#Highlight them hips
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moonilit · 1 year ago
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Them be everything and consume me
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i-may-be-an-emu · 6 months ago
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I love them your honour
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eyebulb · 10 days ago
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Yknow to each their own and all that.
I get the fascination with curves, i really do. And I embrace it!
But... It also kinda bothers me when canonically scrawny characters get the curve treatment. Or well.. Not entirely true. I'm fine with the concept of playing with design and all that.. But.. When it happens more often then not it makes me a lil sad.
Like.. Female characters being drawn with big boobs and hips even tho they have no boobs or hips in canon. Or canonically twigish men drawn fuller. Specifically gay men.
Like I'm not saying to not do that ever, it just makes me a little sad to not see as much appreciation for the body they came with yknow?
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the-physicality · 4 months ago
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honestly despite some of the lows this season the merc really have spoiled me. on the after time out plays, on inbounding, on the post guard connections, the dt to bg connection
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c0rpsedemon · 1 year ago
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one thing i'm trying to keep in mind while designing the cast of the resurrectionists is that they're all constantly changing clothes + ideally there will be ppl cosplaying these characters someday and i'd much rather see morana cosplays done in old btssb pieces that technically aren't things she wears than morana cosplays in cheap mass-produced versions of her canon outfits from aliexpress so i'm trying to make them all recognizable by a defining feature or two + fashion (sub)style alone
#like morana wears old school egl. tends towards skirts that hit her mid calf. prefers ruffles over lace. always has on rocking horse shoes.#usually is in some sort of deep red. wears a lot of vivienne westwood pieces. wears a lot of bows. and has a very specific shade of pink#hair w hime-esque bangs and braided twintails. so like. if youve got the hair and 1-2 of those things you're all set for your morana cospla#(also rectangular headdresses. she loves rectangular headdresses)#shi is also one of the good examples. shironuri w bright red lipstick and LONG false eyelashes for makeup. long red and black hair in a#high sidepony (which is at least partially crimped). she wears angura kei w a tendency towards basing her fits around kimono and not school#uniforms (bc she is. a grown ass adult. from the 1600s). she always has something on her head near the base of that ponytail.#her outfits often incorporate flowers or butterflies. she usually has some sort of timepiece on her. she likes printed socks/tights. her#shoes always have some sort of platform. and her main colors are red white and black.#dysmas doesn't wear any color save for white and black. any metal on them is silver. their hair is black and textured and covers one eye.#they always have a crucifix displayed on them prominently somewhere. they wear shironuri w dark makeup around their eyes and st peter's#cross drawn under their visible eye + black lipstick. their outfits are mainly black w white collars. they like moi meme moitie pieces.#they almost always have a crucifix at their hip. for shoes they tend towards a heeled boot. they almost always have on some sort of veil fo#headwear. think of them like a raspberry mazohyst choker come to life.#mara's going to be my last example bc i need to make the rest of them stronger. black twintails w bangs parted in the middle and pink#highlights. either guro lolita or menhera depending on which version of her you're looking at but we're going to focus on regular mara not#distant-future-amnesiac-reaper-mara . so guro lolita. she always has an eyepatch. she has long legs so she uses that age old talllita trick#of letting one's bloomers peak out to cover more leg. she tends towards blouse+skirt+apron coords instead of wearing a jsk or op.#white bright red and bright pink are her colors. usually wears gloves or wrist cuffs. likes printed tights/socks. likes border prints.#romeo.txt
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hibiscus02 · 3 months ago
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I could make a serious Wicked review and talk about the vocals and the choreography and the costumes and the sets, which are all great, but this is tumblr, and I know that all of these aspects will not matter nearly as much as me reviewing the movie by how much gay subtext they put into it, so that's exactly what I'm gonna do.
Elphaba and Glinda are either holding hands or have their arms linked for about 70% of this movie. Literally, after they officially become friends these girls are attached at the hip.
'What Is This Feeling?' remains about as gay as it usually is, but I will highlight that they lie awake at night thinking about each other which. I know what you are etc etc
The scene where they dance together is. I have no words. That was beautiful. Both actresses put so much emotion into the sequence. And there's a moment where Glinda puts her hand on Elphaba's face, almost like she's brushing away the tears there, and that shit made me cry as well.
'Popular' is insanely homosexual. There's a scene where they're laying down on the bed looking into each other's eyes, and Glinda shifts to basically be on top of Elphaba. My jaw was on the floor. Just lots of touching and Looks all throughout.
When they go to see the Wizard all that casual touching I mentioned previously is multiplied by tenfold, and there are several moments where Elphaba looks at Glinda for reassurance, which was very sweet.
'Defying Gravity' made me just as emotional as I knew it would. I do wish they had hugged but honestly with all the handholding and the staring into each other's eyes, and Glinda wrapping the cloak around Elphaba, they gave us plenty. Once again the acting caught me by surprise (specially from Ariana), both of them communicate so much with just looks.
Anyway my overall thoughts are, these bitches gay, good for them. They did not tone down the subtext at all (like I know some people were worried would happen), and while they didn't make anything explicit either (which I never expected them to*), I'm confident that both Cynthia and Ariana understood the assignment in regards to the kind of relationship Glinda and Elphaba have in canon, and that was enough for me.
*I will admit that a secret corner of my little lesbian heart hoped beyond hope that they would include the scene from the book where Elphaba canonically kisses Glinda (iirc it's supposed to be during Defying Gravity), but like, I always knew they wouldn't.
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s0dium · 7 months ago
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Fucking you raw??!!!
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Synopsis: It's his first time fucking and you are letting him go raw?????!!! Oh boy.
Warnings: Everything you might imagine.
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Is he dreaming? This has got to be a dream.
He blinks. Hard. To his disbelief, the site below him remains unchanged.
He gazes, awestruck by the vulnerability and arousal mirrored in your eyes. The soft, ambient light above casts a gentle glow on your skin, accentuating its smoothness and the delicate curve of your shoulders and highlighting the gentle slope of your breasts. Your nipples glisten, probably from his spit when you practically had to coax him off them.
"Are you ok baby?" Your voice comes out almost as a whisper, sultry and smooth. He watches your lips form the words, how your mouth glistens from the spit of his messy kisses, and how your tongue darts out to wet it.
He thickly gulps and nods. No, he would not lose composure, not now when he has been fantasizing this moment for months. With unbreaking focus, he presses the tip of his dick against your tight hole.
Then, he sucks in a breath through his teeth and pushes in. Immediately his mind goes white, paper white. Fuck, he has to kneel over from how wet, warm and goddamn tight you feel. The sensation is electric, like tiny sparks dancing along his nerves, igniting every inch they touch. It's a delicious contrast of heat and moisture, sending waves of tingling delight that radiate from dick finger to the rest of his body. He can't believe this is happening, he can't believe he is fucking the girl of his dreams raw. Your a god damn angel for letting him do this he is sure of it.
He has to remain still inside your heat for a few seconds and thank god you let him, or else he is sure he wouldve cum ropes into you there and then.
"Im gonna move now baby," He throws his head back and groans "J-jesus you feel so good"
He's too immersed in his own pleasure to realize that you are also being thrown in the abyss of utter euphoria. Letting him go raw was the absolute best fucking decision you have ever made. His dick filled you to the brim, stretching you perfectly. His thrusts were slow at first, testing the waters to see how much you could take, how much he could take. It was dizzying, the grith of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, the euphoria of him fitting snuggly against walls with every thrust. The friction is incredible and it made pain quickly turn into pleasure.
"F-faster" You manage to croak out and he lets out a whine at your words. Jesus, you don't need to tell him twice.
He reels his hips back just enough so his fat tip barely leaves your warm cunny, the anticipation building as you brace yourself. In an instant, he slams them forward, hard and fast right into your cervix, driving into you with a force that leaves you gasping for air. The bed creaks beneath you both, each powerful thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. His movements are relentless, each one more intense than the last, the friction of his dick scraping against your walls making your toes curl.
"Love you, love you so much" he babbles. He's far too gone, a primal need for you has settled in him and his brain is on auto pilot. All he can think about is how good your pussy feels wrapped around him and how pretty you look right now. The sensation of your body moving in unison drives him wild, his grip on you tightening as he loses himself in the overwhelming ecstasy. His low groans and murmured praises only heighten the intensity, making each moment more electrifying than the last.
"So good s-so good" your words are strung out on your lips from how good he is fucking you. Every thrust ignites a fire within you, the sensations so intense you can hardly think. Your senses are overwhelmed by the feeling of him deep inside you, the rhythm of his movements perfectly attuned to your own mounting desire. You moan in ecstasy, the sound mingling with his groans, as each powerful thrust pushes you closer to the edge. The pleasure is all-consuming, making your body tremble with each delicious impact, every moment more euphoric than the last.
As he continues, you can sense his building intensity, his breaths turning into ragged gasps. His eyes flutter shut, and you feel the shudder of pleasure running through him with each thrust like electricity. His grip on you tightens, and his pace quickens, driven by a primal need. Every thrust brings him closer to the peak, his mind beginning to blur with overwhelming sensation. You can see the tension in his muscles, his abs tightening with the strain of holding back.
"Shit shit shit" he gasps, bending over so his lips are against your ear. "Im gonna cum baby, im gonna cum in you fuuuuuu-"
Then, with a final, powerful thrust, his mind goes blank, and a surge of pure ecstasy washes over him. His body tenses, abs hardening as he reaches the peak of his euphoria. He groans deeply, lost in the moment of ultimate pleasure, every muscle in his body taut with the intensity of his climax. The sensation is overwhelming, leaving him trembling as the waves of pleasure gradually subside.
You gasp at the feeling of hot ropes of cum filling you up. Theres so much of it it spills out of you and onto the bedsheets below. Your body trembles in response, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Sensing your rising climax, he leans down, his lips brushing against your neck, leaving a trail of soft, peppered kisses.
His voice, husky with desire, whispers in your ear, "Let it go, baby. Let it go."
His words, combined with the gentle touch of his lips, send shivers down your spine. He slows his thrusts, his dick still painfully hard, moving with a deliberate, tantalizing rhythm that drives you wild. The pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, your entire body tensing as you approach the edge. His soothing words and tender kisses coax you further, until finally, you let go.
A wave of intense pleasure crashes over you, your body arching in response. The world blurs as you reach the peak of your euphoria, every nerve ending alive with sensation. His slow, deliberate thrusts and murmured encouragement keep you riding the wave of ecstasy, your mind lost in the overwhelming bliss. You cry out, the release so powerful it leaves you trembling, completely consumed by the moment.
Your left gasping for air and just when your about to roll over and take a breath, he grabs the underside of your legs and presses them against your chest.
"So sorry baby, I need more. Please let me have more."
GOJO, GETO, Toji, YUUJI, YUUTA, KENMA, OIKAWA, BOKUTO, EREN, SHIGARAKI, SANEMI
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poguelandiarafe · 3 months ago
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protective | rafe cameron
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pairing - rafe cameron x gf!reader
warnings - none (maybe topper and kelce in general...)
summary - you hurt yourself. topper and kelce think it's funny until rafe immediately goes to check on you and snaps at them, shutting them up.
masterlist
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laughter cuts through the room as you stumble over a pair of shoes topper had left in the doorway, immediately falling forward and colliding with the ground.
“shit, you good y/n?” topper teases, nudging kelce between chuckles.
kelce smirks, trying badly to conceal his amusement, “that looked like it hurt.��
a blush rises to your cheeks as rafe rushes over to you, helping you up and noticing the way you won’t put any weight on one foot.
“shut up. she’s hurt herself you assholes.” rafe snaps, keeping his hands on your hips to keep you steady.
topper and kelce’s laughter comes to a halt as they watch how soft and caring he turns within seconds. his expression shifts from annoyance to worry when his eyes meet yours again.
“rafe, baby, no i’m fine. just let me get a drink and i’ll be back upstairs, promise.” you insist, wincing slightly when you stand up properly.
he shakes his head, not convinced, “don’t act like you’re not in pain sweetheart, just wanna check you’re okay.”
“but it’s just my ankle-”
“i don’t care,” rafe interrupts, “topper get some ice or peas or something. then get your shit and leave. you too kelce.”
topper’s jaw drops slightly, really not thinking it was such a big deal. but, when it came to you, anyone who upset you or disrespected you soon became rafe’s enemies, so topper knew better than to anger his friend anymore.
a few minutes later, you’re sat on the couch while rafe kneels in front of you holding a bag of frozen peas to your ankle, soothing the pain.
“leave.” rafe reminds them, nodding his head towards the door.
“we’re going.” kelce says, holding his hands up in surrender.
you give them a smile, a way of saying ‘no hard feelings’. rafe, however, doesn’t even acknowledge them until the front door closes.
“fucking assholes.” he mumbles to himself.
“hey, i’m fine. stop being so hostile.” you sass, before you lean forward to cup his cheek, “thank you for looking after me.”
his shoulders drop and his head gently nuzzles into your hand, a kiss being placed to your thumb as it runs over his lips.
“sorry,” he whispers, “just love you too much. can’t deal with you being hurt.”
“i love you, but really, i’m okay. it's just an ankle."
after confirming you ‘really are okay’, at least another ten times, rafe finally settles into the couch cushions next to you, letting you pick something to watch together.
the sun highlights the blue of his eyes when he stares down at you, loving smile adorning his face. you’re oblivious to his staring until his lips brush your hairline.
“what?” you ask, looking up to meet his gaze through your lashes.
“you’re so beautiful.”
a giggle escapes you and somehow, his smile gets even bigger.
“you’re not so bad yourself cameron.”
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chlorinecake · 4 months ago
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— YOU'RE RIGHT, BABY | 𝐂.𝐁𝐂
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▹ PAIRING: soft!dom fiancé bangchan x f. reader
▹ SYNOPSIS: Chan gets a little upset upon realizing that you weren’t wearing your engagement ring, but you make it up to him by letting him fuck you in his studio after a long day of work…
▹ WARNINGS: KINKTOBER SPECIAL, swearing, kissing, teasing, dry humping and heavy petting, mentions of food, breeding kink + cream pie (chan’s a possessive freak and in love with the idea of getting you preggers lol), dirty talk, light breath play (f. receiving), pet names (good girl, baby), that’s about it
▹ WORD COUNT: 1.8k — DAY 2
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BEING THE AMAZING partner you are, you decided to stop by the studio where your fiancé was working and bring him some dinner, and by dinner, I mean a box full of his favorite takeout foods:
Grilled beef, steamed rice, broccoli teriyaki, and a chicken egg roll…
He was working a few hours overtime that day, and aside from the fact that you wanted him to have something good to eat after expending such efforts, you really just missed his presence…
You missed looking at his gorgeous face and hearing his adorable voice while he did absolutely nothing but vibe with you… you missed having his hands on you and your hands on him as you both got lost in the lusts of your own hearts—
“Chris,” your voice came out gently as you stood behind him, caressing over his tense shoulders while he remained seated in his desk chair, “just rest your little head, baby… you worry too much…”
“I do… you’re right…” he sighs deeply while leaning his head back against the headrest to look at you, the smell of takeout distant in the room.
His eyes are clearly tired as you know he’s been overworked lately, but you hold yourself from bringing it up to him, placing a gentle kiss to the center of his forehead instead.
“Thanks for stopping by, though, princess,” he went on, and you already feel like he’s trying to push you away, despite how you literally just got here, “I have to get back to work now, though—”
“You’re always getting back to work, Channie…” you chuckle slightly, and his eyes flutter shut as your thumbs come across a particularly tight muscle in his left shoulder…
Digging in, you massage the knot gently, but the pressure you apply doesn’t feel so soothing at first—
“Ouch, that hurts!” Chan exclaims with a wince, and you simply smooth over his skin with your touch, massaging a different area instead as you decided to give that spot time to heal on its own.
“Look… your body’s aching as if you’ve been working in a field all day… that’s why I’m here to make you feel better,” you return, and his body is clearly starting to relax the more and more your fingers smooth along the base of his neck and back down his shoulders again, soft hums coming from his throat at the sensation.
“But you don’t have to, love…” he says, voice a little weak as the warmth of your touch reeled him into relaxation, “just having you around is making me feel better already…”
“Aww,” you pout facetiously, even though he can’t see it from where he’s sitting, “You missed me, Channie?… Your very own nagging fiancé?…”
“Nooo,” he corrects, turning in his chair now to get a proper look at you, “I missed my beautiful wife to be, and my adoring partner in crime…”
Reaching out a hand, the veins in his arm appear highlighted under the dim studio lighting as he guides your face into his before giving you a kiss that you both smile into… weakly though, considering how it’s literally 4 in the morning...
Breaking from the contact, you tug at his wrist slightly, not letting go until he finally gets up from the chair, letting you lead him to sit on the couch.
The look on his face now very clearly lets you know what’s on his mind, but you simply decide to sit on his lap in a straddle position, wanting him to make the first move from here…
And he did.
“Can I?” He asks while lifting his hands from the couch cushion, hovering them over your hips and being careful not to touch until you allowed him to.
“Of course, silly,” you chuckle, making him blush slightly at your brief fit of laughter.
“It’s not like anyone’s here to tease us for it,” you went on, thinking back to the countless times that your fiancé’s friends (specifically Minho and Han) would outwardly gag whenever you two publicly display affection—
“You’re right, baby… no one’s around to bother us,” Chris breathes in agreement, finally letting his eager hands rest at your hips before adding a bit of pressure as he caressed up your waist and along your thighs, “The two of us could practically get away with doing anything we want for the next few hours in here…”
You didn't even have to ask to know what he was specifically implying, but you decide to play dumb anyway, just because you absolutely loved hearing his strong Aussie accent come out whenever he was sexually worked up with you…
“Takeout’s still waiting to be opened, Chris,” you whisper, letting your nails gently drag against his scalp as he melts into your touch, his silky curls looping around your fingers, “we shouldn’t keep it out for too long or else it might spoil…”
“Well I’m not in the mood to eat anymore,” he whispers back in a raspy voice, and you let your weight sink further into his lap, your bottom resting right above the spot his true hunger was pulling him most.
“Use your words, baby… tell me what you want,” You press, leaving a kiss along his clenched jawline… and another one on his pretty thick lips… and a third one against his Adam’s Apple that makes him groan out loud…
Or maybe his groan had more to do with the way you were also rocking your hips against his clothed hard on, making his hands slightly grip at the fabric of your jeans for any sort of leverage.
“Why… of all the bottoms that you own, did you close to wear tight, denim jeans at a time like this?” He asks with frustration, making you giggle a bit at the way his chest rises and falls every time you circle in his lap, the rough material tantalizing him…
“Don’t you think they make my ass look good, though?” You tease with a pout, watching as he smirks at your question, only to hiss at your movements again.
“They make your ass look great, babe… but they also make it impossible for me to touch you properly…”
He was doing it again, you thought to yourself… That thing where he gets you to do what he wants without specifically asking.
Yes, Chris was a typically a pretty confident guy, but sometimes, you had a way of bringing out his shy, reluctant side when it came to sexual things, but you still found it cute nonetheless.
“Fine, then… since you’re too shy to ask for it properly, I’ll just do it myself,” you say in a bratty tone while getting up from his lap, and he visibly scoffs at the way you stood before him now, fingers meddling with the buckle of your jeans until he stopped you.
“C’mere,” he huffs, pulling you close to him by the belt loop of your jeans until you fall into the couch beside him with a gentle plop.
His smirks again once he finally unzips the rough fabric just enough to see a leak of what’s beneath, and the expression is so wide that his dimples come through…
At first, you’re not sure why he’s a grinning mess, but you understand once his fingers run over the lace of your black panties, the same pair that he brought you a while back on one of his tours cross-country.
“I’ll take a wild guess and say you wore these for me, huh?” He asks with a husk to his tone now that you’re bumping your knee against his clothed hard-on, and his hips subconsciously chase the friction.
“Mhm,” you hum softly, lifting up on your elbows now to look at him better, “I just didn’t expect you to take so long to get ‘em off me…”
“How cute,” he returns, and your eyes follow the veins trailing his forearm, his flexed fingers hooking at either side of your hips before tugging your jeans the rest of the way down and past your ankles with your panties, tucking them under the couch cushion for his private use later…
“Cute?” You repeat with a raised brow, spreading your legs before him as you both watched each others cores intently, practically itching within yourself for him to finally untie his sweatpants.
“Yup. Love it when you get in your little attitudes,” he says plainly, but his smile is half-hearted now as he leans over you, bracing himself with his hands before kissing your forehead.
You try to follow where his eyes are looking, but his bangs are in the way, and you can’t help but ask him what the matter is…
However, he doesn’t answer immediately, simply taking your hands in his and placing a kiss to l the closed knuckles of your left hand, right before pinning your wrist at either side of your head on the couch.
And that’s when it hits you… the reason behind his sudden change in aura:
You forgot to put your engagement ring on…
You had only taken it off for a second before coming to meet him in the studio because some oil from the takeout bag had spilled on your hands… while washing up in the bathroom, you had put the ring in your purse and simply forgot to put it back on…
Though, you knew at this point it’d be worthless trying to get that story through Chan’s thick skull, as he had already made up in his mind that you were playing games with him…
“Where’s your ring, baby?” Your fiancé asks while shimmying down his boxers and trousers with one hand, and you near choke on air at the sight of his glossy and girthy tip springing out before you, red and angry with need.
“I-it’s in my purse,” you stammer, almost feeling guilty now that you had even forgot to put it back on in the first place, “I can go and get it—”
“No need,” he interrupts you, lining himself up with your entrance as the depth of his voice equally catches you off guard, “just make sure you put it back on after this, yea?”
You winced at the sudden stretch of his cock filling you up just right, and your hips are already trembling at the delicious fullness.
“Channie… it slipped my mind, baby… please,” you say, and you’re not quite sure what it is that you’re begging for, but you always had a habit of going dumb around his cock, even if it’s just resting inside you.
“I gave you a simple order, love… now, do you understand me, yes or no?” He asks more sternly this time, thrusting into you with a sharp hit of his hips, and you internally cringe at yourself for hiccuping at the force.
“Y-yes, I understand,” is all you manage to say as he continues slamming his hips into you at a painfully slow pace, looking you dead in the eye as you crumble beneath his intense gaze.
“Say it again,” he orders, and you listen, gripping at his biceps and biting your lip as an attempt to keep your moans in, but the little whimpers and whines end up spilling out anyway.
You can feel Chan's cock twitch inside you every time you say yes for him, especially with the way your walls are throbbing around his length as he groans the words “good girl” in the midst of it all.
“So so good for me,” he continues, grinding his hips in a way that makes his pelvis graze your clit rythmically, and you’re sure you’re seeing stars once his hand finds your neck, just resting it there to get your attention.
“Good enough to let me cum in you, huh?” He questions, but it’s more so of a suggestion than anything, and you oblige to it, nodding your head in desperation as your hips start to follow the movements of his.
“Yes, baby… w-want you to fill me up so bad,” you whimper, and he lets a groan out right after you… one that makes your stomach flutter with emotions given how beautiful it sounded.
“Gonna put a baby in your pretty little stomach,” he huffs in between fucking you open with all his strength, “and at that point, who cares if you don’t have your ring on? Everyone will know who you belong to once your tummy’s all swollen because of me… tell me who this pussy belongs to…”
“Y-you, Channie,” you blabber out pathetically, your own mouth filling with saliva at how amazing he’s making you feel right now.
“Louder…”
“It’s all- fuckkk… yours, b-baby,” you cry out, and it’s a weak cry at that given the way his hand is tightening around your throat, but you don’t mind… not one bit when it feels THIS. Fucking. Good…
He finally lets his lips find yours in a needy kiss, and a string of spit keeps y’all together as he break away to let out a moan of his own, but you’re pulling him back into you, wanting him to be as close as possible to you in this moment.
The couch starts to creak to the rhythm of his movements, and you couldn’t be more thankful for the large cushions it was made with, otherwise you’re certain the both of you would’ve been on the floor at this point.
“Feels so fucking good inside you, baby… sooo fucking good,” he grunts, and you know he’s almost close just from the way his eyebrows are screwing into adorable little crinkles, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier by the second.
“F-fuck~” you mewl against his lips, feeling the knot in your own stomach tighten as his cock hit mesmerizing places inside you.
He keeps his hand snug around your neck while looking into your eyes, and his hips can’t bare to piston into your cunt any longer once your walls clench around him, making him feel dizzy in the head.
“Cum in me,” you plead with a soft voice while, lips puffy from how hard you’d been biting them, and Chan finally lets himself go, barely getting any extra thrusts in before painting your walls with his hot release, groaning shamelessly like a porn star.
“Oh my God,” he grunts with a strained voice, using his last bit of strength to prevent himself from collapsing on top of you given how spent he is now.
“Wait, Channie,” you say, thighs still trembling a bit as he pulled out of you, a bit too early though for you to remind him that his cum would only spill out—
“Shit,” he swears under his breath upon realizing, rushing to catch the fluid spilling from your cunt now with his fingers, trying not to get it on the couch, but to no avail.
He instead lets his fingers push the cum back into you, holding his wrist there until he’s able to reach for a napkin off of his desk to help clean you up.
“Stop that, baby,” he says with a mischievous smile, but only because your walls were sucking his digits in, preventing him from taking them out to clean them off, “give me some time to recharge and then we can go again, okay?…”
All you can bring yourself to do is hum at his words, and he in turn offers you another gentle smile.
Applying light pressure to your lower stomach, he finally gets your walls to release his fingers from the confines of your sloppy hole, wiping the residue off with the napkin.
“Didn’t expect you to cum this much,” you say in a sleepy tone while reaching for your jeans to slide them back on.
“Me neither,” he chuckles, readjusting his pants before getting up to toss the soiled napkin in the bin nearby, “but uh... just know that if in three weeks, we find out that our first future child was conceived on this couch, never tell this story to anyone…”
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⋆♱✮ Huge thanks to everyone who made it to the end of this fic, concluding DAY 2 of my Kinktober Event !! This was also my first time publishing any written work for Stray Kids (my ult group XD) so feel free to tell me how I did in the comments !! Finally, if you're interested in reading more works like this, check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist here by clicking one of these links !!
⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:
@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash
@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl
@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr
⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:
@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs
@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij
@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess
@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier
@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings @stormy1408
also, check out THIS fic NEXT if you're interested in more...
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nezuscribe · 1 year ago
Text
(nsfw, 18+)
gojo hates the fact that you go on dates.
he despises it whenever you bring another guy over, wants to jam a pencil into his ears whenever he hears you moan (horribly) when the guy fails to make you come.
but he loves it whenever you come sulking back to him.
“mmh, f-fuck, ‘toru slow down!” you cry around his fat cock, your fingers digging into his shoulder has your legs lock around his waist.
“you know you love it,” he seethes, his hair flipping into his face as sweat dots at his forehead. you look gorgeous like this; the makeup you so carefully did earlier smudged and running down your face as tears streak down your cheeks.
“y-yeah, but…” you trail off into a loud whine when he drops his hand down to rub at your clit, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling.
“but what?” he presses, dropping his face down to suck at your neck and chest, leaving behind dark marks in their wake, knowing anybody who saw you would see them.
“you’re usually, fuck, you’re usually not this…” you think about the right word in the midst of his relentless pounding, biting in your lip as he pinches your nipple a between two fingers, tugging at it harshly as you cry out again, “a-aggressive.”
the grin he gives you is toothy, eyes blazing a dark blue as he pulls at your bottom lip, nipping at it as his dick prods at the gummy spot deep within you.
“just need to give you a reminder sweetheart.” he says, nudging at your jaw as you tilt your head towards, giving him room to plant wet and messy kisses on your neck. his hips pick up pace as he feels you clenching more around him, the dim light from his lamp highlighting the way your essence shines around his length, mixing with his pre.
“need a, f-fuck! need a reminder for what?” you pout, your eyes so sweet yet your body so fucking tempting as you pull him closer to you, your nails digging into his back, sure to leave some red lines.
“that, shit,” he takes in a deep breath, his eyes rolling back as he feels himself about to come, “that nobody can fuck you the way i do.”
his thumb on your clit moved faster as your whines and moans fill with his groans, your back arching, tits pressing into his chest as you feel him come inside you, your orgasm following his as you see white. you feel like your about to pass out with the way he continue to pump his dick and and out of you, making sure that you don’t waste his cum.
he slows to a stop, dropping his massive build on top of you as you let him.
“see?” he says after a beat, and despite the fact that he’s cocky and too full of himself, he’s right.
“yeah,” you heave a sigh, giving up as you tug on some of his hairs in annoyance, “you’re my best fuck by far.”
16K notes · View notes
harrysfolklore · 5 months ago
Text
still a little bitch - cs55
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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
INSTAGRAM
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ynpiastri highlight of imola: LEO LECLERC
tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc
view all 3,998 comments
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
view all 4,017 comments
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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INSTAGRAM
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ynpiastri have you guys ever tried hangover pancakes ?
view all 4,173 comments
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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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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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
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misswynters · 2 months ago
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Ekko eating you out
featuring. ekko x fem! reader
warnings. smut (18+), fingering, the reader getting eaten out, ekko being a munch (lol is that the right term?), first time this type of smut :/
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Ekko knelt at the edge of the bed, his warm palms gliding along the soft skin of your thighs, gripping them just hard enough to leave a memory of his touch. The dim light in the room cast shadows on his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the glint of his piercing eyes as they stayed fixed on you.
“You look beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. His thumbs rubbed slow, circular patterns against your clit, his grip tightening every time your hips squirmed in anticipation.
Your breathing hitched as he leaned forward, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His touch sent shivers cascading down your spine, and a soft whimper escaped your lips.
“Patience, babe,” he teased, his breath hot against you. “Let me take my time with you.” His mouth trailed higher, each kiss more deliberate than the last, until his lips hovered just above your folds. Your body ached for him, the desire building with every second of his teasing.
When he finally pressed his mouth against them, the sensation felt amazing. A gasp tore from your lips as his tongue moved expertly, his pace unhurried yet devastatingly precise. He licked a slow, deliberate stripes, his tongue flattening against you before flicking upwards, and the soft wet, sounds filled the room.
“Fuck…” you slightly moaned, your hands clutching the sheets as your hips bucked involuntarily.
He chuckled against you, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. “Stay still for me,” he murmured, his voice almost a growl. His hands slid below your thighs linked his fingers together. He pressed his hands into your stomach, firmly holding against the mattress. “I’ve got you.”
His fingers joined afterwhile, one sliding inside you with ease, curling just right to find that perfect spot. The squelching noise that followed was hot, your arousal coating his fingers as he moved them in rhythm with his tongue.
“God, you’re so wet,” he muttered, his tone laced with admiration and desire. “You sound delicious, babe.”
Your head tipped back, a series of breathless moans escaping you as his movements became more insistent. The pace of his fingers, the kisses his mouth left, and the firm grip on your thighs had you trembling beneath him.
“Ekko, I—”
He looked up at you, his chin glistening, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. “You’re not goin’ anywhere until you are begging for me,” he said, his voice full of playful dominance.
Your legs tried to close instinctively at the overwhelming sensation, but his grip tightened, keeping you wide open for him. He pinned your thighs down with a possessive strength, his fingers digging into your thighs just enough to leave marks.
“Uh-uh,” he chided, his voice a mix of amusement and command. “Please stay still.” The wet slurping noises grew louder as he added another finger, the sensation of being stretched and filled making your body arch against his hold. His tongue moved in tandem, swirling and flicking in a way that had you crying out his name.
Your hands flew to his hair, tugging at his locks as the pleasure became almost too much to bear. “Ekko, please, I’m—” You began to push his head deeper into you trying to make yourself come faster.
“Not yet,” he cut you off, his voice dripping with authority. He pressed his fingers deeper inside of you, curling them perfectly as his tongue focused on your clit. "You'll get your chance to come."
Your thighs trembled under his strong grip, the tightness in your core building to an almost unbearable peak. Each movement of his tongue and fingers sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, the wet sounds echoing in the room showing just how completely he had unraveled you.
"Please"" you whimpered, your voice trembling as you teetered on the edge. "I can't-"
"Just a little more," he urged, his pace quickening. You could now hear him slurping all of your juices as you tried to hold it in. His grip on your thighs tightened even further, his nails digging into your thighs as he held you exactly where he wanted you. "I want you come all over my face."
His words were your undoing. With one last stroke of his tongue, the built up tension snapped, and you came undone with a cry of his name. Your body convulsed beneath him, your thighs trembling as he rode out your orgasm, his mouth and fingers relentless in their movements.
The slick, wet noises continued as he worked you through your high, his tongue savoring every last drop of your release. When you finally collapsed back onto the bed, trembling and spent, he pulled away, his lips and chin glistening as he smirked up at you.
"Damn," he said, his voice laced with pride and satisfaction. "You're even louder than I thought you'd be."
You shot him a weak glare, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. "This was too much," you muttered, though the fondness in your tone was undeniable.
He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before finally releasing your legs. "You did great," he replied, his eyes warm as he crawled up to join you on the bed.
As he pulled you into his arms, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back, you couldn't help but smile, your heart full and your body still buzzing from the hot feeling of his touch.
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taglist. @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @annybah @niredsw @stqrlxght @kriss-w @marilovz @blkmystery @multiverse-fandoms-2001 @turquoizxe @mishellii @kor-0suu @feelya @theamazingmilli @multim00n @m00nd0v3 @sodavrr @maialublmere @radtragedyarcade @spiderhook @night-fall-moon @ekkosh @hoonobono @bandletale @thesecondhandwoman @alientee @duchessmoooon @lilbunny1sworld @lil-kpopstan @mbekgsv @lulumallow @ametheslime @sunshiines-stuff @lolana101 @jadeash434 @hobieeeloverrr @misonesaturou @serene6728 @hellokittyfeenie @repairheartzz
banner. @anitalenia
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umehaji · 1 month ago
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— 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓;
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☾ Content: popstar f!reader much more famous than your pro volleyball player boyfriend- you finally hard launch your relationship on instagram but the public reaction isn't what you expect, so you take matters into your own hands
ft. Ushijima Wakatoshi, Hinata Shouyou, Miya Atsumu, Bokuto Koutarou, Kageyama Tobio
☾ A/N: inspired by dua lipa and callum turner and my girl sabrina
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— 𝐔𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐖𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢;
Ushijima doesn't even have an instagram, naturally. the closest thing is he's got is his team's account, curated and managed by the PR team. so when you wiggle your phone in front of him to show him the chosen piece for your account, he just gives it a cursory glance and nods. the photo is from backstage at one of your concerts earlier this month: you, glowing with joy, arm slung casually around his neck, leaning into him as you beam up at him with a smile that could light up your stadiums. he's got one arm wrapped securely around your waist, usual stoic expression softened by a warmth in his eyes as he gazes down at you- one that only you seem to be able to draw out of him.
but the reactions to your post are swift and crushing. you're beyond proud of Ushijima- proud of his quiet strength, his dedication, his raw talent. you know you shouldn’t and it shouldn’t—doesn’t—matter, but your thumb keeps scrolling through the comments. each one feels like a knife twisting deeper, a personal attack, particularly the ones suggesting he doesn't care, that he looks like he's got the emotional depth of a spoon, that this is all just a PR move somehow. watching the sweetest man you know not get the recognition he truly deserves hurts more than you want to admit.
ᯓ🏐
when Ushijima steps into your shared bedroom, shirtless, his hair still damp from a post-workout shower and sweatpants slung low on his hips, his gaze finds you sitting at your vanity. the soft light of the mirror highlights your delicate features, casting a warm glow over your pretty face.
"toshi," you greet him warmly, turning toward him with an inviting smile. he pads over to you, barefoot, and you tilt your chin up expectantly. he rests one hand on the back of your chair, the other on the edge of your desk and leans down, capturing your lips in a long, slow kiss, his head tilting to deepen it as he lifts a hand to your cheek, gently smoothing his thumb across your soft skin before drawing back, a small smile curving up on his lips when he sees the dazed look in your eyes.
"morning, love." he says simply, before walking off to the kitchen to make himself a protein shake. completely oblivious to the phone propped up against your mirror, the livestream on the screen, and the chaos that you've just unleashed within your fanbase.
readerfanatic_official joined popicon4life just fell to my knees screaming in the 711 parking lot platinum_readerstan she's dating a TREE tinyreader777 'morning love'???...our queen is built different i would've evaporated on the spot bipbop_23 ...i get it now readerfan2024 guess i'm into volleyball now glitznglamfan girl i'm scared for ur holes
— 𝐇𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐲𝐨𝐮;
it's a cute photo: the two of you on a beach at a resort, there for one of Oikawa's games. Hinata's got his head in your lap, one of your hands gently running through his messy orange hair while your other hand rests on his chest. you're gazing out at the sea, a serene smile gracing your face as you enjoy the view, while Hinata looks up at you, equally captivated by what he sees.
the comments that flood in are anything but kind. most of them poke fun at his height, with fans wondering how he managed to catch your eye when he's fighting gravity every day, others insisting that he must just be very funny. and it doesn’t bother Hinata at all, not that you can tell- he just scratches the back of his head and laughs, exclaiming that it's nothing he hasn't heard before, that he’ll just have to work twice as hard to earn your fans’ approval. ignoring your protests that he has nothing to prove.
ᯓ🏐
a few eagle-eyed fans are the first ones to notice it and not long after, screenshots of your activity start to circulate. first it's you liking an edit of Hinata lifting his shirt during ones of his games to wipe sweat off his brow. then it's a clip of him leaping into the air, showing off his energy and athleticism. a third like is a snapshot of Hinata celebrating a victory, fists clenched and knees bent, muscles in his thighs flexed as he roars with triumph.
the one that nips it in the bud is when you share a post to your story. it’s a reel- a compilation of Hinata’s spikes, his raw energy and unstoppable power lighting up the court as he slams the ball past his opponents. your fans lose it when you post a mirror selfie on the same day: you've got your back turned toward the mirror, all dolled up for an award ceremony in a gown that leaves nothing and everything to the imagination. you look good, accentuated by the man at your side who, unlike you, is facing the mirror. but Hinata isn't looking at the camera- his heated gaze is on your reflection instead. one of his arms is curved loosely around your waist, hand resting just above your ass.
the internet goes wild.
mvpmichelle8 2h 385 likes our girl is thirsting publicly on main i respect it robsessed247 2h 306 likes rip to her ass cheeks keanue_433 2h 243 likes ...what team does he play for again stanacctreader 1h 178 likes she got herself a short KING FR newvolley_98 1h 85 likes so when’s the next game where you get a front-row seat to his… spikes? 🥵
— 𝐌𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐀𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮;
you don’t exactly share the photo yourself, but it might as well be yours. when Vogue posts the cover shot and tags you, it goes viral almost instantly. because Atsumu is seated in a luxurious chair, looking every bit like a king in his perfectly tailored suit, legs spread confidently, an air of dominance about him. you're perched on the armrest beside him, the slit of your black dress exposing the smooth curves of your body. one of your hands is loosely intertwined with his, resting on your thigh. the chemistry is palpable, electric. the sultry confidence in your posture paired with the intensity in Atsumu's gaze makes it impossible to look away. paired with the article about your relationship, this is a power couple at its finest.
or at least so you think.
the opinions of your fans are mixed, but those who disapprove don't hold back. they say that he must be cheating on you, that he looks untrustworthy, that his self-assured interview quotes only highlight how self-absorbed he is, implying he’s too consumed with himself to ever treat you right. Atsumu's ready to fight everyone questioning his devotion to you before you remind him that he can’t spend all day replying to hate comments- he has practice, and that you’ll handle it.
ᯓ🏐
you show up to the world championship that month with your entourage in tow. you visit Atsumu in his locker room to wish him good luck, ignoring the way his teammates trip over themselves gaping at you. he almost doesn’t let you leave, seizing you in a deep kiss that leaves you a little unsteady on your feet, but you plan a firm hand on his chest because you have places to be, a job to do.
when Atsumu steps up to serve and you watch as his routine unfolds, the familiar movements flowing effortlessly, your PR team is at the ready. his signature has evolved since his early days, the fist still a familiar gesture, but now his index finger uncurls at the last moment, pointing into the crowd. he doesn’t need to look; he always knows exactly where you are. but today, it’s different. you’re not in the shadows, hiding behind sunglasses or a baseball cap. today, you’re wearing his jersey, sitting front and center, in the best seat in the house. you’re clapping louder than anyone else, beaming so hard your cheeks hurt.
this time, when he finds you in the crowd, the whole world is watching.
Us Weekly: Atsumu Miya Makes History with Serve: Fans Go Wild over Major 'Couple Goals' Moment at the World Championship Buzzfeed: Is He Pointing to Y/N? 10 Moments Atsumu Miya Was Literally Screaming 'I Love You' Sports Illustrated: Atsumu Miya’s Serve Gets Personal: The Unspoken Gesture You Didn’t Know Was for Y/N Kyodo News: Fans Flock to See Miya Atsumu's Relationship with Global Sensation Y/N in Full View Cosmopolitan: Y/N and Atsumu Miya: From Music Charts to Volleyball Courts—Their Love Story (Exclusive)
— 𝐁𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐊𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮;
what you think is a beautiful moment, your fans interpret quite differently. in the photo you post, Bokuto's strong arms are wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him as he hugs you from behind. his hands are positioned low on your abdomen, fingers spread wide and pressing down lightly, a playful gesture that has you squirming in response. the candid shot your manager took captures you in mid-laugh. you're tilting away from him, hands gripping his wrists, body twisted in a half-escape as though you're trying to dodge his ticklish touch. Bokuto's lips are pressed softly to the side of your neck, the curve of your shoulder partly obscuring his face. his expression is partially hidden, but the corner of his mischievous grin peeks out, his eyes glinting at the camera as he looks up right at that moment.
your fans tear him apart, their words dripping with criticism- accusing him of being too touchy, claiming that you don’t want him like that, that he's too obsessed, too forward. the comments flood in, one after another, each one more biting than the last. the relentless stream of negativity cuts deep, and you can see the toll it takes on Bokuto as he scrolls on his phone with a downtrodden look. you tell him to ignore it, that he has nothing to worry about, but you can tell it does little to lift his spirits.
ᯓ🏐
you show him that night just how deeply you care about him, straddling his lap and gently cupping his face in your hands. your lips meet his in a soft, reverent kiss, a silent exchange that you hope conveys volumes. you murmur against his mouth, telling him how perfect he is, watching with a quiet smile as the tips of his ears go red. but then he shifts, flipping you over on the bed, caging you in with thick arms all while still blushing so prettily. and when you feel something hard and big pressing against your inner thigh, you wonder what you've gotten yourself into.
Bokuto goes even redder the next day when he wakes up to incessant texting from his teammates and he opens social media to find a photo on your feed: it's of him shirtless, lying on his front and cradling a pillow with his cheek smooshed into it, his hair down and expression peaceful. what's not so peaceful is the view of his bare back- red streaks running down his tanned skin, unmistakably from your fingers. the white sheets thrown over his legs obscure anything from the waist down but his face flushes deeper as he takes in the rest of the intimate scene.
you've got one hand resting gently on his head, fingers woven loosely in his hair, thumb caressing his cheek mid-stroke. it's soft, casual, possessive.
fan_gurl_4 1h 403 likes the way we thought HE was the obsessed one...how the turn tables bobfriend_76 1h 386 likes she's marking her territory glamjam69 1h 207 likes ...this ain't demure or mindful at all menin4k22 45m 146 likes ma’am for science, p-please remove those sheets readerfan234 14m 121 likes the way she's touching him...i need a moment to grieve 😩
— 𝐊𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐨;
the release party for your new album goes off without a hitch, and you score tons of cute photos with Kageyama, cuddling up to him that night to scroll through and select the best ones. your top choice is one of the more simple shots: you, with one hand resting on his chest, leaning into the arm he’s wrapped around your waist. his long fingers were hot against your skin through the delicate fabric of your dress, and you swear you can still feel the imprints of them. he's serious in the shot, his lips set in a stern line as he gazes into the camera, but you adore that look on him. especially when that same gaze shifts to you, hinting at something deeper, something darker, waiting for later.
your fans, however, don't see what you do. so you wake up to a barrage of comments, about how he looks boring, how he probably doesn't know a single one of your lyrics, how you could do so much better. naturally, Kageyama doesn't give a single shit as to what your fans think about him. just kisses you goodbye and heads off to practice, duffel bag slung over his broad shoulder. but you care.
ᯓ🏐
it takes a fair amount of convincing and a hefty dose of bribery, which somehow includes you securing an advertisement contract with one of Kageyama's favorite yogurt brands, but he finally agrees to appear in the music video for your latest hit. though, you can't help but think it had more to do with you casually hinting that your company had intended on pulling in one of the hottest actors currently on the scene, known for making girls swoon at meet-and-greets.
he plays a cop arresting you for a string of crimes you commit in the name of revenge on your cheating ex, culminating in him pushing you down in the backseat of his patrol car. it's hot, steamy, and when he shoves his knee between your legs, leaning over you with one hand pinning your wrists above your head, you won't deny that you make a mental note to recreate this scene later, without the cameras.
the music video shatters records and skyrockets to the top of the charts.
and the comments this time? well. they speak for themselves.
bops234 • 1 day ago this awakened something in me fando23 • 12 hours ago i'm going to need this man's @ immediately barkbarkbark_89 • 12 hours ago are we sure he doesn't want to switch career paths stanacctreader • 10 hours ago i thought he was just a plain slice of milk bread but boy was i wrong freedomsings145 1h • 5 hours ago casting your real life boyfriend as the main romantic lead in your music video is such a power move, as always our queen's taste is IMPECCABLE atsumumiya • 2 hours ago he looks like a foot
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catdia · 3 months ago
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Sevika with a Chubby S/o pt.2
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Sevika is a very jealous and prideful individual. she doesn’t take kindly to others that try to take you away from her
when Finn tried to get you close to him, she killed half his goons as a warning
teaches you basic self defense, how to use your body as an advantage in combat
ended with both of you making out on the practice mats
gave you a knife and handgun as a birthday present
all your clothing is automatically hers as well. loves wearing your shirts and hoodies when running errands
Sevika has MASSIVE hips, she doesn’t like them that much because pants never fit her waist right. but you love them!
and you also don’t like when pants highlight your underbelly. if she sees your belly in any capacity she’s grabbing that thing like a vice
uses your stuff before you ever get to. that new Piltovan skin care you got? Sevika gives it 10/10
eats all your snacks, even the healthy ones that taste “like cardboard”
the scar on her temple gets sensitive with the cold, uses your tummy as a heating pad when cuddling
one of Sevika’s love languages is bringing you fresh vegetables and fruit she smuggled from overseas
seeing your eyes sparkle in delight as you eat the sweet fruits makes her love her shitty job a little more
she got your nickname “peach” because of your love of fruit (and your fat ass)
if there is a place on earth that can be considered hell is when your periods sync up. Both in pain and grumpy.
when it’s just you, she gives you princess treatment (more than usual). even going as far as making homemade soup
i believe Sevika doesn’t get her period as frequently as she used to. mainly thanks to the amount of Shimmer she uses
Shimmer is the reason you almost had a terrible fall out. it was doing your woman more harm than good. making her extremely aggressive to the point where she threw and broke the matching clay mugs you gave her as an anniversary present. you spent almost two months making them
all of this because you threw away her last Shimmer supply. you just couldn’t she her like that anymore
you sobbed as you collected the pieces of the floor. so preciously putting them on your lap as she just watched in horror. Sevika had never seen you so broken. What had she done?
Sevika kneeled in front of you trying to make everything right. picking up little colorful shards of the floor. but you pushed her onto her feet. you pointed at the door.
“Get out…”
“Peach, please I—“
“Get the fuck out Sevika!”
she spend the next few weeks crashing in Silco’s office. drinking her sorrows away. while going cold turkey off Shimmer
remembering your soft cheeks stained with tears and trembling shoulders. she never had seen you so angry
once she had the courage (and by that I mean Silco and Jinx kicking her out for beign love sick) to come back home, she didn’t grasp how much she actually needed your love
it was a positive sign that you let her in. like a silent “prove me wrong”
you made her sleep on the couch for weeks. ignoring all Sevika’s attempts of affection. walking away when she got too close, not drinking the coffee she made for you in the mornings, covering your body quickly whenever she walked into the bathroom after your showers
Janna, did she miss having your body on hers. having you cuddle her to sleep. now she is stuck in this ratty couch. she missed how you moaned, what you tasted like. Sevika was unbelievably horny
but she needed to wait for you to make the first move out of respect for the pain she caused
when she was sleeping on the sofa you woke her up by grinding your cunt on her thigh. only wearing your night robe. open in the middle, nipples hard and belly creasing on your pelvis. you placed her mechanical arm on your temple. cradling her metal palm with your lips
“Fuck me like you mean it, ‘vika! Make me your woman again.”
Sevika saw the fire in your eyes, and the burn was a prize she was willing to take
you kissed each other hard, clawing at clothing and skin. teeth clashing. every touch was personal. sensual. like a withered plant in water
even if the sun never warmed the underground it didn’t matter to her. because the sun couldn’t ever bring her life like you did
Sevika had never made love before. only saw sex as carnal lust. but having you vulnerable in front of her and having given her forgiveness was the best gift she could have asked for. the gift of hope and chance. she touched you like a lover, a soulmate.
you laid naked on her chest, blissed out in pleasure. in the afterglow of sex. Sevika groping the flesh of your ass. as she blew cigarette smoke into the air. you were going to complain about the smell in the morning.
“I quit Shimmer.”
you smiled into her exposed skin. Sevika was a blunt woman, and you appreciated that part of her.
“Good.”
“Love you, doll.”
“Mmmm — me too Sevika.”
and you definitely made her go to one of those pottery couples classes to replace the mugs she broke
Sevika wasn’t getting off thaaattt easy
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kooyabooya · 11 days ago
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ENTROPY
m reader x karina // 13k words
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“It’s a stupid bet, Karina.” 
Karina lifts an eyebrow, only at certain points in conversation where she thinks your opinion is highly invalid. 
“No, it isn’t. You didn’t even let me properly explain,” she tells you, “All I want is a favor. Not a bet.” 
“It’s still asking a lot from me when I’m already dealing with your bullshit.” 
She sighs, leaning back on the counter. You’ve got a hand to your hip and an expression on your face that says: “fuck off six ways back to Sunday,” That’s how these usual briefings go, the quick dump or fill-in of whatever the fuck is worth sharing in each others’ lives. 
Instead, she raises her hands up in surrender, lips pulled inward. “Fine. Would it be better for me to come back to you on this sometime later?” 
“Can I suggest not having you bother me ever again?” 
A snort, then a cackle is what she gives. So, you roll your eyes because you know that it's always, always a tell-all for disaster. 
“Oh honey,” she says, patting your shoulder while you look over to see her running off to do her own thing, “You’re gonna be stuck with me for a long time. You just haven’t seen it yet.” 
To bring things up to speed: you didn’t know what the fuck you were thinking when you brought Karina along as your roommate. 
At first, things were great. 
The living styles were well complimented. Separate rooms, similar schedules, the usual activities you’ve done together for fun. Even the chores were assigned (though by second nature and good habits). This small space was well put to be a slice of home away from home whilst going through the ranks of college. 
She invited some of her friends and classmates over from time to time; some of which you had a partial interest in. Sometimes you’re out with Karina’s setups, other times she’s the one that’s out and about while you were holding the fort down. For the most part, life was easy having your best friend since middle school hang around with you. 
Still, no issues to mention whatsoever. 
But then- 
“Do you have a minute?” 
It’s 8 pm on a Saturday and Karina’s coming to you for her regular yaps and endless rants since the girl just talks and talks and talks. 
You curse at yourself at times for always being the listener.
“Yeah,” you say, closing your laptop on the kitchen island when she rounds the corner, coming to your side. “I don’t have anything, so I’ve always got time.” 
You’re hoping that it isn’t anything out of the ordinary; from the looks of things, all signs seem to point that way. She’s in her sports shorts with one of your (stolen) t-shirts - the collar cut off highlighting her shoulder - hair tied up and in glasses, you automatically assume that she isn’t going anywhere. 
“Remember when I brought up that thing?” 
“What thing?” 
Then it hits you: that thing. 
You had your fingers crossed that she would forget about asking you for whatever she needed you for. Sucks that she had a good memory - not only that, you’ve made yourself reliable for her so many times before; turning her down was simply an impossibility. 
Not all heroes wear capes, sadly. 
Karina slaps your shoulder, easily seeing through your mask of sarcasm. 
“Don’t act dumb, genius. That ‘thing’ was just coming along with me for once.” 
Her brows furrowed, the corners of her lips tracking back across her cheeks. You can’t say no let alone ignore the poor girl. 
“You know me with outings,” you reason, sensible. In most cases like these, Karina comes to you out of others to bring up her issues, her dilemmas; her self-inquisitions, as she would like to call them from time to time. And usually, they’re straightforward. This should be an easy cakewalk. “I’m all for it, but what’s the point when you force me to be more sociable when you’re dragging me around?” 
“Because maybe you’re the biggest pussy I’ve had the misfortune of being with.” Karina huffs, arms crossed and face left in distress. She examines you so closely under her microscope that it’s borderline invasive - but you don’t tell her that. So you twine your fingers in between each other and return the laser-focused stare she’s giving you, taunting almost along the lines of - look, if you’re gonna be convincing, you gotta do better than that. 
All she does is throw a shoulder shrug, awkwardly -  dropping them so fast that you’re putting everything in your willpower to not notice the subtle bounce of her chest. 
Her palm faces up toward the ceiling, hoping for a response. You purse your lips out to spite her. She has to deal with your bullshit head-on, tragically. 
“It’s always the work, gym, eat, sleep, do more work at home, and repeat. All the fucking time. So bland and-” 
You tilt your head the more her insults fill your ears. 
“You disgustingly piss me off.” 
Her fingers press on your forehead when you give the subtle eye smile and smirk combination, finally pushed over the edge now she doesn’t want anything to do with you. She paces around the kitchen and you can see her eyes dart over at the corner. 
She won’t leave you alone. 
Not until she gets what she wants. 
Besides, you’ve learned that Karina isn’t very good at persuading people to do something. Though eventually- 
“Why didn’t you just say you’re inviting me to go out for a night?” You ask, knowing that the bluntness is one of the few ways to bring Karina back around once she’s done with her tantalizing tangents. “You wouldn’t be here going crazy if you just told me-” 
“Because you’re the one who can’t seem to get it through your thick-ass skull in the first place!” She exclaims, first underneath her shirt that reveals some of the skin on her waist, the ends of her panties now apparent the more her boxer shorts keep slacking off her hips. You can’t afford to stare. You know you can’t. 
The recurring cycle of interest: keeps coming back to haunt you. 
You concluded or accepted the fact years ago that Karina was never meant to be yours. Yet- she would always come to you whenever she had boy problems or wanted your opinion on what she should wear or do with every single one of her crushes she ever had throughout her life, hiding the fact that you wanted to be one of them at some point. 
All those wet dreams, fantasies, the fake situations of romance you’ve deluded yourself into - those kinds of things had to be channeled into something else to fill the space. 
You’ve kept it cool. Sometimes, in between the bleeding weeks, where she’s roaming around the house in the shortest pair of shorts, the tightest of tank tops, the curves way more present when she’s light on the balls of her feet, you eventually broke and resorted to that trusty old lotion and sock combo behind the door to your room. 
With a girl dressed like that, and those tits filling up your brain- 
(You’d be committing perjury holding yourself back for as long as you did.) 
“Okay, for the last time,” says Karina, hands stacked and her feet crossed. “All I ask is for you to just get out of the apartment for once, and have some fun. Is that hard?” 
You shake your head. “No, of course it isn’t.” 
Karina nods, content. She takes off her glasses and puts it on the marble counter, her pretty lashes batting with those violet-black eyes of hers. “There. That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” 
And there she goes, tapping your forearm while you nod in agreement; does a little hop in place like some cute bunny, her shirt loose and flowing and moving everywhere. She’s such a fucking bitch. So shameless. This girl’s attitude will be the death of you. 
She’s shaking her fists up in the air, doing some cha-cha move. The shirt isn’t doing her justice for her fucking breasts. 
Then she leans in, close. Her breath grazes your face and neck. She scrunches her nose while you’re ‘shooing’ her away; aware of the message and her point. Karina then steps back, tying a knot to her shirt, making her figure a lot more apparent. By some crazy form of timing, you turn your body towards her, freezing in place while the shirt molds around her chest, her waist - you’re clenching your jaw and gritting your teeth behind your lips since you wonder if she’s doing it on purpose. 
The imagination. The possibilities. 
“C’mon,” Karina says, reaching for your hand and tugging it, tilting her head up and angrily pouting. For fucks sake, the slightest resistance of pull makes those mounds bounce in place. You’re sick and twisted; she’s the sole reason to blame. “I want you to be my plus one.” 
“Had I not already said yes?” You’re asking, swearing under your breath. The ‘plus one’ role is a direct translation to ‘hey, i’m going to get fucked up tonight, and i want you to be there on standby to carry me home or even dd, okay?’. You remember from past experiences that it also means that being with her is a dice roll of what kind of Karina you have to deal with: the kissy Karina, the pissed-off Karina, the Karina with the ‘carry me home with the eyes that say fuck me until I can’t walk’ attitude. 
Sigh and roll your eyes back, it’s burned into your memory anyway. 
Putting it in layman’s terms wasn’t gonna cut it. Being honest isn’t gonna change her mind. You could get the King of England to threaten her for a price on her head and she’ll still find a way to get it overturned. 
As nicely as you’d want to be, it can only hold for so long. 
Karina isn’t the kind of person to throw you into the fire right away -no, she’s smarter than that. 
“You did,” she says, shaking her head side to side, moving her shoulders along since you’ve put her in a good mood. You’re trying to decode the action to the expression, connecting the dots possible if she’s fucking around or being genuine. Give into the preaching and encouragement that if you did go with her you’d have your fun with someone like her carrying half her energy - okay, you have a type; nothing wrong with that, but still. “Why? Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts already?” 
You have a hand up along with your mouth open; Karina’s a bit dense to think pragmatically. 
“What’s it gonna take with you to get off of your lazy ass and live life? When was the last time you and I went out together and did some dumb shit? That was when you had that thing with- who was that one girl? Winter? Or was it Giselle?” Karina carries on, trailing off with you walking not far from her. 
She pulls the hair tie out of her head - after what it seems to be five minutes since putting it on - her head moves to let the messy locks flow and pool behind her back, stretching her arms out before turning left and into her room. You stop at the doorway when she turns around, arms braced to the frame, smirking. 
“You said you weren’t doing anything, right? And you don’t have work until next week, right? So that automatically means that you’re free for the weekend?” 
“Well, yeah. Don’t forget that you went out with me and Ningning for that boring ass movie. So please, if you stop giving me shit for this, can I at least get ready before we head out?” 
Karina groans. “Ugh, why are you so fucking difficult to work with? I’ve set you up with three of my friends so far and only one of them has gotten close to getting in bed with you.” 
“Maybe I’m complicated,” you say back, turning the other cheek and thinking about that specific time not that long ago when she gave you the double thumbs up before being dragged by Winter onto the dance floor at that club near the school. 
“Complicated people don’t put their hands behind their back and let the girl get all touchy with them,” she teases, stopping in the middle of your doorway, shirt off and all she’s got is that jet black bra with the thinnest straps you’ve ever seen on her collarbones, but she doesn’t stop there: “Might I add that you wanted to try your luck into dating again and- hey. I know that kiss with Winter was the best one you’ve had in a while.” 
Karina smiles at your confused expression, hitting a pressure point. You’ve folded for girls before. She was there for some part of the fun. It’s a weakness; playing to your ideal characteristics and all she has to do is play the matchmaker and watch the magic happen. She got close. Almost. The support was unwavering, but you’re still searching. 
You don’t take long to get yourself situated, putting on whatever essentials you felt was right. Karina took a little bit more time to get ready. You know how she is: every part of her outfit has to be thought-out and well-layered if means of raising the ‘down to get fucked’ meter up past the 100-point scale. Sometimes it takes five minutes, other times it takes hours. 
She walks out of the hallway in a simple outfit. A grey tank top and baggy jeans that nearly cover her feet. Her brown leather jacket was the finishing touch draped around her arm, wrist, and fingers shining in her typical jewelry. 
The makeup was light too, a soft blush applied but the main culprit was her lips - and man, they have no right being that plump. 
“You’re staring.” 
A blink and a smirk here. An eyebrow raised soon after: “Are you saying I’m being rude?” 
“No.” 
It doesn’t register in your mind that she’s all up in your space the next second, holding your breath when she looks up to your chin. 
“Is there something that you want to tell me?” 
“Karina-” 
“C’mon, you’ve thought about me that way at least once-” 
“Fucks sake Karina, you’re delusional. I would never. ” 
She nods with a devilish grin, tilting her chin up, humming. You’re breathing out of your nostrils when she backs away, heading over to the door to put on her shoes. Everything that this woman does makes you reconsider the consequences (but hey, you’ve imagined what it would be like for her to wake up in your bed, wear your clothes she won’t think of returning unless you fuck that bratty attitude off her tongue.) A woman like her who can do it all, and you’re holding her jacket once you and her step out of the apartment and close the door. 
Most people would give their praise and high regard for putting up with her for this long because you’ve held out longer than anyone would have imagined. 
You’ve dealt with her energy all these years, the countless shenanigans that you have gone through with her since high school, and occasions where she shouldn’t have dragged you in but still did anyway. There’s a tolerance that one can only take so much of with Karina, and you always fail at that. (Always.) 
She’s too good to be real. 
Later, she’s on the phone, calling and texting her other friends that she planned on meeting up with, waiting out in the front yard while you’re keeping her close - like what a natural bodyguard would do with their assignment. 
“Are you wearing my jacket?” asks Karina, pinching at the pelt. “I was gonna use that for later.” 
“I look better in it,” you muse. “But I’ll give it back to you later when it gets colder.” 
“I’m gonna need it later for my look.” 
“That look you have right now is gonna get you fucked.” 
Karina gives you the same tilt of her head; this time, there’s a slight twinkle in her eyes that looks like the lightbulb just went off in her head. You’ve lit the match within her or signed someone off to their demise waiting for them in the next hour or so. 
She bites down her smile, her ego inflated. “Guess we can put that as a separate bet between us, then.” 
Well. 
Fuck.
You realize right away that going out didn’t seem to be a bad idea after all. 
Plus, it’s only been roughly two hours since Karina convinced you to help her out and tag along so now you’re here: a half-full cup of her go-to and watching the sight of everyone having their fun with one other person or in a group. She, on the other hand, has a guy with her - breaking down the awkward wall and playing the act of softening up with the blaring music. 
It’s a steady groove, music flows in her body so elegantly. 
The ambiance alone pounds your eardrums, eyes occasionally getting blinded by the flashing lights coming from the DJ’s stage, dancing her heart away and letting loose because it’s the weekend. She’s not the only one, too. Her little entourage surrounds her, dancing along and giving their attention to Karina - each one of them attractive and dazzling to look at. Karina was never one for the limelight, but once she’s got something going, it never leaves her. 
You can catch yourself getting sucked in the moment you laid your eyes back on her. 
The law of attraction: embodied by Karina. A phenomenon that you’ve learned happens on a weekend basis. Everyone that knows or has met her for the first time, is automatically influenced by her which doesn’t take much for that to happen. Some are joining in for the vibe, while others are trying to lean into her ear and get her attention that way, let their bodies do the talking, and see if she’s willing. 
Bad news, this girl is. You’re treading dangerous waters carefully. 
Moment by moment, every single guy who tries to approach Karina retreat in dejection and defeat. You can see it in their heads hanging in shame, the slanted lips, some make a last-ditch effort to bring her back to the bar for another drink, only to be stopped with the simple raised hand of hers, friends coming along as reinforcements to stop the inquisitions. 
Her eyes lock on to you, watching from afar. Like a lighthouse; a signal and a haven for her to find comfort in. She motions you to come to the dance floor; and to that, you raise your glass in earnest, insisting that where you are right now is fine. 
You keep staring, sipping. 
She’s fixed up her top again to where the curves are much more present than usual. 
So you decide to down your bearings, hoping that the thought of Karina could be swallowed down with ease; her damned smile, head tilts,  the swaying of her body (along with bouncing in some places without a care in the world) to the upbeat tunes until she’ll decide she can’t do it anymore. 
At some point, she’ll have to come get you to join. 
And you’ve accepted that it will happen sooner or later. 
Your shoulder gets bumped by one of the people making their way through on accident, diverting your attention for a second. Then- 
Karina’s out of your line of sight. 
Next thing you know- 
She taps your shoulder, tugging on your shirt. 
“Hey-” 
The words you were going to say were: ‘hey, what gives?’ or ‘something wrong?’; but for some reason, you’re left in a stun lock - a trance. There’s also another thing that you realize right away when she has her arms slithering around your middle and up your shoulders. 
She looks around as you track her head movements, checking for something - ensuring that the coast is clear - you can start to get an idea of what she’s trying to do. Your brows furrow, thrown off by Karina’s stoic expression. It’s impossible to see or understand what’s going through her head, but she nicks her head back towards the dance floor, and you instantly get the message. 
“Need you in here, now,” she mouths, but you tilt your head down to hear her repeat it. She then pulls onto the floor while you’re also surveying the crowd, seeing if there was anything fishy. 
Karina guides your hands around her waist, noticing her fingers twitch as they graze your forearm, hinting that something was off. You’ve been near her before, but not like this. She then bumps into a few people standing behind her, prompting you to pull her back towards you - pressing her body, hand now to your neck, chin resting on top of her head- 
You can deduce that this is not her usual self - the reverberating bass pounding into your bodies and hers serving as this sort of proxy to dance more and think less. 
She scratches the ends of your hair right above the nape, irises burning into your face. You assume that this was the favor that she was talking about: going to the club with her and having a good time? Why the fuck did she have to make it sound so complicated in the first place?
“Stay close to me, okay? There’s this guy that’s been trailing us since we got here. I just need some time - help me out, please.” 
You look over your shoulder, Karina centers herself with her hands cupped around your neck, peering over as well. The strobe light blinds your vision for a second before turning back. “Wait, how can you be sure?” 
“Trust me,” she tells you, expression flat, serious. “You’ve got a good sixth sense about these kinds of things anyway, you’ll know.” 
“But-” 
“Isn’t that the guy you mentioned just now-” 
Karina’s quick to get a finger between your lips, darts her eyes out then onto you. The indication alone confirms all of your suspicions. You can’t even see the poor guy, not when the flashing lights are giving you nothing but snapshots amongst the silhouettes and shapes in the dark. “Look, be cool. You’re safe with me. If he gets close I’ll get in–” 
“No wait- it’s fine. Just leave him alone,” she butts in, leaning her head against your chest so she can hide her face. “This is already good, okay? You did great.” 
You cradle the side of her head when she looks up, tongue caught between her teeth slightly. “No, I want to see what was his deal-” 
“Can you shut the fuck up already?” 
“Karina, I-” 
She pulls your head into hers: locking lips, derailing your train of thought. 
You make a sound in her mouth in response to the confusion, but it stops the bickering you two were doing a few seconds ago. She could feel you pull away, but leans her head up back for more, claiming your lips through the kiss; you swear that you and her aren’t that drunk yet. 
It shuts you up, alright. A moment of reprieve that doesn’t give you any time to think because fuck, this girl is making you second guess every single choice you’ve made in your life up till this point, wondering if you’re ever going to take your golden chance or give Karina an earful when you and her get back home later. 
Your fingers dig into the dips of her lower back, her hands on your cheeks, overloading your senses with her lips, giving you hard teeth and a swiping tongue - no time to think or catch up. 
The rest of the world fades out from your head, nothing between you and Karina putting everything on the line in terms of her feelings - almost like the roles had been reversed with her struggling to believe you had a thing for her and you letting your actions do all the talking.
You’re not thinking about the amount of regret you’ll have once all of this is over. Friends just don’t kiss each other out of the blue. No. Karina fed you the false belief that you’d do anything she’d ask you to do, which is why you’re doing this with her. You think this is all a dream, but you sense everything; that diminishes the present thought right away. 
You’ll give as much passion back to Karina, because it’s what you would do for her regardless:
Follow her lead, and listen to what she says; there’s always something with her that you’re blindly agreeing to. 
Karina pulls away for a moment to breathe, next thing you know her tongue slips past against yours, and your grip on her body becomes a lot less pleasant since she’s unleashed that craving hidden within. 
You touch her teeth, smiling. Her forehead gently rubs against yours, breaking the kiss, when you notice it in your peripheral: 
A girl with a hand to her mouth.
One girl next to her with her hand wound up in her hair, in complete shock. 
The third girl behind the two nodded in approval with a sly smirk. 
Yeji, Ryujin, and Yujin: Karina’s other cute little trio, watching their lovely friends finally have their moment together. 
You look back at Karina, rubbing her bottom lip with her finger, internalizing the taste of you. 
Then the realization settles in. 
“That guy backed away from us,” she tells you, “but I gotta say, you’ve outdone yourself.” 
You glance over to see Karina’s trio watch as said guy turns his back into the crowd, retreating away. 
“What’s the matter? Speechless?” she asks again, finger happily dancing along your skin, and your hands aren’t moving off her body. You’ve never been shy with her, except this one time: right now. 
“Never with you,” you answer, matching her smug expression. “Never.” 
Karina hides her true intention again for a second, knowing that it’ll wither away the more she acts like this. Right, she can say one thing, though her actions are so easy to read from the minute she’s invaded your personal space. 
This girl is bad news in everything.
So you hold your gaze with her, wondering, connecting the dots. Speculating how long she’s been planning for this to happen, to be like every other guy that’s ever tried to get her in their bed or between those legs. Even so, she knows you’re not simple to break, and that’s where she’s got you. “I knew you had to be sure somehow, just didn’t think you’d go this far.” 
“Desperate times, desperate measures.” Karina eyes cross slightly as she stares at you, thumb grazing along your chin. “You were taking too long for my liking.” 
Liking? Surely not. 
There’s no possible way she could-
“What the hell does that mean?” You ask, staring back, tongue tip between your teeth. Your breathing starts to shallow. 
Karina leans into the side of your head, amidst the noise of the speakers and funneling her voice well in your ear canal. “It doesn’t make sense to me, you know. How we’ve known each other for this long, and we haven’t thought of even trying it at least once.” 
She knows where she’s going with this - all those times you’ve ogled at her hoping that she wouldn’t notice - or all of those times where you’ve talked about everything that had to involve life at any given point. You’d hoped that you dodge the question for a little longer. 
Karina’s friends managed to crack it out of you a while back, remembering it well. Her touch on your body has gone gentler, never breaking her gaze on you.
“How come you and I have never hooked up with each other?” 
You freeze. Feel the warmth spread across your cheeks; it’s an immediate catch, and you were praying silently that this was a dream. 
Exposed. Is what you are. 
Though Karina doesn’t falter here. Her eyes shimmer in the dim lighting. Wistful. You’re giving her enough time to figure out where your head was leveled at; like she would understand whether you wanted this or not. 
“Honestly, we could’ve.” You admit, with a sharp inhale. Hoping that the answer alone is enough for her sake. “Like- god, it would’ve been so easy. I wanted-” 
“Is it because you and I are just friends? That’s complete bullshit if that’s what you’re sticking with. I’ve seen you look at me that way before, or with my back turned; goes to show that you don’t have what it takes to get what you want, but I do.” 
You pull her close, and that gets her flustered. 
Both of your hands are on her face, leaning on her, stopping right at the lips, watch her eyelids flutter in anticipation. The thrumming of your heartbeat pounds between your eardrums, until she looks at you dead in the eyes, sliding her hand lower and lower, quirks her eyebrows once her fingers lay land over your pants. 
Your throat bobs, swallowing on nothing. The lightbulb sets off in her head. 
“Would you look at that? Oh my. Honey, you’re just like the rest of them. Try to deny it all you want, but you can’t get the thought of using my body to get yourself off. And guess what? I’d let you.” 
She’s got a key charm in being forward. And you find it to be so fucking sexy; saying things like that with no care for who hears, keeping it blunt and straight to the point; she could talk her way out of a speeding ticket and she really could. Karina was simply being herself, you could point the culprit in the alcohol or maybe her friends, but you’re still caught in her crosshairs and the window of escape is closing fast. 
You don’t do anything to resist the pair of hands at your neck and the seat of your pants - or the fact that she’s yanking your head back to meet hers and you hear all her friends squeal at the mere sight of Karina getting her chance. Everything about this is sensational, a new thing to adapt and learn by the minute. 
Here, when she lets you pull away: “You can do better than that, sweetie. Tell. Me.”
You’ll tell her everything that she wants to hear: how you’ve had a crush on her since high school, how you’ve managed to stay by her side after all these years, the fact that you couldn’t jeopardize what you already had. Besides, the risk of losing her as a lover and a friend was too much to bear, that she isn’t the kind of girl to have sex with because you love her and that will be the end of it all. 
Sooner than later, you’ll tell her that. So to suffice, you say: “I could’ve, believe me. We just never did.” 
From that alone, Karina shakes her head, neither rejecting nor accepting. Her wrists slack behind your neck, bring her waist closer until you’re able to lace your fingers around your arm. You’re nervous at what might be going through her head right now, gnawing your inner lip to keep your mind occupied. 
She looks you dead in the eyes, a twinkle behind them: full of inspiration, desire, hunger, want. 
You kiss her again, because you believe that’s the only thing right to do. “How bout this,” she says, giddy and sultry, “Why don’t we find this out for ourselves?” 
This wasn’t the first time you’ve been in this position. 
And certainly, it won’t be the last, either. 
You’ve put up with Karina’s bullshit for as long as you could remember: from carrying her on your back after a long night out to those times of sleeping on the couch since she complained her bed was too stiff and decided to use yours. You can think of one instance of every emotion she has, nothing but fun memories in those moments. 
However, you’ve never been like this with her. 
Until tonight. 
You catch yourself failing miserably in keeping your guard up with Karina. Not when she’s taking every red light as her chance to kiss you in the car, her hand sliding under your shirt and grazing your pants shamelessly. Not when you’ve pressed her tits up against the elevator door and flipped her around kissing you once more so that the camera guy can see, hear her giggle and hum at this new and improved version of you that she’s created. 
It’s all a rush for her, the way you can’t let go of her past the door, pin her hips against the kitchen counter, peel off the layers of clothes starting with her jacket, grasp her breast held captive by the tight holds of her tank top. You raise her on the marble so that she can match your height - make her feel taller, build that ego up, give her the false impression that she’s the one having fun.
Most definitely on the fact that you’ve got her tank top off in record time, gawking at the immeasurable amount of skin along those luscious valleys you’ve classified as her breasts. 
Karina’s head goes sideways, inquisitive. She sees you have your sights set on the prize, all within arms reach. “That’s cute, you’ve been eyeing these babies ever since I moved in, god you’re not that hard to whirl around.” You have your fun at her neck while her fingers are working fast at your pants, sliding her hand underneath the elastic of your boxers- 
“Jesus baby,” she husks, appalled with the curl of your fingers along the length. She thought the bulge earlier was already apparent enough - oh how wrong she was, looking down at the newly claimed prize. “Since when the fuck were you hiding this from me? This is not the same cock I hear you jerk yourself off with now and then-” 
“Just one of my few surprises,” you cut her off, jolting your hips forward when the grip around your girth gets a tad bit tighter. “Believe me when I say this, you ain’t seen nothing yet.” 
Karina wets her lip, biting. 
She’s getting used to the new feeling of this. Of you. Her small hand holds you in place, trying to find the right words to describe or end with. You’re trying to see how far she would go - how much could she take; then, she drives another nail into the coffin: “Fuck. You’re like- really big.” 
You grin, since that’s got enough weight in the words to inflate your confidence through the roof. She twists her hand around while you’re peppering her face with your lips, over and over and over, until she’s completely broken you down and all signs seem to be pointing in that direction. 
You hear her hum in approval, sighing in relief, whisper these praises laced with your name. And when she says your name, genuinely, it comes off in a moment of seriousness - hallowed even. 
She’ll make you plummet into the depths of hell, or raise you to the golden pearly gates above; no matter the difference, you’re falling for one of two ways with her. 
It’s also putting you in a bad position because you know her experiences, what she wants, the mere basics of it. You pull her hips as she twists her hand by reflex, like it has a mind of its own, pumping your length. 
You hate how good she is at working you up. The wonders in sleight of hand: where to curl her fingers, how fast she should handle the strokes, the press of her thumb down on your tip, studying it while trying to figure out where to even start. 
“It’s not even fair at this point,” she tells you, sly smirking while you see her eyes fall halfway, softly laughing as she sees your knees buckle and hit the cabinet beneath her because you can’t respond properly. “You’re gonna take care of me so well. Using this to fuck my brains out.” 
Her smile goes even wider when your head falls back involuntarily, giving Karina the window to leave some marks of her own across your chest. 
Her ankles rest at the back of your thighs, leaning forward to get her other hand on your throbbing shaft, paying attention to your balls, weaving them between her fingers, dividing and conquering to no avail, to turn your mind into a puddle. 
“It’s gonna look so pretty in my ass,” Karina whispers into your ear, leaving more kisses behind, making you feel like you’re on cloud nine. “I bet I could make you cum with just my mouth, my hands. Maybe I’ll give you a tease, spread my legs and let you slip inside right here, since you’re so fucking hard that you could knock me out with this cock, hm?” 
Oh, what in the actual fuck- 
Right out of the gates, this girl is forcing you to be head over heels - to submit and bend to her will; she knows what to preach, her words alone fulfilling every single fantasy you have in the book, to take what’s hers and feed you that overpowering urge above all: to simply ruin her.
Unpredictability is something that Karina takes pride in: going slow at one point, then faster the next, dragging and shortening your breath in every stroke until the pressure becomes too much. 
She nods at her handiwork, sliding off the counter and pulling you by the dick across the apartment. That alone makes you snap and pin her - grab her by the arm and spin her around - press and bend her body over on the couch for a quick second. 
You pull her by the hair and shift her head; forcing her to lean up for a kiss. Flush your hips with hers where the weight of you might make her crumble right away. 
You almost feel bad about it, but that thought gets quickly diminished, because Karina knows how much she can handle. She wants to be taken rough, split apart, worship her body like it's some new testament you’ll reflect on in adoration, have her cunt fucked so thoroughly by you that she’ll come crawling back craving for more. 
“How long have you been waiting for this?” Karina grins into your cheek, running her hand up over yours greedily grasping at her tit. “All those slutty things I kept telling you, seems like you wanted some of the fun as well, huh?” 
Okay, she’s not wrong at all. You’ll bank that on the fact that she has most definitely heard you jerk yourself off at night, or the fact you’ve seen her walk out the shower naked but pretend to look the other way. With all those stories of her escapades, part of you wanted to join along now and then. 
So you give her mercy and lift yourself off from her, watch her glance over her shoulder when you’re following her to your room, fingers to the latch of her bra, the garment slipping off and falling to the floor. Her back is hypnotic to look at, and you find yourself chasing after her for another go. 
“This is gonna be bad for you,” she giggles, holding her by the door frame while your hands have a mind of their own, freely roaming across the canvas of her perfect body, sliding up and down and feeling the untouched territory yet to be claimed. “Can’t even stay away from me even for two seconds.” 
She sticks her ass out, dips her head down when you get a hold of her mound, the flesh alone having its little weight to it, graze your thumb over her nipples, pinch it, kiss the back of her neck, and leave another mark. You are going to take your sweet time with her; use your teeth, your mouth, your cock. Anything and everything in your arsenal to make Karina yours. 
It starts with the letdown. Now, we’re at a shuffle - a waltz, a sloppy waltz - until Karina spins herself around while you settle at the edge of your bed, hike up to your hips, rest them there, forearms on shoulders, kissing you once more. 
A gentle moan slips out of her mouth when you finally start indulging yourself in her fabulous tits. Seeing out the amount of fun you are going to have: licking, kissing, biting along the perfect skin. Your mind can’t seem to register the fact that your hands were made for holding them; the fit alone, it feels so nice. 
Fuck, it’s even better once you realize she’s so responsive to the touch. That alone prompts you to add oil to the fire and drop the intimate act for something more primal, hungrier. She does this little shimmy with her upper body, moving her breasts around for your mouth to be caught in between them like two mushy pillows molding around your face. 
Her hand slips under and grips around you again, the friction causing you to bite down on her skin. A fair trade at least - a two-way system - you touch her, she touches you. 
“God, I think I know why you held yourself back with me for this long,” her words heavy and just coherent enough to understand, “maybe I convinced myself that I couldn’t handle you.” 
You laugh into her breasts, her hand on the back of your head, tugging while she hears the hums. 
She sighs, relieved. Like there’s a weight finally off her shoulders. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?” One second later, she pushes your head away, jaw slack, eyes clouded with lust, drunk on the taste of her skin, your hand sliding lower and lower from her waist, the warm surface getting even hotter when you reach her panties, grazing the lace. 
“It’s unreal, I don’t even have to tell you to say anything-” she sucks in a breath at the feeling of your fingers soaking up her slick, swipe your thumb upwards across her clit. “You win baby. I’ll let you have your way. I promise.” She tilts your head up for a kiss, grining her hips down, forcing the groan from you down her throat. “I can give you everything you ever dreamed of having.” 
You don’t even know where to fucking start. 
“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you say, hitting the tip of your nose against hers; get a light-hearted laugh out. “I’ll make you regret them.” 
“Oh yeah? Why don’t you tell me what’s going through your head right now? With me on top? I’m all ears.” 
It’s even worse when you see her hand slithering down from her tits. Lower. Lower. The influence already affects you when she brings your hand around your cock, slowly tugging along as she treats herself to such a sight. 
That said sight of Karina playing with herself; sighing, murmuring, tilting her head slightly as her breath shudders at the sound of you groaning whilst doing the same thing with yourself. You see the damage, the marks, the places where you’ll leave more bruises than before. 
You just have to- fucking- look. You have her in such a state that you have never imagined yourself being in, and now that’s realized right in front of your eyes. 
So you tell her exactly how you’ll fuck her. What position she likes the most, where does she want you to take her, how much you’ll twist her mind into becoming more desperate for you and your cock, when you’ll make her cum, rail that poor cunt of hers until she’s sobbing in the filthiest fucking mess possible. 
“I’d be sinning,” you tell her, admittedly. “If I didn’t say that you’ve never imagined me fucking your tits unlike now. Better yet-” 
“And let me guess, you were hoping to God that there was at least somebody out there who could fulfill that desire for you, right?” Karina interrupts, hand still in between her legs, watching you shamelessly jerk yourself off. She sighs, “So original. I think you deserve more than that.” 
Uhm- well- okay, yeah. 
“What, too weird?” You ask right after, breathless, your shaft throbbing around your fingers a tad early for your taste. “Ouch. I get it. It’s fine.” 
“No, no, no,” Karina sighs, licking her lips. Her eyes shine through yours, a supernova unraveling. “I think we can settle with this. You fix me, I fix you. Deal?” 
Who’s to say that there was a chance Karina had the same vision as you? 
It’s a freeze-frame moment when the realization hits you for the first time. 
You’re seeing, but still having a tough time believing:
The sight of your cock being swallowed up by her tits, tongue laving at the tip, her hands compressing her chest inwards so that she can hold you there - focus on her lips and listen to the soft moans all lovely and adoring. Your poor cock: leaking with precum mixed with spit and when it’s all slicked up, you’ll put her on her back and make her press her breasts together, slip right back inside the heat and press into the friction. A gift from the heavens, you think. God, you’ll praise and worship them for as long as you live. 
“Shit,” you barely manage, rasping, like it’s some epiphany, as if this was new for her. “Karina, that’s incredible.” 
Her eyes dart at you, lashes flickering. The subtlety alone is near cute, even when her fingers dig into the skin of her tits, pinching at the nipples, tongue hanging out as some of the spit starts to drip over into the cleavage. 
She lowers her mouth right above the tip, seals it around your thick cockhead lightly. “Really?” 
You clench your jaw a little tighter, “God,” you huff, tensing up your hips for the thrust, fucking into the pressure, stare as she moves her tits downward to meet in the middle. “Fuck, yes.” 
“Don’t you suppose that this is good for me as well?” She then asks, dazed. 
“Why- fuck. Why the fuck are you asking me?” You rasp, tone gentle the next second. “Judging how hard you’re pressing, I hope that you won’t let that go to your head.” Karina’s face lights up with excitement, tilts her head down into your hand, smirking as she hears the stable breathing. Her brown eyes - like her tits - are soft, easy; her plump bottom lip sweeps the head of your cock once again. 
She hums as she stares. Chuckles at the mere buck of your hips. Cute. 
“Hmmm, maybe I will,” she accepts. 
You scoff, mixed with relief and with disbelief because Karina’s tits are fucking unreal and to top it all off she’s sucking you off while your cock is held captive between them; though you’re stuck in a hypnosis and that’s the only sensible reaction of Karina that you could give her. “Karina,” you’re seething, “Jesus, Karina-” 
She moves her chest in this side-to-side motion, wiggling her tits like it’s some shameless dance move, proposing. “What’s the matter, baby? All that waiting and you can’t hold it together?” She asks, arms moving inward with her elbows at the bottom line - her drool dribbling down her tongue and into her cleavage in this messy waterfall. “You wanna cum in between my fucking tits, hm? Right in the middle? Paint them white over these red marks you kissed all over-” 
The sound ripping from your throat is an indication of the first layer of your inner wall being broken down. It’s just for show, but she’s taking it literally. She has a knack for talking filthy. Here you are losing it. Her hand holds you by the base and pumps you - rubs your balls for good measure, pushing, soothing, encouraging - and Karina’s eyes shimmer while her mouth shifts, something more shrewd, vicious. 
“You fit so well here,” she gasps, “God, I wonder how it’ll feel when you stuff up my tiny pussy-” 
Your head falls back and you’re swearing. Clenching your fists while your elbows start to slide back. 
“Karina,” you say again, because it’s easier to speak than think. “I’m- I’m,” 
Her lips pout, shaking her head, disappointed. “No. Don’t,” she sighs, “Don’t you dare,” she says next, “please, I want it inside, inside me - in my pretty little pussy, make me feel good, so full, want your - mmm,” you see her eyes close, biting her lip at the idea, whining, “you’ve dreamt of cumming inside me - breeding me, knocking me up for fun-” 
This girl is something else - good on you to match up to her craziness - and you’re biting your lip along with her as well, watching her hand slip under to her clit while she holds your dick between her tits, thighs shaking as she spreads - it’s ingrained into your head, the sight of it. She wants you to breed her, or whatever is remotely close to cumming on her - and Karina will keep on asking for your input of all these things she’s projecting, leave it up to interpretation before acting on it. You’ve never thought you’d see yourself be like this, let alone have Karina act this way all for you. You’ll keep pondering about it long after you’ve had your fill - or her having her fill - it could go both ways for all you know. 
Still. The girl keeps moving. 
“Oh my fuck,” you slip out, different sayings all preaching the same message, “that feels so fucking incredible,” which isn’t enough to describe the present state of things nor does it fulfill the bare minimum of everything either but for Karina’s ego and with her smirk - because that’s how it always was, just feels right. 
“You’ve never said anything about it, but you’re obsessed,” Karina taunts. “This mouth, these tits, they’re all for you - you could have me any way you want,” she keeps her hands moving while her head sways from one end to the other, sighing as her tongue stops at her teeth. “Look at you. I’ve never seen you so desperate to fuck a slut like me and claim her like she’s yours.” 
She presses inward with her tits. You feel your shaft swell even harder. A lift up, then a drop. Repeat. You’re tensing every muscle in your waist as hard as you can. 
“So?” You ask weakly, huffing. “So what, okay- shit. You-” 
Next thing you do is pick up right where you left off. Thrusting into her tits and feel your pace fluctuate to the point that it’s gotten so dirty as you’d imagine fucking her cunt could get, hips smacking skin on skin, into the softness of her breasts, wet sounds and gasps let out through every slap. 
“Right there, cum,” she mutters, irises foggy, straight out of your wet dreams, leaning her neck forward with her jaw hung open so that you can fuck yourself straight into her mouth, look down at your wobbling hips - throbbing and twitching as she drinks in the sight of you nearing that edge. “Fuck my tits like that, cum all over them, wanna feel, wanna hear how much you want me.” 
You say her name, or at least try to. The sound incoherent, broken, and apologetic; just downright humbling. The best thing you can do is make good on your part. Your cock is so deep in between her tits, the messy slick and warmth enveloping you wholly; fingers doing the little adjustments, a rough measure of how her pussy will wreck your dick later - dragging her breasts across the sensitive edges, the lightest touch of her fingers at the top, flicking the underside. It’s too much, too fast, too- 
“God, Karina-” 
“Oooh,” she beams, ecstatic. “Oh my god.” 
Soon you feel yourself spilling everything in the tightest spot of her breasts, mouth slacking as she watches in awe of your cock tensing and erupting your release all over the skin of her chest, her throat. Her chest heaves along with the pulsing, shaking her tits soon after, gently pumping out the remnants of white, squeezing. It’s unholy what she’s doing, eyes glassy and spit slathered across the space, face flushed and chin dripping with your cum; and she lowers herself to where your shaft is in line with her face, pursing her lips - like some money shot - full and getting an appetizer of what’s to come. You ghost your hand to the back of her head, cautiously - the hand between her legs treats to her clit, the other wrapped around your shaft and smacking your dick on her cheek, so it’s a definite premonition come to life: her on her knees and dreamily staring at your dick while she’s soaking up your white hot mess. 
“Aww, well that’s too bad. Couldn’t hold it at the first go. Shame on you,” mutters Karina, grinning and letting out a soft pitiful laugh. 
“You’re fucking insane.” 
“And what are you gonna do about it?” she asks, patting your ass in comfort. She massages her tits right in front of you, the webbing of cum spread across the inner parts of her mounds, in the gap of the heavy curves. “I can’t believe you- God, you came so fucking much.” 
You keep on staring while you’re fighting for the last bits of consciousness left - like if you hit the canvas in a boxing match, and your coach helped you up with counting: one, two, three, four, up, up, up, up; you’ll try to focus on the breathing, take your time, continue to blink while the rest of the world fades out from your vision and all that’s there in the middle is Karina’s sluttiest form fully culminated. That’s all you see: the right angles and curves of her breasts, well sculpted and detailed that you’ll keep observing in reverence. It’s so much to process, the first glance at the scene of the crime, all over Karina, unreal and cute and just- perfect. You’re not dreaming, the nerves in your body overloaded with stimulation to properly conclude that Karina was purely made as a vessel to take limitless loads of cum in and all over her outright beautiful body. 
“Well-” You sigh heavily, a weight lifted off your shoulders. “I’m kinda- ugh. Yeah.” 
But Karina still has you on the palms of her hands, deciding what’s enough on her terms. 
Because one second later, she spreads your legs more and slides her tongue up from your balls and upwards against the underside, then to the tip. She giggles at the feeling of you snapping to attention from the contact, and you sharply inhale at the sensation, ready for more. 
“You should know that you have to deal with me the right way,” adds Karina. “This was just the start.” She then glances down to her fingertips, picking up the cum smeared all over her chest and licks it up, eyes fixated on you with interest while alternating the treatment of her lips to her fingers, to your cock. “Still speechless about my performance?” 
You roll your eyes, flaring your nostrils. “Do you do this with every guy you get in bed with?” 
Karina laughs at that, batting her lashes. “Not really. But if you’re gonna shut me up, make sure it’s with your cock.” 
Her brows light up in excitement when rake your fingers into her hair, pull her back, at the point where she surprisingly gasps. You flick her hand away from your cock, notice her mouth drop lower, expecting you to do as she says: plug one hole up for the time being. 
You don’t do that, though. Your mouth finds hers and it fills the space for the moment. 
A moment where the intimacy reaches the sweetest. In all the right ways, you’re defying her wishes through actions rather than words. Karina forces a high-pitched hum down your throat, clashing her teeth into your face, catching your lip in the midst, pulling. You’re sure she wants to see you hurt - she’s already done that - two can play at that game. 
Your hands slot themselves at the slides of her face, gripping, eager mouth keeping you focused on the task at hand, and it’s second nature when her arms wrap around your neck, lifting her up from the floor. She won’t stop giggling, laughing; the noises a spell of their own, cursing you - an unsaid promise that you’ll give to her even when you’re flipping her around back on the mattress. 
The weight of you two creaks the springs when Karina rolls herself over and finds herself on top of you. You feel her slick folds glide up your leg, the stickiness mixing in with your skin and tainting. Her conquest doesn’t stop there, until she settles the heat over your cock, grinding, the ache alone enough to make you writhe in wanting. 
She flips her head over to one side, breaking the kiss, falling back down for more. Her eyes and yours are both out of focus, panting heavily. She’s fucking unbelievable, a red herring that you had all the wrong ideas for, finally seeing the truest form of her nature being awakened. 
You say something remotely close to your thoughts. 
She looks at you, astounded. 
Sighs. 
You feel her hand cradle your head tenderly. 
Meets your forehead with hers and smiles. 
Tracing a finger to your jaw, pinching the skin soothingly. 
“You’re going to ruin me,” Karina whispers, kissing your cheek. “I hoped it was you to be the last one I try my luck with.” 
You close your eyes because it’s the truth.
Your hand shoots up for the headboard behind you, gripping. She helps grab the other arm and pins them together, captures your lips once more and it’s too intoxicating to fight against. She continues to grind her hips against yours, feel the heat of her cunt and her folds glide above you.
The teasing is insufferable, feeling her warmth wash you over. 
“I’ve waited long enough.” 
The words are at the tip of your tongue, but they won’t come out. 
“I’ve always wanted it to be you,” she carries on, softly laughing as you’re crumbling underneath her weight. “And now, you- and this cock, is mine. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.” 
She dips your cock in, sinking, slowly, the inches getting swallowed up in increments. You moan in response, kissing her collarbone. You’ve imagined what it would be like, prayed that one day you’d get the glorious chance to be inside this wonderful heat. It’s something else, like a long reward that you’ve sought out for but it's the fact that Karina’s tight cunt is practically making you choke where you could die and be happy with it. 
“Jesus fuck,” you groan, the fibers in your body tensing. She just sighs, hoists her hips up, and sinks back down again. 
She does it again - and again, and again. The movement alone; painstakingly slow and increasing with every passing second. Her hips seizing yours in place and fucking you like that’s all she’s meant for; like this opportunity was a once-in-a-lifetime moment and she’s going to take every advantage of it. As if she feared you telling her to forget everything about tonight and move on like it’s normal. 
“It’s not even fair, the way you make me feel,” sighs Karina, yielding to the pleasure, head dipping down. “I should’ve known - fuck, I really should’ve known. Why didn’t we do this sooner?” 
Your hips match hers in a dance, unable to answer. Unwilling to, actually. 
Because you’d rather save the words for later and live in the present, her body consuming you at a rate that shouldn’t be humanly possible. The way she rides on top of you, head and shoulders and arms invading every corner of your being, reigning fire. It’s so fucking good - her cunt, the warmth, the feeling, it’s impossible to think straight and there’s a part of you in the corner of your mind that’s jumping for joy. Walls tearing down from within, freeing you. 
If you’re not careful, it’ll be even worse when you’re guzzling your cum into her tight pussy before she even has had the chance to fuck your cock properly. She’s holding you hostage, bounding your hands with hers - a beautiful punishment to undertake. The moans and sighs alternate, complimenting one another as she continues to jut her hips forward and back - back and forward. “I hate you,” she’s saying, “I hate how you had the fucking guts to not let me try.” 
God, it really is pathetic for you. Karina figuratively digging her fingers into every nook and cranny of your brain, making you want - want to lose it, to be desperate, to be the version of you that’s capable enough to go beat-for-beat with her. The groove of your index and thumb settle at her waist, picking up the pace, use the drag of her cunt across your cock, but Karina grasps your jaw, mouthing an ‘ah, ah, ah’ as a consequence for your eagerness. 
Slamming her ass back down, she chokes an utterance out of you, “Fucking- Karina-” 
And Karina hums, letting her lower half do the work. “What’s wrong?” she asks, all innocent and sweet that doesn’t cover her sinful act. Perfectly calculated in her head of how she’s working you up. “What are you gonna do? Fuck me?” 
She took the words right out of your mouth. 
She finally managed to break you. 
You’re not nice about it, either: breaking the little restraint from her hands, hooking your arms underneath her shoulders, turn her over and yank her hips back to yours. 
The gasps. You want more. 
Karina tests the waters again when she breaks free from your grasp, forcing you to push her down on the mattress by the head, claw your fingers into her scalp, raise her up to flush her waist and hold her mouth open, taking account of the newly formed arch in her back - the perfect fucking bell curve. 
She sighs again. Not in shock, no. In relief. Satisfied, ecstatic, excited, as if she’s finally getting what she wants - for you to have enough and put her in her place. “God, yes. Fuck yes. Fucking do it. Do it! C’mon-” 
You slip yourself inside and shut her up for a second, feel her walls clamp around your throbbing member. “Like this?” You ask, snarling into her ear cuff, pulling her by the hair where she won’t even complain about the pain. “Want me to be like this with you from now on?” 
“You have no idea,” Karina says, nodding frantically, the arch of her hips moving backward against you. “How much I needed this from you.” 
Pushing your buttons and limits is what she does best. 
So you grab her by the throat, give a sloppy placement of your mouth at the corner of her lips, forcing her to look up and back. The angle where your cock is embedded rips her apart at the first slam. You’re going to fuck her. You’re going to fuck her ruthlessly. Fuck her cunt so bad like you’ve always wanted to the day she accidentally flashed herself at you and the image of her figure burned into your memory. 
She keens when you bottom out completely, filling her up to the brim with your cock. Stokes coming along easier and easier as the claps of skin start to reverberate around the walls of your bedroom -  thrusting up into her cunt and not giving a fuck about the rest. 
Karina tugs at your hair, finding a place to hold herself together, hips stilling and moving and eventually freezing. You’re up to the plate now, dishing out the real work far better than her. 
You are going to break her. Pound her ass. Bounce her cunt all over your dick, listen to how her breaths shudder and choke in the stale air with every upstroke. Your mind is working double time - trying to figure out how much she can take, where are her sensitive spots and capitalize on the weak points. 
The hints are in her body, you take that into account. She takes in every inch with her cunt, eyes fluttering shut, sighing in complete adoration. Willing to let you pour every ounce of your being onto her; these feelings, these frustrations. A place where you can let your imaginations run wild, her body a sacred temple built to ruin, in all of the harmonious sounds that come out of her mouth, occasional screams to let you know what you’re doing is right. 
When she cradles the side of your head again, staring forward at the mirror placed behind your bed along the wall, she grins, watching you place a kiss along her throat, leaning her head back to deepen the angle, runs a hand over yours, treating itself to one of her tits. “Baby, you can never have enough of me.” 
That earns her a firm grasp of your arms, pulling her closer. She shouldn’t even be able to speak, let alone have this much fun. You push her down back on the bed, hands sliding down her waist, stopping at the indent of her hips, dragging your cock out and yanking her ass back in. “Do you ever fuck your girls like this?” 
“Are you always this talkative during sex?” 
“Not exactly,” her breath hitches when you bend over the swell of her ass, swipe your finger above her clit to tease. “I’m eager- ah, eager to see,” she bites down her moan when you spread her sopping pussy lips apart, feel her leak even more on your cock, “how far you’d go-” 
You’re getting there, that’s for sure. 
Now you’re wondering what else you can do with her hips up and knees spread wide. 
“Stay right there,” you say, pressing a hand down her spine to deepen the arch, her ass getting bigger at your waist, palm full of fine skin, “and let’s see.” 
Her fast shriek registers a second after you smack the surface, the sound mimicking the crack of lightning. 
You slap her ass, impale yourself back in, watch as your cock disappears from your view. 
Karina’s face dives into the sheets, muffling her scream. 
“Big mistake,” you growl, seeking your fingers into the roots of her hair, snatching. You spank her again. 
And again. 
And again. 
The punishment and reward: you smack her ass, fuck into her, feel her body blossom with heat and flushed with crimson; handfuls of sheets or pillows or anything that’s within reach. Her cunt gushes even more, the throaty moans hiccuping as her body convulses more because of the blowback, and she’s still smiling.
“God- oh my God,” Karina pants, fingers back between her legs as she throws her ass back now, completing the motion. “So forceful.” 
You cup the sides of her waist, press your fingers over the blotches of red, skin rippling each passing second your hips flush with hers. The sounds of the smacks and the gentle creaks of the bed are already erotic enough that the spanking in between is just the cherry on top. 
All that Karina has to do in this situation is to simply ride out the wave of pleasure, body slightly jaded through every firm impact of your cock weaving itself inside her cunt, the vice closing in every millisecond. 
“-so good. You’re so good,” spits Karina, eyes cinched shut; a sharp inhale when you reach that spot, body seizing. “K-keep using my cunt, just like that- wanna feel your dick ruck up inside-” 
You’re grasping at her neck, deepening the angle. You want to melt into her, to feel everything. To fill her mind up with nothing but just you. 
“You did this to me,” you grit, pulling her back on your cock; listen to her stutters for an answer. “This is all on you.” 
But she giggles, head swiveling forward and face first into the pillows, but her wailing still breaks through. She comes back up for air soon after. Whatever she can get, “The plan, baby,” she’s telling you, “It was all part of the plan. Always.” 
That twists your mind in more ways than one. Her mouth, her hands, her body, all within arm's reach. You grasp at her tit again, drive your cock back into her cunt, her moans inching up an octave, and the shimmer coming out of the corner of Karina’s eye gives you all the more reason to keep going. 
“I’ll break you until you’ve had enough,” she breathes out, and her face contorts to something remotely pained, “please, for the love of fuck- don’t stop bouncing my pussy on your- fuck!” 
It hits you when you’ve finally worked Karina to stop talking. Breathless. Heaving. You sigh out of rapture, the feeling washing over you like you got dunked in water. A new enlightenment fully realized - the full manifestation of her creation, and now she’s on the receiving end of it.  
You give her two more firm strokes inside her; drag yourself out and rub your tip over her folds. She wiggles her ass in response, tempting you. Having another fill as her cunt clenches your cock once more, slick soaking up your skin until the friction is almost seamless, siphoning every part of your being just for her. 
This angle is dangerous: the way her stomach is nearly flat, you find your bearings above her, pushing in, too deep, holding her by the hips, anchoring, knees apart and at an angle where they would be if she was kneeling on a pew. Instead, you grab one leg, then the other - get your palms full of her waist in supplication as the undersides of the peak of her thighs meet yours, curves rippling on impact, thrust your cock into her open cunt where you’re rubbing all of the spots at once, gliding in so easily where the pace alone really sets itself into place. Her hand tends to one of her tits, hopelessly keeping it in place while you’re hooking her back for that arch and cementing the motion as your own. The time of teasing and playfulness is over, as you’re chasing to make the aches in her body a problem and sever all the nerves in her system until you can visibly see her limbs shudder - fuck out a complaint from her lips to make you stop and not act so greedy about it; but then your mouth is back on her again, hoping to sedate her thoughts as you let your lower half keep up the work. 
Then you sigh something between the space of the lips, an undertone: “You like this, love?” 
A nod is the only response she can give you, mouth parted and unable to coherently say anything in particular, so grab her chin. 
She’s getting there. You know. You can tell. 
“This pretty little cunt, all for me, no?” 
Karina mouths a ‘fuck’, biting her lip immediately after. 
“I’ll use you in whatever way I want.” 
Her hand swoops over and presses your forehead against hers, whining in pure euphoria.
“Let me hear you,” you urge, hand moving up so you can close her mouth, lighten up on the pressure so that she speaks a bit more freely. “I want you to say it.” 
Karina locks onto your eyes, searching for the right words in your head, and you know she will- 
Because Karina knows that she’ll be good for you. Your perfect little fucktoy. A personal slut who’ll always let you have and you know this well enough since it’s taken you this long to finally see it. “Oh baby it’s all yours, it’s all yours, it’s all yours. I promise- I promise that it’s all yours and it’s no one else’s- I promise it’s only yours just keep fucking-” 
To say that your ego was inflated would be an understatement. But man, words can not describe how much you wanted her to scream it out at the top of her lungs. 
Your groaning matches hers in volume, the bedframe not too far off to scrape across the hardwood. You’re pretty sure that the springs will bounce along with your bodies as well. 
“So pretty,” you praise, kissing her. “I’m gonna have this cunt all to myself. Whenever. Wherever-” 
Karina’s head lolls back and up, clutching onto your neck for added support. Heaving as you’re fucking the air out of her and makes her voice have this raspy tone attached to it: “That’s cute. You won’t have to look very far now that there’ll be one room for us to share.” 
You pause, blinking. Your finger moves a wisp of her hair away from her face, her eyes widening and fulll with sparkles. Never in a million years, you’d find yourself to be in this position - inside of Karina - but here we are. No need to move fast when you’ve done the hard stuff already. 
“So what,” you say, picking up a stable pace in her cunt, saving the dissipating control where you can. What’s there to be left said when it’s already shown? “It’s bad news for you because I’m gonna have you every chance I can get.” 
“You wanna let the whole world know how rough you’re fucking me? Be my guest,” she tells you, palm braced to your waist and moving her hips in this body-roll motion, biting her lip as the entity of sin returns in her mind, taking over. 
“I’m too good for you,” continues Karina, light-hearted and giddy, as if she’s not trying to milk every bit of you into her fucking pussy. “And here I thought I knew everything about you.” 
She’s right about that. Fortunately, this is more than just a dream. This is reality. You have endless memories with her as it is, and you’re positive that you’re excited to create more of them with her. 
“I guess you could say this is one more secret kept away.” 
A hand to your face, gentle. Loving. “My handsome boy.” 
“Fuck you.” 
“You are.” Karina breathes with an airy laugh, voice getting hazier. Cock drunk and fucked out of her mind. It’s working. “So hot.” 
“Gonna talk?” 
“Fuck-” she then sighs, hissing, and the smirk fades from her face, something more warm, languid, laid back. Her mind is gone. “Fuck.” 
You nod and give her a smirk of approval. Proud of your latest curation. The girl that everyone wants, only wants you. The beauty in that exclusivity lifts a weight off your head, and you’re far inclined to accept it head-on. 
“How bad do you want me?” You ask, biting down a kiss to push some life into her. Tears welled up at the corners, letting her feel every inch where you could take it. 
“I should be asking you, how far are you gonna hold out for me?” Karina purrs. “I’ll give you what you want if you let go first.” She tells you, pulling her body upwards and shifting the limbs around before you find yourself sliding back into her where the angle is at her cunt’s hottest point. A spot where you’d never turn back on. 
The pressing of the crease at her knees, legs pushed up high. Your cock is so embedded and consumed by her pussy that you’re having trouble staying upright. 
She then says this mantra - a phrase said differently but its message is very clear: “I’m all yours,” she wails, “I’ll always be yours if you let me- fuck! Only let me have this cock all to myself.” 
It’s happened multiple times before in your life: being wrapped around her finger. But this- this takes the meaning to a whole new level. Her body claims you as its own and you’ll surrender to that discovery for as long as you walk on this earth. 
The strokes keep going, the mindnumbing sensation coming to its fated end - that blissful release and last bits of pent-up feelings of Karina; her cunt a glove, sheathing your cock perfectly with every thrust, clenching around your girth to pump you out. 
You’ve already laid the cards on the table a long time ago or- even now, when she’s seen you in the most vulnerable state, fucking into the mattress so deeply and loudly that you’re not even worried about the potential noise complaint coming from the neighbors. 
She’s calling out your name. Just your name. Nobody else’s. Telling you how to keep fucking her. Hard. Fuck her poor little cunt until you’ve dumped every last bit of your load in her and fill her until she’s leaking out white between her legs. 
“Baby, I can feel you throbbing. Are you gonna cum? Gonna cum so fucking much- Please, I want it. I need it. Just- fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-” 
She loses first. 
And my lord, she’s fucking wrecked. 
You bottom her out and hold her hips in place, cunt quivering and her toes curl and feet in the air, moving with what little mobility they have left because you’re pressing down the underside of her thighs, yelping and wailing and screaming to the point she might break the fucking glass on mirror and windows. 
“Baby. Baby, I can’t fucking move- you son of a bi-” 
Karina’s pussy squelches around your cock, a new layer of slick added to the mix of spit and precum. You pull out halfway and rub her clit at an inhuman rate, feel her liquid sputter out, hit some parts of your body, squirting. 
She’s squirting even more when you’re slapping the head of your cock across her pussy lips, watch her body spazz out and tense up almost like she’s having a seizure or going into shock, blabbering complete nonsense and you’re kissing her harshly on the fine column of her throat. 
You could care less, because all you just want to do is fuck Karina, feel the glide of her cunt become even smoother than before. Read into how her body responds to yours and the mess just gets even more filthier. The sounds- God, the fucking sounds. It’s a perfect harmony. 
The pace steadies with the beat of your heart, thrusting your cock into her cunt and keep her figure moving until she’s able to gather her thoughts, finding the right words along the teeth to where she says: “cum in me, fuck your cum into me,” and the sobs compliments her heaving. “Please, I want it. Give it to me. I wanna be full-” 
It lights a fire under your ass, every ounce of your being finally collapsing. 
You’re managing where you can; burying yourself in the deepest depth of Karina’s pussy, cumming in the hottest point - and the senses and nerves in your body are contracting and expanding in all the right places- 
Your body and Karina’s: finally becoming one. 
Your cock and lips are the sole sources of connection to her as she coos at the multitudes of cum filling her pussy up. 
The embodiment of perfection. The tightness. So snug. You can feel it. Every fiber of your being let out through your release and her small little hole - holding your cock through the pulsing, legs frozen as your arms slither to Karina’s back, exhaling so hard that you’re certain one of your lungs might break. 
“That’s fucking amazing, baby. Oh, baby, keep giving me your cum - I need- I need it, ah. God-” 
You could feel your vision start to blur in and out of blackness, her whimpers and soft moans a gentle sonata, soothing through your high as her fingers grazing across your skin is enough contact to course electricity through you. And you rest your head against hers, taking asylum in the space above her shoulder, hips slowing and breath racked with exhaustion. Her hand rubs against your lower back, massaging the last bits of cum deep while the rest of her body goes limp, sweat glistening all over her skin as if she got baptized, finally blessed with the afterglow. 
“So much cum,” she’s saying, over and over, a prayer in itself, “There’s so much cum in me.” 
You release the restraints of your hands from her body, pulling on her side until her legs start to tangle with yours, cock still wrapped around her pussy, unable to leave or pull out. Her thumb swipes across your eyebrow, tapping the temple. Internalizing the events that occurred just now, reeling away from the pure emotions and the mere point of it all. 
At last, you and her are both drained. Like you’ve gone twelve rounds with her. You’re willing to go one more, because she’ll want that too. 
You’re then combing Karina’s hair down, patting the back of her head while she leans into your chest cavity and showers your collarbones with kisses. She nestles her face deeper when you bring her closer, swooping the sheets from beneath until it covers both of you. 
It’s comforting. This new home. 
It’s everything. 
“Don’t sleep yet,” you whisper to her, kissing her forehead while her eyelids flutter lazily. 
Her head tilts. There’s a slight shake on the ends of her fingertips; she brings them close to her face. You gaze down to see her mouth try to form a few letters - a word - only say nothing at the end of it. 
“It was always you,” she breathes, the projection alone a new belief to instill. Your face shifts to something confused, thrown off. But you’ve repeated and reciprocated the same thing even though most of it was unrequited. “Part of me was worried for like- the longest time, and now-” 
You hush her, her body sinking more into your touch, the warmth encapsulating her like a cocoon. The aches soon settle in and you let the pillowed conversations flow to a more interesting topic. 
When the next morning comes around, your mind is doing its best job to make you succumb to the inner machinations of your visions. The effects of the alcohol still present - which explains the partial dizziness, though your memory is kept intact. Most of it feels a bit smudged, like the faint image of a mirage of some haven out in the blistering heat of the desert. Soon your eyes are filled with the endless plane of the ceiling above, and you feel a whole lot lighter- 
The weight pressing down on your arm was no more. 
You arch your back, feel the limited mobility in your lower half, and inhale deeply. 
A prop of your elbow betters your view; realizing the sheets were off your body, your legs slightly spread apart, feel the shocking tingle of nails scratch along your skin, crotch surprisingly warm - not to mention wet. 
Karina looks up with a neat pop off the head of your cock, an airy laugh passing through her lips, slides her tongue up the length before she carries on with bobbing her head between your legs, cock hardening in the heat of her mouth. 
“Jesus fuck-” 
You feel her hand wrap around you, grinning, biting down a patch of skin near the base. She pumps you once, maybe twice, and tilts her face sideways when she sees your jaw slack and lips salivating. 
Well. It's one hell of a way to say good morning. 
“Aw, did I scare you? Well, you better enjoy this because I won’t be waking you up like this unless I feel like it.” 
That’s how all things go, unfortunately. The ways Karina wants you to do these favors of hers.
Except now-
You can bet your ass that you’ll love every fucking second of it. 
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lenoraslament · 8 months ago
Text
Slytherin Boys React: Free Use
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If I disappear I come back nastier 🤷🏻‍♀️
You and your boyfriend have a free use agreement.
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, free use, CNC, degradation, oral (both), piv, fingering, breastplay, smut with no plot
Mattheo Riddle
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Everyone knows Mattheo has an oral fixation. But not everyone knows that watching you put anything in your mouth drives him absolutely crazy. From biting your nails, to chewing on your pen, or sucking on a piece of candy. It drives the man feral. Feral.
After hours you two snuck into the girls bathroom so you could get ready for bed before staying the night in his dorm. You face the mirror brushing your teeth, you don’t notice the way he’s watching you. Gagging on your toothbrush lightly, a small white stream of toothpaste dripping down your lips. The way your pouty lips part as you bend over the sink to check your molars thoroughly.
Suddenly poking under your nightgown, he brushes his cock between your thighs. The smallest warning before he makes quick work of your panties and slides into your warm unsuspecting pussy. A muffled moan escapes your lip as he raises his brows in the mirror, shocked at how good it feels.
“Don’t stop baby” he whispers and you struggle to keep brushing as he thrusts lazily into you. Eyes staring only at your mouth even when you feel yourself clench around him. His focus is on thin line of toothpaste dripping out of your lips as he fucks you stupid.
Theodore Nott
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“Mine”. That’s what Theo said as soon as you got to his room. Well he didn’t as much say it to you as he did to your breasts. He sat on his bed, his eyes immediately drawn to your chest highlighted by the little tank top you wore.
He reached his arms out for you and when you stood in front of him to give him a hug he immediately buried his face in your breasts.
“Mine…so beautiful” he muttered.
“Well hello to you too,” you begin to say laughing but he doesn’t respond. He is a man starved. His hands trail quickly from your back to the neckline of your top yanking it down. Yes our bra also becomes a casualty, they bunch at your waist biting into your skin. Immediately he licks a nipple. Swirling his tongue. Taking a little bite. Then the other. His hands squeeze softly, then possessively. Making you hiss at the pressure and moan when he sucks harder.
You feel the heat between your thighs building and your hips begin to keen forward as you moan.
“Mmm, Theo please,” you whine begging for more your pussy dripping needing to be touched. But he doesn’t hear you, he doesn’t care to hear you. He releases one of your nipples with a loud pop and looks up at you with swollen lips and eyes full of possession. It told you he was going to have you however he wanted.
“Mine.”
Enzo Berkshire
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Your boyfriend had a way with words. He had a cute mouth, a charming mouth and every now and then a smart mouth. You had spent the better part of an hour listening to him chat and flirt with people at a party. Your friends, his friends, all genders. He couldn’t help it. He was just really that charming. It had managed to tick you off and arouse you all at the same time.
The party had left your mind feeling light and hazy but his behavior left a hot sting in your stomach. When you both stumbled into his dorm, his back hit he bed and he laid yawning.
“Must be exhausted after flirting all night,” you snapped not hiding aggravation in your tone.
Enzo only grinned like the charismatic little bastard he is, “really darling, don’t tell me you’re jealous” he practically purred knowing full and well you were. You made quick work of your panties sliding them down as she stood on the side of his bed.
“Not jealous just curious,” you teased as you began to climb in bed. He raised his eyebrow at you as your straddled his face.
“I’m curious if your mouth can do something that doesn’t piss me off,” your voice a mixture of frustration and lust. His hands found purchase on your hips as he pulls you onto his tongue. Eagerly he slides his tongue against you,his jaw moving aggressively. You feel him lightly suck on your clit as he rocks your hips against his face and your brain shortwires.
Draco Malfoy
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You hadn’t even had time to fully form a thought about your transfiguration homework before Draco stuffed his cock in your mouth. You knew when his eyes looked like they did, cold and far away that it wasn’t time to give him any lip about it.
His quidditch loss had left him angsty. The veins on his hands protruding as threw his dirty uniform into the hamper. He only had a towel slung across his hips as he walked into his dorm. You sat at your desk about to open your textbook. The sight of you so calm, unfettered by his loss and so beautiful was almost maddening.
The towel laid on the floor, his hand cradled your jaw and he slid in. The thrusts were rough, you gagged softly as his other hand threaded into your hair. His lips parted, eyes unreadable, when he saw yours tear up as he pushed too far he finally let out a groan.
“There we go, pretty little slut” he let out in a breathy growl, “let me use you”.
Blaise Zabini
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The metallic taste of the rings on his fingers on your tongue surprised you. You blinked your eyes open half awake. Your body had been flush against Blaise as you slept, unaware he had been staring for ten minutes dying to feel you.
When the saliva coated fingers dragged between your thighs, you let in a soft gasp. His other hand clamped your mouth as he softly teased your clit ignoring your whimpers. Hungry, searching finally when he felt you dripping and ready for him he yielded his touch. Shifting on top of you, his hand never left your mouth. He knew by the half lidded look in your eyes and the way your thighs spread open eagerly that you were needy.
He shoved his cock inside of you, burying it as deeply as he could as his face fell into your shoulder. His free hand pinning your hip so he could control the painfully slow and intense movement. He pushed you over the edge easily and when he finished he rolled back off of you leaving you dripping and breathless as he fell back asleep.
Tom Riddle
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Many would assume that it would have been Tom who wanted to use you freely and not the other way around. True dominance for him, wasn’t taking you whenever he wanted. It was knowing he held your desire in the palm of his hand. Nothing made him happier than knowing that you needed him.
Tom was more than happy to lay nude on his bed, on arm behind his head and the other holding a book. The music he usually played while he studied replaced by the sounds of you moaning as you rode his cock eagerly.
Your skin glistened from effort, your cheeks flushed and breath heavy. Your whimpers and whines pleased him as he mulled over the Charm Theories text book in his hand. Only lowering it a moment to catch a glimpse of you trying to desperately chasing your high. You may be using his cock but he denied you the effort, the attention the friction you truly needed. And he loved it.
If you managed to fuck yourself to orgasm with your needy, pathetic movements he would be tickled. Amused. But he preferred you frustrated and desperate for later. Where he would have you on his own terms.
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