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jungwnies · 2 months ago

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F1 GRID | somewhere along the way, friendship fades

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis : childhood best friends drift apart, their connection fading with time. and years later, meeting again.

୨ৎ : genre : angst, sad themes ୨ৎ : tws : arguing ୨ৎ : word count : 3499

୨ masterlist ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : i was watching "our little secret" on netflix and i got inspired to do this :c def a 10/10 watch

ʚ・max verstappen

the smell of burnt rubber and stroopwafels defined your childhood. growing up as the daughter of one of the engineers, your playground was the karting track, and your partner in crime was max, who seemed to never catch a break. scraped knees, stolen frites, and endless races—it was always a competition. and even though he was faster, you never let him win easily.

“you’re getting slow,” you’d tease when he’d lap you, and he’d fire back, “or maybe you’re just not trying hard enough.”

but childhood doesn’t last forever. as max’s talent propelled him forward, your worlds began to split. he moved to monaco, chasing the formula 1 dream, while you stayed home, building a life far from the roar of engines.

the breaking point came during one of his rare calls. you told him about getting into university, excitement bubbling through the phone.

“that’s great,” he said, but his voice was distant. “i’ve got a strategy meeting. i’ll call you later, okay?”

“but max—”

the line went dead before you could finish.

you never called back. neither did he. the silence was deafening, only broken by headlines about his victories.

years passed. you built your career, surrounded yourself with people who cared about you. still, there was always that quiet ache, a max-shaped hole you couldn’t quite fill.

...

fate intervened in monaco, of all places. a work trip brought you to the grand prix weekend, and there he was—older, sharper, surrounded by reporters. the boy you knew had grown into a man, but the familiar intensity in his blue eyes was still there.

he spotted you, and for a moment, time rewound. “you’ve got to be kidding me,” he said, smirking as he pulled you into a hug.

“you’re really here,” max said, his voice even but his eyes giving him away.

“don’t sound too surprised,” you replied, crossing your arms. “monaco isn’t exactly hard to find, and my dad forced me to accompany him.”

he huffed a laugh, scratching the back of his neck—a gesture you remembered all too well. “it’s just... been a while.”

“whose fault is that?” you shot back, eyebrow raised.

his grin faltered, replaced by something softer, more sincere. “mine,” he admitted, no hesitation. max had never been one to dance around the truth. “i messed up. i thought... if i focused on racing, everything else would just stay in place. but it didn’t. i didn’t.”

you blinked, caught off guard by the honesty. “and now?”

“now?” he shrugged, his lips twitching into a small smirk. “now i know better. or at least, i’m trying to.”

you rolled your eyes, but your chest felt lighter. “trying might actually suit you.”

“don’t push it,” he said, his grin returning. but his hand brushed yours, lingering just long enough to say what words couldn’t.

the two of you walked along the harbor, the chaos of the grand prix fading into the background. max talked about the weight of expectations, the need to prove himself, and you found yourself telling him things you hadn’t said aloud in years.

“you know,” he said eventually, glancing at you, “you were the first person to beat me. that’s why i kept coming back.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “don’t tell me i’m your origin story, verstappen.”

“i’m serious,” he said, his tone light but his gaze steady. “you pushed me. you still do.”

“and you still hate losing,” you replied, your smile widening.

“only to you,” he said, and for once, there was no teasing in his voice—just max, stripped of the bravado.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, you realized the years apart hadn’t erased what you meant to each other. instead, they’d made it clearer. and standing there with him, the boy who always chased the fastest lap and the man who’d finally stopped running, you felt like you’d found your way back home.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

the skate park beneath the london flyover, painted with graffiti and echoing with the rattle of skateboards, was where it all began. you and lewis—two kids with scraped knees and bigger dreams than you dared to say aloud. he was magnetic even then, always the showman, flipping tricks with effortless swagger while you rolled your eyes, trying not to laugh when he wiped out.

“you see that?” he’d grin, brushing off the dust like he hadn’t just landed flat on his back. “one day, everyone will.”

you’d shake your head, hiding your smile. “maybe if you stop showing off and stick the landing.”

those nights under london’s orange-tinted sky were your sanctuary. but dreams have a way of pulling people in different directions. lewis chased his at 200 mph, trading the skate park for circuits around the world. and you? you stayed grounded, carving out a life with your own quiet determination.

the drift wasn’t dramatic, just... inevitable. the calls came less often, the texts faded, and soon the only glimpses you had of him were on tv, his victories splashed across headlines. you were proud, of course, but it didn’t make the distance hurt any less.

years later, the rhythm of a jazz club in soho pulled you in. the smoky air, the hum of conversation—it felt like stepping into another world. and there he was, sitting in the corner, surrounded by friends, his laugh carrying over the music. he looked... different. calmer, more self-assured, the bravado softened into something real.

his eyes met yours across the room, and the recognition was instant. that signature grin spread across his face, and before you could overthink it, he was already walking toward you.

“it’s been a minute,” he said, his voice warm, familiar.

“a few laps around the world, at least,” you replied, crossing your arms but unable to stop your smile.

he introduced you to his friends—musicians, artists, people with the same kind of restless ambition he always had. the conversation flowed easily, stories and laughter filling the gaps left by the years. lewis talked about the weight of being at the top, his growing love for music, fashion, and using his platform for something bigger than himself.

“you’ve always been good at making noise,” you teased, and he laughed, that bright, unrestrained laugh you hadn’t heard in so long.

the night stretched into dawn, the city quieting as he walked you home. the streetlights cast long shadows, and for a moment, it felt like you were kids again, sneaking through the city after curfew.

“you were always my reminder,” he said suddenly, his voice low. “of where i came from. of what mattered before all of... this.” he gestured vaguely, as if the world he now lived in was too vast to put into words.

“and you were always proof,” you replied softly, “that even the wildest dreams aren’t out of reach.”

standing on your doorstep, the first light of morning brushing the horizon, it hit you—this wasn’t just a chance meeting. this was a reconnection, built on the foundation of a shared past and the people you’d become in the years since.

“don’t disappear again,” you said, half a command, half a plea.

“not a chance,” he replied, that grin softening into something more serious. “i’ve got too much catching up to do.”

as he walked away, the city waking around you, you felt it: the bond you’d thought you’d lost was still there, stronger for the time apart. and maybe, just maybe, this was the start of a new chapter you hadn’t seen coming.

ʚ・george russell

the beach at brancaster felt like a time capsule—same crashing waves, same salty breeze, but now heavy with memories you couldn’t quite shake. summers here used to be everything. you and george, running barefoot through the sand, laughing until your sides ached, dreaming of futures too big for this sleepy little town. he was the dreamer, always looking ahead, while you stayed grounded, the one to remind him where he came from.

but dreams pulled him away. karting turned into formula 1, and suddenly, the boy you shared chips and inside jokes with was a name on TV, surrounded by lights and cameras. the texts slowed, then stopped. he didn’t say goodbye—you weren’t sure if that made it better or worse.

years later, you came back. the town had changed, but the beach hadn’t, and neither had the ache you felt when you saw him standing there, surfboard in hand, staring at the water like it might hold answers.

“you’re here,” he said, voice softer than you remembered.

“so are you,” you replied, trying to sound casual when your heart was doing backflips.

the conversation was awkward at first, years of silence sitting heavy between you. but as the sun dipped low, you found yourself talking like you used to—about life, dreams, and all the things you didn’t say before.

“i messed up,” george admitted finally, staring at the horizon. “i thought chasing my dream meant letting go of everything else. but i never stopped missing you.”

you wanted to be angry, to tell him how much it hurt, but instead, you just sighed. “you’re here now. that’s what matters.”

and maybe it was. because as the tide rolled in, washing away the old scars, it felt like a new beginning—not perfect, but something worth holding onto.

ʚ・carlos sainz

the spanish sun blazed down on the dusty karting track, heat shimmering off the asphalt. carlos was already revving his engine, leaning out of his kart with that trademark grin—the kind that got him out of trouble more times than you could count. "you ready, or are you still fussing over those tires?" he teased, voice playful but competitive.

"some of us like to win without excuses," you shot back, trying to mask your smile.

that was always the dynamic: his fiery, carefree confidence against your calculated focus. you made each other better, but more than that, you were each other's constant—until you weren't.

his talent took him places you couldn't follow. as carlos climbed higher, from karting circuits to formula 1, the calls came less, the visits stopped. he’d always promised, "don’t worry, we’ll figure it out," but the silence between you became louder than any excuse he could give. you told yourself it was fine, that this was just what growing up looked like. but it still hurt—a kind of quiet ache that settled in your chest every time his name flashed on a headline instead of your phone.

years later, you found yourself at a grand prix—not for him, not really, but you couldn’t stay away. the roar of engines, the smell of burning rubber—it all brought you back to those summers when life was simpler, when the world was just the two of you and a dusty track.

after the race, you wandered near the paddock, unsure if you wanted to see him. but before you could decide, you heard his voice: "¡tú! no puede ser…" (you! no way…)

you froze as carlos jogged toward you, his face lighting up in a way that made your chest tighten. "what are you doing here?" he asked, pulling you into a hug before you could respond.

"just watching the race," you said, trying to sound casual. "looks like you’ve gotten a bit better since karting."

he laughed, running a hand through his hair. "and you’re still a pain in my ass, huh?"

you fell into step beside him, talking as if the years hadn’t stretched so far between you. he opened up in a way you didn’t expect—about the pressure, the loneliness, the weight of expectations he never asked for. "sometimes, i miss the old days," he admitted quietly. "it wasn’t perfect, but… it felt real."

"it was real," you said softly, meeting his gaze.

the night slipped by as you talked about everything and nothing, the gap between who you were and who you’d become slowly closing. as the paddock emptied out, he turned to you, his expression uncharacteristically serious.

"i let you down," he said, voice low. "i got so caught up in everything… i didn’t mean to lose you."

you sighed, the bitterness you’d held onto finally starting to loosen. "i let you go, too," you admitted. "but maybe we’re both here for a reason."

a smile broke through his guilt. "then let’s not waste it," he said, his hand brushing yours as if testing the waters.

and just like that, it felt like the beginning of something new—different, but maybe even better. under the dim glow of the paddock lights, with the distant hum of the city, you let yourself believe in second chances.

ʚ・charles leclerc

the monaco grand prix had always been your thing. after every race, you and charles would sneak onto the track, the echo of engines still ringing in your ears. he’d climb the barriers, striking a dramatic pose like he’d just won. “take a picture! i need proof for when it’s real,” he’d say, grinning as you rolled your eyes but clicked the photo anyway.

back then, it was simple—just the two of you, two dreamers chasing something bigger. he was the wild one, always pushing limits, and you? the voice of reason, his constant tether. but as the karting trophies turned into f3 contracts, things shifted. the calls became shorter, the silences longer.

“you don’t understand!” he snapped one night, frustration simmering in his voice. “this is my life now. my future.”

“and we’re not part of that?” you shot back, fighting to keep your tone steady.

his face faltered, a flicker of guilt crossing his features. but then came the stubbornness, the pride. “this is bigger than us,” he said quietly.

those words broke something between you. and the silence that followed stretched for years.

...

monaco hadn’t been in your plans this year, but your friends dragged you to the paddock. the glitz, the champagne—it all felt so distant from the memories you held of sneaking around with charles, pretending to be part of the action. and then, there he was. sharper, leaner, every inch the f1 star. but when his eyes locked on yours, the familiar spark was unmistakable.

“still sneaking into races?” his grin was crooked, teasing.

“you’re one to talk,” you quipped, unable to suppress a smile.

he muttered a quick excuse to his entourage, then turned back to you. “come on. let’s see if the harbor’s still our spot.”

as you walked, the years apart melted away. the easy rhythm returned—teasing, laughing, sharing the unspoken weight of the years. he opened up about the pressures, the loneliness. you admitted the regret, the what-ifs.

“i never stopped missing this,” he said, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “missing you.”

“same,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “you were always...charles.”

“what does that mean?” he asked, a laugh escaping, but there was an edge of nervousness to it.

“it means you’re impossible. but you’re also...you.”

under the stars, by the water’s edge, the pieces fell back into place. his hand brushed against yours, tentative, before settling there. “so, is this where you tell me to stop being impossible?”

“never,” you said, smiling. “you wouldn’t be charles if you did.”

and for the first time in years, it felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

ʚ・lando norris

the fields of somerset were your world once, filled with the roar of go-kart engines and lando’s endless laughter. you two were inseparable—best friends with big dreams, racing not just for fun but for a future you both believed in.

“one day,” lando had said, his grin so wide it was almost ridiculous, “we’ll both be there, except i'll be on the track, and you'll be cheering me on."

“in your dreams, lando,” you shot back, playfully shoving him.

but then the dream started to come true, lando got faster, better, and soon, he was gone, swept up by the racing world. at first, he called after every race, sending photos and jokes to bridge the distance. but the calls became fewer, the texts shorter, until one day they stopped altogether.

“you’ll always be my mate,” he’d promised before he left. but you weren’t so sure anymore.

years passed. you moved on—or tried to. then, one day, you found yourself at silverstone, sitting in the grandstands as the engines roared to life. lando was on the grid, his helmet unmistakable. it felt strange, watching him from so far away, like a stranger instead of the boy you once knew.

after the race, you lingered near the paddock, unsure why you stayed. you didn’t even realize he was there until his voice cut through the noise.

“wait—wait! is that…?” lando stopped mid-step, his wide eyes locking on you. “no way!”

you tried to play it cool, shrugging. “just thought i’d check if you’re still slow.”

his laugh was instant, that same contagious laugh you hadn’t heard in years. “still cheeky, i see. c’mon, don’t just stand there.”

before you could protest, he dragged you into the paddock, his energy as chaotic as ever. it felt awkward at first—forced small talk, apologies buried under nervous jokes.

“i messed up, didn’t i?” he blurted suddenly, his grin fading. “i got caught up in… all of this. forgot what mattered.”

you looked at him, surprised. “yeah, you did. but… i guess i get it. it’s a lot to carry.”

“still,” he said softly, meeting your eyes. “i should’ve tried harder. you didn’t deserve that.”

you sighed, the tension in your chest easing slightly. “well, i’m here now, aren’t i? so stop being sappy and tell me how you survived that awful start.”

he laughed, a mix of relief and gratitude in his expression. “god, you're still an ass. don’t go disappearing again, yeah?”

“only if you don’t.” you snap back, with a cheeky smile.

as the night went on, the awkwardness gave way to something familiar—something that felt like home. and as you left the paddock, lando jogging beside you, stealing chips from your hand like nothing had changed, you realized it wasn’t too late to start over. the bond you thought was lost was still there, waiting for you both to remember how to hold on.

ʚ・oscar piastri

the family barbecue was meant to be casual—just a gathering of old friends and neighbors at the piastris’ home during the off-season. you hadn’t planned to go, but your parents insisted. “it’ll be nice,” they said, not knowing how wrong they were.

you spotted oscar almost immediately, standing by the grill with his dad. his posture was the same, hands stuffed in his pockets, but everything else felt different. gone was the boy you knew, replaced by someone who looked sharper, more distant—someone who belonged to a world you’d never been part of.

the last time you’d spoken was years ago, before his meteoric rise through motorsport. back then, you were the ones sharing data sheets, racing each other at karting events, and joking about who’d make it to formula 1 first. “we’ll always stick together,” he’d said, almost solemnly. but as the sponsorship deals rolled in and the calls stopped, you realized how naïve that promise had been.

you didn’t approach him right away. instead, you lingered by the drink table, hoping he wouldn’t notice you. but oscar was nothing if not observant.

“hey,” he said suddenly, appearing at your side. his voice was quieter than you remembered, less certain.

“hi.” you didn’t look at him, keeping your eyes fixed on your cup.

“i didn’t know you’d be here.” he sounded awkward, almost nervous, which was strange for someone who now handled press conferences with ease.

you shrugged. “didn’t really plan on it.”

a beat of silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable. he shifted his weight, running a hand through his hair. “look, i—i’m sorry. for everything.”

you finally turned to him, eyebrows raised. “for what? forgetting i existed?”

his face fell, and for a moment, he looked just like the boy you used to know—unsure, searching for the right words. “i didn’t mean to. things just… happened so fast. and i didn’t know how to balance it all.”

“you could’ve tried.” the words came out harsher than you intended, but you didn’t regret them.

he nodded, his gaze dropping to the ground. “you’re right. i should have.”

another silence fell, this one softer, less suffocating.

“so,” you said eventually, crossing your arms. “what now? we pretend like nothing happened?”

he looked up, meeting your eyes for the first time. “no. i don’t want that. i just… i’d like to fix this. if you’ll let me.”

you didn’t answer right away, letting the words hang in the air. but then you sighed, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “you’ve got a lot to make up for, oscar.”

his own smile broke through, hesitant but genuine. “i’ll start now then.”

and for the first time in years, you felt like maybe—just maybe—there was still a place for you in his world.

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lupinqs · 2 months ago

Note

p being an annoying talkative fuck during sex LOL

TALKING TOO MUCH ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: paige is too damn talkative during sex

☆ ━ word count: 1.8K

☆ ━ warnings: smut!!!!!!! (strap, r receiving) just porn absolutely no plot

☆ ━ links: my masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: i wrote this in like 10 minutes sorry if it’s shit lol

AS THE ROOM grows hotter with each passing second, the dim lighting casting long, intimate shadows across the bed, Paige’s body moves in time with yours, your breaths mingling. The weight of Paige against you, the rhythm of her hips, the heat building between you—it’s all you can focus on at first. Paige’s slow, steady thrusts drive you closer and closer to that precipice, each motion precise, purposeful.

But then Paige starts talking.

At first, it isn’t too much—just small murmurs of praise, things like “you feel so good” or “God, I love you.” Words that you’d usually melt over, but tonight, Paige isn’t stopping. Her words come faster, more incessant, and you find yourself struggling to focus. Paige’s voice, usually low and breathless and sinful, fills the space between you, but it’s becoming more of distraction than an enhancement.

“You like that?” Paige asks, her voice breathy but insistent, leaning down to kiss the edge of your jaw between words. “Fuck, mama, you’ve never looked hotter. Seriously. Look so good under me like this. Love seein’ it. D’you want it slower or—?”

“Paige…” Your breath hitches, not from the pleasure but from the interruption. You can feel Paige’s body continuing to move against yours, her strap going in and out of you, but the steady flow of words keep pulling your attention away from the sensation.

Paige presses her lips to your ear, her voice softer now, but still just as persistent. “I just—you’re so perfect, baby. So perfect for me. Can you feel how deep—?”

You let out a soft, exasperated noise, your head tipping back against the pillow as you try to regain your focus, the pleasure that’s been building actually starting to ebb away as Paige keeps on fucking yapping.

Genuinely, you wonder if she has ADHD or something.

“Paige…” you whisper again, a little more firmly this time, trying to guide the blonde back to the moment, back to the your bodies move so perfectly together.

But Paige doesn’t seem to notice. “I—fuck—I love how you feel, ma. It’s just—God, it’s so good, yeah? You’re incredible. Fucking incredible, baby. I could do this all fuckin’ night, seriously, just—”

You can’t take it anymore.

With a quick motion, you reach up and press a hand to Paige’s lips, your fingers gently silencing her mid-sentence. Her eyes widen slightly in surprise, her body stilling for just a moment as she looks down at you, confused.

“Shh,” you murmur, slow but firm, your eyes locking onto Paige’s with an almost amused frustration. Your lips quirk upwards slightly. “Baby, you’re talking too much.”

Paige’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, her lips still caught beneath your hand, but there’s a playful gleam in her eyes, as if she didn’t even realize what she’s been doing.

You don’t give her a chance to respond—or to start talking again. Instead, you pull her face down toward yours, capturing Paige’s lips in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. It’s deep, slow, and you pour everything you have into it, hoping to redirect Paige’s energy. Your hand slides from the blonde’s lips to the back of her neck, pulling her even closer, deepening the kiss until all you can feel is Paige—her warmth, her breath, the soft moan that escapes her as your tongue slips into her mouth.

Paige seems to get the message.

Her body starts moving again, her hips resuming their slow, deliberate rhythm, but this time, her words are replaced by soft, breathy sounds, the two of you finally beginning to sync. The tension returns, the heat between you rising again, and your focus narrows back to the feeling of Paige moving inside you, the way your bodies are pressed so tightly together, every inch of your skin tingling from the closeness.

Paige pulls back from the kiss just slightly, her lips hovering over yours as she whispers, “Sorry.” Her breath is warm against your mouth, but this time, there’s no rush to speak, just the soft murmur of apology, followed by another kiss, slower, deeper.

You smile against her lips, your frustration melting away as the familiar heat builds within your stomach. You pull Paige closer, your hips moving in perfect sync with here, no more words, no more interruptions. Just the steady rise and fall of breaths, the press of the strap within you, the warmth of Paige’s skin against yours.

This is what you needed tonight—quiet, intimate, just the two of you lost in the moment together. Paige, finally quiet, lets her body do the talking, her movements speaking louder than any words could. Every thrust is slow but purposeful, every kiss a promise, and you feel yourself sinking deeper into the sensation, your body trembling as Paige brings you closer and closer to the edge.

“Better?” Paige whispers after a long moment, her voice softer now, almost teasing as she pulls back just enough to catch your gaze.

You let out a breathless laugh, nodding as you tighten your grip on Paige’s shoulders, pulling her back down for another kiss, unable to form words through the gaze of pleasure building.

The blonde’s hips begin to pick up their pace, the rhythm of her thrusts growing faster and deeper. Your breath quickens, chest rising and falling in fast, shallow breaths. One of your hands falls from Paige’s shoulder to the mattress, your fingers digging into the sheets, gripping tightly.

“Fuck, P,” you gasp out, squeezing your eyes shut. You feel her pinch your hip a little, and it makes your gaze flutter back, locking onto hers, and she’s got this look in her eye that has your nails curling into her shoulder harshly.

Your breath catches as Paige’s next thrust hits deeper, the sound squelching, meeting that perfect spot right inside you. “Mm, so good,” you murmur to her, hand moving from her shoulder to her hair, tugging slightly. “Feels so good… keep doin’ that.”

Paige’s lips brush against your neck, her breath hot against your skin as she kisses her way down the curve of your throat. The soft, wet press of Paige’s mouth against your pulse makes your heart race even faster, the heat in your belly growing more intense with every second. You throw your head back slightly, hair splayed out across the pillow, as a soft moan escapes your lips.

“Yes, like that,” you gasp, body arching up against Paige’s. “Fuck.”

Paige pulls back just enough to look down at you, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. Her eyes glint with amusement and something darker, more teasing. She’s covered in sweat, and she gleams all fucking over. “Who’s the talkative one now, huh?” she whispers, voice low and goading.

Your head snaps forward, eyes narrowing as you shoot Paige a look that’s equal parts frustration and desire. “Shut up,” you whine, the words laced with a mix of need and exasperation. But they’re barely out of your mouth before Paige’s hips move again thrusting hard, and you let out a louder, desperate moan.

Paige’s smirk only deepen, and she doesn’t slow down, doesn’t ease up. She thrusts agin, then again, her damned purple strap hitting that same perfect spot inside you with precision, over and fucking over. Your entire body tenses, your fingers clawing at the sheets as you let out another sharp cry of pleasure.

“God, right there,” you whimper, voice shaking. “Please, P, don’t stop.”

Paige’s lips find your neck again, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear, sending shivers down your spine. She thrusts harder now, her body pressing you deeper into the mattress with each movement, her breath coming in hot, ragged gasps against your skin.

You can feel the tension building within you, your muscles tightening, your breath growing more erratic as Paige continues to slam her hips into yours, unrelenting, perfect. The pleasure could tighter and tighter in your abdomen, ready to snap at any second.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Your voice is barely more than a breathy whimper now, your hips lifting to meet Paige’s every movement, chasing that overwhelming, all-consuming release that’s just out of reach.

Paige pulls away just enough to look right in your eyes, her breath heavy, chest heaving, her lips swollen from the kisses. She rolls her hips again, watching your face contort in pleasure, your body trembling beneath her. A little noise escapes the back of her throat at the wet sound of her strap deep within your pussy.

“You close?” she asks roughly.

You can only nod, your mouth falling open in a soundless moan as Paige hits that spot again, harder this time, sending a shockwave through your entire body.

“Shit, ma,” Paige groans, her words returning as your climax approaches—she always talks the most when you’re about to cum. Her hand holds your hip down as her movements speed up, and the sound of her skin slapping against yours, the squelching of your soaking cunt—it’s overwhelming. “Listen to that. Tellin’ me to be quiet when that pussy screamin’ for me. Screamin’ for my dick. C’mon, now, baby.”

It’s true. The noises resounding from your lower half are loud and you’d probably be embarrassed if you weren’t so fucked out. And it only gets more obscene when her fingers find your clit, rubbing it in quick, sure circles.

“Cum for me, mama,” Paige murmurs, voice soft but commanding as she leans down to kiss your parted lips. “Cum all fuckin’ over me. Needa feel that sweet shit.”

That’s all it takes. Your body arches up off the bed, your back bowing as the pleasure finally snaps, sending you spiraling into a release so intense it leaves you shaking. Your nails dig into the back of Paige’s neck, tugging at her hair, eyes squeezing shut as wave after wave of euphoria washes over you, your entire body trembling beneath Paige’s.

She doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down riding out your orgasm with steady, deep thrusts, her mouth pressed to your neck, whispering praises against your skin.

When the last of the tremors finally subsides, you collapse back against the pillows, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Paige slows her movements, pulling out gently before rolling onto her side next to you. She slips out of the strap before propping herself up on an elbow as she looks down at you, a soft, smug smile playing at the edges of her lips.

“You good?” she asks tenderly, trailing her fingers soothingly along your arm.

You nod, still trying to calm your breathing, your body feeling deliciously spent. You turn your head to meet Paige’s gaze, lips curling into a lazy, satisfied smile.

“Yeah… just… shut up next time,” you tease, your voice breathy but full of warmth.

Paige chuckles softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, her fingers brushing lightly through your damp hair. “I’ll try,” she whispers against your skin, lips lingering.

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fic #uconn huskies #wcbb #wbb #uconn #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fluff #ncaa wbb #wcbb x reader #wnba #wlw #wlw smut #lgbtq

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oh-no-its-bird · 2 months ago

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Sakumo being a super popular borderline sex symbol in his era will never stop being my favorite hc, I need to see more of it

All the people his age and younger had a crush on him. It was just a Thing(tm) where 9 times out of 10, a Konoha shinobi's first crush was probably Sakumo. Even other villages young shinobi hung up his bingo book picture above their bunk and dreamed of both killing him, being killed by him (in a hot way), having a battlefield fling with him, and more. There was blackmarket fanfiction. He was incredibly popular among civilians all over fire country. Some popular romance novels had love interests very blatantly based off him.

Even before they were on a team together, Obito and Rin both had a silly kid crush on Kakashi's dad (Obito more than Rin) and he was aware of it. This did not help make him like them any more. (By the time hearing smthn positive ab his dad would have made Kakashi softer, they'd both gotten better at hiding the crush, so to Kakashi it looked like they'd gotten over Sakumo.) Even Minato had a bit of a thing for him, not really but like— strong, popular, feard and very friendly ninja who is now paying him some attention (bc hes his kids teacher) he's not immune. Kushina understands, she is also not immune. (Kakashi is going to throw a fucking fit)

Even after his failed mission, when his reputation crashes and burns within the village, he still can't completely shake his admirers— they possibly just get more disrespectful ab the attraction when it mixes with the hate. (Which tbh could make for an interesting discussion all on its own)

Kakashi is haunted by his father's insane popularity for decades after his death. He does his very best to ignore the lingering evidence of people being insane ab his father.

One day he realizes one of his favorite romance novels has a romance interest based off Sakumo and has a break down ab it and can never read the series again.

When raiding an old abandoned enemy camp w Team Ro, he finds an old, autographed photo of his dad covered in lipstick marks in the communal bathroom. He chooses to ignore it but it's quickly spotted by his teammates, who do not know who Sakumk is, and v quickly begin to remark on the poster, who this mysterious Konoha nin is, and ahaha damn he is kinda good looking, huh? (Kakashi wants to DIE)

Shisui ends up taking the poster back to Konoha with them and hangs it up in the ANBU communal quarters where it is VERY quickly recognized. And also some of the people in that room recognize it so quick bc they also used to own a similar poster. (Kakashi wants to DIE someone PLEASE kill him now)

Its only when he's given team 7 that he finally thinks he's escaped the legacy of his father as Konoha's Most Sexiest Shinobi. Only for Naruto, when being trained by Jiriyah, to find his drafts for Icha Icha very clearly inspired by his dad. Which he can never publish for multiple reasons (lingering respect for Sakumo. Also for Kakashi, who is his biggest fan and would probably never look at him again.)

Naruto somehow accidentally brings this up with Kakashi who like. Has war flashbacks and immediatley stands up and walks away as Jiryah scrambles to try to explain himself and Tsunade looks on in scorn (she will approach him later to carefully ask for the drafts while trying to seem like she's not really asking for them bc she's too proud to admit it)

Naruto and Sakura discover Kakashi-sensei's dad was a sex symbol. I don't even know how they'd react but like. Oh my god. Oh my god you guys.

Funniest option would be they accidentally revive his popularity a little bit by being so loud ab it they like, remind people ab him. + introduce another generation to the idea of him

Kakashi is crouched on the floor with his face in his hands. When will he be freed from this hell.

Sasuke does not escape tho, he goes to sound and finds a picture of Sensei's dad in Orochimaru's office (???????)

This is such a shitty sketch but the vision:

Itachi, who learned who Sakumo was from that poster thing, goes on to find a photo of him in ""Madara's"" belongings and gets super weirded out but ultimately doesn't. Super care. But also. Like. What. What.

After Itachi finds the photo, which Obito genuinley forgot he fucking had and keeps in part just bc its like one of the only belongings that remained from his Konoha days, he shoves it somewhere in Kamui to forget about.

But then in the Obito vs Kakashi Kamui fight, it fucking flutters down in the middle of the fight and Obito fucking dies of humiliation as Kakashi realizes he will truly Never Escape and that this reality is his own personal hell

Uhh endgame Kakashi becomes Hokage and accidentally retreads his father's path in becoming the new Konoha Sexy Man. Which simultaneously crushes him (he will never escape) and fills him with delight (he will now be able to impart the pain of having your father figure be lusted after by all ur friends and acquaintances onto his students)

#sakumo hatake #hatake sakumo #kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi #orochimaru #naruto #naruto shippuden #sakumo #birds fic talk #team 7 #sakura haruno #haruno sakura #sasuke uchiha #uchiha sasuke #jiraiya naruto #itachi uchiha #uchiha itachi #obito uchiha #uchiha obito

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asofterutena · 2 years ago

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(Don’t see me. Just look at me.)

#a softer world #revolutionary girl utena #shoujo kakumei utena #a softer world remix #rguedit #touga kiryuu #touga and nanami #nanami kiryuu #asw 88 #10 2022 #ep: nanami's precious thing

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moonstruckme · 7 months ago

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OMGGGGGGG

the first kiss was so cute!!! perfect!! james was so sweet and gentle w her😍😭😭

can’t wait to see there dynamic from now on

Thank you gorgeous! I held onto this so I'd have something to post this last part to, hope you don't mind <3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

James is buzzing while he makes breakfast the next morning. Golden morning light pours in through the front windows, brightening the kitchen and warming his back where he stands in front of the stove, the buttery smell of pancake batter wafting up from the pan. He’d gone to bed later than usual last night and slept hard but woke jittery, desperate to do something about the commotion in his chest.

A run hadn’t done it, nor had replaying the previous night in his head, and now he’s convinced he won’t be able to rest until he can kiss you again. It’s your fault, really. Your little sighs, your careful touches, the way you’d tugged at the roots of his hair when he asked you to, like all this time you’d only been waiting for permission. You’ve fucked him. James will never be able to get over it. Now, all he can think about is getting more.

He’s made more pancakes than a family of five could eat when he hears the stair creak.

“Good morning,” he says, turning around just as you pad into the kitchen, quiet as a ghost.

Your eyes are bleary, but they still manage to widen slightly as you take him in, along with the precarious tower of pancakes beside him. You’re in that sweatshirt he loves so much, sleeves hanging limply from your hands and hem hitting just above your knees.

“Morning,” you say, softer than soft.

“How’d you sleep, lovely?”

You shrug, not quite looking at him. “Fine. You?”

James grins. “Beautifully. You want some pancakes?”

Your gaze goes again to the stack beside him, and he can practically see the quip brewing in your eyes. Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice. Are you planning to feed an army?

“Sure,” you say in that same quiet voice. “Thanks.”

James studies you, intrigued. “Great. C’mere, sweetheart.”

He plates up a few pancakes, keeping one eye on you as he does. You seem disinclined to look even in his general direction, finding distractions with the stove, your plate, the weather outside.

“How’s this?” He turns around with the plate. You take it cautiously, by the complete opposite end to avoid any possibility of making contact with his hand. James’ heart warms at the way your fingers just peek out from the sleeve of your sweatshirt to grasp the plate. He wants to kiss you until you don’t know what day it is. “Too many? Not enough?”

“This is good.”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t let go of the plate. He tilts his head, trying to catch your eye, but you evade him. He has a hunch that if he were to touch your face (and god, does he want to) he’d find it burning hot. “Are you alright?”

Your eyes flit up to his for a half a second before fleeing again. You hum, the sound tense and pitchy. “Mhm.”

“You sure?” he asks, matching your soft tone. “Don’t go getting shy on me now.”

You look like you stop breathing.

And ordinarily James might feel bad, but post-kiss James cannot be prevailed upon to treat you as cautiously as he ordinarily might. Unfortunately for you, your secret’s out. You’re lovely, you’d said, voice soft and breathy and mere inches from his own mouth, I like having you around. I do. I really like you. Also unfortunately for you, post-kiss James knows things.

He slips his palm alongside your face, working his hand behind your ear and letting his fingers burrow into the hair behind it. You melt, leaning into the touch. Your eyes meet his.

It’s grueling work to keep from smiling. “What’s wrong, angel?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say, still quietly but now with more of yourself in your voice.

“Really? Because you’re acting like we’ve just met.”

“Don’t you—don’t things feel different to you?” You seem almost distressed, eyebrows hooking upwards just slightly, pretty eyes imploring. Your voice softens again, now more with intimacy than reticence. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to talk with you about.”

James lets his smile loose, thumbing at the skin behind your ear before letting you go. “We can talk about anything you want,” he says simply, grabbing his own plate and leading you into the living room.

You’ve got a perfectly good kitchen table but almost never use it, each preferring to eat your meals on the couch. He flops down, careful not to tip his pancakes onto the cushion as he crosses his legs underneath him like you’re at a sleepover.

“So, have any fun dreams last night?”

You smile. It’s as heart-stoppingly lovely as always, and James thinks his own probably doubles in magnitude in response.

“A couple,” you admit.

“Oh? What about?”

Your smile goes sheepish, bottom lip slipping in between your teeth as if to impede its progress. You fork clinks against the plate as you start cutting up your pancake.

James’ brain short-circuits.

“You were in my dream,” he blurts.

Your eyes flit up to his warily. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It was one of those weird, super vivid dreams where nothing really happens, you know?” You seem to relax a bit. James douses his pancakes in syrup, starting to cut them up as he talks. “We were here, and someone had spilled something on the rug—probably Sirius, to be honest—and it made this huge stain. I’d tried to pour baking soda on it, but the whole box had collapsed and it got everywhere. We were both sitting right there scrubbing with literal toothbrushes, and I think I was worried you’d be upset with me but you were just laughing.” His heart warms at the pseudo-memory, the hazy feeling of contentment that had permeated the dream. The sound of your laugh, exactly as sweet as in real life. “Your hands were totally covered in baking soda, and the rug was ruined, but we were both laughing our heads off.”

You’re smiling again, a small, knowing thing. “Had you said something to make us laugh?”

“No,” he says honestly, “I think it was you.”

James is aware that he’s barely functioning. It’s almost too much to talk and cut his pancakes at the same time while you’re looking at him like that, like he’s the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen. It makes it both a relief and a disappointment when you drop your gaze.

“Do you think the stain might’ve been a premonition?” you ask.

He raises his eyebrows. “How do you mean?”

You laugh, and he’s instantly spellbound, caught somewhere between fantasy and reality. It takes him a second to realize you’re touching the edge of his plate, tipping it up. James looks down. It had been nearly falling off his lap, his pancakes cut up into tiny pieces and syrup pooled near the rim.

You look up at him, seraphim with the morning light brightening your features and the hint of a smile playing on your lips. He thinks of how soft they’d felt on his the night before, the way they’d fallen open like welcoming him home.

“You were almost spilling syrup onto the rug,” you say, that rare and beloved teasing lilt to your voice. “It would’ve taken more than baking soda to get that out.”

“See?” he asks. “You know how to talk to me just fine.”

You look surprised, then self-conscious, though not nearly as bad as when you’d come into the kitchen a few minutes ago. He covers your hand with his to keep you from going anywhere. Sets his plate on the coffee table.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes are wide. “Again?”

“Yes, again,” James laughs. “And again after that, preferably. Only if it’s okay with you.”

You shake your head, looking something akin to bewildered. “Yeah. Yeah, please.”

He starts to lean toward you, and you meet him halfway. Already, it’s a bit different. There’s no tentative stillness, no slow yielding. Your lips are pliant and eager, parting and closing around his like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Your fingers wind in his hair without instruction, and James responds by placing his hand in that spot you’d seemed to like it so well last night, the material of your sweatshirt soft beneath his touch. You taste like his pancakes, the syrup sweet on your tongue.

“Keep talking to me,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your lips worshipfully, “okay?”

Your voice is breathless. “Why?”

“Because I like you.” He tugs at you, wanting you closer. “And I think I’ve put in the work for you to warm up to me, if it’s all the same to you.”

You make a tiny, amused sound. “Fine,” you say. You grow bolder, kissing your way up his cheek, the top of his eyebrow, until your nose is nestled in his hair and your lips are caressing his forehead. “Consider me warmed.”

James grins, unable to help himself. He thinks that becoming your friend didn’t go quite as he planned, but he feels as though he won in the end.

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cozycottagetarot · 2 months ago

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The Little Things That Drive Them Wild

Notes: I've been working on this all week, I'm depressed and on top of that burnt out and exhausted soooo sorry if I missed any mistakes!

💄 Reading Contents:

How Do You Unintentionally Captivate Them?

The Personality Traits They Find Magnetic

Your Everyday Charm

💋 Patreon Extended:

Moments When They Feel Weak for You

Their Favorite “Caught in the Act” Moments

How They Fantasize About Responding

This reading is for entertainment purposes only! Take only what resonates be it all, some or none! ✨

PILE 1

How Do You Unintentionally Captivate Them?

Cards: Page of Cups, Two of Wands, Sun,

For some reason, the first thing that comes to mind is someone caught mid-thought, their eyes kind of distant but soft, lost in a dream or musing about something exciting. There’s something so captivating about when you slip into those moments. It’s like you radiate this quiet, hopeful energy that makes your person wonder what’s going on in that mind of yours. To them, it's irresistible.

You also have this undeniable joy exuding from you. The kind that can infects others without them even noticing. When you’re fully in the moment, letting this joy pour out of you, it’s like the world around you disappears for your person. They’re completely pulled in without you even trying.

I also keep getting this image of you smiling—a genuine, effortless kind of smile—and your person being absolutely smitten. You seem to have this way of lighting up when you’re excited or happy, and it’s almost like they can’t help but feel it, too.

The Personality Traits They Find Magnetic

Cards: Knight of Swords, Death, Seven of Wands

The first thing that stands out is your ambition and drive—you don’t hesitate to charge forward when you’ve set your sights on something, and your person finds that magnetic. And it’s not just that you’re ambitious; it’s the way you act on it. You seek out transformation and change with a sense of confidence and purpose. There’s something so inspiring to your person about the way you embrace growth, even when it means taking risks or stepping into the unknown.

I also get that your fierceness is a big part of what draws them in. I feel like you don’t back down when it comes to defending what you believe in. Even in moments where you might not be 100% correct, the passion you bring when it comes to standing your ground is something your person finds strangely endearing. Part of what draws your person to you is that spitfire energy and the way you throw your whole heart into what you care about.

But you also have a softer energy that balances everything out. You’re someone who's generous and compassionate, maybe even without a second thought. You're the type of person who would stop everything to help an injured animal or lend a hand to someone in need without a second thought. It’s that blend of intensity and gentleness that makes keeps the hooked. Your person loves how multi-dimensional you are—someone who can fight for their beliefs one moment and show deep compassion the next.

Your Everyday Charm

Cards: Five of Cups, Five of Wands, Wheel of Fortune, Ace of Cups

There’s something about you that comes across as a bit mysterious... I feel like in quieter moments when you’re lost in thought or just keeping to yourself, your person may feel like they take the time to really see you. What I mean by this is the little details about you such as the way your features soften when you’re deep in your own world.

I don’t know if you’re someone who fidgets or has a habit of touching things, but it feels like they notice those small quirks. Maybe it’s the way you twirl your hair, tap your fingers, or run your hand over a textured surface— but whatever it is, it’s something they can’t help but find endearing. I'm also getting that in moments where you’re being challenged by others, you may observe before reacting. If they're with you, it’s like they can see the gears turning in your head. They love watching you process things, almost like they’re trying to understand your inner workings of your mind.

There’s also this magical quality about you, like you have this ability to make life feel filled with magic in the simplest of ways. You might not even realize it, but somehow you make them feel like they’re living in a dream. There’s a sweetness to the way you show care, whether it’s through small, everyday gestures or moments where you’re pouring into your person or your relationship. Even mundane things—like making them a cup of coffee, fixing their hair, or just sitting next to them—feel enchanted for your person.

💋 Discover what makes them weak for you, their favorite “Caught in the Act” moments, and how they fantasize about responding (not a spicy reading). Plus, unlock exclusive extended readings for all my other PACs when you join The Cozy Corner for just $1.50 USD (and up). Check it out here.✨

PILE 2

How Do You Unintentionally Captivate Them?

Cards: Five of Wands, Three of Cups, Death

The first thing that comes to mind is your ability to adapt effortlessly to different environments and social circles. It’s like you could seamlessly blend into one group today and an entirely opposite group tomorrow, without missing a beat. This could stem from a survival mechanism you developed throughout your life, but it’s become second nature—a part of who you are. Your ability to navigate these social dynamics with ease is likely something your person finds captivating.

There’s also a strong sense of resilience about you. The way you handle conflict or challenging situations seems graceful, almost effortless, even when the odds are stacked against you. Your person might be struck by how you manage to remain composed under pressure and spin difficult moments into opportunities for growth. They might admire the way you emerge from the other side of hardship renewed, stronger, and ready to embrace what’s next.

Beyond that, there’s a warm, supportive energy radiating from you. Whether you’re celebrating with others or offering comfort, you seem to have a knack for making people feel at ease. I also get a sense of enchantment from these cards, almost as if there’s a spark of magic in how you carry yourself. For some reason, Tinker Bell comes to mind—maybe it’s a reminder of your playful, whimsical side or your ability to light up a room in unexpected ways. Maybe it's a confirmation for something you've been pondering on for a bit.

The Personality Traits They Find Magnetic Cards: Seven of Cups (Reversed), Page of Pentacles, The Emperor

You give off an energy of someone who is grounded, decisive, and incredibly self-assured. You have an ability to cut through the noise (of life really). While others might get lost in daydreams or overwhelmed by choices, you’re someone who sees clearly and knows exactly what you want. Your person could likely find this decisiveness magnetic, as it exudes a quiet confidence that feels stable and dependable.

I think you also bring a unique blend of practicality and creativity to the table. You’re someone who can take even the smallest spark of an idea and nurture it into something tangible. You have the focus and drive to bring dreams to life, and that’s an inspiring quality. It’s like you’re the one people look to when they need a plan or want to see something through. You come across as someone who knows how to take charge and create stability, whether in your own life or for those around you. Your person might admire how dependable you are, someone they (and others) can rely on for solid advice or a calm presence in chaotic times. I also feel like you're someone who puts the time and effort in and that's something that just does it for your person.

Your Everyday Charm Cards: Wheel of Fortune, The World, Five of Pentacles

There’s something charming about how you carry yourself through life’s ups and downs and not just the significant moments but the little ones too. Like missing a bus, running late for work, running out of something when you need it (I hope you get the gist lol). I also feel like your person sees beauty not just in your appearance (although that's emphasized as well) but in the way you quietly navigate the dull moments and short term disappointments we experience. You have a way of picking yourself up and boosting your spirit that is endearing. On a daily level, it might be the little things you do to create beauty in your life, no matter the circumstances. Think how you decorate your spaces, plate your food, cultivate a cozy moment.

Your person really admire how you’re able to turn the simplest things into something special, creating a life that feels fulfilling and intentional even when resources are limited. You don’t need the latest trends or expensive items—you can take something as humble as a few old books or scraps and turn them into something that feels genuinely valuable.

Your person notices the way you focus on making things better, no matter the circumstances, and finds it charming and hard to ignore.

Pile 3

How You Unintentionally Captivate Them

Cards: Death, Judgement. The Emperor, The Hierophant

It’s not just one thing—it’s everything about you that pulls them in without you even realizing it. There’s this grounded, unshakeable energy you carry, but it’s wrapped in a quiet elegance that feels so effortless. It’s not about trying to stand out; you just do. The way you move through life—intentional, steady, and composed—creates a presence that people can’t help but notice. Even in chaos, you somehow stay calm, like you’re the eye of the storm.

What really gets them is how deeply you focus on what’s in front of you. It’s like the world blurs around you, and you’re completely in your element. Whether it’s the way your hands move when you’re busy, the calm in your voice when you’re speaking, or the determination in your eyes when you’re locked into something—it’s magnetic. They can’t look away.

It’s in the small, subtle things, too. The way you pay attention to details, how you seem to elevate even the simplest moments, or that quiet confidence you have without even trying. Maybe it’s the way you smile, how kind you are in little ways, or the natural grace you bring into every interaction. It feels like you make life more beautiful just by being in it.

There’s this perfect balance between your strength and your calmness that they can’t get enough of. You’re firm but approachable, confident but kind, and it’s just captivating. They admire how you move through life and how you make them feel just by being yourself.

The Personality Traits They Find Magnetic

Cards: Four of Cups, Eight of Wands, Queen of Wands, Strength

Your person is attracted to how intentional you are about what you let into your world. You don’t say “yes” just to go along with things or settle for something that doesn’t feel right. Your discerning nature makes you stand out and pulls them in.

There’s also the way you move through life with an air of purpose, momentum, and confidence. You don’t linger too long in “what ifs” or overthinking; you simply trust yourself to make the right call and go for it. It makes watching you in action thrilling for your person as you bring this bright, unstoppable energy wherever you go. You’re bold, and you own it, but it never feels forced. It’s just you, shining naturally.

I do think that what makes you really magnetic to your person is how you balance your boldness with gentleness. Beneath all you passion and creativity, there’s a softness that makes people feel safe and seen. It’s in the way you treat others with kindness and show care without making a big deal about it. Even when you’re chasing your passions, you always seem to carry this warmth and thoughtfulness.

Your Everyday Charm

Cards: Wheel of Fortune, Justice, Nine of Pentacles

Somehow, you manage to make the simplest moments feel special, like everything you touch has a hint of magic to it. Even the way you go about your routine feels intentional, like you’re crafting a life that’s all your own.

I know I keep saying it, but the balance you keep on a daily basis charms your person. You’ve got this knack for keeping things in harmony, be it work, downtime, or fun, and on top of that you make it look so natural. It’s not about chasing perfection either, you just do what works for you. I think your person admires this so much.

I think you also manage to genuinely enjoy your everyday life and your person loves that about you. You don’t wait for big moments to feel happy—you find joy in the small stuff. Whether it’s sipping your favorite tea, throwing on an outfit that makes you feel amazing, or stopping to notice something beautiful, you have this way of savoring life that’s so refreshing.

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pac reading #pick a pile reading #pick a picture #pac #tarot reading #cozycottagetarot #pick an image #cozycottagetarot readings #your person #future spouse #love tarot #free tarot reading #free reading tarot

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missdynamighttt · 6 days ago

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About the interview thing where Bakugou say "when I make love to my wife", here is a few more lines he could say! Imagine Bakugou softer when talking about that. He has a lost look and a strange smile on his face, all because of his girl.

"The bed it's our kingdom and she's my queen".

"That's where I belong. In her."

"Being a hero is just my job, something I'm good at for a while. But making love to her? There's nothing better. Knowing that I'm the only one who can make her feel like that, who can adore her like that... And she's the only one for me too. Nothing else matters. Not the fights, the danger, the villains, the paperwork, the pressure or the expectations. Just a husband and wife loving each other all night along."

And in this context, Bakugou would say that he finds pathetic and sad that a man only lasts a few minutes and only one round. Sometimes he hears his fellow heroes talk about sex and he can only feel sorry for their girlfriends, but also proud to know that his wife will never know how those girls feel, because for Katsuki Bakugou if a man is not willing to last at least all night, if each round does not last more than 10 minutes, if he does not have his woman crying with pleasure and love, If he doesn't make her not remember how many times she came, if he don't have sex with her every single day without miss, if she is not on the verge of fainting without being able to walk the next day, is the man really a man or just a poor attempt?

as your husband walks through the threshold of your home, the sound of the lock clicking behind him echoes in the quiet room. katsuki immediately notices the change in the air—there's an awkward tension that wasn't there when he left.

you’re avoiding his gaze, busily moving around the kitchen, trying to keep your mind occupied. you’re embarrassed, the thought of his words replaying in your mind again and again.

the fact that he shared such... intimate, genuine thoughts with the entire world... it wasn’t that you were ashamed, but the sudden attention on your private life caught you off-guard.

"so... you’re gonna act like you didn’t just see me on tv?" katsuki says with a hint of curiosity, and a touch of worry as he notices how your back was turned away from him.

without a word, you feel the heat of his body as he presses himself against your back, his strong hands settling on your waist. he presses his lips to the side of your neck, warm and soft against your skin. it starts off slow and gentle at first, but there’s an underlying urgency to it, a need for your attention.

"i'm sorry, baby," he murmurs between kisses. "i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, alright?"

"katsuki," you scold as he apologizes, your breath hitches when he places a particularly slow kiss on your collarbone, warmth from his affection still lingering in your chest.

"i’m sorry… but i don’t regret saying any of it. you’re my wife, and i’m fuckin' proud of it. i'm the one who gets to love you like this. i'm the one who gets to fuck you so hard you see stars."

katsuki doesn't stop kissing you, his kisses growing more insistent, but you don’t let him off the hook so easily. you finally turn around, gently pushing him back, even as your heart races.

"i just can't believe you said all that. on live tv," it’s clear you’re not mad, unsure of how to handle this side of him— this soft, unfiltered honesty as his lips trail down your neck to your shoulder.

his fiery gaze softens just a little, and then presses another kiss to your lips, this one slower, deeper, as if to reassure you. "i know, baby, i'm sorry. just… don’t ignore me, okay? it hurts."

"you’re unbelievable," your voice holds more affection than you’d like to admit. "you just gonna let millions of people know how much stamina you have, huh? bet they all think you're some kind of—"

sex god. but before you can say it, katsuki presses a firm kiss to your lips, cutting off your words, his hands slipping around your back to pull you in even closer. he doesn’t let you retreat this time, his lips working their magic on you, unable to ignore the way your body betrays you.

"don't fuckin' care. you're still my wife, sweets. you’re the only one who matters to me. maybe i just need to show you how much i love you. properly."

you scold him with a half-hearted shove, but there's no real heat behind it. "you really know how to make a woman want to kill you and kiss you at the same time, don’t you?"

as he pulls away just enough to look you in the eye, feeling the heat of his gaze. you can’t deny the way his words, his kisses, have melted the tension between you. "you know you're the only one for me, sweets. always."

"i know. but you’re still crazy for doing that."

he chuckles, pulling you close, burying his face in your hair. "yeah, well… crazy’s what you get when you’ve got an amazin' fuckin' wife like you."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ SHAMELESS KATSUKI ENJOYER NUMBER TWO OMGOMG

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