos, the spectacle — until it was just the two of them standing under the Barcelona sun.
He smiled at her. Not the polished smile for sponsors or interviews — but the soft one he saved for her.
Without thinking, he pulled her into his arms. The hug was tight, grounding, unmistakably intimate. YN laughed softly against his chest, hands gripping his suit as flashes went off all around them, immortalizing the moment.
Oscar leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
The cameras went wild.
“You’re my lucky charm,” he said, voice warm, sincere, meant for her — even as microphones hovered nearby.
YN looked up at him, eyes shining, the world watching as if it already knew.
Around them, the paddock buzzed with whispers, with smiles, with knowing glances. No statement had been made. No caption written.
But the moment spoke for itself.
Under the Spanish sky, with victory still echoing in the air, Oscar Piastri held the girl everyone was starting to understand was far more than just his best friend.
And this time, he didn’t let go.
—
oscarpiastri
♥︎ liked by zakbrown, patooward and 561,905 others.
oscarpiastri: Time for a siesta. 🇪🇸😴🏆
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mclaren: P1 in Barcelona 👏 what a drive 🧡
monsterenergy: Spanish GP winner 🇪🇸🏆
pirellisport: flawless pace all weekend 👌
maxverstappen: timing was perfect ⌚🔥
lando: deserved 👊 enjoy the win
charles_leclerc: strong one 👍
fernandoalonso: mega race 👏
yukitsunoda0511: congrats mate 🔥
hattiepiastri: that looked easy 😎
carlossainz55: well done in my home race 👌
fan01: TIME FOR A SIESTA AFTER THAT PERFORMANCE???
fan02: sir you just won a race AND soft launched your gf
fan03: how are we supposed to ignore what happened in parc fermé???
fan04: the forehead kiss lives rent free in my mind
fan05: so we’re just acting normal after THAT???
fan06: the way he ran straight to her 😭
fan07: this caption is criminally calm
fan08: everyone pretending nothing happened but WE SAW IT
fan09: paddock princess was right AGAIN
fan10: he smiled different today and we know why
fan11: this is the happiest he’s looked all season
fan12: okay but the kiss on the forehead??? SIR???
fan13: ignoring the elephant in the room like pros
fan14: no statement needed after that moment
fan15: we were witnesses, your honor
yourusername: Spain looks good on you 🤍
fan17: HOLD ON.
fan18: SHE COMMENTED.
fan19: EVERYONE STAY CALM
oscarpiastri: you look even better on me 🙂
fan20: SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP
fan21: THAT’S IT. THAT’S THE CONFIRMATION.
fan22: “on me” IS CRAZY WORK
fan23: congrats to the happy couple idc idc
fan24: the way this is still so private but so public???
—
f1updates
♥︎ liked by fan78, fan87, fan32 and 45,819 others.
f1updates: Oscar Piastri has officially stopped running from the narrative.
Two days after leaving Barcelona together aboard the McLaren driver’s private jet, Oscar Piastri and YN YL were photographed again — this time in Monaco, on Piastri’s luxury yacht. The images show the pair sharing an intimate moment away from the paddock, cameras, and team colors.
The sighting comes just days after their widely discussed interaction at the Spanish Grand Prix, where cameras captured a visibly affectionate exchange in parc fermé following Piastri’s victory. While both have remained publicly quiet, their repeated appearances together — from Barcelona to Monaco — are no longer going unnoticed.
Once labeled “just best friends,” the question now feels inevitable: are they finally ready to confirm what the paddock (and the internet) already believes?
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user01: so this is what “keeping it private” looks like
user02: monaco yacht soft launch is insane behavior
user03: best friend allegations officially retired
user04: this man won a race and chose peace
user05: the transition from paddock to yacht is cinematic
user06: the parc fermé moment makes sense now
user07: f1 drivers 🤝 disappearing to monaco after winning
user08: this is not a rumor anymore, it’s a pattern
user09: imagine calling that your “bestie” with a straight face
user10: they look unbothered and that’s the loudest part
user11: okay but the timing??? immediately after barcelona???
user12: he’s never looked this relaxed mid-season
user13: so THIS is what he meant by “time for a siesta”
user14: if this isn’t confirmation then what is
user15: they’re not hiding, they’re just not explaining
user16: this is how you do it without doing it
user17: the paddock knew before we did, let’s be real
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oscarpiastri
♥︎ liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 1,819,018 others.
oscarpiastri: Finally, I can say it out loud.I’m completely and hopelessly in love with the same woman who stole my heart when we were five years old.
YN — I love you more than you could ever imagine. Thank you for staying, even when I mess things up. You’re the only woman who truly knows me… and somehow still chooses me. 🤍 yourusername
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yourusername: I’ve loved you since playground days… guess some things never change 🤍
mclaren: Love looks good on you both 🧡
f1: A love story years in the making 🏁
lando: about time you stopped hiding mate 😏❤️
rebeccadonaldson: this is actually so beautiful wow
carmenmmundt: five years old??? stop it right now 😭
lilymhe: this is the softest hard launch I’ve ever seen
kikagomes: the second pic??? oh I KNOW that was on purpose
paddockprincess: childhood friends to lovers… we won.
fan01: the way he chose THAT photo of her???
fan02: five year old oscar would be so proud
fan03: monaco yacht was the teaser, THIS is the movie
fan04: I take back every doubt I ever had
fan05: the paddock just gasped in unison
fan06: this is the most sincere caption I’ve read from a driver
fan07: okay fine I believe in love again
nicolepiastri: My favorite love story 🤍 So proud of you both.
hattiepiastri: finally can post her without hiding 😌 love you guys
maepiastri: I KNEW IT SINCE FOREVER 🥹🤍
georgerussell63: about time you admitted it mate
carlossainz55: happiness looks good on you both 🤍
pierregasly: pure, real love. congrats ❤️
alex_albon: the caption??? yeah this is serious serious
fernandoalo_official: love like this is rare. enjoy it.
fan08: HE BROUGHT THE FAMILY INTO IT IM DONE
fan09: five year old oscar pulling better than all of us
fan10: the way he chose a SOLO photo of her in the middle???
fan11: this isn’t a relationship this is destiny
fan12: childhood friends to lovers will always win
fan13: okay but “even when I mess things up” HURTS
fan14: this man loves LOUDLY when he finally does
fan15: I take back every joke I made about “best friend”
fan16: she looks like peace and he looks like he knows it
fan17: someone frame this caption in the Louvre
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yourusername
♥︎ liked by oliviarodrigo, ediepiastri and 871,718 others.
yourusername: I’ve loved you since we were young — back when forever was just a word and we didn’t know how rare this kind of love would be. 🤍
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oscarpiastri: I’ve loved you for just as long 🤍
nicolepiastri: That second photo has owned my heart for years 🥹
hattiepiastri: THE BABY PHOTO??? I’m emotional.
maepiastri: childhood sweethearts are my roman empire
pilargzc: nah this is actually insane (in a good way)
lilymhe: this feels like a movie montage
charles_leclerc: that smile says everything
alexandrasaintmleux: Love that grew up with you two.
fan01: THE SECOND SLIDE. THE THIRD SLIDE. ALL OF IT.
fan02: the baby photo ending me emotionally
fan03: they literally grew up together this is destiny
fan04: the way he looks at her in the first pic???
fan05: childhood friends to lovers always wins I don’t care
fan06: she chose THAT photo of him smiling oh she’s in love in love
fan07: love that doesn’t rush, just waits 🥹
fan08: okay but this is endgame energy
fan09: he looks safe with her and that’s everything
best friend sevika teaching us how to kiss? 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭
⋆★⋆ inexperienced ⋆★⋆
Bsf!sevika x reader
Part II here
“No, too short” Sevika grumbled from the bed, already bored of helping you pick out an outfit for your first date.
Throwing the black mini dress into the bed, you flop next to it defeated.
“Maybe I just shouldn’t go..”
Sevika perked up at your statement, you didn’t notice.
“Yeah, I agree”
Quickly turning your head up to face her “You’re supposed to encourage me to go out and do new things! You know, best friend duties!”
“Well-“
You cut her off
“Wait what if he goes in for a kiss? I don’t know how to kiss someone!”
Your voiced shrieked at a decibel Sevika didn’t know existed.
“Can’t believe eighteen years of your life and you have never had a kiss”
She chuckles from her spot on your bed, which is covered in pink sheets and blankets.
“Ugh, it’s just scary”
A beat passes.
“I could teach you?”
Your eyes snap to her face, trying to see if she was joking, though her face remained more serious than ever.
“Wait you’d do that for me?”
“Of course, is it not considered ‘best friend duties’?”
She sits up against your headboard, motioning with two fingers for you to move up to her.
Moving yourself onto your hands and knees you crawl over to her.
“Fuck me..” she murmurs under her breath
so quietly that you can’t hear.
Sitting back on your legs with your hands resting on your thighs, her body heat radiates off of you.
“I- I don’t know what to do”
Rolling her eyes with a smirk, she brings her hand to your cheek.
“Just follow my lead, yeah?”
You look up at her through your lashes and nod your head, nervous as fuck. The thought alone that you were about to kiss your very hot best friend makes you want to curl in on yourself, but the fact that she is so blatantly rubbing her thighs together through her sweatpants makes it even more difficult.
Sevika leans forward slightly, maintaining eye contact just in case you’re uncomfortable.
Your breath hitches when your noses brush against each other, you pull backwards just a little out of reflex. You’ve never gotten past this point, it always ended in an interruption or you chicken out.
“Hey hey, you’re okay I’ve got you” her words soothing your nerves ever so slightly, which gives you enough courage to break the gap between you two.
She kisses you like you two have done this a thousand times, like this is just a normal thing you do with her.
It feels so natural and right.
Unfortunately, the moment only lasts a second and she gently pulls away.
“Did I do okay?”
Your voice is small and soft, it makes her heart flip.
“Yes angel, you did amazing”
Your heart fluttering at her praise
The name she calls you all the time sounds different now, like it has a whole new meaning.
“Can… I try again, just to make sure?”
A small chuckle escapes her mouth
“Yes, just to make sure” she teases
Lips closing in on each other, a little bit more rough than last time, but still soft.
Her hands lands on your back, slowly trailing down to your waist and tugging you to sit on her lap.
If your panties weren’t soaked before, then they definitely are now.
A involuntary whimper leaves your mouth against her lips. You can feel her grin against you as she starts to introduce her tongue to yours.
You cling to the neckline of her shirt, dizzy from the growing pleasure in your stomach.
She releases a disappointed sigh when you part mouths.
“Is this still just you teaching me?”
“Do you want it to be just me teaching you?”
You shake your head
“Text your date and tell them you’re busy”
She laughs at how fast you reach over and grab your phone.
AN: sigh I love Sevika so much my heart hurts bruh 😔 send reqs‼️
You didn’t necessarily know what your relationship with Kei was.
If it was up to labels probably friends with benefits or a situationship.
You never really knew.
Neither of you have ever brought it up. But your reasoning was solely because you liked him and you were convinced he was only in this for the sex.
A drunken night was what spurred this up and after that the you both couldn’t stay away. A booty call away, a late night text message.
You were half expecting him to come tonight but you weren’t up for doing anything. You were tired. Physically and mentally.
In a cower of your own thoughts, you confessing like a normal human being didn’t please as an option for you. So you thought pushing him away was better. You knew things would end like this. In one person getting hurt. And since you assumed he wouldn’t have feelings for you, you’d rather be the first to leave.
As you lay in your bed, the moonlight makes its way through your curtains. The chill of the night caressing your face. You felt yourself slipping away.
Yet your door opens and you already know who it is. His tall figure casts a shadow in your room. The moonlight hitting his face so perfectly he looks heavenly. He slides in behind you, pulling your back flush against his chest. His big hand gliding across your tummy.
“M not in the mood Kei.” You whisper.
Your heart is beating rather fast and you’re sure that he could feel it. His movements freeze for a moment but he continues.
“That’s ok.” He whispers against the rim of your ear.
You shudder, your body not knowing whether to warm up or tense. You’re a little shocked that he stays, full heartedly expecting him to leave. You cast a glance behind you and he opens an eye.
“What?” He grumbles, closing his eye once again.
“You’re not gonna leave?” Which you agree sounds terrible but you didn’t mean any harm.
“Jeez, do you want me to?” He perks up and you shake your head.
“No. Sorry. I just thought you’d want to.”
His brows furrow.
“Why’s that?”
“Well, I don’t know I figured you’d just wanna have sex.”
Now he’s definitely confused and even offended.
“Is it really that weird for me to just stay over?”
You purse your lips, embarrassment getting to you.
“A little yes. You’re always gone by the morning.” You mumble.
“Because I have practice.” He says softly.
You sigh, your malicious thoughts getting to you. You both fall silent. Both of you to far in your head.
“Did you really think I just came to fuck?”
You gulp.
“Yea.”
Your voice is soft. Kei probably wouldn’t have heard you if he wasn’t next to you. But he does and that confirmation hurts him.
“Why?”
You’re growing a little frustrated or maybe it’s the embarrassment getting to you.
“I-I don’t know. We never talked about what we were so I just assumed you didn’t want anything serious.” You sigh.
“I do want something serious with you. But yea, we never really brought it up.” He blinks.
“Ugh you’re being confusing! How can you say all of this with a straight face.” You pout.
He sits up, looking down at you. He motions you to get up as well and he pulls you on his lap. Your cheeks are redder than ever, your eyes scanning everywhere except him.
“Look at me.” He says softly, cupping your cheek.
You meet his golden eyes, his glasses set on your table so you’re able to really look at him. Your arms wrap around his neck, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.
“I like you, I’ve always have.” He whispers, a faint smile on his lips.
But you’re finally able to see it. The softness and adoration in his eyes.
All of it.
Just for you.
He kisses the corner of your mouth, letting his lips linger. He pulls away just enough that your noses graze eachother.
“I’ll take you out tomorrow after our classes. If my words aren’t enough.” He mumbles.
“It is enough Kei but I’m not opposed to you taking me out.” You smile so big and he looks relieved.
“There you are.” He laughs, meeting your lips in a sweet kiss.
