#no - I know - it's because the post was so insulting and the tags make it look to me that we're mutually attacking each other equally | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

harrysfolklore · 10 months ago

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still a little bitch - cs55

summary: yn piastri and carlos sainz don’t hate each other anymore, but she still calls him a little bitch. PART ONE word count: 9.1k + social media posts

folkie radio: HERE IT IS !!!! THE LONG AWAITED PART TWO OF LITTLE BITCH!!! i’m going to be completely honest with you i’m beyond terrified of posting this. little bitch was overwhelmingly liked by all of you and i’m scared this won’t live up to it 😭 but i really really hope you like it. i’m not a fan of doing part two’s of fics but this one deserves it <33 buckle up for a ride or angst, some tears and a lot of little bitch calling. LOVE YOU ALL

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

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ynpiastri highlight of imola: LEO LECLERC

tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc

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username1 OMG LEO IS SO CUTE

username2 MISS THE SECOND PICTURE ???

username3 PIASTRI SIS HAS A BF?? OMG

alexandrasaintmleux My boy 😍😍

username4 what is carlos doing in the likes i thought they hated each other 😭

username5 HOW DOES OSCAR FEEL ABOUT HER BF I NEED TO KNOW

username6 not tagging the person in the second pic she’s such a piastri

landonorris You’re not slick at all my friend

↳ ynpiastri i literally never asked for your opinion

↳ username1 HEEELP

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If someone had told you a year ago that you would be making out with Carlos Sainz in his driver's room hours before the Monaco Grand Prix, you would've laughed in their faces and told them they were completely out of their mind.

Because why would you ever think of even breathing near the little bitch, right?

And yet, there you were. Your bodies pressed together as his lips explored your neck.

"Carlos," you murmured, your fingers tangling in his hair, "we shouldn't... someone could come in..."

He lifted his head, his brown eyes gleaming with desire. "Do you want me to stop, hermosa?"

"No," you admitted, "I don't want you to stop."

A satisfied smile played on his lips before he pressed them against yours again. His hands caressed your hips, pulling you even closer.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he whispered against your lips.

You couldn't help but smile. "The feeling's mutual, you little bitch."

He chuckled softly before speaking, "And to think that you hated me."

"I still do," you replied, but your tone lacked conviction. "It's just… I hate you a little less when you do that."

His lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear, making you shiver.

"Oh yeah?" he murmured, his hot breath against your skin. "And this?"

You let out a small moan, your nails digging slightly into his shoulders. "Maybe I hate you even less now."

He laughed softly, his hands sliding under your t-shirt. "You definitely don't hate me."

Almost a month had passed since that night in Carlos' car, and things between you two were amazing. You hadn't put a label on what you were yet, but you felt happier than ever.

You found yourselves seeking each other out more and more. But it wasn't just about the physical attraction or the tension of your bickering anymore. You discovered a side of Carlos you'd never seen before – his warmth, his humor, his vulnerability.

And you finally let your guard down and let him see that part of you, too.

The sarcastic remarks and playful insults were still there, but now they were tinged with affection rather than malice. Your friends had started to notice the change in your dynamic, especially Lando, who couldn't quite hide his knowing smirk whenever he saw you two together.

However, you decided to play it cool, not letting your friends know that there was something more between you and Carlos. They might be able to tell by now, but you still didn't want to admit it to them.

Which lead to secret rendezvous in hidden corners of the paddock become frequent occurrences. Like right now.

"As much as I'm enjoying this," you said as his lips still lingered on your neck and his hands roamed underneath your shirt, "I should go, someone's probably coming to get you shortly."

Carlos let out a soft groan of but nodded, slowly pulling away from you.

"You're right," he admitted, his hands reluctantly leaving your skin. "I wish we could stay like this, though. "

"I know," you smiled, reaching up to smooth his tousled hair. "But we can't risk getting caught, especially not today."

He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. "Tonight, then? After the race?"

"Assuming you don't crash into a wall, sure," you teased.

"Such faith in me," he chuckled, shaking his head. "I'll show you, hermosa. Watch me on that podium."

You were about to retort when a sharp knock on the door made you both freeze.

"Carlos? Five minutes until the briefing," came a voice from outside.

"Coming!" Carlos called back, "Looks like our time's up."

"I'll sneak out after you. Good luck out there, little bitch," you whispered, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

"Gracias, mi amor," he murmured, the endearment slipping out naturally.

You paused for a moment, surprised by the warm feeling that spread through your chest at his words. But there was no time to dwell on it. With a final kiss on your lips, he was out of the room.

Your heart was pounding as you tried to casually make your way out of Carlos' room. You were so focused on appearing nonchalant that you almost walked right into Charles.

"YN?" he said, his eyebrows raised in surprise and a knowing smirk slowly spreading across his face. "What are you doing here?"

You felt your cheeks flush as you scrambled for an explanation. "Oh, Charles! Hi! I was just… uh… coming to wish you good luck on the race."

"In Carlos' room?" his smirk widened.

Your heart sank. Of course he'd noticed where you'd come from. You tried to keep your voice steady as you replied, "No, no… I just got a bit turned around. All these corridors look the same, you know?"

"Uh-huh," Charles said, clearly not buying it for a second. "Well, thanks for the good luck wishes. Though I'm not sure how sincere they are if you're sneaking out of my teammate's room."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the knowing look in Charles' eyes made you realize it was pointless. He'd figured it out.

You were surprised Alex haven't told him already, anyway.

"Relax, YN. Your secret's safe with me," he said with a wink. "Though you might want to fix your hair before you see your brother. It's a bit… disheveled."

You groaned, quickly running your fingers through your hair as Charles walked away, still chuckling. You tried to make the flush on your cheeks go away as you reached McLaren hospitality.

Carlos Sainz was driving you crazy in the best possible way.

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ynpiastri LECLERCCCCCC FINALLY WON AND PERFECT PODIUM TYSM MONACO 😩😩😭

tagged: oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, lilyzneimer

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username1 I NEVER SAID ANYTHING BAD ABOUT THE MONACO GP

username2 her friendship with charles is so underrated love them

landonorris I wish my best friend celebrated my podiums like that

↳ ynpiastri i wish my best friend got more podiums to celebrate

↳ username1 HELPPP 😭

username3 UM HELLO??? posted sainz, TAGGED HIM, said it’s a perfect podium and she’s not coming for his neck for the touch with oscar on track that made the race re start ????? WHAT IS GOING ON

↳ username2 OH I SEE

charles_leclerc Thank you for coming to Ferrari just to wish me good luck and not anything else, that was definitely what made me win 😉

↳ ynpiastri stfu

↳ alexandrasaintmleux 😂😂😂😂

↳ oscarpiastri I’m really confused right now

carlossainz55 ❤️

↳ username1 BITCH WTF

↳ username2 ENEMIES TO LOVERS ???

TWITTER

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The party at Jimmy'z was in full swing, the air electric with the excitement of Charles' Grand Prix victory. The club was packed with F1 drivers, team personnel, and celebrities, all riding the high of the race day adrenaline.

You stood near the bar, your fourth glass of champagne in hand, feeling pleasantly buzzed. The room spun slightly as you looked around, your gaze inevitably drawn to Carlos. He was across the room, laughing with Pierre and Charles, but his eyes kept finding you in the crowd.

Every time your eyes met, you felt a jolt of electricity. The memory of his touch from earlier in the day lingered on your skin, making you crave more. You watched as he excused himself from his conversation and made his way toward you, weaving through the crowd with effortless grace.

"Enjoying the party, hermosa?" he asked, his voice low and husky as he leaned in close.

You shivered at his proximity, the scent of his cologne making your head spin even more. "It's alright," you said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Could be better though."

Carlos's eyes darkened at your words. He glanced around quickly before leaning in even closer, his lips barely brushing your ear. "Meet me outside in five minutes."

Before you could respond, he was gone, disappearing into the crowd. Your heart raced as you waited, trying not to watch the clock too obviously. When five minutes had passed, you made your way outside, your steps slightly unsteady.

The cool night air was a relief after the stuffy club. You spotted Carlos in one of the alleyways behind Jimmy'z. He turned as you approached, a smile spreading across his face.

"Remember the last time we were here?" he asked, pulling you close.

You giggled, the alcohol making you bold. "Yeah, when you kissed me unprovoked."

"Unprovoked?" Carlos raised an eyebrow, his hands settling on your waist. "I was being provoked by how insanely gorgeous you looked. Still do, by the way," he leaned even closer. "And if I recall correctly, you enjoyed it a lot."

"Maybe I did," you giggled, drunkenness clear in your every move. "Should we do it again?"

Without overthinking, you closed the gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a bold, impulsive kiss. It was tentative at first, testing the waters, but then you felt Carlos smile against your lips, his hands tightening on your waist as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

As the kiss intensified, you felt Carlos's hands slide from your waist to your lower back, pressing you even closer against him. The heat of his body contrasted with the cool night air, sending shivers down your spine. Your own hands moved up to tangle in his hair, earning a low groan from him that you felt more than heard.

Breaking apart for air, Carlos rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming in quick pants. "I'm crazy about you, Piastri," he murmured before leaning in for another kiss.

You were so lost in the moment that you didn't hear the footsteps of someone approaching.

"You freaking muppets! I knew it!"

You broke apart, startled, to see Lando standing there, a triumphant grin on his face.

"Lando!" you whined, burying your face in Carlos's chest. "Leave us alone!"

Carlos chuckled, his arms still around you. "How long have you known, cabron?"

"Please, you two are about as subtle as a neon sign," Lando smirked, crossing his arms. "Oh, this is too good. You two are so busted."

"Lando, please," Carlos started, but you cut him off.

"Go away, Lando!" you whined, clinging to Carlos. "We're busy."

Lando laughed, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you lovebirds alone. But we're definitely talking about this later!"

As Lando walked away, you turned back to Carlos, wrapping your arms around his neck, suddenly feeling very tired and more than a little drunk. "Take me home?" you asked, your words slurring slightly.

"Of course, mi amor," Carlos nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'll drive you to Oscar's."

"Nooo," you whined, clinging to him. "I want to stay with you tonight. Please?"

Carlos hesitated for a moment, clearly torn. "YN, you're pretty drunk. Are you sure that's a good idea?"

You nodded vigorously, then immediately regretted it as the world spun. "I'm sure. I just want to be with you. Please?"

"Alright, alright, you win. Let’s get you back to my place," he said gently, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you.

You beamed at him, pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, little bitch."

The night might have been a blur, but one thing was crystal clear—you were falling hard for Carlos Sainz, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

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ynpiastri have you guys ever tried hangover pancakes ?

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username1 OMG???

username2 SHE DOES HAVE A BF

lilyzneimer 👀👀👀

username3 BITCH THATS CARLOS SAINZ

↳ username1 nah there’s no way, they hate each other

charles_leclerc I did before you did

↳ ynpiastri don’t be jealous charlie 😚

landonorris BUSTED BUSTED

↳ ynpiastri bro get over it

↳ landonorris never

↳ username1 LET ME INNNNN

username4 people saying this is carlos sainz, do you guys not know their history or something

↳ username5 yeah but enemies to lovers is a real thing

oscarpiastri 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

↳ ynpiastri ily can you pick me up?

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You could practically hear your friend's and brother's laugh through the phone as you muted the conversation. Shaking your head, you grabbed your jacket and headed out to meet Carlos.

He was waiting for you outside, leaning against a lamppost with casual smile. The sight of him - dressed in jeans and a simple t-shirt, his hair slightly tousled by the breeze - made your heart skip a beat.

"There you are," he said, his face lighting up as you approached. "Ready to go?"

Without thinking twice about it, you wrapped your arms his shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss, taking him by surprise. Carlos' eyes widened but he quickly melted into it, his arms wrapping around your waist. When you finally pulled away, he was looking at you with a mix of delight and wonder.

"Well," he said, a bit breathlessly, "that's quite a hello. What was that for?"

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant despite the blush creeping up your cheeks. "Do I need a reason to kiss you?"

"No, hermosa," he said, pulling you closer. "You never need a reason. You're allowed to kiss me whenever you want."

With a playful glint in your eye. You pulled him in and kissed him again.

God you were down bad, it's embarrassing.

"Dios mio," he murmured as you pulled away, "I could get used to this."

You laughed, linking your arm with his as you started walking. "Don't get too comfortable, little bitch. I still have a reputation to maintain."

Carlos chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Of course, Piastri. Whatever you say."

As you strolled through the streets of Montreal, you found yourself initiating more little touches - a squeeze of his hand, a kiss on the cheek, leaning into him as you walked. Each time, you noticed how Carlos's face would light up, how he'd pull you a little closer.

It occurred to you that maybe he'd been holding back, worried about pushing you too far or too fast.

For the past month, you'd been letting your guard down, bit by bit. Carlos had somehow managed to sneak past your defenses with his charm and the warmth that had been hidden beneath all that banter. You'd always prided yourself on being independent, on not letting anyone get too close. But with Carlos, things felt different, at least now they did.

Still, there were moments when doubt crept in, when old insecurities bubbled to the surface. What if this was all just a fling for him? What if you were reading too much into the way he looked at you, the way he seemed to treasure every kiss and touch? What if you eventually went back to your bitterness towards each other?

You hadn't put a label on whatever this was between you, and the ambiguity sometimes left you feeling unsteady, as if you were walking on a tightrope without a safety net.

But bringing it up to him felt intimidating.

"Whats on your mind?" Carlos asked once he noticed that you went quiet and your eyes were wandering.

You considered bringing up the subject, but decided to ignore the thought for now.

"Nothing," you replied with a small smile, squeezing his hand. "Just thinking about how Lando is going to have our heads for not wanting to hang out with him."

Carlos chuckled, shaking his head. "Lando will survive. He can’t have us all to himself all the time."

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As the Spanish Grand Prix weekend approached, you found yourself in Barcelona, exploring the city with Carlos in a way you never imagined possible.

The man who once irritated you beyond belief was now showing you his childhood spots, sharing stories of his youth with a boyish enthusiasm that made your heart flutter.

When you told Oscar about your plans to head to Barcelona early with Carlos, you braced yourself for the teasing that was sure to follow.

Your brother didn't disappoint, his eyes lighting up with mischief as he launched into a series of jokes about you "fraternizing with the enemy" and how you'd "finally succumbed to Sainz's charms." But beneath the banter, you could see the genuine happiness in Oscar's eyes.

After the laughter died down, he pulled you into a hug and told you he was glad you'd found someone who made you happy, even if it was "that Spanish menace."

He was the best brother you could've asked for.

"And this," Carlos said, gesturing to a small, unassuming restaurant tucked away in a narrow street, "is where you'll find the best paella in all of Barcelona. Maybe even in all of Spain."

"That's a bold claim, Sainz," you raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You better not be overselling it."

"Would I ever lie to you, Piastri?"

"Yes, absolutely," you retorted, but there was no bite to your words.

As you sat down to eat, the aroma of saffron and seafood filled the air. Carlos watched expectantly as you took your first bite, and you couldn't help but close your eyes in delight at the flavors.

"Okay, I'll admit it," you said, opening your eyes to see his triumphant smile. "This might actually be the best paella I've ever had."

"I told you!" he exclaimed, looking far too pleased with himself. "Never doubt a Spaniard when it comes to paella."

"Alright, you win this round," you rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips.

As you continued to enjoy the meal, a comfortable silence settled between you and Carlos. It was in these quiet moments that you found yourself marveling at how far you'd come - from barely tolerating each other to... whatever this was now.

"You know, I've been thinking," Carlos broke the silence, his voice softer than usual, "We've talked a lot about my childhood here in Spain, but I realize I don't know much about your early years in Australia."

You looked up from your plate, a bit surprised by the sudden change in topic. "Oh, well, what do you want to know?"

Carlos leaned forward, his elbows on the table, genuine curiosity in his warm brown eyes. "Everything. What was it like growing up there? What did little YN enjoy back then?”

You paused for a moment, caught off guard by Carlos's question. Your mind immediately went to your childhood memories with Oscar, and you found yourself launching into a familiar narrative.

"Well, growing up in Australia was quite an adventure, especially with Oscar around," you began, a fond smile playing on your lips, “Oscar's always been obsessed with anything that has wheels. Even as a toddler, he'd zoom around the house with his toy cars, making engine noises..."

As you launched into the story of Oscar's journey from go-karts to Formula 1, you found yourself getting carried away with the memories. You talked about the early morning drives to races, the smell of petrol and rubber that became a constant in your life, the way your parents juggled work and Oscar's growing career.

"...and then there was this one time, Oscar was about 14, and he'd just won a major championship. The interviewer asked him who his biggest inspiration was, and do you know what he said?" You paused, smiling at the memory.

Carlos shook his head, completely engrossed in your story.

"He said it was me. Can you believe that? His older sister who couldn't tell a thing about cars. I think I cried for an hour after that interview."

As you finished your tale, you noticed Carlos watching you with an unreadable expression. "What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

Carlos smiled softly, reaching across the table to take your hand.

"Hermosa," he said gently, "I asked about your childhood, and you've told me all about Oscar's racing career."

You blinked, realizing he was right. "Oh, I... I guess I got carried away. Sorry about that."

"No, no," Carlos squeezed your hand reassuringly. "I love hearing about Oscar, truly. But I want to know about you. What did you like growing up? What were your passions, your dreams?"

You blinked, suddenly realizing that you had automatically steered the conversation towards Oscar, as you had done countless times before when asked about your childhood. The fact that Carlos had redirected the focus back to you left you momentarily speechless.

"I... wow," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't think anyone's ever asked me that before."

"Really? But surely people must have been interested in your childhood too?"

You shrugged, feeling a sudden lump in your throat. "Not really. I mean, Oscar was always the star, you know? My pride and joy, the racing prodigy. People were always more interested in his story."

Carlos squeezed your hand gently. "Well, I'm interested in your story. Tell me about little YN Piastri, not just Oscar's sister."

You took a deep breath, feeling a lot of emotions you couldn't quite name. Carlos's genuine interest in your personal story touched something deep within you, a part of yourself you'd almost forgotten existed.

"Actually," you began, your voice soft as you delved into long-buried memories, "I was always drawn to art. Not just painting or drawing, but all forms of visual expression. I remember spending hours in our backyard, arranging leaves and flowers into patterns, or using chalk to create massive, colorful murals on our driveway."

"That sounds beautiful. Did you take classes?" Carlos leaned in, his eyes bright with interest.

"Not really. I wasn't great in school, to be honest. Sitting still, focusing on textbooks - it just wasn't my strong suit. But give me a blank canvas or a lump of clay, and I could lose myself for hours."

"So why didn't you pursue it?" Carlos asked gently.

You paused, considering Carlos's question. It was something you'd never really articulated before, even to yourself.

"I guess... I never saw it as something to pursue," you said slowly. "My focus was always on Oscar. From the moment he started showing promise in racing, I just naturally fell into the role of his protector, his support system."

You smiled softly, remembering those early days. "Oscar was so talented, but he was also just a kid with big dreams and even bigger pressures. I felt like it was my job to shield him from the worst of it, to be his safe haven. It wasn't a sacrifice, not really. It was a choice I made out of love. Oscar's success, his happiness - that became my passion."

"But what about your art?" Carlos pressed, his tone careful but curious.

You shrugged, a mix of emotions flickering across your face. "It just… faded into the background, I guess. There were always races to attend, equipment to pack. My sketchbooks got buried under stacks of racing magazines. My easel gathered dust in the corner of my room."

Carlos reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "YN , that's… that's incredibly selfless of you. But don't you miss it?"

You felt a wave of emotion wash over you at Carlos's question, his gentle touch grounding you.

"I do," you admitted softly, your eyes meeting his. "I've been Oscar's sister, his supporter, for so long. I'm not sure I remember how to be anything else."

"Oh, mi amor," Carlos said softly, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. "You're so much more than just Oscar's sister. You're YN - a woman with a beautiful heart and a determinate mind. Your love for Oscar is admirable, but it doesn't have to be the only thing that defines you," he paused, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, "I'm honored to be close to that woman. The one who sees beauty in leaves and flowers, who can lose herself in creating art, even when she forgets about it."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. But old habits die hard, and you found yourself deflecting with humor. "Wow, Sainz," you said, a teasing glint in your eye. "Are you always this sappy, or am I just special?"

Carlos's face broke into a grin, recognizing your playful tone. "Only for you, Piastri. I have a reputation to maintain, you know."

"Oh please," you rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. "Your reputation as what? A little bitch?"

Carlos' face broke into a wide grin, "One day you'll stop calling me that."

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension of the earlier conversation dissolving into familiar banter. "Keep telling yourself that, Sainz."

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ynpiastri te quiero barcelona 🫶

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username1 OH

username2 WHAT IS HAPPENINGGGG

alexandrasaintmleux 👀❤️

username3 SHE THINKS SHES SLICK CROPPING CARLOS’ EYES GIRL WE CAN TELL ITS HIM

lilyzneimer 🥹

username4 the piastri - sainz beef turning into piastri - sainz romance wasn’t on my bingo card

nicolepiastri You failed Spanish like three times in high school…

↳ username1 HEEEEELPPP

↳ oscarpiastri 😂😂😂😂😂😂

↳ username2 mama piastri is too iconic for constantly dragging her kids

↳ ynpiastri 😩

landonorris I SEE HOW IT IS NOW

↳ username1 help lando’s dreams came true

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Saturday arrived in Barcelona, which meant it was time for qualifying.

After your quick rendezvous with Carlos in his motorhome - something that was routine by now- you made your way towards the paddock club to meet Alex and Kika. Your mind was still buzzing from Carlos' touch, your skin tingling where his lips had been just moments ago.

Your hair was slightly tousled, a result of Carlos' fingers running through it. You could still feel the ghost of his kisses on your neck, and the memory sent a shiver down your spine. Pausing briefly, you tried to smooth down your clothes and fix your appearance in the reflection of a nearby trailer. The last thing you needed was more knowing looks from your friends, you had enough when Lando teasing you and Carlos whenever he had the chance.

Approaching the paddock club, you spotted Alex and Kika waiting for you near the entrance.

"Hey, there you are!" Alex called out as you neared. "We were starting to wonder if you'd gotten lost."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "In a place I've been coming to for years? Not likely."

The three of you sat down at a nearby table and ordered something to drink. The conversation flowed easily, touching on everything from race predictions to the latest paddock gossip.

"So," Kika said, leaning forward towards you, "how are things going with Carlos? You two seem pretty cozy lately."

You felt a blush creeping up your neck, the warmth spreading to your cheeks. You took a sip of your drink to buy yourself a moment, but you couldn't hide the smile that tugged at your lips. "Things are good. Really good, actually."

"But…?" Alex's eyes narrowed slightly as she studied your face.

"But nothing," you shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "We're just enjoying each other's company."

Kika's eyebrows shot up, her expression a mix of surprise and disbelief. "Wait, has he not asked you to be his girlfriend yet? I thought for sure you two would be official by now."

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, bringing all your insecurities rushing to the surface. The ones you've tried to push away since this thing with Carlos began.

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but your friends knew you too well. The smile you'd been wearing moments ago faltered, and you could feel the doubt creeping in.

"Hey," Alex said softly, reaching out to squeeze your hand. "I'm sure it doesn't mean anything. Carlos is crazy about you, anyone can see that. Every relationship moves at its own pace."

You nodded, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "Yeah, of course. We're just taking things slow, that's all."

But as the conversation moved on to other topics, you couldn't shake the doubt that had taken root in your mind. You found yourself only half-listening, your thoughts a swirling mess of questions and insecurities.

Why hadn't Carlos made things official? Was he keeping his options open? Were you still just his rival's sister who picked fights with him in his eyes? The rational part of your brain tried to argue that labels didn't matter, that what you and Carlos had was special regardless of what you called it. But the insecure part wouldn't be silenced so easily.

As you sat there, surrounded by the chatter of your friends and the energy of the circuit, you felt a strange sense of isolation creep over you. You were in Carlos' home city, surrounded by his world, and yet you'd never felt more unsure of your place in it.

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"Finally," Carlos breathed, as he opened the door. Before you could utter a word, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside, kicking the door shut behind you. In one fluid motion, he pressed you against the wall, his body flush against yours.

"Carlos, what-" you started, but he silenced you with a searing kiss.

When he finally pulled away, you were both breathless. "Sorry," he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. "I've been wanting to do that all day."

"You saw me right after the race, you needy little bitch."

Carlos' hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer. "That was hours ago. Far too long."

"Seriously?" you teased, though you couldn't keep the affection out of your voice. "You're ridiculous, Sainz."

"Maybe," he conceded, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. "But you like it."

Carlos began to trail kisses down your neck, his touch igniting sparks across your skin. You laughed as he pulled you towards the bed, your fingers intertwining with his.

"Slow down, hotshot. The bed's not going anywhere."

"But my patience might," he turned to face you, "Do you know how hard it was to focus on the post-race interviews when all I could think about was getting you alone?"

"Oh, poor baby," you teased gently, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. "It must have been tough, going over the race data after a P6 finish."

Carlos groaned dramatically, pulling you closer. "Torture, hermosa. Absolute torture."

Carlos guided you towards the bed, his hands never leaving your body. With a gentle push, he lowered you onto the mattress, quickly following to hover above you. His lips found yours again, the kiss deep and passionate, as his hands roamed your sides, slipping under the hem of your shirt.

You arched into his touch, your own hands exploring the firm planes of his back. Carlos broke the kiss to trail his lips along your jawline, down to the sensitive spot on your neck that always made you gasp.

"You're really needy today, aren't you?" you said, running your fingers through his hair.

Carlos' lips quirked into a smirk, his eyes softening with affection. "I'm always needy when it comes to my girl," he murmured, leaning in to capture your lips once more.

Your breath caught in your throat, not just from the sensation of his warm breath on your skin, but from his words. My girl. The phrase echoed in your mind, stirring up the doubts you'd been trying to push away.

Suddenly, Kika's voice from your earlier conversation rang in your ears. "Wait, has he not asked you to be his girlfriend yet?"

The warmth that had been building in your chest turned cold as uncertainty crept in. If you were his girl, then why hadn't he made it official?

Carlos must have sensed your sudden tension because he pulled back slightly, his brow furrowing. "YN? What's wrong?"

You forced a smile, trying to shake off the doubts. "Nothing," you said, your voice not quite as steady as you'd hoped.

He studied your face for a moment, concern evident in his eyes. "Are you sure? We can stop if you're not feeling it."

"No, no," you assured him quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment. "I'm fine. Just… got distracted for a second."

Carlos didn't look entirely convinced, but he nodded slowly. "Okay, but promise me you'll tell me if something's bothering you?"

You nodded, pulling him back down for another kiss. As you lost yourself in the sensation of his lips on yours and his hands on your body, you pushed your concerns to the back of your mind.

A few moments later, you laid tangled beneath the covers, your head resting on Carlos' chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your bare shoulder. The afterglow should have been blissful, but your mind was elsewhere, racing with thoughts you couldn't quiet.

Carlos must have sensed your unease because he shifted slightly, tilting his head to look at you. "YN? What's wrong, hermosa? You seem… distant. Are you not feeling well?"

You sighed, debating whether to voice your concerns. "It's nothing, really. I just…" you trailed off, unsure how to continue.

"Hey," he said softly, his hand moving to cup your cheek. "Talk to me. What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?"

You bit your lip, your heart racing. "It's just… when you called me 'your girl' earlier… I don't know. It made me think."

"Think about what?" Carlos' brow furrowed slightly. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no, you didn't," you assured him quickly. "It's more about… us, I guess. About what we are. What this is between us."

"YN," he said, his voice low and intense. "I thought I've been clear about how I feel about you. I've been yours since that kiss at Jimmy'z last year. Maybe even before that, if I'm being honest."

His words should have reassured you, but they only made your anxiety spike. You sat up abruptly, pulling the sheet around you.

You'd wanted clarity, but now that you had it, you didn't know how to handle it.

"But what does that mean, Carlos?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly. "We've been doing... whatever this is for months now, but we've never really talked about it. We haven't put a label on it."

Carlos sat up too, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "I didn't think we needed to. I thought it was obvious how I felt about you."

"Obvious?" you repeated, a hint of frustration creeping into your voice. "How is it obvious when we've never actually discussed what we are to each other?"

Carlos reached for your hand, but you pulled away, standing up from the bed. You began pacing, your mind racing.

"YN, please," Carlos said, his voice soft. "Come back to bed. Let's talk about this."

You shook your head, reaching for your clothes. "I can't... I need to think. I need some space."

As you hurriedly dressed, Carlos got out of bed, pulling on his boxers. "Are you really running away, Piastri?" he asked, a hint of anger in his voice now. "I thought we were past this. That you weren't that arrogant girl who was ready to pick up pointless fights with me anymore."

His words stung, cutting deeper than you thought possible. It felt like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs and leaving you reeling. The accusation brought back all the insecurities you'd been trying to suppress, all the doubts about whether you deserved this happiness with Carlos. It was as if he'd reached into your chest and squeezed your heart, leaving you raw and vulnerable.

You whirled to face him, eyes flashing with hurt and anger. "Arrogant? Is that what you think of me?"

"No, that's not what I meant," Carlos ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice. "I just... I thought we'd moved past the point where you'd run away instead of talking to me."

"Maybe I wouldn't feel the need to run if you'd actually communicate with me," you shot back.

"Communicate?" Carlos scoffed. "That's rich coming from you. You're the one who's been keeping me at arm's length this whole time!"

The accusation hit you like a slap. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on, YN," Carlos said, his voice rising. "Every time things get too real, you pull away. You make a joke, you change the subject. It's like you're afraid of admitting that this might actually mean something."

"That's not fair," you protested, feeling tears prick at your eyes. "I'm here, aren't I? I've been here! But how am I supposed to be sure that this isn't just a fling for you? Or some twisted way to mess with Oscar?"

"Oscar?" Carlos looked you with wide eyes, shaking his head, "What does Oscar have to do with anything? This is about us, YN. You and me."

"Is it?" you challenged, your voice breaking. "Because sometimes I don't even know what 'us' means. Are we together? Are we just having fun? How am I supposed to know?"

Carlos' expression softened slightly, but his frustration was still evident. "You're not being fair, Piastri. I've always been the one to show my desire to be with you. I did it that night after Lando's party, remember? But you're the one who runs away when things get real."

His words hit home, and you felt a fresh wave of guilt and confusion wash over you.

"I don't... I don't run away," you said weakly, but even to your own ears, it sounded unconvincing.

"Don't you?" Carlos asked, his voice softening. "Every time I try to take a step forward, you take three steps back. I'm not the one who's afraid of labels here."

Silence lingered in the air, you felt physically sick. Carlos' words were true, every single one of them, deep down you knew it. As much as you tried to let your guard down with him, your self defense mechanisms always came through.

"When are you going to stop sabotaging your own happiness for other people?" Carlos asked after another minute of silence. "This isn't about Oscar, or anyone else. It's about you being too scared to admit that you might actually care about me."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, once again. "Scared? You think I'm scared? I'm terrified, Carlos! Terrified of getting hurt, of ruining everything. And you're not exactly making it easy.""

"How am I not making it easy?" Carlos demanded, his voice rising. "I've been nothing but clear about my feelings for you. Every time I get close, you shut down!" Carlos shouted, his frustration boiling over. "It's like you're allergic to any kind of emotional intimacy!"

"Oh, that's something coming from you," you spat back. "Mr. 'I-can-charm-anyone-with-a-smile'. How do I know this isn't just another conquest for you?"

The moment the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You saw the hurt flash across Carlos' face, quickly replaced by anger.

"A conquest?" he repeated, his voice dangerously low. "Is that really what you think of me? After everything I've shared with you?"

"I don't know what to think anymore," you said, your voice breaking. "This whole thing is just... it's too much. I can't do this."

You turned towards the door, reaching for the handle. Carlos stepped forward, his anger dissipating, replaced by desperation.

"YN, wait," he pleaded. "Please, don't go. Not like this. Let's talk, mi amor. Don't run from me."

The term of endearment, spoken so softly, almost broke your resolve. You paused, your hand on the doorknob, torn between the urge to flee and the desire to fall into his arms.

"I... I can't, Carlos," you whispered, your voice thick with tears. "I need some time. Some space to think."

"YN, please," Carlos said, his voice barely above a whisper. "We can figure this out together. Just... stay. Please."

You turned to look at him one last time, your heart breaking at the pain in his eyes. "I'm sorry," you managed to say. "I'll... I'll call you later."

And with that, you stepped out into the hallway, leaving Carlos standing alone in his room.

You immediately felt like you made a huge mistake.

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You were curled up on the couch in your apartment, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, staring blankly at the TV screen. The sound was muted, the flickering images providing a distraction you desperately needed but couldn't quite focus on. Your phone lay face down on the coffee table, ignored despite the occasional vibration of incoming messages.

Your mind wandered to Carlos, it always did.

The memory of your argument played on repeat in your head, each hurtful word a fresh wound. You couldn't shake the image of his face - the hurt, the anger, the desperation in his eyes as you walked out the door. It haunted you.

Everything that had happened that night felt like a blur. The passion of your initial encounter, the tenderness of his touch, the way he called you "his girl" - it all seemed so perfect until your insecurities came crashing in. You wondered if you had overreacted, if you had let your fears get the best of you.

Carlos had been right about one thing - you did have a tendency to run when things got too real. It was a defense mechanism, a way to protect yourself from getting hurt. But in doing so, were you sabotaging your own happiness, like he said?

The only thing you were sure about was that it wasn't physical attraction or the remaining tension of your bickering from last year anymore, Carlos saw you in a way no one else did, and that terrified you as much as it thrilled you.

Your conversation with Lando from earlier that day came back to you. You had called him in a moment of panic, spilling out all your fears and doubts. Lando, ever the unusual voice of reason, had listened patiently.

"YN," he had said, his voice gentle but firm, "you can't let your insecurities ruin what you and Carlos could have. I've known him for years, and I've never seen him like this with anyone else. He really cares about you."

"But what if it doesn't work out?" you had asked, your voice small. "What if we end up hating each other again?"

Lando had chuckled at that. "You two are so stubborn, you know that? You're both so afraid of letting your guard down that you're pushing each other away. Someone needs to take the first step, YN. And from what Carlos has told me, he's been trying. Maybe it's your turn."

His words echoed in your mind now, mixing with the memory of Carlos' plea for you to stay.

You made a huge mistake by walking away that night, and now you didn't know how to fix it.

A soft knock on the door startled you out of your thoughts. You hesitated, not wanting to face anyone, but another, more insistent knock followed.

"YN? It's me, open up," Oscar's voice called from the other side.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself off the couch and shuffled to the door. When you opened it, your brother's concerned face greeted you.

"Hey," Oscar said softly, his eyes scanning your disheveled appearance. "Can I come in?"

You nodded, stepping aside to let him enter. Oscar walked in, his gaze taking in the dim lighting and the general disarray of your usually tidy living room. He turned to face you, worry etched across his features.

"What's going on, sis? I heard you're not going to Austria," he said, his voice gentle but probing. "And it looks like you haven't slept in days."

You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "I just need a break," you mumbled, moving back to the couch and curling up in your previous position.

Oscar followed, sitting down beside you.

He reached out and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch gentle and familiar. "YN, talk to me. What's really going on? Is this about Carlos?"

At the mention of Carlos' name, you felt a fresh wave of emotion wash over you. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. Oscar noticed your reaction and pulled you into a tight hug.

"Oh, sis," he murmured, rubbing soothing circles on your back. "What happened?"

You buried your face in your brother's shoulder, finally letting the tears fall. Between sobs, you started to explain everything that had happened in Barcelona - the conversation with Kika and Alex, your growing insecurities, the night in Carlos's hotel room, your argument. As you spoke, you could feel the weight of the past week pressing down on you, the emotions you'd been bottling up threatening to spill over.

"…and now, I don't know what to do," you finished, your voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I've ruined everything."

"YN, listen to me. You haven't ruined anything," Oscar said, "Relationships are complicated, and misunderstandings happen. But from what you've told me and what I've seen, it sounds like Carlos cares about you a lot. And I think you care about him too, more than you're willing to admit to yourself."

"But what if it all goes wrong?" you wiped your eyes, sniffling. "What if we end up hating each other even more than we did before? What if... what if I'm not enough for him?"

Oscar shook his head, a small smile on his face. "You've always been your own worst enemy, you know that?" you almost rolled your eyes at he familiar statement. "Remember when I left for boarding school? You were so upset, convinced that I was leaving you behind forever. You didn't want to say goodbye, afraid it would hurt too much."

The memory flooded back, and you felt a lump form in your throat. "Yeah, I remember," you said softly.

"But do you remember what happened after?" Oscar prompted.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "We ended up talking more than ever. Phone calls, letters, video chats…"

"Exactly," Oscar said, squeezing your hand. "You were so scared of losing me that you almost pushed me away. But when you finally opened up, our relationship grew stronger than ever."

"That's different, Oscar. This is… it's Carlos. It's complicated."

"Is it?" Oscar challenged. "Or are you just making it complicated because you're scared? I've seen the way you two look at each other. It's not just some leftover tension from your rivalry. It's real."

You sighed, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. "But what if-"

"No more 'what ifs'," Oscar interrupted. "You can't live your life afraid of what might happen. You're missing out on what's right in front of you," you were quiet for a moment, considering his words until he spoke again, "I know you’ve held back a lot in your life—for me, for our family—but I don’t want you holding back when it comes to Carlos.”

You blinked, slightly caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Oscar hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “I mean… I’ve seen how much you sacrifice for the people you love. You’ve put so much of your own life on hold to support me, and I’ll always be grateful for that. But when it comes to Carlos—this thing between you—it’s different. I would never forgive myself if you sacrificed that for my sake.”

Your heart clenched at his words, and you realized how much Oscar understood you, maybe even more than you realized. “Oscar, I’m not holding back for you, I—”

“I know you’re not doing it consciously," he interrupted gently, "But I can see it. You’re worried about how our dynamic will change, or maybe how I’ll react. But, YN, I want you to be happy. If being with Carlos makes you happy, then I want you to go for it. Don’t worry about me. Don’t worry about anyone else.”

You sat there, absorbing what Oscar said. His words made you feel a lot of different things all at once. You realized he was right - you had been holding back, not just with Carlos, but in many parts of your life. This scared you, but also made you feel free.

It was time to put yourself first.

"I hate that you're always so wise, you're my little brother, I'm supposed to be the one giving you advice, not the other way around."

"To be fair, I was thrown into the motorsport world at an early age, you experience all kinds of drama there," he shrugged, making both of you laugh, "Now, are you going to talk to him, or do I need to drag you to Austria myself? Or even Madrid?"

You let out a small laugh, the first genuine one in days. "I guess I'll talk to him. But I still don't feel like going to Austria, I need some time to gather my thoughts."

"Fair enough," Oscar nodded, "Just don't take too long, okay? You both deserve to be happy. And Lando is freaking out because you're ruining his dreams again."

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ynpiastri i almost forgot how it felt to watch a race on tv. congratulations boys 🥳 and ty to my queen @carmenmmundt for the last picture

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username1 QUEEN WE MISS YOU WHAT HAPPENED

username2 the paddock is not the same without the most iconic piastri

lilyzneimer 🤍

carmenmmundt 😚😚

username3 im pretty sure this is the first time she’s not at a race since oscar’s f2 days

username4 THE 55 HELLO?????

username5 WHATS THEIR SHIP NAME?? PAINZ???

username6 she’s down bad for the smooth operator this is what i call enemies to lovers

landonorris You seem happy for my DNF…

↳ ynpiastri stfu

carlossainz55 ❤️

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You paced nervously in your apartment, your heart racing as you waited for Carlos to arrive. The soft carpet muffled your footsteps but did nothing to quiet the storm of thoughts in your head. You had rehearsed what you wanted to say a hundred times, but now that the moment was here, all your carefully prepared words seemed to evaporate.

Your eyes flitted to the clock on the wall, then to your phone, checking the time for what felt like the thousandth time. The knock on the door made you jump, your pulse skyrocketing. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. "It's just Carlos," you told yourself, but that thought brought both comfort and a new wave of anxiety.

With trembling hands, you smoothed down your shirt and ran a hand through your hair before opening the door. Carlos stood there, looking tired but as handsome as ever. His hair was slightly tousled, as if he'd been running his hands through it—a nervous habit you'd noticed before.

His eyes lit up when he saw you, a mix of relief and apprehension in his gaze. For a moment, you both just stared at each other, the air heavy with unspoken words and emotions.

"Hi," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You stepped aside to let him in, hyper-aware of his presence as he moved past you.

"Hi," he replied, his voice warm as he entered.

You led him to the living room, settling on the couch. There was a moment of awkward silence, the tension palpable. You both opened your mouths to speak at the same time.

"I'm sorry—“

"I wanted to—"

You both laughed, some of the tension dissipating. The sound of his laughter, even tinged with nervousness, helped to ease some of your anxiety.

"You go first," Carlos said, his eyes soft as he looked at you. His gaze was patient, encouraging, and you drew strength from it.

You took a deep breath, your hands fidgeting in your lap. You forced yourself to meet his eyes, knowing he deserved your full honesty. "Carlos, I'm so sorry for running away in Barcelona. It wasn't fair to you, and I've been kicking myself ever since. I… I panicked. Everything was happening so fast, and I just… I couldn't handle it."

He nodded, his expression understanding. He reached out to take your hand, his touch sending a shiver through you. "I appreciate that, YN. Truly. But I owe you an apology too. I shouldn't have pushed you or made assumptions about your feelings. I got caught up in the moment and didn't consider how overwhelming it might be for you."

"No, Carlos, you were right," you shook your head, squeezing his hand. "I do run away when things get too real. It's not fair to you, and it's not fair to myself either."

You paused, gathering your courage. Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure Carlos must be able to hear it. "The truth is, I care about you. A lot. More than I've cared about anyone in a long time. And that terrifies me."

Carlos moved closer, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. The tenderness in his touch almost undid you. "Why does it terrify you, mi amor?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours.

You leaned into his touch, feeling tears prick at your eyes. The vulnerability of the moment was almost overwhelming, but you forced yourself to continue. "Because I'm not used to feeling this vulnerable. I've always prided myself on being independent, on not needing anyone. It's been my armor, my way of protecting myself. But with you… you see parts of me that I don't show anyone else. You've managed to slip past all my defenses, and it scares me how much I want to let you in completely."

Carlos listened intently, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as you spoke. His warmth, his steady presence, made the walls you had built around yourself seem almost unnecessary.

"It's okay to be scared, hermosa. I understand why you feel like you need to protect yourself. But you don’t have to do it alone anymore. I’m here, and I want to be here for you, with you."

Your heart swelled at his words, and despite the vulnerability, a small part of you felt lighter, freer. "I’ve never let anyone get this close before," you admitted. "But I don’t want to keep running, Carlos. I don’t want to keep pushing you away."

Carlos smiled softly, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. "I don’t want you to run, either. I want us to be together, whatever comes next. But only if that’s what you want."

You exhaled shakily, emotions swirling inside you like a storm. "It is what I want," you said, your voice firm but laced with emotion. "I want to be with you. I’m tired of being scared of something that could be so good."

A look of pure relief crossed Carlos' face, and he pulled you into his arms. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, feeling his heart beating steadily under your cheek. His arms wrapped around you tightly, as if he were afraid you might disappear.

"I'm not going anywhere," you whispered, answering the unspoken fear that lingered between you both.

Carlos kissed the top of your head, his breath warm against your hair. "You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that."

You pulled back slightly to look up at him, your hands resting on his chest, "I promise I'll change, I'll be-"

"Mi amor," Carlos interrupted softly, "I don't want to change you. I fell for you exactly as you are—stubborn, brilliant, and fiercely independent. Those are the qualities that drew me to you in the first place."

You couldn't help but smile at that, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Even when I was being a pain in your ass?" you asked, a hint of your usual sass creeping into your voice.

"Especially then," he chuckled, the sound warming you from the inside out. "You know, even when we were at each other's throats, I was always drawn to you. I wanted to know you better, to understand what made you such a firecracker."

"Really?" you asked, surprised.

"Really," he confirmed, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Besides, you were infuriatingly attractive when you were angry. The way your eyes would flash, the flush on your cheeks… it took everything in me not to kiss you right then and there sometimes."

You felt a familiar warmth spreading across your cheeks at Carlos' words, but you couldn't help the playful smirk that tugged at your lips. "Oh, so that's why you were always trying to rile me up, huh? And here I thought you were just being an insufferable little bitch."

"Ah, there's the Piastri I know," Carlos threw his head back in laughter. "I was wondering when your sharp tongue would make an appearance."

"You love it," you teased, feeling more like yourself than you had in days.

"I do," he admitted, his eyes twinkling.

Carlos' gaze dropped to your lips. Slowly, he leaned in, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn't want to. Not anymore.

Your eyes fluttered closed as his lips met yours. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if he was still afraid you might run. But as you responded, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer, the kiss deepened, filled with all the emotions you had both been holding back.

When you finally pulled apart, Carlos rested his forehead against yours. "I meant every word I said," he murmured. "I'm serious about this. I want to make this work."

You took a deep breath, your heart racing for an entirely different reason now. "I'm serious too, Carlos. It scares me how much I want this, but… I want to be with you."

The smile that broke across Carlos' face was radiant. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you again.

"You're still my little bitch after all," you couldn't help but laugh as you parted.

"When are you going to change that to something more romantic, hmm?" Carlos rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling. "'Mi amor,' perhaps? Or 'cariño'?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I failed Spanish in high school?" you rolled your eyes back at him. "And I thought you liked it when I called you that. Didn't you say once that it turned you on?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny that statement," he said with a grin. "But how about this—you can call me your 'little bitch' if you want, but I get to call you my girlfriend. Deal?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the word 'girlfriend.' It should have scared you, but instead, it filled you with warmth.

"Deal," you agreed, pulling him in for another kiss.

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ynpiastri fitting 💋

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username1 OMGGGG

username2 ICONIC

alexandrasaintmleux 😂😂😂😂

username3 WHOS THE BOYFRIENDDDD

logansargeant Is this who I think it is? 👀

↳ ynpiastri little bitches everywhere

username4 THATS CARLOS CONFIRMED

username5 CARLOSYN PAINZ 😩

landonorris BITCH FINALLY

↳ username1 i bet lando manifested this

nicolepiastri We been knew since Singapore 2023, by the way

↳ ynpiastri MUM 😩

↳ username2 I LOVE YOU NICOLE PIASTRI

carlossainz55 ❤️

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The Hungarian Grand Prix had been a whirlwind of emotions. The entire paddock was still buzzing with excitement over Oscar's maiden Formula 1 victory.

Your little brother had driven the race of his life, leading most of the laps to take the checkered flag. The memory of him standing on the top step of the podium, eyes glistening with tears of joy as the Australian national anthem played, was one you'd cherish forever. The pride you felt was indescribable - your baby brother, the kid you'd watched grow up and chase his dreams, was now a Grand Prix winner.

It had been three blissful weeks since you and Carlos had officially become a couple. After your heartfelt conversation at your apartment, you had both taken the time to navigate this new phase of your relationship, and it had been everything you could have hoped for.

Telling your close friends and family was the easy part. Lando practically squealed with delight, Oscar and Carlos had a nice chat, and of course, Nicole Piastri, a fan of dragging her own kids, reminded everyone that you failed Spanish in high school multiple times, so Carlos had to make sure to constantly translate for you. The rest of the paddock had quickly caught on, and soon, Carlos Sainz and the eldest Piastri were the talk of the town.

But you didn't mind the attention. Being with Carlos felt so natural and right.

Now, as you sat in the airport waiting for your delayed flight to Monaco, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. Sure, the hours-long delay was less than ideal, but you were surrounded by the people you cared about most, celebrating Oscar's first win with good old fasioned airport McDonalds.

"I can't believe Oscar got his first win," Lando exclaimed, already halfway through a Big Mac. "That's crazy, mate."

"I know, I still can't believe it," Oscar beamed, "It hasn't really sunk in yet."

You reached over to give your brother's arm an affectionate squeeze. "I'm so proud of you, Osc. You deserve it."

"Thanks, sister. Couldn't have done it without your support all these years."

"Oh, come on," you teased, "I didn't drive that car. That was all you out there."

"Yeah, but you've always been there," Oscar insisted, his voice softening. "Through the karting days, the junior formulas, all of it. It means a lot."

You felt a lump form in your throat, touched by your brother's words. You pulled Oscar into a tight hug, blinking back tears of pride and joy. "You're my little brother, Osc. I'll always be in your corner, no matter what."

Oscar returned the embrace, squeezing you tightly. "I know, YN. And I couldn't ask for a better cheerleader."

When you finally pulled apart, you noticed the others watching with fond smiles.

Across the lounge, Carlos was engaged in an animated conversation with Lando, their voices a low hum in the background. You couldn't help but watch him, admiring the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the graceful movement of his hands as he gesticulated. Even in casual clothes, hair slightly mussed from the long day, he took your breath away.

As if sensing your gaze, Carlos looked up, his eyes meeting yours. The soft smile that spread across his face sent a flutter through your chest. You patted the empty spot next to you on the couch, a silent invitation. He nodded, excusing himself from his conversation with Lando, which couldn't help but tease about the two of you being codependent now.

"Missing me already, mi amor?" Carlos teased as he approached.

You rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn't keep the smile off your face. "Don't flatter yourself, Sainz. I just didn't want you to strain your neck looking over here every five seconds."

Carlos chuckled as he sat down next to you, immediately wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. "Ah, but how can I resist when the view is so beautiful?"

You snuggled into his side, inhaling the comforting scent of his cologne. "Smooth talker," you murmured, but there was no bite to your words.

"Only for you, hermosa," he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

For a while, you sat in comfortable silence, watching as the sun began to set through the large windows. The quiet was occasionally punctuated by laughter from where Oscar, Alex, and Lando were playing some sort of card game.

"How are you feeling?" you asked Carlos softly, noticing the slight droop to his shoulders.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Tired," he admitted. "It's been a long few weeks. But happy," he added, squeezing you gently. "Very happy."

You smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek. "I'm glad. You drove amazingly this weekend, you know."

"Thank you," Carlos leaned into your touch, his eyes softening. "It means a lot coming from you."

Carlos let out a contented sigh, his hand coming up to cover yours where it rested on his cheek. "I can't wait for the summer break, you know?" he murmured. "Just you and me, in Mallorca. No distractions, no obligations..." he turned his head slightly to press a kiss to your palm, his gaze holding yours. "I've been looking forward to it for weeks. Getting you all to myself, finally."

"That sounds perfect," you sighed happily. "Though I hope your plans also include plenty of time for just lounging around and doing absolutely nothing."

"Of course, whatever you want, hermosa."

"Whatever I want, huh?" you teased, a mischievous glint in your eye. "That's a dangerous offer, Sainz."

"I think I can handle whatever you throw at me, Piastri," he grinned, leaning in closer.

You were about to reply when a french fry hit you squarely on the forehead. You turned to see Oscar looking at you with mock disgust.

"Seriously, you two? We're right here," he groaned.

"Oh, like you and Lily aren't just as bad," you retorted, throwing the fry back at him.

Oscar caught it mid-air, popping it into his mouth with a grin. "At least we have the decency to be gross in private."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to see you all lovey-dovey," Lando chimed in.

"Shut up, Lando," you rolled your eyes, "I seem to recall you being the one who was pushing for this whole thing in the first place."

"Yeah, well," Lando shrugged, "I'm starting to think I preferred it when Carlos thought you were insufferable and you called him a 'little bitch'."

You couldn't help but laugh at that, glancing over at Carlos and pecking his cheek. "Oh, I still do."

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liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri 403,664 others

ynpiastri my little brother, the grand prix winner 🥺

oscar, watching you stand on that top step today brought tears to my eyes. i still remember the day you left for boarding school to chase your racing dreams. i felt like i was losing my little brother, and a piece of my heart went with you.

but seeing you now, living your dream and achieving what so many thought impossible, all i can feel is an overwhelming sense of pride. you've grown into an incredible man and driver, but you'll always be that kid who used to steal my snacks and beg me to play race cars with him.

your journey hasn't been easy, through every challenge, every setback, you kept pushing. and now, here you are, a grand prix winner, battling with the best (and occasionally a spaniard little bitch 😩)

you've grown so much, but some things never change. like how we're celebrating this monumental victory - stuck in an airport, chowing down on mcdonald's.

i love you so much, little bro ❤️

tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris, carlossainz55, landonorris, alex_albon

view all 4,648 comments

username1 im SOBBING this is so beautiful

username2 THE PIASTRI SIBLINGS ARE JUST TOO PURE

mclaren 🧡

nicolepiastri 🥲🥲🥲

username3 AHHH THE PICTURE OF HER AND CARLOS IN THE PLANE I CANT

username4 this is too pure as an eldest daughter im sobbing

username5 PAINZ CONFIRMED

carlossainz55 ❤️

↳ username1 he only comments hearts come on bro

username6 THE LANDOSCAR PIC🥺

oscarpiastri Sis, you've got me tearing up in the middle of this crowded airport. Your support has been the backbone of my journey, and I couldn't have done this without you. You've worn so many hats - cheerleader, mentor, occasional bodyguard (those Twitter wars were something else 😂 but look at you and Carlos now). But most importantly, you've been my rock. When Mum and Dad couldn't be there because of work, you stepped up. You've been my third parent in every way that counts. So yeah, we might be stuck in an airport eating McDonald's right now, but I wouldn't want to share this moment with anyone else. You're the best sister and 'bonus parent' a guy could ask for.

↳ ynpiastri bitch stop it my therapist has enough issues to deal with (ILYSM)

↳ username1 SHES SO REAL

↳ username2 OSCAR CONFIRMING CARLOS-YN

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TWITTER

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The sun hung low on the horizon, painting the sky in oranges, pinks, and purples. The water was gently hitting the side of the yacht, making a calming sound. This peaceful feeling matched the quiet mood around you and Carlos.

You were sprawled out on the deck, lounging on plush cushions as the warm Mallorcan breeze caressed your skin. Carlos lay beside you, propped up on one elbow, his eyes roaming over you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

"You're staring," you murmured, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

Carlos didn't even try to deny it. "How can I not?" he replied, his voice low and husky. "You're breathtaking, mi amor."

You felt a blush creep up your neck, still not entirely used to the way Carlos could make you feel with just a few words. "Flatterer," you teased, reaching out to run your fingers through his hair.

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly in contentment. When he opened them again, the look he gave you was filled with such warmth and adoration that it made your heart skip a beat.

"It's not flattery if it's true," Carlos insisted, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your shoulder. "You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

You couldn't help the small gasp that escaped you as his lips trailed up your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "Carlos," you breathed, your fingers tightening in his hair.

He hummed against your skin, the vibration sending a shiver through you. "Yes, hermosa?"

"Kiss me," you demanded softly, tugging him closer.

Carlos was more than happy to oblige, capturing your lips in a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened. You lost yourself in the sensation, in the taste of him, in the feeling of his body pressed against yours.

When you finally broke apart, Carlos rested his forehead against yours. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" he murmured, his accent thicker than usual.

"Good. That's the plan," you grinned

Carlos groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "You'll be the death of me, Piastri."

"But what a way to go," you quipped, running your hands down his back.

He chuckled against your skin, the sound sending pleasant vibrations through you. "Indeed."

As Carlos lifted his head to look at you again, something caught your eye over his shoulder. Squinting slightly, you realized what it was and couldn't help but let out a small sigh.

"What is it?" Carlos asked, noticing the change in your expression.

"Don't look now, but we've got company," you said, nodding slightly towards the distance. "Paparazzi, about a hundred meters out."

Carlos groaned, dropping his head back to your shoulder. "Can't we have one moment of peace?"

You ran your fingers soothingly through his hair. "Hey, it's okay. We knew this was part of the deal."

"I know. I just… I want to keep you all to myself sometimes."

The possessiveness in his tone sent a thrill through you. "Well," you said, a mischievous glint in your eye, "if they're going to intrude on our privacy anyway, we might as well give them something to see."

Before Carlos could react, you pulled him down for another kiss, this one slower, deeper, and decidedly more public-friendly than your previous ones. When you pulled back, Carlos looked slightly dazed.

"Dios mio, your family is going to see those," he shook his head, "What will Nicole Piastri think of me? Oscar will run me off the track, too."

You laughed, the sound light and carefree. "Oh, please. My mum adores you, and you know it. As for Oscar, well… he'll just have to get used to it," you shrugged, "He was the one who encouraged this to happen anyway."

Carlos only shook his head with a smile, pulling you in for another kiss, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, feeling his skin against yours.

When you finally broke apart, Carlos's eyes were soft, "Te quiero," he whispered, his voice husky and filled with emotion.

You couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips. "I failed Spanish, remember?" you teased gently, your heart racing in your chest.

Carlos's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled back. "I think you know what that means," he replied, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I love you too, you little bitch."

Carlos let out a dramatic groan, but the affection in his expression was unmistakable. "I should have known the sappiness wouldn't last."

"Hey, you signed up for this," you teased, poking him playfully in the chest. "Might as well accept it."

Pulling you close, Carlos pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "Gladly, mi amor. Gladly."

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TWITTER

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INSTAGRAM

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 476,458 others

ynpiastri he’s still a little bitch 😚

tagged: carlossainz55

view all 4,987 comments

username1 AHHHH

username2 THIS HARD LAUCH

alexandrasaintmleux love to see you happy my girl 🥰

lilyzneimer 💓💓

username3 THIS is enemies to lovers

username4 i still can’t believe they’re together 😭 THEY HATED EACH OTHER

georgerussell63 WELL FINALLY

↳ alex_albon For real

↳ username1 THE ENTIRE GRID JUST KNEW

↳ ynpiastri why are all of you so damn nosy

↳ pierregasly Or you and Carlos were too obvious

↳ charles_leclerc 😂😂😂😂😂

oscarpiastri Yup, this is weird

↳ username1 OSCARRRR

oscarpiastri However, I’m really happy for you sister ❤️

↳ ynpiastri ily little indirect matchmaker

carlossainz55 You’ll never stop calling me that, won’t you hermosa?

↳ ynpiastri NEVERRR MY LITTLE BITCH FOR LIFE

4K notes · View notes

isekyaaa · 2 years ago

Text

It catches me off guard how many notes some posts on my other blogs get because I don't see all the activity on my activity pages and I don't check the posts directly so like I'll visit one day to see 11 other people also think it's funny Mondstadt forgot about Dvalin.

#rambles #i will say the tags on that post is a banger tho so it makes sense u///u #the dumb part of me just likes to think that people like reading my dumbass tags because sometimes i am funny #no but i got 21 notes on that genshin vs hsr post i made which really caught me off guard #i barely saw anything on my activity page #like i know i blocked a bunch of not sfw writers but like.......#do that many not sfw writers interact with my posts?#or is my activity page just acting weird?#ugh #i need to write more deep and actually interesting things on andsersdotters but the only things lit in my head are like #'once p*imon got high on mushrooms and went and hugged t*ghnari's tail thinking it was hers' (this is technically canon)#and #'how much u wanna bet x*ngqiu is tone deaf?'#i need to come up with better things for more popular characters #fun fact though totally off topic but did you know you can purchase curses on etsy #you can also contract ppl to contact different demons to do your bidding #like no legit type in a demon's name on etsy and it'll come up #can you believe it?#like ngl if i was a demon i'd feel highkey offended insulted and used???#i'd curse the person that posted those listings like what the hell man #the best part are these ppl have like 500+ 5-star reviews #you can also hire someone on etsy to write you a letter from your ex apologizing to give you closure #or from someone that has died #also 1000+ 5-star reviews #they can get your letter to you in less than an hour lol #the world is an amazing place #if i had all the money in the world i'd buy multiple letters to see how many times i need to buy to start getting duplicates lol

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kxsagi · 11 days ago

Note

HEYYYY I JUST CAME HERE TO SAY THAT I LOVE YOUR WORKS!! And also, are perhaps a fan of f1? If you are, can you please make a blue lock boys x f1 driver!reader? I think it’s a cool crossover and I haven’t seen a lot of them in the blue lock fandom so it would be nice to have new contents💗

“𝐯𝐚 𝐯𝐚 𝐯𝐨𝐨𝐦”

a/n: THANK YOU BABES!!!

i'm not a serious fan, but i do think that F1 is cool as hell and i would def be down to see the movie!

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, shidou ryusei, kaiser michael, karasu tabito, and barou shoei

isagi yoichi

isagi’s already obsessed with reading plays, so the moment he saw you overtaking two cars on a rainy track at 300 km/h, he short-circuited.

“did you see how she predicted that corner?? she didn’t even brake. she’s literally– oh my gosh i’m in love with her.”

he’s your biggest cheerleader. he wears your merch to blue lock practice. he made his own "driver! you x isagi" twitter account and keeps replying “W” under every race win post.

he tries to relate by talking about how football also requires good reflexes and team strategy… but you once let him sit in your simulator and he crashed in 0.4 seconds.

“yoichi, there’s a wall, don’t–” BOOM

refuses to let you drive him anywhere but gets incredibly flustered when you call him “slowpoke.”

“i’m not slow! you’re just– you’re literally trained for this!!”

when you bring him to a race for the first time, he wore noise-cancelling headphones, sunscreen, and packed three bottles of water. boy was acting like he was going to war.

itoshi rin

rin swears he doesn’t care, but he has your race schedule memorized down to the millisecond.

“you’re racing in monaco this week, right? i checked the weather. track’s gonna be tricky. don’t fuck it up.”

he says that with his arms crossed, standing outside your trailer with a bag full of fresh fruit and electrolyte drinks.

jealous of your car. not in a weird way, just bitter. “why does she talk to the car like that. i swear i heard her say ‘good girl.’”

you offered to take him for a lap once and he glared at you like you just insulted his entire bloodline.

secretly goes insane when he sees you in your race suit. he pretends not to look, but his eye twitches.

if anyone tries to flirt with you on the grid, rin is immediately in silent death glare mode.

“are they your engineer or something?” “that’s the FIA president.” “okay. and?”

itoshi sae

sae fell for you the moment you told a reporter to “grow a pair” when they asked if racing as a woman was “too dangerous.”

has a very dry but deeply supportive boyfriend style. posts one photo of you on his story like “podium again. cool.”

but he’s literally watching the livestream, checking your sector times, and texting your team principal like “she needs new tires. tell her.”

when he visits the paddock, everyone’s scared of him. it’s giving silent, rich, bored, and disgusted by most people.

you once threw your helmet in rage after a DNF and he simply picked it up, handed you a water bottle, and said: “you’ll destroy them next week. now stop sulking.”

secretly wants to kiss you after every race, but acts like he’s too cool for PDA.

when you crash for the first time (even if it’s minor), he FLIES out of his seat and almost decks a camera guy on his way to the medical center.

nagi seishiro

“woah, you drive go-karts for a living? sick.” “… it’s formula 1, sei.”

doesn’t know what’s going on most of the time, but loves tagging along because the seats are comfy and you keep winning.

he finds the speed kind of fun… until you take him drifting in a parking lot at night.

“okay i’m gonna throw up. i saw my soul leave my body.”

nags you to buy him team jackets in every color. now he’s got the full outfit: oversized jacket, hat, lanyard, and even a custom “NAGI” headset.

he once got bored during qualifying and fell asleep in the hospitality suite. woke up when you won pole and went: “yay, good job, babe.”

his phone background is you mid-race with your visor down. you asked him why and he went: “you look like a cool villain. i like it. run me over, next?”

mikage reo

THE MOST SUPPORTIVE BOYFRIEND EVER. he’s literally built to be a paddock husband.

walks around the grid with a rolex, sunglasses, and a laminated pass with “DRIVER GUEST - REO MIKAGE” like it’s the met gala.

screams when you overtake someone. leaps up in celebration like he just won the world cup.

“SHE’S P1! SHE’S P1, BABY, LET’S GOOOO!!!”

once tried to bribe your race engineer to let him wear your helmet for “just one picture.”

owns every possible merch item with your face on it. mousepads. pillows. tote bags. even a personalized coffee mug that says “#1 DRIVER GIRLFRIEND.”

he is so down bad every time you take your gloves off.

“how are your hands so hot when you just drove for 2 hours straight. what the hell. marry me.”

already planning a rich people wedding at a racetrack. he’s dead serious.

shidou ryusei

“babe. listen. let me ride on top of the car. just once. just while it’s moving. i need the rush.”

absolute menace in the paddock. he’s not allowed to touch anything anymore after he once tried to rev the engine mid-setup.

he finds everything about you so hot. the danger. the speed. the fact that you can do donuts in a $20 million car.

“yo that crash was INSANE– wait, you’re okay right? good. now that crash was SICK.”

wears your race suit around the house. nothing else.

makes out with you after every race like it’s the end of the world. doesn’t care who’s watching.

he yells your name from the grandstands. not even cheers. just: “I’M GONNA PROPOSE IF YOU WIN THIS!!!”

and when you do win, he’s already climbing over fences like a madman.

kaiser michael

he thinks you’re a goddess.

he first saw you doing a victory burnout and now refuses to shut up about it.

“do you know how fucking cool you are? i should be the one asking for your autograph.”

ultra cocky boyfriend energy but he melts when you call him your “pit crew” after a long race.

“pit crew? i’d change your tires with my teeth.”

literally flexes you like a trophy. has you as his lockscreen, home screen, and contact photo. your name in his phone is “speed demon 🏎️❤️”

gets super into the sport. buys your whole team dinner when you win. roasts rival drivers.

“that guy behind you? yeah. he’s shaking. peed himself probably.”

you let him sit in your car once and he wouldn’t get out. said “i live here now.”

karasu tabito

okay so karasu is OBSESSED.

he is a strategy nerd and immediately starts watching all your onboard footage, analyzing your corner exits like it's his life mission.

“babe, you’re literally the queen of late braking. who taught you that? marry me.”

wears a team jacket with your number embroidered on the sleeve. brags about you to everyone.

“oh yeah my girl drives 350 km/h for a living. no biggie. she could probably drift better than you walk.”

flirts with you while you're driving. always.

“focus on the road,” you say.

“oh i am, baby. especially when you’re in the driver's seat.”

you once did donuts in a parking lot while he stood in the middle hyping you up with his phone camera.

top commenter on all your socials: “she fast AND hot??? how is this legal???”

barou shoei

he thought you were insane. like clinically insane.

“why the hell would you drive that fast for that long. on purpose.”

barou is a control freak and hates the idea of not being in charge, so the first time he sat shotgun while you were driving he nearly screamed.

he clutched the seat. he held onto the door. he made you swear on your life not to drift again.

“I SAID TURN LEFT, NOT LAUNCH INTO ORBIT–”

but he deeply respects your work ethic and competitiveness.

says stuff like “don’t let those bastards pass you” while tying your gloves for you pre-race.

and when you win? he goes feral.

doesn’t even celebrate, just pulls you into his arms and says “that’s my girl.”

also the only one who glares at paparazzi until they get scared and run.

445 notes · View notes

flowersdiceandlove · 3 months ago

Text

Inspired by @sunderwight cosplaying Shen Yuan posts

No transmigration. cumplane.

People obviously take pictures of him when he goes to cons and posts them. They get a lot of attention. People are always in awe at the accuracy and amazing quality of his costumes. The people he commissioned them from get a lot of business afterwards. He pulls off the crossplay really well because of his pretty face and slim body. He just has to add padding in the right areas and learn makeup from his meimei and online tutorials. Sometimes people really can't tell he's a guy it's so good. Especially his Liu Mingyan cosplay that he does the most. She's his favorite of the wives after all and one of the few he thinks close to worthy of Binghe. He's done multiple different outfits for her. He never cosplays Luo Binghe, though. He doesn't think he could pull it off, Binghe is just that amazing. (But obviously he can pull Binghe's peerless beauty wives off.)

His PIDW cosplays make their way to the forums and people talk about them. It is a known fact in those forums that Peerless Cucumber will roast them to hell and back for their inaccuracy and shoddy craftsmanship. So, it is very strange that he never comments on these cosplays. Yes, they're amazing, but surely Peerless Cucumber could find at least one thing wrong with them. Eventually someone tags him in the comments or makes a post asking about them. He replies with something like "I'm the one who designed those. do you really think I would go out like that without them meeting my expectations?" but with more scathing remarks and saying he's not like the others who are fine with cosplay inadequacy.

That spurs many people to go look back through all of this cosplayer's previous cosplays, not just the ones from PIDW, and collectively think "oh wow, he's so pretty." It's a total shock through the entirety of the PIDW forums and fandom. They all thought Peerless Cucumber was some ugly dude behind a computer screen. They're a mix of feeling bad about themselves because when Peerless Cucumber tore them a new one in the forums they comforted themselves with thinking "You're just like us! Just some dude reading trashy novels! Nothing special! You're just mean cause you have nothing going for you!" and also the Peerless Cucumber fanclub growing because he is just that pretty and going feral over it.

His gender comes into question because a good number of people are convinced he's actually a girl. When he catches wind of that he responds with "Of course I'm a guy you idiots!! WTF!? Have you gone blind after reading all of Airplane's stupid writing!?" He's giving gender envy to a lot of people.

Some people are still unconvinced that the cosplayer is actually Peerless Cucumber because how can someone that pretty be Peerless Cucumber? They think he's just trolling everyone or something.

In the newest arcs of PIDW some very pretty ladies with cutting words and biting insults and criticisms are introduced. The ladies all have very high expectations of what their spouse should be like and have turned away every man seeking their hand in marriage. Of course when Luo Binghe enters the scene he meets all their expectations and requirements and sweeps them off their feet. A lot of readers who are keeping up on the Peerless Cucumber cosplay saga make the connection. Shen Yuan does not, and tears the new wives apart about how mean they were to Binghe at first, and then about how weak and pathetic they are, and then their clinginess, and so on. With every new day, Peerless Cucumber's criticisms are rectified as the arc continues, but he always finds something new wrong with the women. The other readers have varied reactions to this development. Some think that Peerless Cucumber should just shut it and let the Great God Airplane do his thing. Some of the people who Know about the cosplay saga and made the connection just want this time of Airplane making Peerless Cucumber into one of Binghe's wives to be over because this is a stallion novel. They don't want to read about Bingge seducing fem fantasy Peerless Cucumber. Just give them the normal women back. Other readers who Know are excited for the eventual sex scenes. Shen Yuan is just happy that his critiques are finally being taken into account, hoping that maybe at this rate Binghe will get an actually good wife and not just another useless beauty to throw into the harem garden.

Eventually Shen Yuan starts criticizing even the current to-be-wife's name, and so Airplane goes on and asks "Well what would you name her then if you've got so many ideas?" and generally just trying to bait him. It works, and Shen Yuan give a very beautiful name actually that fits her character and background. It is revealed in the next chapters that the name they've known her by so far isn't her real name and her actual name is the one Peerless Cucumber came up with.

The seemingly endless amount of chapters continues and the pretty but scathing wives get added to the harem and the story goes on. However, those wives get brought back out to go on adventures with Binghe and are otherwise reoccurring characters in the story. If one was paying close attention and looking for it, they would notice that the wife makes an appearance after Peerless Cucumber makes a particularly harsh comment or scathing criticism. People take to trying to bait Peerless Cucumber into doing it so they get more of those wives and especially the one he named which is becoming a fan favorite. Fanart gets made of her and people tease Peerless Cucumber about it. He critics all the fanart with his known ruthlessness about canon accuracy.

Some people have dropped it cause they don't want to see Peerless Cucumber get wifified any more, some people get even more invested because of that. A good number of people still don't think Peerless Cucumber is the cosplayer.

It comes to a head with an upcoming con in a few months. Airplane has a panel there. People are also asking if Peerless Cucumber will be going in cosplay. He says he's thinking about it and has some ideas on what character to go as, but is still deciding. Of course people instantly hone in on that and tell him he should go as the wife he practically made. He says no at first, but then Airplane comes on and says he'd really like to see him do that cosplay. Shen Yuan decides to take that opportunity. You see they have met, briefly, in the past at cons, but Airplane always finds a way to bail when Shen Yuan really starts laying into the critiques. Shen Yuan wasn't in cosplay those times and he had a face mask on so he wasn't recognized that way but no one could mistake Peerless Cucumber's reviews. Airplane also doesn't do cons very often, choosing to focus on writing the story instead.

And so, the following conversation occurs in the forum:

Peerless Cucumber: I will if you stop running away from me at cons.

RandomUsernameI'mTooLazyToComeUpWith: oh shit, oh great god airplane do it! do it!

RandomUsernameI'mTooLazyToComeUpWith2: yeah i gotta se this fuck itll be so hot

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: you got a deal. you wear that cosplay and you can say whatever you want for however long you want. it'll even be in character.

RandomUsernameI'mTooLazyToComeUpWith: oh hell yeah!!! whooo!!!

Peerless Cucumber: You better mean that because I will bring printouts with notes and highlighted sections.

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: bring whatevr you want so long as you wear that cosplay.

With that, the PIDW fandom holds even more excitement for the upcoming con because not only with the Great God Airplane be there they'll also get a peerless beauty of a cosplayer in a sexy outfit. The wife in question's outfit isn't the most revealing of the wives because Peerless Cucumber always critiques the practicality of that, but it's still the world of Proud Immortal Demon Way so there is some skin showing.

The con rolls around and the PIDW fans are on the lookout for someone dressed as That Wife. For the first couple days, Shen Yuan makes rounds to booths, not in cosplay, getting merch and volumes as he goes because he has a lot of things to say to Airplane and wants to get the bulk of his shopping done first so they have time and he doesn't hold up the line of people to see Airplane.

On the last day of the con is when he dons his cosplay of That Wife and get his character-accurate bag with the printouts and evidence of Airplane's failing as an author in it. He still makes stops at other booths on his way to the official PIDW one. He gets stopped to take photos and gets compliments on his cosplay. Eventually the PIDW fans find him go even crazier about it. Some say things like "I can't believe it's really you!" and word gets around the PIDW fans that Peerless Cucumber is here and he is in That cosplay and he does look fucking hot. Shen Yuan stays in character of the icy beauty as he interacts with the fans which only fans the flames. Before he even makes it to Airplane's booth he gets swarmed with PIDW fans, some are mean to him and want to knock him off his high-horse, but they get a verbal smackdown from Shen Yuan (still in character) and shoved aside by his own fans who start calling out their online handles asking for Shen Yuan's honest thoughts about them. And he does so either tearing them apart with words, saying they honestly didn't leave enough of an impression for him to even know, and in very rare instances offer some praise.

Shen Yuan finally makes it to the PIDW booth Airplane is at later than he wanted, but he makes it there with an entourage wanting to see the showdown. There are also guys hanging around the booth who have been waiting for this. When Airplane finally sees Shen Yuan in his cosplay, he thinks "Fuck. He's even hotter in person." and is more than happy to listen to all of Shen Yuan's complaints and looking at the highlighted parts of his novel and citations showing how historically inaccurate that is and the discrepancies within his own body of fiction.

Shen Yuan is still going and isn't even close to being done when they announce that the venue is closing and asking for everyone to start making their way out. Shen Yuan glares up at the intercom, still wanting to continue his triad.

"Well, I did say you could keep going however long you wanted so long as you wear that cosplay. I didn't say it had to be at the con," Airplane says, and Shen Yuan looks at him with considering eyes.

"Hmm. That is true, and I still have a lot to go through..."

They end up going to a restaurant for dinner (Shen Yuan's treat), and Shen Yuan continues all through the meal. When he still has more to say when the restaurant says that it's closing, he gets the most expensive suite at the most high-end hotel in the area with his richboy money because that's the only room left with the con going on. Shen Yuan figures that after spending so much time with Airplane today (along with reading so much of his writing) he has a pretty good grasp on the guy and doubts he's gonna get murdered by him so gets the hotel room. Airplane is in awe at all the fancy shit and money that Shen Yuan spends like it's nothing.

They stay in the main living room of the suite where there are couches. Shen Yuan lays his printouts out on the table, and even pulls up webpages on the rooms tv. There are pjs among other items reserved for the high-end rooms. Airplane ends up changing into the pjs and marvels over them being silk. Shen Yuan ditched his shoes and some smaller parts of his cosplay, but keeps the bulk of it on due to the agreement. Despite the dinner, Airplane also snacks on the room's food while Shen Yuan continues his verbal assault.

At one point, though, Airplane interrupts Shen Yuan, clutching his arm, looking at him with tears in his eyes. "Bro... Cucumber-bro... You... You're like an actual angel, dude. I died and this is heaven."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Shen Yuan asks, annoyed at the interruption, he was just about to connect another point.

"The food. This room. The silk pjs. Bro. This is heaven."

"No it's not. And stop crying!"

"Bro..."

Shen Yuan ends up patting his back for awhile while Airplane cries on his shoulder. His hand migrates up to Airplane's head and pats his fluffy head of hair that is actually really soft (Airplane took a shower and made sure his hair looked good since he knows how scathing Shen Yuan is and hot he was gonna look in the cosplay).

They eventually start drinking a some of the alcohol in the suite's fridge, but don't get too drunk. Nothing really happens, but they do end up sleeping in the same bed and cuddling in it because they fell asleep while Shen Yuan was still criticizing him.

The next morning Shen Yuan finally can't take the cosplay and makeup anymore and takes a shower while Airplane sleeps in. Airplane wakes to the sight of Shen Yuan in a hotel bathrobe, finishing drying his hair with his glasses on(he'd been wearing contacts and only switched to his glasses late into the night), and the sunlight from the window shining on him.

"Oh, fuck," Airplane says, staring at him.

"What?" Shen Yuan asks, not sure why Airplane is staring. He's not doing anything weird! He's just drying his hair! There's nothing wrong with wanting a shower after being in that getup for so long! He's just a normal dude right now! What's with that blank stare!?

"It's not just the makeup..." Airplane mumbles and face-plants back onto the bed with a groan. Shen Yuan is left confused, but eventually throws a room service menu on the bed asking what he wants for breakfast.

Before his shower, Shen Yuan had called home and asked his family's butler to bring him a change of clothes because he doesn't want to put all of his cosplay back on. This is why, after breakfast, Airplane sees Shen Yuan dressed in another well-tailored outfit, this time much more modern and male, made up of pale greens and creams looking like he just walked off a fashion runway.

"Brooooo... How do people like you exist?"

They end up exchanging some contact info because even though Shen Yuan talked until they fell asleep, he still has more to say. Airplane does agree to listen and says Shen Yuan only has to be in cosplay for the really harsh stuff.

Clips fans had recorded of Shen Yuan's triad at Airplane at the con get circled around and the PIDW fandom is on fire with it. People are going crazy over it. Shen Yuan's Peerless Cucumber inbox gets flooded with people requesting different cosplays along with sexual jokes and comments. The next chapter of PIDW has a dedication at the top to Peerless Cucumber and thanks. The next arc in the story is about Luo Binghe getting stranded in a place where fighting is outlawed, without any money, strict societal structures, and needing to recover from a battle. The love interest who helps Luo Binghe in his time of need is the daughter of a very wealthy family who starts off as cool and astute that can give a verbal lashing better than anyone is slowly revealed to have a soft spot for Luo Binghe in his weakened state. She takes care of him and even takes to giving him gentle pats on his head. When Binghe ends up getting into a physical fight with one of the villains of the arc, she comes to his defense against the society's court vouching for his good character. They place him in her custody due to her family's good name and she sets him up in a lavish living space with anything he could possibly need. When they find out that the love interest has a younger sister only a few years younger and not just two older brothers, the fans think she's gonna get haremed as well, but, surprisingly, the little sister doesn't join the harem with her elder sister. Peerless Cucumber praises the decision to leave the little sister be, happy that Luo Binghe is finally showing discernment of who to let into the harem.

After a couple more arcs, Airplane posts a notice that says he'll be slowing the pace of updates as he starts planning out the arcs leading up to the end of the story and hopes his fans understand. While the updates do lessen in frequency, the word count of each chapter does not and the quality improves, plot holes being filled and storylines being flushed out.

Within a well-furnished and kept apartment in the city is where Airplane works on all of this having moved there on Shen Yuan's dime when Shen Yuan learned the reason for the atrocious writing was that he was trying to make money to live and had to pander to his readers. The fridge stocked and living space confirmed, Airplane is now able to actually write quality verse the quantity. He even has a brutally honest beta reader who seems to spend more time here than at his family's estate.

While Shen Yuan never says it, Airplane is pretty sure they're dating, even if they aren't that physical with each other other than Shen Yuan running a hand through his hair while he reads, leaning against each other, holding hands when their out "so they don't get separated in the crowd"(there is no crowd Cucumber-bro), a hug when meeting and leaving each other, and the occasional cuddle session when Airplane is having a Time of it or Shen Yuan is dealing with medical issues or Shen Yuan spends the night and they a share the bed. He feels this suspicion is confirmed when Shen Yuan introduces him to his parents and they ask Airplane to take care of their son. So Airplane takes to hugging Shen Yuan more and despite a little grumbling about clinginess, doesn’t stop him and will even pat his head or arm or shoulder or even hug back.

Once PIDW is completed after a harrowing four years, Airplane takes a break to plan out his next story then shocks everyone by writing a fantasy novel featuring two men as the main couple. The writing itself is so different from PIDW with well thought out storylines, character backstories, and complex characters and settings. It gets in the top five on the website it's posted on and Airplane even gets a contract with a publisher. Shen Yuan couldn't be prouder of him.

Shen Yuan still cosplays. He even commissions outfits to be made of Airplane's not yet published characters so Airplane can see how they look irl and Shen Yuan can prove a point that something is not realistic.

They also have a deal that if Shen Yuan is gonna give some especially scathing constructive criticism that Shen Yuan has to wear a cosplay of Airplane's choosing and stay in character for it. It's a good thing that characters that aren't afraid to give a good verbal beatdown are becoming a common occurrence in Airplane's novels.

#scum villian self saving system #svsss #shen yuan #shang qinghua #airplane shooting towards the sky #peerless cucumber #cumplane #no transmigration au #svsss fanfiction prompt #svsss fanfic prompt #do with this what you will

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wongyuseokie · 3 months ago

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Theories & Heartstrings | k.m.g (series masterpost)

p.s please read this entire post mainly because it's long but important. ☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕smut | ♥ completed works Summary: As a writer with a mildly cynical take on love, you’ve always believed people have a “type”—a pattern they never stray from when it comes to dating. And Kim Mingyu? He’s the textbook definition of someone who wouldn’t go for someone like you, nor would you go for him. But you test your theory when a fateful run-in with your charming neighbour sparks an unexpected attraction.

The plan? Go on dates with him and count how many it takes before your heart gets involved—if it ever does. But Mingyu is unpredictable, effortlessly breaking down your carefully constructed walls with every smile, every late-night conversation, every moment that feels too easy to be just an experiment.

The real problem? Secrets never stay secrets for long. And when Mingyu finds out the truth behind your so-called theory, will it prove you right, or that love doesn’t follow the rules you thought it did?

Total Series Word Count: 69,093

Pairings: Neighbor! Mingyu x Journalist! Female Reader

Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Neighbours AU! Fake Dating AU! (but only one is fake dating. It’ll make sense when you read it, lol). Non-Idol AU!

Content Warnings: Strong language, sexual content, injuries (nothing serious, yn is clumsy, and so is Mingyu). Alcohol consumption (a lot of it). Unrequited love (not from Mingyu). Screaming, shouting, some very unnecessary insults and bitchy moments featuring the rest of Seventeen. Best friend Joshua and fellow roommate Wonwoo, and sometimes is a little shit at times, but it's just fiction. Most of Seventeen features here, too, but only a few are particularly snippy with YN, but it’s warranted.

Chapter 1: Love at First Collision WC: 18,732 Chapter 2: Cuddles and Chaos WC: 16,477 Chapter 3: Fucked Up, Still Falling WC: 15,457 Release date: May 15th 2025 Chapter 4: Speaking First and Thinking Much Later WC: 10,645 Chapter 5 & Epilogue: Forever Bonsai'ed WC: 7782

Smut Warnings: there will be plenty of smut, and the specific warnings will be given per chapter <3

Author's Note 1: if you wish to be tagged lmk <3

Author's Note 2: If you haven't seen this post, this fic will be my last fic. Now, who knows if I'll come back one day and be like, nvm, here's a fic, but for now, this is my goodbye present to you all. So I hope you enjoy!! 💕

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the-bloody-ruby · 2 months ago

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Yan!Baldwin IV X Reincarnation!Reader

✎Summary✐ you got reincarnated as Baldwin's wife.

⚠Warnings⚠ historically inaccurate mentions of death, guy of lusignan, racism?(I don't if it counts as racism btw it has nothing to do with skin color).

✎Note✐ reader is a female in this. Author hates this but decided to post it anyway. This is not the actual historical figure but the figure from KoH movie.

✎Tags✐ @jsprien213

✎Part 2✐

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You don't understand how it happened.

How did you end up in Jerusalem?. It's Not our modern day Jerusalem, it's 1181 AD.

From what you understood, you are during the anjou household reign of Jerusalem, most likely during king Baldwin IV time due to Saladin's name being mentioned so it must be around that time. But that's just a guess, if it is true then The king must be about 19 at this point.

When you first opened your eyes you found yourself laying on an a soft mattress, According to who they seemed to be maids, you had fainted while walking through the garden. You do have some blur memories of walking through a grand garden even though you know for sure that you did not walk through such garden ever in your life.

the last thing you remember, that you know that you actually did, that you went to sleep on your bed in your home, that's it. You didn't die while sleeping, did you?.

maybe you somehow took someone's else life, a someone from history none the less. It may sound bazaar but it's the only logical explanation in this unlogical situation.

While you were dozing off, trying to think of a solution to this disaster, The door was pushed wide open. a woman with fine clothing and jewelry enters with servants following her in. "I see you have finally decided to wake up." Her tone was sharp so was her glare.

You stared back at her, not with the same coldness but with confusion. "Who are you..?" You do know that she has to be a noble due to her clothing, but which noble? And why did she visit you? Why is her tone was as if you two know each other?.

She scoffed "It seems like the maids were right, It seems like you actually went mad this time." 'This bitch-' you thought to yourself, you can only say such things in your mind because you don't want to insult someone who might has the power to execute you on the spot. "Who are you?." You ask again, this time with determination.

"Sibylla of Jerusalem." You face went pale, you thought knowing her identify would make you understand the situation better but it only confused you more, why would she visit you?.

You look away, you feel like you're gonna faint again. "Tsk.. Pathetic.." She mumbles as you grip on the bedsheets, she grabs your chin and makes you look directly to blue eyes. "Hold yourself better, you are no common girl, remember that you are queen of Jerusalem, wife to my brother, you are y/n of Jerusalem.. Even if I don't deem you worth of such honour yet here we are.."

You are not sure if she wanted to scold you or mock you, either way her words hurt you even though you don't know why, it just stungs.

"We're having dinner this evening, you should be fine by then." She stated as she turned her to leave. you wanted to protest, you are in no condition to join a stupid dinner. "But-" "absence is unacceptable." she cuts you, she doesn't even bother to turn around to look at you yet her words held a warning in them. With that she finally left you alone.

Now you know whose life you are in, yes life not body because you are 100% sure that this is your own body, whatever. In history her name was forgotten so she's only known as Baldwin's IV wife or the Saracen queen.

Basically Baldwin and her got married to secure an alliance between Jerusalem and some Saracens, and to prevent Saladin from getting anymore power since your people are also in odds with Saladin.

You pity her.

No one cared about her, she was just a tool for her family to gain more power, Jerusalem's court despited her because she is still a filthy Saracen in their eyes and not to mention that king Baldwin IV, her own husband did not spare her a single glance during the entire of their marriage. It's not personal, it's just she's the least of his concerns.

In the end of the day she was executed because she attempted to poison to Sibylla but failed, it is unclear whatever she was truly guilty or framed.

No.. No. You won't die like this.. You won't live like this! You don't want to die with sorrow and tears!.

You won't allow history to repeat itself, you don't care if it's gonna change tomorrow's history or not, you value your happiness more than history that you might not live to see.

If you want a peaceful life, you have two potions.

you earn the King's favor and then you will live peaceful as the queen.

Which you are mostly to take, run away after securing a good amount of money.

Just in case, you're gonna try to secure both plans. You will try to earns his favor while earning enough money to escape.

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Evening came fast.

You didn't want to leave bed but you also didn't want to piss off sibylla so it sucks to suck. Even though you still don't understand, how can she threaten you?! I mean yes she is a princess but you are the queen here for God's sake!. Damn was the old owner this weak that no one respected her title as queen?, however this will change, You didn't die to live again to take bullshit again.

The maids may not be fond of you but they sure did well in dressing you up, you don't like you're about to throw up at any given moment at all But the hard part isn't not looking like you're about to throw up, the hard part is not actually throwing up in front of everyone.

"Come on y/n!." You cheer up on yourself in front of mirror, you were right about the body thing, it is your body. you look like you, not like the actual historical figure (even though there is no surviving portraits of her but okay). 'I'm happy that i didn't lose you, my sweet sexy asf face' you wink at yourself before someone's voice interpreted your flirting session with yourself. "What are you doing?." God.. Why can't they leave you the fuck alone?. First Sibylla, now this?.

"wHaT aRe YoU dOiNg?." You repeat mockingly before turning around only to see Baldwin IV in flesh and blood standing in front of you, you recognized him easily due to the mask. Your face went paler then it went with sibylla, why is God doing this to you? You are praying for the ground to open in half and sallow you.

His blue eyes just stared into yours, it felt like he is staring right through your soul. "..." He didn't mutter a word, You don't know what he is thinking but whatever it is, it doesn't seems like something you want to know about.

You wanted to cry, really. But not in front of him because it would only worsen the situation, after all you just mocked a king.

"..."

It's been quite the few minutes, he didn't say anything yet. 'You know what? I already ate shit so let's just walk away and pretend that nothing has happened.. Maybe he will just ignore it and then I'll get to keep my head..' You thought to yourself.

You proceeded your plan and it actually worked! He let you walk away although you felt his eyes still watching you like a hawk.

Dinner was as awkward as you'd expect. You tried your best to just focus on your platte and ignore everyone else on the table. "Are you alright?." It's Sibylla, even though her words seems out of concern, her voice holds no kindness to it.

You looked up from your plate, you stare back at her but this time with more confidence since the last time you two spoke. "Yes, I am fine." You replied to her question with a calm yet confident note.

That caused sybilla to stare at you. You have never acted like this before, you were always quiet and shy, never once you looked right into her eyes with such directness.

"I heard that you fainted in the gardens today. you should look out for your health more your Highness... It would be a shame if you become so sickly like someone we know.." Said the man who is seated next to Sibylla, who you assume is guy of lusignan.

At his words Baldwin looked up at him, that caused guy to shift uncomfortably in his seat, he hated everything about Baldwin, especially his blue eyes when they stared right through his soul.

'God.. It's so awkward...' You thought before deciding to gamble with fate again. "Your majesty.. Your food will get cold.. Please eat." You hold his gloved hands in yours as you tried to give the kindest smile you could manage. He moved his eyes from guy's to yours before he pulled his hands away and continued his meal.

That went as smooth as possible.. You could feel Sibylla's glare but you couldn't care less, what matters now is to earn Baldwin's favor.

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Im back from the dead 💪🏻.

Idk if you guys will like this but enjoy and if you got any notes for me then go ahead 💃🏻.

#king baldwin x reader #yandere baldwin iv #yandere historical characters #yandere king #baldwin iv #king baldwin iv #yandere history #kingdom of heaven

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sorin-sunchild · 4 months ago

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I know it's petty but just blocked someone for making a post where the tag was 'trans mascs do better'. The content of the post you ask? Complimenting trans femmes on making good music.

Now, all art is subjective. You don't have to like any music by any trans person. But also, since art is subjective, it's weird to make a statement which suggests that all trans mascs who make music are not making good music. Why is that? Because they happen to be trans masc so you assume it's bad, or because they happen to post in genres you dislike, or because they just personally aren't making songs you like? Mentioning their gender and whether they were cis or trans isn't needed unless you have hang ups about trans mascs in general for being trans masc. Comes off as weird and competative.

Also, you can make a post which compliments trans femmes/trans women etc without tagging on something which insults trans mascs/trans men. It's easy, just don't talk about anyone except the group you intend to compliment. Sliding in a jab at trans mascs actually makes the compliment sound a little less sincere, like it was just a gateway into that jab and not an actual compliment with substance.

That's a good philosophy for anything, actually. Just compliment the one group. Don't have to tack on an insult or derision to another deemed 'opposite' in some respect. It's just that easy. Everything a trans person does isn't a secret competition with a trans person of a different gender.

It's a very minor thing, but so unnecessary and a peek into a mindset I just cannot deal with in this day and age.

#we need #trans unity #now more than ever why even take these small petty jabs at each other #childish if you ask me #transandrophobia #<- of the mildest degree #and I feel like I'm saying this a lot lately but if you pissed on the poor reading this #no I'm not saying this is the 'worst thing trans mascs have to go through'

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twoflowers · 3 months ago

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Best Behavior- Sanji x Reader (Explicit)

Here's my contribution to InfixOP's One Piece x Reader fic exchange. This is for @mere-mortifer, who I hope enjoys it and forgives me for the late posting date. I don't know why or how this is so long, but I loved writing it.

Prompt: Forced proximity when sleeping due to extremely cold weather outside leads to cuddling, which leads to kissing, which leads to sex. Bonus points if Reader has to almost beg Sanji to share a sleeping bag/bed/whatever with them because Sanji doesn't want to make them uncomfortable while trying to sleep, meanwhile he's the one freezing in the open air. Even more bonus points if they have to be very careful and quiet while having sex cause someone else might hear them.

Description: Sanji has been more reserved in his affection recently. Being stranded in the cold and forced to share a sleeping bag may be just the remedy.

Rating: Explicit

Tags: sub!Sanji, virgin!Sanji, gentle femdom, first time, getting together, forced proximity, biting, (attempted) oral sex, worship, praise kink. Reader is described as a cis woman but there are no other references to her appearance.

Read on AO3.

Word Count: 9k+

Best Behavior

It takes a fifteen mile hike up a steep, cliffside trail in weather so cold your fingertips turn blue to realize that your sleeping bag and tent have been replaced with several large beef shanks.

It’s a miserable night. You’re separated from most of your crew, and all of your crewmates with a functioning sense of direction. Rain has soaked through your shoes to make your socks squelch with every step, and your coat is doing little to stave off the chill. Both of your coats, actually, because Sanji has long abandoned his suit jacket to drape it over your shoulders. You let him do it solely because he looked more miserable with it than without it; you look at him now, swearing and shivering pitifully as he attempts to start a campfire in the clearing that the four of you have decided to camp out in, and feel a pang of guilt. He looks back up at you with a smile so beatific you almost forget that you were about to commit murder.

“Luffy,” you breathe. You keep breathing, loudly: you’ve figured out breathing exercises for just about every form of Luffy-induced rage or anxiety imaginable. “Luffy, what is this?”

Luffy is standing on the opposite side of the clearing with Zoro, who is searching for sake amidst the myriad bags he insisted on carrying up the mountain as training. Luffy leans towards you with wide-eyed curiosity, which quickly turns into wide-eyed joy as he sees your bag.

“Oh, meat! That’s where you went!” He beams, throwing an arm to hook onto a tree behind you. It twangs cartoonishly like an overstretched rubber band; Luffy hurdles towards you at top speed, whooping like a maniac - and lands directly into Sanji’s outstretched foot.

“You idiot!” Sanji scolds Luffy, now laying on the floor and nursing a large bump on his head. “How dare you take her sleeping bag? She’s freezing! Apologize!”

“Sorry…” Luffy whines petulantly, still rubbing his head.

“Now give her yours!”

“Eh? I didn’t bring mine.”

“You didn’t-” Sanji stops, rubs his temple, and turns to you. “It’s okay, angel, I’m sure the marimo can spare his. If you can stand the body odor, that is.”

“Huh?” Zoro is in the middle of getting situated, sword carriers arranged carefully against a rock, wet haramaki loosened. “Why don’t you give her yours, shit cook?”

“I need to avoid frostbite or you’ll die within a day when Luffy cleans out the food stores.”

Zoro scoffs. “Nobody wants to touch your sleeping bag anyways. Who knows what you’ve done to the thing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sanji and Zoro dissolve into a blur of motion lines. Over the kicks and grunts and shouted insults you hear the smacking of lips and look down to see Luffy eating meat out of your bag with the desperation of a starving street dog. You glare at him for good measure; he doesn’t seem to notice.

You take the opportunity to sneak to Zoro’s area to continue the search for that sake. It’s freezing and you need something to warm you, if there isn’t fire or dry clothing or a sleeping bag. The first bag you check is suspiciously heavy, and you open it to find… rocks.

The second bag is also full of rocks, and so is the third. You take a very deep breath before stomping over to the fight to clock both Zoro and Sanji over the skull, a skill you’ve been developing for months under Nami’s careful tutelage. (It really is difficult to estimate where their heads are at any given point, but it’s really more of a gut feeling than anything.)

“Stop fighting!” You shout down at them. Sanji immediately apologizes, looking very honored to have been hit by you. You pretend that it doesn't send a shockwave of pure want through you and continue on, scowling down at Zoro.

“What the fuck did you do with the supplies?”

“Huh?” Zoro glares up at you. “The cook brought them.”

“Mine! I brought mine!” Sanji pokes a finger right into Zoro’s forehead. “And my precious angel’s, but someone decided to replace her things with food!”

He wheels around to Luffy, who’s shoved an entire bone into his mouth to suck on, cheeks stretched absurdly to accommodate it. Blankly, he spits out the bone, and it shoots over to hit Sanji square in the nose, and Sanj springs up to slug him again.

You love the boys, really, but moments like these are why you rely on Nami and Robin to keep you semi-sane. Every man on the crew is somehow a complete idiot, even Sanji. Woefully, this is a huge part of the appeal. He’s a complete fool and you adore him for it, drooling, nosebleeds, and all.

The fighting winds down just as your shivering reaches an intolerable level. Your teeth are bashing against each other and nicking your lips. Distantly, you’re counting down the minutes until you inevitably get hypothermia, and the boys don’t look like they’re faring much better. Luffy sees you shivering and you watch in real-time as his neurons fire just enough for him to realize that it is, in fact, incredibly cold outside. He immediately shrieks and wraps his arms around himself like a weird, rubbery coat.

Besides the rocks and food, Sanji is the only person who managed to bring actual supplies. Between the four of you, there are two tents, one sleeping bag, and four packaged emergency blankets.

“Okay,” you huff. “Okay.” Your arm spasms with cold as you point to the tents. “How do we want to do this?”

“Of course, angel, you get the sleeping bag,” Sanji assures you, smacking Luffy as he tries to protest.

“Men to one tent, woman to the other?” You suggest, knowing that Sanji will take issue with it.

“But angel, there could be wolves!” Sanji looks profoundly worried. His bangs are windswept back, and you get the full effect of his pout with both eyes visible. “You need someone to stand guard. I can-”

“Sanji, it’s practically sub-zero. You need to be inside a tent, and all of us need to get our clothes off as soon as possible.”

Sanji gulps, wind-chapped cheeks somehow flushing even redder. His gaze traces down your body and turns dazed: you aren’t sure how, given that you’re drenched and wearing a shapeless jacket. Ugh, what a sweetheart. The abstract concept of you taking your clothes off in a separate tent is getting him all hot and bothered.

It’s a relief.

Recently, Sanji has been downright distant, by his standards. Still doting, of course; still appearing every few hours with a special drink and snack for you. Still overusing pet names and offering to be your knight and making sure you and the other women get the best of the best of everything.

But the opportunistic touches to the lower back have vanished. His eyes barely linger when you wear a low-cut shirt. You haven’t even seen him have a nosebleed in a while.

You wonder idly how your love-life got to the point of you eagerly awaiting being perved on, but one glance at Sanji vanishes those thoughts. You know exactly how you got here: you thrilled at meeting this tall man with his lovely long legs and thin waist and broad shoulders, his large, careful hands, tapered chin and well-kempt facial hair and slight youthful roundness clinging stubbornly to his cheeks despite his manly man act. You were completely gone after learning that he essentially devoted his life to the pleasure of women, called you miss and blushed when pushed around and followed pretty girls blindly like a lost puppy, and all without an ounce of irony or malicious intent. The Straw Hats- all of them- are so sincere that it still blindsides you sometimes.

And after two years apart, seeing him mature… Muscles and jawline more defined, a bit more hardened, a bit more world-weary but still as kind and giving and genuine and lovely as ever… His reaction to seeing you essentially topless after that time apart was very charmingly him, even if it snowballed into recurrent bleeding episodes necessitating a well-stocked blood bank aboard the ship.

As bad as it sounds, you miss the attention. You like encouraging that side of Sanji.

You look around you at the pathetic campsite and measly supplies and think that maybe fate has blessed you with a good hand indeed.

“Luffy and I could share a tent, but then you and Zoro would be together…” You say it like you haven’t already done the mental math and gotten the exact result you want, like you aren’t already internally whooping in victory. “I don’t want to break up any more fights.”

Sanji glances rapidly between you and the other men.

“And now that you mention it, I’m not sure if anybody should be left alone tonight. We should pair off for safety. Like you said, there might be wolves.” You look up, pursing your lips in thought. “Zoro and I could share.”

Sanji sputters immediately, stepping forward to cast a protective arm between you and Zoro. “No! No way! There’s no telling what that animal might try! My angel, n-n- undressed in front of that brute-!”

The two men are forehead to forehead at this point, and you quickly grab Sanji by the collar of his rain-soaked shirt and haul him backwards. He goes willingly, but his glare remains fixed on Zoro… until you stroke the back of his neck with your thumb and he flushes and slumps towards you, deactivated.

“Or you and I could share, Sanji.”

He looks at you like you’ve just said something incomprehensible. His eyes slowly drift to your neck, then snap quickly back up. You flutter your lashes and Sanji goes scarlet.

“Would that work? I’ll just get changed in the sleeping bag.”

“Abababa-” Sanji babbles.

“And you can protect me?”

“Hahh-” Sanji makes a punched out sound and looks upwards as if imploring some deity for help. He clears his throat and pushes his bangs back. When he looks back at you the flush comes back full-force, and he has to look to the ground before he nods, twice.

“Perfect.” You clap your hands together. “Please tell me one of you knows how to set up a tent. Not Luffy.”

Despite the biting cold, despite the numb fingers that can barely function to hold the pegs that secure the tents to the ground, you are a very happy camper. Sanji is moving with a manic efficiency that you hope is a good sign. He alternates between staring at you unblinkingly and pretending not to look at you while shooting desperate, furtive glances. This is your favorite Sanji, the one who’s wrecked by the mere idea of a woman being anything resembling familiar with him. Roping him into close quarters may be the perfect solution to the recent distance.

Or, you think with a frown, he might be put off by the whole situation. If asked two years ago you would have declared Sanji incredibly easy to read; recently, you’re not so sure what he’s thinking.

Still, your mind is flooded with all sorts of delicious images: Sanji furtively touching himself in the tent next to you, blanket stuffed into his mouth to stifle his whines, or Sanji accidentally finding a pair of your used underwear in his sleeping area and being unable to resist temptation. There’s an idea you go back to again and again, inspired by one time months ago that Sanji visibly licked his lips when you mentioned needing to wash your intimates.

The rain slows just as the tents are set up. Sanji finally manages to start a small fire in the clearing, and everyone strips their top layers to dry on logs overnight. You distribute the emergency blankets and watch Luffy’s eyes dazzle in wonder at their metallic sheen. You can’t help but smile softly at him: of course near death by hypothermia is just another big adventure to him.

You warm up to the best of your ability by the fire before taking Sanji’s sleeping bag and scrambling into the tent before the cold catches you. Your shorts, underwear, and tank top are soaked completely through and you’re so cold and exhausted that you don’t have an hour to spare to get dry by the measly fire.

You can’t help but think about Zoro’s earlier words as you unzip the sleeping bag and line it with a blanket. Who knows what he’s done to the thing… Your shivering reaches new heights and you quickly strip to your underwear, crawl into the bag, and zip it up, wiggling to get comfortable and listening to the blanket make awkward crinkling noises around you.

You lie in the dark waiting for Sanji, listening to Luffy loudly get ready for bedtime and recount the story of today to Zoro, who grunts in return. They’re on the opposite side of the fire from your tent, but Luffy’s laughter rings throughout the clearing. If there are wolves, you think, they’ll probably be scared away.

You sit up after about fifteen minutes. You can see Sanji’s shadow through the tent, sitting in front of the fire with his knees drawn to his chest. You wriggle to the entrance and unzip it slightly, peeking out at Sanji as he huddles miserably in his wet undershirt and boxers.

“Sanji, come here. You need to get out of those clothes and into a blanket.”

Sanji turns to you, nodding absently. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He turns back to the fire and takes a few deep, steady breaths, as though preparing himself. Paired with the sparks flying up into the clear, starry night he almost looks like he’s performing some kind of spell. His hands clench into fists and unclench, and then he stands up to enter the tent.

You scoot backwards to give him room, but the action inadvertently makes the sleeping bag slip down. Sanji lets out an eep and covers his eyes with a hand, the other thrown out in front of him like a shield.

“Angel, your modesty!” He squeaks, waving his hand around helplessly. “I’m sorry!”

Is Sanji passing up an opportunity to swoon over a naked woman?

“Sanji, it’s no big deal. It was an accident.” You get back into a lying position while Sanji stutters and tries to find his blanket with a hand shielding his eyes. “Modesty doesn’t count for much when the alternative is hypothermia.”

“Ah- but, but-” He trips over your pile of clothes and peeks between his fingers to see your bra dangling from his foot, then squeaks and shakes it free. “But it’s-” He looks up and sees that you’re fully covered, and takes his hand from his face.

“But it’s improper.”

His lip is quivering in misery. His wet hair seems to sag even further down his forehead. You notice that at some point he’s put an unlit cigarette between his teeth, and he gnaws at it viciously as his eyes nearly well with tears.

You’re not sure whether to laugh or cry along with him. “Sanji, you’ve seen me naked before. In the shower? When the lock broke? Remember?”

He nods, the spitting image of a puppy watching his bag of treats sink to the bottom of the ocean.

“And you got a nosebleed and told me I had the most beautiful body in the world? Ringing any bells?”

Sanji’s lip quivers harder, and he shakes his head, then nods. “But I-”

“So what’s with the sudden change of heart, huh?” Your eyes soften as you look at Sanji… Soggy, pitiful, desperate Sanji. “You’re shaking. Get your shirt off.”

Sanji gulps. You admire his Adam’s apple and his sculpted neck. How is it fair that a man this beautiful is also the sweetest man in the world?

You roll over to give Sanji some privacy, and hear him peeling his wet shirt from his body. You let yourself lick your lips because you’re feeling quite self-indulgent now that you’re out of the freezing cold and marginally warmed by the fire, blanket, and sleeping bag. When you hear Sanji unfolding his blanket, you clear your throat.

“Can I turn back over?”

“Ah. Yes. You’re okay now, angel.”

You roll back over and grin at the sight of Sanji’s head peeking out from above his foil blanket. His shirt is folded and placed at a respectful distance from your things; presumably, he’s still wearing wet boxers.

“Warm?”

“Warmer,” he smiles, and leans towards you to appraise your sleeping situation. “And you? Are you warm enough? If not, I can give you my blanket and sit back by the fire.”

“I’ve already taken your sleeping bag, Sanji. I don’t want you to actually die here.”

Sanji’s smile melts across his face, soft and sweet and wobbly. “Ah, my angel cares about me!”

“Of course I do.” You smile up at him from your bundle, and he tucks a hand under his chin to better gaze at you adoringly.

“You look so snug, all tucked in…”

For some reason, this makes you shiver with desire. You’ll never get enough of being fussed over and cooed at like a baby duckling. Sanji has seen you stumble into the kitchen, hungover and in last night’s makeup and has reacted by pressing a hand over his heart like he was ready to melt through the floor. He makes you feel unconditionally adored; more than that, he seems to adore you even more under what you think are the worst possible conditions.

A companionable silence ensues. You can hear the sporadic popping of the fire outside and the whistling of Luffy snoring. You drift off a bit; Sanji puts up a valiant fight, but when you wake up to hear the rain starting up again, he’s asleep.

You see the fire die out and huddle your blanket closer to you. Sanji shivers.

“Sanji?”

His blanket crumples as he stirs. “Hm?”

“You’re cold, huh?”

You can faintly see him shake his head. “No, angel. Don’t worry about me.”

“I do worry about you. I worry about you a lot.”

There’s a beat. “...Thank you. I’m honored.”

You glance over and blink a few times, eyes adjusting to the darkness and allowing you to make out Sanji’s trembling outline.

“Sanji, come over here.”

He audibly swallows, but obeys, scooting close and leaning down enough that the fog of his breath is visible.

“Come in here with me.”

His breath disappears for a few long seconds. You can see enough of his face to get the impression that his eyes are darting rapidly from you to the sleeping bag and back again, and you reach your hand out into the night air and slip it under his jaw. He makes a sound like a deflating tire.

“I- you mean-” He reflexively reaches up to his lips; not finding a cigarette, he places his hand briefly over yours and then flinches away like it burns. “Come in where?”

“Sanji, you’re cold. There’s space, really.” You scoot backwards to demonstrate, grabbing his hand and slipping it into the sleeping bag. “See?”

“But the-th-” he chokes, feeling around in the empty space beside you. “Not much space, there’s- really, there’s hardly any space, and-” He shivers, head to toe.

“Please,” you whisper. “I’m cold, too… Really cold, and I need you to help.”

Sanji gasps, hand reaching out past the empty space to connect with your shoulder. “Is that true, angel? Is that true? You need me?”

“Yes, I really do. Could you-?” You reach out to gently tug his arm. He doesn’t resist at all- you don’t think Sanji could ever resist being manhandled by a woman- but he’s stiff and emanates hesitance as he’s pulled towards you.

“Angel, I’m not decent.”

For a moment you think he’s being self-deprecating, but you quickly remember that neither of you are wearing anything but underwear. The thought makes your stomach clench. All that skin against skin, the possibility of feeling the warmth of Sanji’s body tucked right against yours...

“Neither am I.”

Sanji draws in a harsh breath. He brings a hand to his nose to check for blood. It comes back clear, and he exhales shakily and gently places his hand on your head. His fingers twitch as they settle into your hair.

“And I’m so happy that you trust me enough to allow me near you when you’re vulnerable,” he says with great effort. “But I don’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable. I don’t want to… react in a way that makes you uncomfortable.”

Heat blossoms between your legs, radiates to your belly and chest until you’re almost dizzy with it. But once the initial burn subsides, his comment gives you pause.

It’s not that Sanji hasn’t cared about your comfort in the past: of course he has. He cares very much about you being well-fed and relaxed. He’s offered to clean your room, do all of your laundry, carry you any time you seem even slightly tired. But he’s also, on multiple occasions, coyly lifted his blanket to invite you to snuggle on the couch, eyelashes fluttering. He’s assured you his bunk is always available to share after you have a night of poor sleep. He’s offered massages and manicures and haircuts and baths together, always with earnest eagerness to please and enough puppy dog desperation to make it toothless.

It does sting a bit that he isn’t immediately jumping into bed with you.

Sanji’s hand is still in your hair and you can feel that it is shaking from a combination of cold and nerves. You wish you could see his face. You’re sure whatever expression of profound shame he’s making is very charming.

You decide you need to do something. If Sanji is going to dial down his advances, you need to dial yours up until you reach equilibrium.

“You mean you think you’ll get aroused?”

His hand jerks away from your head; he jolts back with a squeak. “Angel-! That’s- That’s such a crude word-!”

“But it’s true, isn’t it? You’re worried about how you’ll react if we sleep together?”

Sanji is breathing like he’s overheating. He nods shamefully. “I’m sorry! I know it’s wrong of me. I just… I can’t control it sometimes. Especially around beautiful ladies. And you’re not…” He gulps. “You’re not wearing anything right now, and… We would be touching.”

“We would be,” you agree. “But skin-to-skin contact is very effective for warming up. Sanji, if you’d rather I send you to cuddle with Zoro, I will. I want you to warm up. Just because you could spend the night shivering in a blanket in only wet underwear doesn’t mean you should have to. We’re nakama. I want you to be cozy. With me.”

“Cozy…?” He repeats vaguely. He shifts closer, close enough that his knee knocks into yours. “With you?”

“With me.”

You sit up, making sure to pull the sleeping bag with you so your breasts are covered, and unzip the side. “Now get in here. I’m freezing my ass off and I know you are, too. We can lay back to back or something.”

“Princess…” He says helplessly, but his legs are already slipping into the sleeping bag.

You make room for him. He keeps the blanket wrapped around him and you’re feeling frustrated, sexually and emotionally; you’re cold and nervous and desperate for reassurance that he also wants to touch you.

“Can you put the blanket on top of me, too?” You reach out to Sanji, who’s halfway into the sleeping back, and tug lightly on the little cocoon he’s made around himself. “That way we can both have two blankets and be skin-to-skin. For minimal heat loss.”

You smile when Sanji practically rips the blanket off of himself and tuck it over you, then slips quickly next to you to get out of the cold.

You’re side to side now. Sanji’s entire bare arm is against your bare arm. You hope you aren’t breathing too loudly, but even if you are, Sanji is surely drowning you out: he’s practically huffing.

“Can you zip us up?” You turn your back to Sanji. He seems to be having a hard enough time already, and jumping straight into cuddling while practically naked might spook him.

“Yeah… yeah.” He turns so that he’s on his side, a slight gap between your backs, and zips up the sleeping bag.

It feels so final, like he’s closing the boundary between the outside world and the place where the two of you are lying, and you can feel the heat between your legs ramping up in intensity. The space between your back and his feels charged with potential.

You lie in silence for a few moments. Sanji asks if you’re comfortable and you tell him that you are. A few times you attempt to subtly press your back into Sanji’s, but he’s apparently migrated as far to the other side of the sleeping bag as possible.

“Sanji?”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he says, but sounds unsure. You worry your thumb over your lips.

“You’ve been distant lately. Touching me less, being less… Well, eager, I guess. Normally, I would have expected you to be very excited about a girl inviting you to share a sleeping bag. Is everything okay between us?”

“Yes! Yes, of course everything’s okay! I promise, if there was any problem, I’d fix it right away!” Sanji shifts to the best of his ability so he’s lying on his back, speaking right into your ear. “I’m trying to be better…”

“Better?”

“I know I can be a bit much. Sometimes I get so excited about being around you ladies that I can forget my manners, and it’s… Unbecoming of a gentleman. And you deserve a gentleman. You deserve nothing less than the best.”

You can’t help but laugh. You’d been so worried that Sanji was pulling away, or that his recent behavior was how Sanji acted around a girl he wasn’t romantically interested in. You realize that you’re so used to Sanji’s love sonnets and borderline ogling and gentle touches to the small of your back that normal behavior, or anything closer to normal behavior from him, puts you on high alert. Anything less than over the top feels like a rejection.

“Sanji, that’s it? Really? You’re not-” You turn so that you’re on your side, hands crossed over your breasts to avoid getting too close too fast. “You’re not… I don’t know, disinterested?”

“Disinterested?” Sanji sounds horrified. “My princess, I could never be! Have I been making you feel neglected? Please tell me I haven’t!”

“I mean, a little bit? I know you’ve probably gotten negative feedback, but with me… I like it when you’re yourself. You don’t need to tone it down.”

Sanji seems to realize that the front of your body is pressed flush against his side. He gasps an exhale but doesn’t pull away, and you let yourself even closer, gently hooking a foot between his legs.

“You can’t mean that,” Sanji mutters. “Can you?”

“You’re not too much for me,” you say, and it’s such an understatement. You adore Sanji, completely, but aren’t sure how to verbalize it (I love you, I want to keep you, I need to hold your hand constantly and play with your hair, I want you to beg for a taste of me and then slobber all over my pussy-?). “I like the attention.”

“You really do?” He leans closer. You can feel his breath on your lips. “I can give you more attention. So much more, if you’ll let me. Please. I want to make you happy.”

“You do make me happy. But right now, what would make me even happier is if you let me cuddle you.”

“Hah- are you-? Cuddle? As in-?”

“I want you to be warm.”

“Angel, I’m very warm right now. That’s the problem.”

And you can’t control yourself, because really, the way he sounds tortured is so delicious, and his breath is so hot and he smells like cigarettes and rain and his arm is pressing right against you, elbow to your ribs. You lean forward and kiss him.

Sanji is stock-still. You don’t relent. You slip a hand up to cup his jaw, move your lips against his: they’re so soft you can’t help but lick at them, and Sanji lets out a noise halfway between a moan and a cry of distress.

You pull away and feel Sanji’s breathing start up again after a few seconds.

“Am I dreaming?” He mutters. “Do I have hypothermia? The cold is getting to me and I’m dreaming, right?”

His hand cups your shoulder like he’s trying to convince himself that you’re solid, actually there. His fingers move to stroke wondrously down your arm. Those big, careful hands that you’ve admired for years are every bit as gentle as you’ve always imagined.

“Do you dream about me often?” You aim for teasing but end up choking the words out, because his hand is getting dangerously low.

“Yes. God, yes…” Sanji rolls to face you, and your chest presses right against his, and you feel him jolt like he was electrocuted. “God, oh my god, angel, is this okay? Is this-” He cups your cheek and strokes your face from eyebrow to chin and leans forward so he’s breathing right into your mouth.

“It’s okay.” You lean into his touch to encourage him.

“It’s okay,” he repeats, sounding awed. “Can I-? May I-?”

He leans forward and tentatively brushes his lips against yours. He gasps into your lips, pulling slightly away before placing a series of small smooches around your mouth. It’s so achingly sweet and shy and lovely and you respond by stroking your foot up his calf. You can feel his leg hair and are so inexplicably endeared by him that you chase down his lips again and kiss him long and slow.

Sanji seems inexperienced but is a quick study: he lets you lead. Your hand settles comfortably on his face and you take the opportunity to stroke his goatee. You refuse to squander this opportunity to explore by touch as much of him as possible. He makes a pleased little humming sound and it makes your heart jump in your chest. You need to get more noises out of him, need him falling apart in your arms in this sleeping bag on this mountain right now.

You lick at the seam of his lips and he opens his mouth immediately, a bit too widely. You’re dizzy with affection and then with pure lust as he presses his tongue against yours. It’s wet and messy and he groans into your mouth and you love it.

You’re struck with the need to find out how Sanji will behave if given free rein. You bury your hand into his hair and allow your lips to go pliable against his. He licks into your mouth exploratorily, humming in pure pleasure at every new angle he tries kissing you from. You scratch his scalp and he redoubles his efforts, rolling over to slot a knee between your legs so he’s hovering slightly above you. His hard cock presses against your hip and you nearly black out.

You pull away to catch your breath, and Sanji collapses to bury his face into your neck.

“Was that good? Is this okay? I want to- I’ve been trying to- to be good for you.” He huffs the words into your neck, his warm breath on your skin. His facial hair is scratching you and you adore it, need so much more of it, are secretly hoping it leaves marks.

“It’s good. Sanji, it’s so good, you’re being so good for me.” You stroke his hair and he responds with a bitten off moan and a kiss to the crook of your neck. “Such a good boy for me.”

Sanji’s hips jerk unbidden, and he lets out a small, embarrassed whimper as his cock grinds into you. Before you can praise that noise and try to get more out of him, he pushes himself up and away from you, supporting himself on shaking arms.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” He mutters. His voice is trembling; he sounds completely destroyed. “Inappropriate of me, I… I should’ve controlled myself…”

“Sanji!” You’re incredulous. “You’re apologizing for being turned on?”

“I don’t want to take advantage-”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t get a boner from making out with me!” You reach up and put your hands on his sides and yes, yes, he feels just as incredible as you’ve always dreamed. Soft skin, hardened planes of muscle, a dappling of goosebumps that spread as you run your hands up to his chest and stroke from his breastbone across his pecs. “Your nipples are hard, too…”

“Angel, please–!”

You run a thumb around his left nipple and he trembles like his arms are about to give out.

“You don’t like when I tease you?” You coo. Since when do you coo? That’s a special tone, one reserved for fantasies of how exactly you’d treat Sanji.

Your heart slams in your chest as the totality of this moment settles in. This is like one of your fantasies, exactly like one of your fantasies, and you intend to live it out to its fullest.

“I like it-!” His hips buck, erection grazing your stomach. “I really like it, please– Please, I can’t– I’m trying to be good! I haven’t even–” A delicious whimper. “-Even taken you on a date yet, and I wanted to–”

Your hand stills. Sanji sighs in relief, or disappointment, or both.

“Do you not want to do this right now?” You ask. “You can say no and I won’t be mad at all, Sanji. I don’t want to pressure you.”

“Pressure me?” He repeats in a sort of hysterical whisper. “I’m worried about pressuring you! You were so cold earlier, and scared, and I’m supposed to be protecting you! Not–” He swallows.

“Not having sex with me?”

“Having–?” He gasps, and apparently gives up on supporting himself entirely, sinking down so his elbows meet the floor. It inadvertently presses his hard cock snug against you, but you decide to politely wait for him to process this turn of events before doing something stupid like grabbing his ass and dragging his hips against yours. You knew that if you ever did propose sex to Sanji it would at the very most kill him and at the very least render him inoperable for a while.

“I–I– my beloved, my goddess, please forgive me,” he breathes into your neck. “I must have misheard you.”

“I said ‘having sex with me,’” you repeat, gently patting his back to help him through this trying time. “That’s not what you expected tonight, huh?”

“No!” He shakes his head vigorously. “No! Having– making love to you would be the greatest honor, my angel! But I don’t have ulterior motives, I promise!”

You don’t mention that he’s laying flush against you with his boner pressing inches from your soaking wet pussy.

“Tell me to leave and I will!” He sobs. “I can go back outside and guard your tent from there. If the wolves come, they can take me! They don’t deserve meat as pure as yours…”

“Sanji!” You can’t keep the smile out of your voice. “Sanji, what the hell? What’s wrong with you? Nobody’s asking you to be self-sacrificial! We’re literally just camping.”

He peeks up at you, and you can feel his pout spiritually despite the darkness.

“Should I ignore that you just compared me to meat?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–!”

“And you’re not the only one capable of having ulterior motives.”

“...Huh?”

“Sanji, I wasn’t scared of the wolves. And I don’t actually need you protecting me. I wouldn’t be on the crew if I couldn’t fend for myself- uh,uh-!” You reach up and put a hand over his mouth as he starts to protest. “I know you don’t want me to have to. I know that, Sanji! But I wouldn’t die if I slept in a tent ten feet away from yours. I said those things because I wanted to share a tent with you. I wanted to be intimate with you. I’ve wanted it for a really long time.”

Hand still clamped over Sanji’s mouth, you can feel his breath stop. If he was still when you kissed him, he’s a statue now, hovering motionless above you. You take your hand away in case you’re suffocating him, and it works: he starts panting like he’s letting off heat.

“Darling, you mean that? You mean it?”

“Yes, of course I mean it. Sanji, you’re the sweetest person I know, and I really care about you. And you drive me completely insane, I mean…” You stroke his cheek with your thumb, up and down. “The pet names and the declarations of devotion and all that. It’s not every day an incredibly attractive man treats me like a queen.”

Sanji gasps and turns his face to kiss the palm of your hand again and again. “You deserve nothing less. You deserve the world– A-Attractive–? You really think so?”

“Very attractive. Such a cute boy…”

Sanji’s head falls down to your shoulder, and he kisses at your neck with a desperation that surprises you, sweet, chaste pecks quickly turning into long, wet drags of his lips. “Thank you,” he gasps. “You’re so beautiful, you’re so good to me–”

“Oh, Sanji…” You moan, and Sanji moans with you, right into your neck. His hot breath against your neck makes your pussy throb; your thighs clench involuntarily and you know that Sanji feels it, because he stills for a moment before wetly kissing your collarbone.

“Did that feel good? I’m making you feel good?”

“Sanji, you’re incredible, you’re doing perfectly–” You bury your hand in his hair and pull his head insistently to your jaw, and he yields immediately, allowing himself to be manhandled with a small, happy whine.

“My princess, my love, let me worship you…” He kisses a line under your jaw, then moves down the column of your neck. The damp patches he leaves cool almost immediately, and the chill makes you want more of his warm, bare body against you. You loop your hands around his back and tug him into you, chest to chest.

“Keep me warm,” you murmur. “Need to feel your skin against mine.”

“Oh…” He sounds reverent. “I’ll keep you warm. I’ll take care of you. What do you need? Please tell me. You can order me around or– or pull me like you did. I want you to take what you need from me.”

“God, Sanji, you’re incredible… Can you bite my neck?”

“Bite you?” His hands settle uncertainly on your shoulders. “Angel, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“No, no, it’s not about hurting. It feels good for me. Just light bites, Sanji. You won’t hurt me, I promise.”

“Gentle? I can be gentle?”

“Yes, yes, that’s a good start– oh–” You’re cut off by the first exploratory nibble to the base of your neck. You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging, and he hums and bites again, slightly harder.

“Oh, god–” You gasp, abandoning any effort at holding back. Sanji responds like a man starved at any reaction he can get out of you, lavishing your neck in attention and readjusting to target sensitive areas.

“I’m not hurting you?” He barely manages to ask it, he’s so breathless.

“No, no, keep going– You can touch me.” You grab his hands and guide them away from your shoulders.

“God– please, please–” He palms your sides, just below your breasts, and you can feel that his hands are sweaty, shaking. “I want to be good. Can I touch you here? Please? I need to be a good boy for you.”

“You can touch me anywhere, please…” You nearly forget to breathe as his hands skate up to settle under your breasts. The way he’s panting, begging, makes you feel so hot and feral, and you reach down to find the waistband of his boxers.

His hips snap forward and he lets out a trembling moan.

“So sensitive for me…” You mutter, slipping your hand down to cup him through his boxers.

“Angel, my angel–” He nearly collapses, his kisses devolving into needy licks at your neck, living up to the image of the desperate puppy you’ve always known him to be. “Please, please, let me pleasure you first. I’m not going to last if you keep touching me–!”

He whines as you move your other hand to squeeze his ass.

“I’m barely touching you. So desperate for me…”

“Yes, yes! I’m desperate, I’ll do anything. Please, please let me take care of you.”

“Already begging and I didn’t even ask…”

“Oh, god! You’re perfect, you’re truly an angel– no, a goddess–” He grinds into your hand and licks down your chest until he finds a nipple to lap at greedily.

“Fuck!” You squeeze his cock through his boxers and he noses between your tits, pressing wet kisses to your sternum. You can hear him sniffing you, feel him tilting his head back and forth, and you laugh in affection and disbelief as you realize this is probably Sanji’s heaven: his face in a woman’s tits as she palms his erection.

“You’re so hard for me…” You trace his erection and swipe a thumb over where the head must be. He whines into your tits.

“You did this to me…” His voice is muffled. “Please, please, I’m about to cum. Let me take care of you first! I’m here to serve you, just call me your dog…”

“Fuck, fuck, I’m going to go insane if you don’t touch my pussy right now–”

Sanji whines, lifting his head up to look into your eyes. His hands scramble downwards, squeezing your tits once as if to say goodbye and then pushing desperately at your hips. You take your hands off of him and push your panties down.

“Feel how wet I am, all for you…”

“For me?” He huffs. “You really are? You’re wet, just for me?”

You guide his hand between your legs and he trembles, shaking fingers brushing your folds. He carefully strokes down and gasps, gathering slick on his fingers and drawing them in a circle around your entrance.

“You’re so warm… God, you’re so wet and hot here. Is this really for me?”

“I’m wet because of you, Sanji. You make me so wet.” You guide his fingers upwards and groan as his middle finger brushes your clit. “Right there, that’s the spot–”

“Oh…” He gasps in pure wonder, gently swirling his fingers around it. “Oh, that’s it… Is this good for you? Please, I’ve never– Never touched anyone here before…”

You nearly come just hearing that you’re his first. He’s so excited, so nervous and eager to please, so careful in his exploration of your body, and you can’t resist pulling him down to kiss him, open-mouthed and hungry.

You break away and kiss the corner of his mouth, feeling his fingers slide wetly against you.

“I’ll show you,” you mutter against his lips. “I can teach you.”

You guide his fingers gently over your clit, showing him how to circle it, the right amount of pressure, the right tempo. He nods his head at each new scrap of feedback, immediately adopting your preferred method.

“You have– mm– you're very talented with your hands.”

He sighs in pure bliss, sounding every bit like he's just stretched out in a lawn chair in the sun. “It comes with the job. All this time, I thought I was training to improve my culinary skills… I know now it was all for you, to help you feel good.”

You laugh at his dramatics, then melt into a deep exhale as he strokes you just right. He picks up on the cue effortlessly, and keeps doing exactly what you like, fingers at just the right angle and pressure to draw more noises out of you. His fingers briefly dip down to gather more slick and your entire body tenses, toes curling at his fingers teasing your entrance.

“Beautiful, beautiful,” he chants. “You're so warm. Can I put my fingers inside of you? Please?”

“Yesss–” you hiss, hips rolling up into his waiting hand. “God, yes, please-”

He very gently inserts the tip of his middle finger, checking that you're okay. Frustrated, you buck forward so that his finger slips all the way in, and Sanji lets out a noise so awed you'd think he just found the All Blue.

“You're even hotter in here, and wetter–” He shivers as you clench around his finger. It's equal parts endearing and torturous when he begins thrusting his finger into and back out of you; you still his hand by taking his wrist.

“Am I doing it wrong?” He murmurs. You stroke the tender skin of his lower arm and he gasps out a delirious little laugh, like he can't believe his luck. “Please, mellorine, show me…”

“Hook your finger towards yourself, like–” you let out a squeak- “Like that–! Fuck, Sanji, right there- right there, right there, good boy–”

“F-faster? Or is this good?”

“Give me another, I'm ready– Please, I'm so wet for you I'm dripping–”

Sanji whines and quickly fumbles to add another finger, which sinks into you with a squelch that makes your jaw clench in pleasure.

“You're so perfect,” Sanji babbles. “I can't believe this is happening, You're so beautiful, such a beautiful angel. Thank you for letting me touch you. Thank you, thank you!”

“Harder, harder, right there!”

Sanji hesitates for only a moment before giving into your demands and thrusting against your inner wall until you're near sobbing. He lets out noises of awe and words of praise at every clench around his fingers.

“Sanji, Sanji—” You keen as he finds the perfect tempo, back arching off the sleeping bag. “My clit, too – use your thumb!”

Sanji finds your clit after a moment of effort and rubs it in time to the thrusts of his fingers, remembering the amount of pressure you need, changing speeds until your breath is hitching and your hands are clamped to his shoulders.

“Is this good for you? Are you close?” Sanji moves to kiss your ear, your throat, your chest.

“Yes, yes, it’s good– you’re such a sweet boy for me–”

Sanji finds a nipple and begins sucking on it in earnest, face pressed insistently into your breast. His fingers curl into you again and again, his tongue swirls your nipple before he gently nibbles it, and that’s all you can take– you come with a stifled yell and shaking legs.

“Oh angel…” Sanji’s hand stills. “You just had an orgasm, didn’t you? I made you feel that good?” His voice is distant, awed, and he moves to kiss your lips as if in a daze. His mouth is wet and so is his chin, and as you come down from your high you realize your tits are soaked: he was drooling all over you.

You cup his cheeks and pull his mouth into yours, possessed by some strange urge to lick the saliva off of him, and are met with the taste of iron. You pull away with an amused huff.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Ah-” One hand shoots up to his nose, and he reaches out of the sleeping bag and into the cold night air to grab his shirt and wipe his face off with it. The action makes his cock graze you and you feel heat ripple through your belly, searing even hotter than before.

“Get back in here.” You tug Sanji back to you by his shoulders and he happily complies. “Obedient boy. You’re like a little puppy dog, huh?”

Sanji makes the happiest sound you’ve ever heard as he slumps back down into you, apparently on a new plane of bliss after successfully making you come. He scoops an arm under you and pulls you to his side, slotting a thigh between your legs and threading a hand into your hair.

“I was good for you, wasn’t I?”

“You were excellent. And such a fast study.” You ruffle his hair and your cunt clenches as he gives a happy little moan in response. “Are you up for round two? I still have another one in me. Or more.”

“Really?” He perks up immediately: it’s action time. “Oh, mellorine, you need me again? Can I taste you?”

“Holy fucking shit,” you gasp, closing your eyes as you feel an intense wave of pleasure crash over you. You pull his thigh closer to your core and barely resist humping him shamelessly until you’re coming all over his bare skin. “Yes, yes-”

Sanji scrambles into the sleeping bag with such urgency that it’s pulled down with him, exposing you to the biting chill of the air.

“Sanji, Sanji–!” You grab him by the shoulders. “This isn’t working. I’m going to freeze to death!”

Sanji quickly comes back up and fusses like the sweet mother hen that he is, tucking you both back into the blankets and holding you to him. He smooths his hands up and down your arms to warm you back up.

“Is this better, sweet princess? I can’t have my beloved turning into an icicle.”

God, he’s so sickeningly sweet it makes you need to see him made a mess of. You ponder the logistics of fucking in the sleeping bag, but decide it’s both implausible and also probably not the romantic and atmospheric way that Sanji would want to lose his virginity to you. He seems like more of a rose petals and candles type of man, and you’re happy to play along.

“Give me your thigh.”

He presses his leg back to your core and you hiss in delight as his firm muscle puts delicious pressure on your clit and entrance.

“Angel, you’re so wet! Please, please, can I–?” His fingers slip greedily down, and he strokes an affectionate circle over your vulva, waiting for permission.

Thinking he’s going to touch your clit again, you nod rapidly, but instead he dips his fingers into your pussy to gather slick and bring it to his mouth. He moans loudly, shivering in ecstasy as he gets a taste of you.

“You’re perfect, you’re perfect–!” He gasps into your ear, pressing his thigh upwards to give you more pressure. “You taste perfect! I always knew you were an angel. Thank you, thank you–”

He licks every last drop from his fingers, slurping loudly and unabashedly and humming in contentment, and it drives you so insane that you thrust yourself into his thigh until you’re coming again.

You feel your slick wetting his leg, dampening his hair (now there’s a thought that makes your already spent pussy throb, the idea that it’ll be dried by tomorrow); you waste no time in reaching down to grip him through his boxers.

“Angel– My goddess–!” He moves his hips immediately, chasing the friction you’re giving him. “You don’t have to–!” He protests, but makes no move to pull away.

“Fuck, Sanji, you’re incredible. My good boy, all for me. I want you on your knees as soon as you get back to the Sunny. Will you do that?”

“Yes! Yes, please, yes!” He sobs.

“Everyone’s going to hear how loud you’re being,” you tut, beginning to jerk him off. “They’ll know how desperate you are.”

Sanji whimpers pitifully, lips bitten to prevent the noise from carrying. Realistically, you know that if Zoro and Luffy were going to hear it, they’ve probably already heard about twenty minutes of noises they’ll want to forget by morning.

“You’re all wet already for me, huh?” You tease, and slip your hand into his boxers to test your theory. You were absolutely right: he’s soaked in precum and achingly hard. “Did you like touching me? Did you like tasting your goddess?”

Sanji buries his face into your shoulder to stifle a shout, and comes hotly against your hand. His cum spills onto your wrist and drips down your hand, and you love it, love the physical reminder of how insane you managed to drive him: just a few strokes and he became a trembling mess.

Sanji recovers slowly, breathing hot and slow on your neck and trailing lazy kisses over your collarbone. You gently clean him and yourself with his boxers and he mumbles a thank you, kicking them off and to the bottom of the sleeping bag once you’re done.

And then he just… gathers you in his arms and holds you. He cradles you to him like you’re the most precious thing in the world, squeezing you to his chest and threading your legs together. He presses kisses to your hairline and you let yourself melt into his chest, sticky and warm and sated.

“Did you really mean it?” He mutters into your hair.

“Mm?”

“When you said you don’t want me to tone it down. Did you mean it?”

“Of course I meant it. You know, I’m hesitant to say something in case it eggs you on too much, but I like how insane you are about women. Especially when it’s about me. You know, I might leave the bathroom door unlocked next time I bathe.”

“You– angel, you wouldn’t–!”

“I would. And you’d have to get there first before one of the other men did… I have my purity to protect, right? You wouldn’t want Zoro seeing me naked.”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Maybe a little. But seriously, Sanji. I’m crazy about you and I want you to feel free to be crazy about me, too. I mean, I’ve never been more flattered in my life than I was at how quickly you tried to eat me out. When we’re back at sea, I’m all yours. I want to see you eat me out like you’re starved.”

He gasps, cupping your cheeks and kissing your nose. “I am starved, I am…”

“I know, baby boy.”

Those last words break him. He squeaks and then starts to babble, and you let him process tonight’s events as you tuck the blankets in around the both of you and settle into a comfortable position.

At some point Sanji snaps out of it and scooches towards you to be snuggled. You wrap your arms around him and pull him to your chest, and he rests his face in your breasts and instantly falls asleep.

“Idiot,” you smile widely, looking down at his head of fluffy hair rising and falling with every breath you take.

The rain patters against the tent’s roof, and Sanji’s breath whistles while he sleeps against you, and it takes no time to drift off yourself.

#infixopmarch2025 #one piece #sanji x reader #my fics

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stottlemorgan · 3 months ago

Text

Low Honour Arthur Morgan NSFW Headcanons (Female Reader)

Author's note: Much like my Mid Honour NSFW Headcanons for Arthur, these are for me to flesh out his character in my head. Low Honour Arthur is much more warbled ground for me as I feel he can go in many different directions!! He’s a little toxiccccc, girlies (I know y’all eat it up like I do). I’ve used my first headcanon post as a framework in order to have it be some sort of pair piece to the Mid Honour side. This has some deeper bits about Arthur’s character within the smuttiness, I hope that it’s still enjoyable! Love y’all <333 Tags: 18+ smut, MDNI!, oral, masturbation, p in v, Low Honour Arthur being a meanie Word count: 2,562 Ao3 Link.

♡ Oh, this man will hold it all in until he bursts. He is a boiling concoction of self-loathing, shame, fear, and desperation. All he wants is to be wanted, to be loved, but he won’t allow it for himself because he can’t imagine any instance where he genuinely deserves it.

♡ When it comes to PDA, well, don’t count on him being consistent. One moment, he’ll let you wrap an arm around his waist or plant a kiss on his cheek, sometimes he’ll even squeeze your rear or hold your waist if he’s up for it. The next moment? A mighty volte-face. He’ll dodge your hands, turn away, glare at you as if you’re insane for trying to touch him.

♡ If you keep trying to rile him up, he’ll genuinely get agitated. Each time you touch him, he almost snarls, his mind tearing itself apart, both aflame with need and extinguishing it all at once. He’ll snap at you whilst his fingers twitch and his eyes rake down your body. “Simmer down, girl.” “None o’that now.” “I said quit it. I ain’t in the mood.”

♡ He’ll even go as far as to insult you to get you to back off, even if it in turn makes him feel worse. “Ain’t got two pennies on my person right now, Miss.” “Why don’chu go wear yourself out doin’ some work instead seein’ as you ain’t helped none today.” “Not sure you need makin’ more stupid today, darlin’. Go ‘n’ help Grimshaw.”

♡ There is one thing that he enjoys quite greedily though… You sitting in his lap. Your plush rear settled into the cradle of his groin and your soft body applying the most calming pressure to his person as he swills a sup of whiskey about his mouth. He’ll allow you to sink onto his lap at almost any time, in any way. It gives him a blazing kick of control and though he won’t admit it, it helps ground him.

♡ If you want to turn him on, it takes some time but not because his body is failing to react. He’ll grow solid as stone but you have to get him to a point where he feels ready enough to touch you in return.

♡ Some nights, he’ll allow himself a simple, rough bout of self-pleasure. His hands move quickly, sloppily, like his whole being is searing with an unscratchable itch. He’ll huff and grunt and spill over his fist without thinking too much, before he can think too much. He cleans up and tucks away his cock as though he’s uncomfortably tending to a wound, his eyes only flitting down occasionally to make sure he’s not missed anything.

♡ He doesn’t deserve the pleasure. He doesn’t deserve to be loved or held or valued for much more than the services he can provide. For the workhorse needs nothing more than a mere carrot to serve its master.

♡ But he also wants to take. To snatch what he so desperately wants from the world around him, from you. Whether he deserves it or not. He just wants a taste, he knows it won’t last for very long.

♡ Like a cat to cream, he just wants to lap insatiably before the hand that feeds him so sporadically rips it away again.

♡ He isn’t all that talkative a lot of the time. He can be vocal but it’s more subdued. Grunting, groaning, but through clenched teeth, huffing. Puffing very loud breaths through his nose as he squeezes his eyes shut and maintains a vice-like grip on your hips. The majority of his thoughts stay caged within his mind. I don’t deserve this. God, I don’t deserve this at all. I’m ruining this poor woman. I can’t stop myself. Foolish and desperate as always. Arthur, you sick son of a bitch.

♡ When he does feel like talking, he’s quite blunt. Telling you what to do to give him what he wants, telling you what to do so that you get what you want. “Up now, girl.” “Lean forward, now.” “C’mon.” “Come now, girl.” “That’s good.” “Doin’ well.” “S’at good enough?”

♡ His way of praising you is a bit more forceful. He wants you to feel it, not just hear it. Sometimes he’ll praise you through words, his voice strained, “That’s it, girl.” “Mm, you’re feelin’ good tonight, girl.” “Oh, there y’go. That’s it.” “Gooood girl, good girl, keep at it.” “Mm, right- right there– That- that’s it- beautiful-”

♡ Other times he’ll praise you physically - squeezing your waist, smacking your ass, thrusting into you a few times a little quicker with a hum and a sharkish grin to show he’s enjoying you, mouthing at your skin, licking his lips after tasting you.

♡ You can praise him in return, but be prepared to hear him sigh. His face will scrunch as if you’d just kicked him in the stomach, and to him, it feels as though you have. “Wha’d I say ‘bout talkin’ like that? Mhm, yeah, I said quit it.” “You tryna piss me off?” “Shit, girl– Stop with all that.” “Shut up.”

♡ If you catch him out on a particularly tiring or stressful day, your words will choke him of breath. His eyes will dart up, he’ll blink uncomfortably, his mouth opening and closing, his tongue nervously wetting his lips as his self-loathing funnels down from his brain and floods his lungs, melting the usual bite from his voice. His forehead will land on your shoulder, or against his palm. “None o’that today.” “Please, darlin’.”

♡ Once in a blue moon, something more will slip from him, the pleasureful haze brewing a drunken feeling in his chest akin to romance. His touch will soften, his movements slowing, his gaze shining with a strange clarity… And he in those moments he lets you see him. “Ain’t deservin’ of you, darlin’.” “You been on my mind all week, I- I been thinkin’ ‘bout takin’ you into town.” “I weren’t plannin’ to leave ‘til mornin’. If you’ll have me.”

♡ If he smothers you, that’s just how it is, he won’t even think about it unless you let him know he’s doing it. “Mm– Arthur– You’re crushin’ me.” “Apologies, Miss.” His voice will leave him cattish, very almost chuckling.

♡ He’ll be gone for days or weeks at a time and return to camp abruptly in the middle of the night, practically ripping through the flap of his or your tent, grabbing, mouthy, and greedy. “Get up, girly.” “Evenin’ to ya, Miss. You’re lookin’ mighty warm ‘n’ comfortable.” “In my tent again, I see? You’d think you were waitin’ for somethin’.”

♡ If you try to look him in the eye, he’s quick to duck his head down, fuck you harder to make your eyes roll back and away from him, pinch you, push your chin up. Trying to form a consistent connection with him is futile, he won’t allow it. He’ll groan, the sound towing the line between vulnerable and truculent. “Stop that.” He’ll flip you over and shove your face into the pillows if he has to.

♡ If you’re persistent in your efforts, he’ll become genuinely agitated with you. “M’not here for that. Stop.” And if he’s feeling particularly unfond of the attention, his body will falter, his cock softening, the solidity and heat flowing up and through to instead fence off his heart.

♡ When you climb atop him, whether it be to ride his cock or his face, he has a habit of averting his gaze to the sight of your glistening core adorning the cruel landscape of his body the same way a stream runs over the jagged rock of the bed. If he has an arm free, he’ll bring it over his eyes, chest heaving, teeth bared as he groans.

♡ This man will buck up into you, no question about it. He loves to roll his full length into you when he’s on top, feeling you pulse around him as you whine, so it’s not different when the roles are reversed. Take, take, take, give, give, give.

♡ By your umpteenth orgasm, you’re sheening with one another’s sweat. His skin sticks to yours, his musk sharpening your sweet scent as you breathe each other in through sloppy kisses. You’ll have to change your clothes, if you’re wearing any, as will he. Though, only with a full bath will you remove the tang of his sweat.

♡ This man is a glutton in all ways he allows himself to be. He’ll unabashedly devour you, his thick fingers dipping into your skin as he viciously mouths his way up and down between your clit and your core. He needs you to huff and gasp and moan, he needs to hear and feel what you’re feeling from him, for him. He’ll groan, pressing his cock into whatever’s beneath him. He’ll overstimulate you with purpose, watching you as your head falls back, as your heels dig into his back, as you cry out his name. His lips and tongue will be flushed a sweet pink when he pulls away only to take a few breaths before planting heavy kisses about your groin.

♡ When you kiss your way down his chest, his stomach, inching lower, his breaths tighten. His hands will already twitch with the urge to grab your head, want and discomfort waging a fearsome war behind his dilating pupils. He’ll grab at whatever is at his sides and his mouth will drop open with a low groan as you gently guide his cock into your mouth, you’d almost think you’re hurting him. He’ll stammer out a few half words as you start to suck and if you look up quickly enough, you’ll catch his gaze, wide and focused on you. So many words want to burst from him, yet they never do. His brow will furrow and his jaw will tense as he thrusts into your mouth, his breaths verging on whimpers. At some point, a hand will come to the back of your head and he’ll stroke your hair, his fingers occasionally twitching, grabbing as the pace increases. He’ll grunt and squeeze his eyes shut, the muscles in his jaw flickering, his body writhing. The need for more starts to slosh about in his stomach like gasoline, one spark of nervous thought away from combusting, from pushing you away and singeing you both.

♡ On occasion, he has wordlessly and swiftly ushered you out of his tent or left yours in a few long strides, heavy with his brutish build but also fear and discomfort. If he feels that you saw him a little too closely, feels that you were a little too kind, too familiar, his skin will burn with the compulsion to put as much distance between you as possible despite you remaining firmly at the forefront of his mind.

♡ In those moments, rough, strained huffs escape his chest as he quells the hot and gentle tears coalescing at his eyelashes. His stomach becomes an angry, swinging weight, dragging him about, seeking some sort of solace. He knows he could find it in you if he went back but he just can’t bring himself to bare more than his body to you.

♡ If you’re growing to be a little too loud during sex, especially if you’re semi-public, he won’t hesitate to clamp a palm over your mouth, giving your head a little shake. “Now now, enough o’that. You’re soundin’ like you’re wantin’ to be caught.” He’ll shove his tongue into your mouth, or even apply a light pressure to your throat, juuuust enough to stifle your moans into squeaks. “I said quiet now, sweetheart.”

♡ He likes to paw at your rear, your hips, your thighs, pushing them apart, moving to your breasts, his hands warm and rough and kneading your shoulders as he mouths at your jaw. When he settles into it, he loves massaging your body, giving you what he won’t give himself, a unique bristly tenderness. He’ll stabilise you, holding you, but there’s a lasciviousness to it. He’s helping you but his own gain is of equal thought.

♡ He’ll suckle on your skin, nipping at you, grinning as he pulls little gasps from you and purples your skin. If you don’t complain too much, he’ll pinch and squeeze you here and there, digging his blunt nails into your skin and bringing you flush to him with a low hum.

♡ You’re permitted to mark him in turn, “If you’d like.” Scratching his back and drawing a shiver and a hungry moan from him. He’s quite fond of you biting his shoulders, tonguing at his skin as you suck as his neck, bruising his back with your heels as he thrusts into you. “S’a dangerous mouth you got there, girl.” “Christ- c- careful, darlin’.”

♡ He’ll check in with you, though it’s quick. If you’re on your front, he’ll lean forward and cup the side of your head, guiding you to look at him briefly. “Y’alright?” “Yeah?” “That’s it, ain’t it?” If you’re on your back, he’ll nuzzle into your neck, kissing and humming. “How’s that feelin’, darlin’?”

♡ He’ll soak your skin with messy kisses, practically biting you as he moves to your mouth, your teeth clinking together. He’ll grin as you laugh into his mouth, a grating hum sounding in his palette, something sounding so close to him calling you his girl. “Mmm’girl. C’mere.”

♡ He’s not one to often tolerate an attitude. He’ll tense, his brow furrowing, eyes narrowing, jaw setting. He’ll grasp you, putting you into position, leaning in close, his lips brushing yours. “You gon’ keep grousin’?” “What’s that about, hm, girl?” “You wanna tell me what you think you’re doin’ talkin’ to me that way?”

♡ He’ll also click his tongue or tut at you, and even shake his head while he’s doing it if he’s feeling especially snarky.

♡ If you’re feeling overwhelmed, he’s not likely to stop if he thinks you can handle it. He’ll slow down for a moment, let you have a few breaths, but while you do, he’s palming at you, kissing your back or chest, riling you up still. “Shhh, shh, sh, c’mon now. You can take it, can’chya? I seen you do it before… Mhm, that’s it, good girl.”

♡ If it really is too much for you, he’ll hook his arms beneath yours from whichever way you're facing and bring you up to sit in his lap, a heavy sigh escaping him as he snuffs out the nasty compulsion to snap at you. He wouldn’t want to snap at you deep down, it’s just his body seething with need. “Come on, darlin’. Why don’chu take a minute? Here, come.” He’ll hold you to him, tense with arousal, his eyes closing, fighting how exposed the gesture makes him feel.

♡ He’s quite dominating, but the blade of his controlling nature has blunted edges when it comes to you. He can be aloof, snippy, rolling his eyes, but he’ll still kiss you and rub your shoulders or waist as he’s snapping at you. He won’t always say no to you taking some of the control either; though he has to guide you into it or tell you to take control.

Tags for my sweethearts (I can't remember exactly who, so sorry if I've missed you or tagged you accidentally! Love y'all!): @frillydolle @pinescent-and-gingerbread @zae-heeyyy @thoughts-of-bear @kayyqua @thundermartini

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #my writing #stottlemorgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan headcanons #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x you

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