ISABELLE

𑣲 comforting victor wembanyama after a hard loss.

based on one of my bf victor headcanons listed here 😋

victor’s clothes are damp with sweat as his heartbeat shifts from fast to slow, like it’s still trying to figure out which rhythm to take on.

the locker room is empty except for him. no trainers checking on players. no coaches spouting affirmations and platitudes. nothing. just him and his thoughts that keep drifting back to that last play he made like a magnet.

it was dumb. they had a real chance to win, and he blew it.

he buries his head further into his hands, trying to smear the image of his teammates’ disappointed faces. the fans' faces.

suddenly, the room feels suffocating, like the walls are closing in on him. it’s all too much, and without thinking, he does the one thing he knows will comfort him.

he calls you.

he doesn’t have to look far through his phone to find your contact. you are always at the top. favorited.

one ring.

two rings.

he grips the phone harder.

please pick up.

“vic?” he exhales a breath of relief at your soft voice, the sound acting as water to the fire within him.

he closes his eyes and leans against the phone, pretending that you’re right there next to him.

“vic… are you there?”

“..i’m here,” he breaths out.

the faint ruffling of covers sounds through the phone.

“did i wake you?”

“no. i was having trouble sleeping anyway.”

he nods even though you can’t see him. he leans back in his chair, taking a deep breath.

“how was your day?” he asks.

he hears a click on your end, like you turned on a lamp.

“it was.. okay. pretty boring. i woke up, ate, worked out—oh, and i went to the bookstore.”

victor’s lips turn up. “oh really? what’d you get?”

“just that book series you were saying i should read. what’s it called again? nightmist—”

“mistborn,” he corrects, smiling to himself.

“yeah, that one.”

through the phone, he can hear you feel around for something on your nightstand.

“i got to say, the cover looks really good.”

he crosses his arms. “how many times have i told you that a book’s cover does not translate to how good it’ll be?”

a sigh. “way too many for me to count.”

he hums in agreement. “and you never listen.”

a laugh escapes your throat despite yourself. “i can’t help it, okay! i love pretty things.”

he smiles, and for a second, he allows himself to picture it: him, back at your place. your bodies tangled up together in bed as you talked about sweet nothings.

from afar, the scene looks cinematic, almost poetic. just two lovers across the country connected by a single cellular line.

there’s a pause on victor’s end as he remembers why he called you in the first place. he sighs and moves his phone against his other ear.

“..did you see it?” he asks, pained. the question he’s been dreading all night.

“yeah…” then, quieter. “yeah, i did.”

he inhales a deep breath as his eyes flutter close. “wha-what did you think?” he stutters, a part of him afraid of the answer.

“i think… that you played a good game,” you admit.

he shakes his head. “but, i lost us the game. d-did you see those last few plays? i blew it.”

“i did see them, but it was an honest mistake. you can’t beat yourself up over that.”

victor pulls his lips into a thin line. he doesn’t know how to say that he’s been beating himself up since before he even stepped foot on the court tonight. how the countless doubts from others, the comments like “you’re too young", “lights are too bright”, and so on, subtly got to him. he prides himself on being able to mentally isolate himself from negative opinions, but when he messes up a game like this, he starts to wonder if he’s in over his head.

“hey, did i lose you over there?”

victor’s head is hanging between his legs. “..no. i’m still here,” he says, voice sounding fragile.

“okay.”

he pulls his body up and looks around him in the locker room, eyes glossing over at the sight of his teammates' hung-up jerseys. “i let them down, baby…” he says quietly, like he still can’t believe it.

“vic.. you didn’t let anyone down. you helped to get the game tied. do you remember how you guys were down before?”

“yeah.”

“and you guys came back. had it within winnable distance in the last quarter. you helped make that possible, vic.”

he bites his lip, taking in your words. what you said should’ve relieved him, but instead it made his heart constrict because he was almost there. he almost won. but he didn’t because he made a fatal mistake when it mattered most.

what if he did it again next game?

victor runs his hand down his face. his voice comes out laced with sorrow and fear. “i don’t know if i can do this, baby…”

“you can,” you assert.

another pause. longer this time.

“i believe in you, vic. even when you don’t.”

victor’s shoulders relax at that, like your words allowed the doubt that had been growing inside him to loosen up a bit.

he looks to his left at the board hanging up on the locker room’s wall.

spurs’ travel schedule.

he swallows hard. “i’m flying to new york tomorrow, and…” his hold on his phone tightens. “i’d really make me feel better if you were there,” he lets out.

your response is quick. “of course, vic. i’ll be there.”

and for the first time tonight, he feels hopeful.

the jigsaw puzzle lay forgotten on the coffee table as you land a kiss on victor’s nose. then another one on his cheek.

then another.

“i. can’t. breathe.” victor manages to get out between kisses.

you shift your weight on his lap, kissing another spot on his face. “breathing is overrated.”

his hands rub soothing circles on your waist as you feel rather than hear him chuckle.

“…mon amour.”

you pull away from his face for a second. “hm?”

“why do you keep doing that?” he asks, and there’s no annoyance in his tone, just gentle curiosity.

you pause, as if pretending to consider it. “maybe i just think you’re pretty.” then, softer. “can’t hold myself back.”

he freezes, like his brain has lost its train of thought.

“you—” he starts, then stops. blinks. then tries again. “you think i’m.. pretty?”

you nod like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

his gaze drops from your face to how your body rests on top of his, and then back up to you, like he can’t believe you’re real.

“god, y/n…” he breathes out, tracing your jawline with his fingers. “you’re going to be the death of me.”

you tilt your head to the side, smiling. “oh, yeah? well, seems like you’re stuck with me, then.”

victor grins, and you feel your heart stop.

because that’s when you see them.

dimples.

you groan softly. “you seriously have no idea how perfect you are.”

victor’s smile doesn’t fall, but you notice how his eyes slightly narrow at your statement—like he doesn’t fully believe you.

a minute passes before you sigh and say, “looks like i’m just going to have to show you then.”

without warning, you close the distance between you two, connecting your lips.

and this time, victor doesn’t stop you.

yesss!! i try to steer away from being too descriptive of readers features, i will sometimes write those things bc i have darker skin and my face still turns red but im never writing anything about pink cheeks or anything of the sorts bc i dont have a specific look of the reader in mind unless specified!!

also sometimes ill write something about reader having their hair pulled bc i am into that lmfao, but i just imagine having a silk press or braids or smthn lol i cant help myself at times. & for the post part im not writing about anyone running fingers through hair bc ur not getting through this thick 4a hair sawry.

SOFA JOY ⟢ victor wembanyama .ᐟ

request ౨ৎ "do u do smau? please do one with Wemby where he and the reader get spotted by paparazzi and then they hard launch their relationship 😛" + "can we have wemby angst to fluff where famous!reader constantly gets compared to victors rumored flings and it causes them to have problems in their own relationship bc she doubts herself?"

content ⟢ fluff to angst in this one, heavy use of y/n! wemby is kinda a bad bf, social media heavy (instagram, twitter, imessage) fake ex/rumored flings, reader is described as “short” once but literally everyone is shorter than wemby

serenity says ໒꒱ this was sooo hard lmfao pls if you have any suggestions on how to improve on these lmk. also the “ex” mentioned in this smau is not real!! wemby could have a whole wife and i wouldn’t even know ngl… anyways, faceclaim is renée downer, apart of the girl group FLO 🤭 lmk if y'all want part 2!

𑣲 bf!victor wembanyama headcannons

bf!victor wembanyama who kisses you in the hallway after a game, lips lingering a bit too long. you both would giggle between kisses when one of his teammates tells you two to get a room.

bf!victor wembanyama who loves to share his favorite books with you. after he reads something he enjoyed, you’re always the first person he wants to talk to about it. it could be one o’clock at night, and he would be talking your ear off about the book’s plot. you’d lazily nod, trying to keep your eyelids open, but you’d eventually get too tired to pretend and fall asleep. victor would look at you and blush, realizing he rambled too much.

bf!victor wembanyama who hates saying goodbye when he has to travel for an away game. the night before, he would stay in your arms a little bit longer. when you’d tell him he has to go to bed or he’ll be late to his flight in the morning, he would just nuzzle deeper into your chest and murmur, “five more minutes.”

bf!victor wembanyama who takes your book recommendations very seriously. he would read your recommended books in the locker room before a game, saying it makes him feel closer to you when he’s away.

bf!victor wembanyama who has everything mega-sized. you quickly realize that dating victor means seeing normal-sized items in enormous size. like, shoes? you never knew shoes could be so big before victor. one day, when you guys were getting ready to head out, you watched victor slide his feet into a pair of his shoes, and you jokingly said, “vic, your shoes can literally house a family of three.”

bf!victor wembanyama who makes it his mission to teach you how to play sports. victor has always been athletically inclined. basketball, football, soccer—he was always trying to expand his athletic range and test the limits of what he’s capable of. naturally, being his girlfriend, he ropes you into that goal. if you’d say no, he’d look at you with the cutest puppy dog eyes and beg you to change your mind. to which, you do because who could resist those eyes?

bf!victor wembanyama who calls you after losing a big game. your heart would break hearing his pained voice as he’d blame himself and say that he let his team down.

bf!victor wembanyama who loves to teach you his native language. he would leave french sticky notes on the refrigerator with a new word every day. he’d smile brightly when you’d recite the words to him at the end of the week and reward you with a kiss. “you’ll be fluent in no time,” he’d encourage.

bf!victor wembanyama who loves to come up behind you and wrap his arms around you. whether you’re in the kitchen cooking, reading a book, or in an elevator, his arms will be fastened around your waist. he claims that you fit perfectly in his arms.

bf!victor wembanyama who wants to show you the world. you want to go to Italy? say no more. he’d book a plane ticket faster than you could blink. done. first class. he’d say, “there’s no better way I can imagine spending my money.”

bf!victor wembanyama who takes pictures and records everything whenever you guys travel together. you’d find the focus he puts into recording the scenery adorable. the tiny phone in his colossal hand never failed to make you laugh.

bf!victor wembanyama who loves to celebrate his accomplishments with you. after winning a game or finishing a long novel, he always felt better knowing you were there with him.

bf!victor wembanyama who sometimes misses your birthday and holidays because of away games. he’d feel terrible and always make it up to you when he could by taking you out to dinner or surprising you with a handmade gift.

bf!victor wembanyama who always shows you he's paying attention to you, especially in crowded areas. with his height, voices can get droned out, so he’d lean his body down to hear you better. sometimes, his arm would hover over your waist and you’d get tongue-tied at how close he is. no matter how long you two have been dating, you’d always get flustered when he was close to you.

BAD TRAINING;

⤷ ゛masterlist ˎˊ˗

jobe bellingham x f!reader.

dating.

note: thanks for ur req!!

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: he has a bad training session and you console him.

| bishop x f!reader | notes: pre-rue | warnings: gun mention, smoke mention, Alamo overall, snakes, club atmosphere, prostitution, etc. | mdni18+ | wc: 2k |

.𓈒𓂂𓏲܀.𓈒𓂂𓏲܀.𓈒𓂂𓏲܀.𓈒𓂂𓏲܀.𓈒𓂂𓏲܀.𓈒𓂂𓏲܀.𓈒𓂂𓏲܀.𓈒𓂂𓏲܀.𓈒𓂂𓏲܀.𓈒𓂂𓏲܀.𓈒𓂂𓏲

Bishop remembered the first time you came in. And it’s because he wasn’t there.

A week before you started to work in Silver Slippers, Bishop had gotten the flu. A little bit embarrassing for a independent man in his 30s to be asked to stay home because of his sickness. It drove Bishop insane, as a henchman it was his job to be there for Alamo 24/7 in all his lines of work, especially for the type of work line Alamo was in.

‧˚꒰🧁୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ stephon castle’s prissy!reader girlfriend

sits court side at every game. goes viral just for being pretty. high maintenance asf. known as “princess of the castle”. super spoiled. video vixen. your fav rapper definitely knows who she is. has her own makeup line. has the girliest instagram feed. looks intimidating but she’s sweet.

you knew it was probably wrong, you shouldn’t have followed him into the silver slipper bathroom. the club was packed, alamo already had a stick up his ass and bishop was kind of like your boss but god; he felt so good inside of you. balls deep, hands grabbing your hips as you watched in the reflection of the mirror in front of you.

it had started off as glances here and there, you would look up from behind the bar and catch him staring at you, then you’d try and make some conversation with him; his voice monotone but he holds the conversation. then while handing him a drink you made him your hands touch, and linger for a second too long.

even though it was 3am and last call was an hour ago, drinks kept pouring, music blasting as the girls danced on stage; money flying. it was the friday nights like these at the club you could make half your rent in one night making drinks. it should’ve been over and patrons should’ve gone home along time ago but everyone was having too much fun to notice and alamo was making too much money to care.

“don’t make it obvious but, your stalkers looking.” your co worker giggled, as she cracked open a few beers. “he’s not my stalker-here you go.” you smile and hand the older man his jack and coke, thanking him as he threw a 10 in your tip jar. as he leaves you can get a good look at bishop; sitting at the round table with his colleagues, his button up freshly steamed it seems and a tie with a nice pattern sitting nicely on his chest.

he is looking at you and you take a second to look back, offering a small smile and he nods to you.

“whatever you say honey.” she chuckles. you two work in rhythm for a bit longer and you occasionally glance to bishop. on your last glance he gets up, maintaining eye contact so hard you’re sure he’s gonna come over and talk to you but inside he heads towards the bathrooms, eyes locked with yours the whole time; he stops at the family style bathroom, nodding at you before opening the door and slipping in.

“hey, I’ll be right back. I think I ate something bad.” you tell your co worker; grabbing your tip jar and tucking it under the bar, unsure how long you’ll be gone or if it even meant anything at all. without waiting for a response you set off, butterflies erupting in your tummy, heart pounding. as you approach the door you see its green, unlocked.

surely he wouldn’t leave it unlocked if he hadn’t wanted you to come in, but still you knock softly just in case. the door opens, bishop standing inside; he steps back, allowing space for you to come inside. you feel a lot of things at once, fear that alamo will be mad you abandoned the bar, nervous about what’s possibly happening with bishop but a bit excited for what could come. what you don’t expect is the awkwardness you feel as he turns to face you, he doesn’t saying anything he just looks at you for a minute.

he takes a few steps towards you, “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to come in or not.” you’re quick to confess, nervous under his gaze. he tangles his hands in your curly hair from the root by the back of your neck. “i don’t think you know how bad I want you.” his turn to confess as he pulls your bodies closer; he smells so good like expensive cologne. you stare up at him as he towers over you, and you close your eyes as his leans down. you stand on your tippy toes to try and meet him halfway.

it’s soft kisses at first, a few pecks but it steadily turns into tongue kissing, lip sucking as his other hand reaches down to grab a handful of your ass and your arms wrap around his neck. your tongues are sticking out of your mouths, swirling around each others before you close our mouths around each other; almost like your trying to swallow each other whole. you latch onto his bottom lip, biting it and pulling it towards you before letting go.

you stare into his eyes for a second, feeling his dick hardening against your tummy through this pants. you allow one of your hands to slide down his chest before grabbing his dick. his face still looks the same as always and his voice still monotone as he tells you, “get on your knees.” but something about him as you dripping in your panties.

you fall to your knees in front of him and he looks down at you while unbuckling his belt; he doesn’t take it off and he pulls his pants and boxers down to his knees.

you can’t help but gasp as you look up at him; it’s intimidatingly big, so heavy even though he’s fully hard it’s weighing itself down; so long even though he’s a foot away it’s practically in your face.

“can you handle it?” he asks making a mischievous smile appear on your face snapping you back. you grab him by the tip, holding the weight of it up as you lick from his balls, to the base, all the way to the tippy top before popping the tip between your plump lips. the sounds are vulgar as you take more of him into your mouth, using your two hands to help jerk off what you can’t find in your mouth. “just like that.” he breaths, his voice almost has a pitch to it, encouraging you to keep going. you try and take more of him down your throat, gagging as drool begins to from on your lip. he grabs your head, holding you still as he softly thrusts the inches of him that you’ve already proven you can take down your throat. drool drips down your chin as he fucks your mouth; pulling pack and letting go when you gag a bit too loud. still, you don’t let it discourage you as you wrap your hands back around and keep sucking. he lets out a quiet groan accompanied with a fuck as he steps back, pulling his dick away from you.

“what’s wrong? is it not good?” you pout, wiping your lips with your wrist. “I don’t want to nut yet.” he simply states before helping you off your knees. you gasp as he picks you up and places you on the sink, feeling his wet dick on your inner thigh. he leans forward, kissing you as he reaches under your black mini skirt, pulling your panties off; placing them on the faucet behind you.

“I bet you taste like candy.” he says before leaning down, scooting your butt towards the end of the sink as you lean back against the mirror. your legs spreads as he head falls between them, you feel and hear him take a deep inhale; smelling your wet pussy before humming in approval. he kisses your wet inner thighs, before kissing all around your pussy then finally, licking a stripe up your slit. you moan as his tongue dances on your clit, hands gripping the sink for stability. your cry out as he latches onto your clit, sucking it like a lollipop. “fuck, bishop baby you’re making me feel so fucking good.” you cry as your thighs close around his head; caging him in, “don’t stop baby you’re gonna make me cum.” you can see his arm moving up and down, to jerk himself off and his face is concentrated as he tongue fucks you. “oh my god.” you cry as you cum all over his face, orgasming harder than you’re sure you ever have before, legs shaking and sore.

you feel tired for a moment, almost wanting to tap out as he licks you clean but when he stands up and you see his beard covered in you, his dick harder than before it wakes something up in you. grabbing him by his tie you pull him in close, kissing him, tonguing each other as you taste yourselves on one another. you guys pull apart when you both feel his dick twitch against you, you look up into his eyes and maintain eye contact as you grab his cock, pulling it towards your warm, wet pussy that’s begging for him. you both break eye contact and gasp as the tip slips in, both looking down at where you two now connect. he slowly slips it in, inch by inch; making you feel the whole thing.

his head tucks into your neck as you two hold each other for a second, letting you get used to him. “I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you.” he whispers, biting your ear lobe before slowly staring to thrust into you. “shit baby.” you whine, feeling him deep in you. his thrust gradually speed up before he’s marking his words, pounding into so hard you’re sure you’ll break the sink, you moans and cries drowned out by the music and his soft grunts drowned out by you. “you’re so big, baby, fuck, harder.” you cry lifting up your shirt above your chest and pulling your bra down enough to let your tits out, which bishop immediately latches onto, sucking your tits and fucking you like his life depended on it. you throw your head back, hitting it against the mirror as you spread your legs more to give him more room; desperate for every inch he has to offer.

your hands grip his hair as you watch him lick your right nipple before moving to the left one, sucking it into his mouth. you cry and beg as he detaches from your nipple and slowly pulls out, “please baby.” you cry; attempting to reach from his wet dick to stuff it back inside of your before he grabs your hips, “c’mere.” he pulls you off the sink, roughly turning you around and bending you over. he uses his knee to push your legs apart before smacking your ass, watching it jiggle as your skirt bunches around your waist. he spreads your ass cheeks apart, effectively giving him the perfect view of everything, fat ass on display, pretty untouched asshole, wet dripping pussy. you look at his face in the mirror; he’s so focused on your pussy and ass he doesn’t even notice you looking at him.

you gasp as you watch him spit, feeling it land on your asshole and dripping all the way down to your needy hole. you reach under you, trying to grab him to put inside you but in return you get bishop grabbing both of you wrist and holding them behind your back. “you gotta behave.” is all he says, before grabbing himself and sliding inside of you. your eyes roll back at this new angle, you can feel him even deeper than before. his hand that’s not restraining you grabbing your hip for support as he pounds into you.

“are you gonna be good if I let your hands go?” he teases, looking at your puffy face in the mirror. “yes, baby I promise I’ll be good.” you moan. he lets go and you immediately grab onto the sides of the sink; needing extra support. both of his hands are now on your hips using them to help bounce you on him. “pussy so tight.” he grunts, sweat beading at his forehead. “c’mere, lemme see.” he places one hand in your hair and the other on your neck, pulling you up so your backs on his chest. you moan as he softly chokes you, shaking your head a bit as he pulls your hair before letting go of it, you watch in the mirror as he licks his finger, bringing it down to your left nipple, rubbing circles on it.

“play with yourself.” he demands, his hand holding your throat a bit tighter, still fondling your your tits. you lick two of your fingers before reaching between your legs, playing with you pussy for him, your other hand reaching and grabbing the back of his head, and turning your head, touching your foreheads together. you peck his lips before getting one in return; your sweet, soft kisses not matching the raunchy acts you guys are doing in your works bathroom.

“I’m gonna cum, baby.” you warn, as he pinches your nipple. “i am too, baby.” although you had been calling him baby all night, hearing it from his mouth sounded surreal. you feel it in the pit of you belly, “don’t stop, oh my god, I’m gonna cum again.” you throw your head back and let go. a loud moan erupting from your chest as wetness drips down your legs. “I’m gonna bust.” he groans, helping you ride out your high. you both moan, staring into each others eyes as you feel it his hot sticky honey filling you up, threatening to spill down your leg before he can even pull out. you both stand there for a minute, the only movement is him softly rubbing your nipple.

“that was the best ever.” you sigh; not wanting him out of you ever again. “we can do it again, whenever you’d like.” he offers, trying to slid out of you but your hips follow his dick that’s softening inside of you. “gotta let me out, sweetheart. you gotta finish closing.” he says, snapping you back to reality. shit, how long had you been gone for.

reluctantly you let him slide out, even though you’re empty you can still feel him inside you. you turn to face him as he’s pulling his pants up, you reach up, and he swears he’s never seen you more beautiful before as he looks at you. swollen lips, tired eyes, red cheeks, messy curls everywhere as you lean up to kiss him. his hands come down, rubbing and squeezing your bare ass, “wanna spend the night at my house?” he offers, making you smile and nod, putting your face in his neck; inhaling his scent like a dog who missed their owner. he pulls your bra up and shirt down before backing away from you for a second to grab some toilet paper, cleaning the cum that had dripped down your leg, and wiping your pussy off, making you whine due to being so sensitive.

“I’ll find you after closing and you can ride with me.” he plans, giving your ass a final pat before pulling your skirt down. “do you think anyone noticed we were gone?” you play with your hair in an attempt to fix it. “yes but they won’t care.” he simply states, “alamo won’t be mad I was gone for so long?” you worry, he had already chewed you out for being late last weekend. “don’t worry about him, okay?” he leans down; pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

when you both emerge from the bathroom, it was apparent the party was dying, about 15 patrons remained and two girls were left on the stage. you locked eyes with alamo and the other men at his table for a second smug looks on all their faces.

“pay them no mind, I’ll see you after your shift.” bishop reassures, nodding for you to go to the bar.

you both go your separate ways and you’re greeted with another annoyingly smug face; your co worker. “have fun?” she giggles. “whatever.” you shake your head, trying to hide your smile.

𝘉𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘵𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘗𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦

Pairings: Fem!Reader x Victor Wembanyama

Summary: Wemby teaches you how to shoot a basketball.

Warnings: None except for my chopped writing, LOL.

Author's note: Ask and you shall receive. Again, thank you all for showing my first fic so much love <3. I feel so honored. Game 1 was AMAZING! I was so stressed at first because what do you mean we went into OT twice? Wemby hitting that deep three made my night. Game 2 today and it is my birthday?! I couldn’t imagine a better gift. Let me know if you would like a pt.2!

The sun’s warm rays heat up the basketball court as trees nearby dance in the chill summer breeze. The loud thud of the Spalding basketball hitting the pavement slices through the quiet morning air.

A few nights ago, you had jokingly asked Victor to teach you how to shoot a basketball. You both were on his couch at his place watching a recap of his previous game, and a particular shot of his caught your attention.

Your eyes widened, and you turned to face Victor. “Vic, how did you get so good at shooting?”

Victor tore his gaze away from the TV, shifting his weight on the couch to look at you. “I practiced every day. It took time and discipline, but I got there.”

A moment passed.

“Can you teach me?”

Those four words are why you find yourself standing on top of the white-coated foul line at eight a.m. on a Saturday. Victor slowly comes up behind you, his height shielding you from the sun. You bite the inside of your cheek at the feel of his body pressed up against you.

“The key to scoring here is to not use too much force. If you use too much, the ball is going to hit the rim.” You nod, trying to ignore the heat of his breath caressing your neck.

“Bring the ball close to your core. Bend your knees, then lift your body and arms up. Now shoot.” Victor’s hand clouds yours over the ball as he guides you through each of his instructions. His hands make the ball feel smaller. As he guides your arms up, his chest presses deeper into your back.

“You got it?”

You swallow. “Yeah.”

Victor leans his head down from behind you, his soft curls tickling your temple, and places a kiss against your cheek. “Now try it for me.”

He backs up to give you some space. The warmth of his lips lingers on your cheek, making your chest rise and fall faster than normal. You stare blankly at the basketball goal in front of you. It was just a kiss on the cheek, but your head is spinning so fast you can barely remember why you're even out here.

The sound of Victor’s voice shakes you from your stupor. “You ready?”

“Mhm,” you barely manage to say, shifting your focus to the weight of the ball and how the ridges feel in your palm.

You dribble once. Twice. Then repeat what you could remember from Victor’s previous instructions.

You lower your knees, raise the ball up, and release it with a flick of your wrists. The ball slices through the air and lands with a harsh thud on the rim.

The sound scares away nearby birds. You wince.

Victor catches the rebound and walks over to you.

“Nice try, mon chéri. I have missed countless shots. It's a part of the learning process. Do you want to try again?" Victor asks, looking down at you with warm, reassuring eyes.

You nod.

Victor smiles, handing you the ball. "Okay. Make sure to put your knees into it.”

“I am putting my knees into it,” you bite back, dribbling the ball once, then getting into proper shooting form.

“Good. Now raise your arms and shoot. Flick your wrist when letting go—and jump if you need to.”

Taking in all of the information, you let the ball fly from your hands, jumping a bit to help with acceleration. The ball soars through the sky like a rainbow’s arch. Your heart skips a beat in anticipation.

The ball meets the net with a clean swish.

You hear Victor let out a loud cheer beside you. You take a step back, letting out a breath of disbelief. “D-did you see that?! I did it!”

You turn to Victor, who has a wide smile stretched across his face, displaying his dimples.

“Yeah, I did! See, I knew you could do it. Next time, I’ll teach you how to shoot from behind the three-point line.” Your eyebrows shot up.

Victor chuckled at the face you made. “I’m kidding—maybe…”

“Maybe?!”

Victor grins. He walks closer to you, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. You look up at him, warmth forming inside you at the softness in his gaze. “I’m proud of you.”

Your lips turn up. “Oh yeah? Why don’t you show me?” You hold your chin up, signaling for a kiss. Victor shakes his head, letting out a soft laugh. You hear him mutter something under his breath before he plants his lips on yours, closing the distance between you two.

Your hands find the back of his head, playing with the short curly strands. His lips are soft against yours as he kisses you slowly, letting his hands trail down the curve of your body. You lean into his touch, feeling a fire ignite beneath your skin.

Wemby tilts his head a bit, deepening the kiss. You exhale a breath at the new angle. Victor absorbs the sigh as he presses another kiss against your mouth. The kiss started off gently, but quickly became desperate, like he couldn't get enough of you. The shift sent a shiver down your spine.

Eventually, Victor slows the pace, his kisses becoming shorter and shorter. He brushes his lips against yours and stays there for a while, as if he can't bring himself to pull away entirely. The desperation fades, leaving only a quiet need to stay close to you. You open your eyes to Victor’s. His gaze is heavy with longing and vulnerability, and he lets out a breathless, flushed laugh.

| bishop x f!reader | notes: I’ve never seen From Dusk Till Dawn so do what you will with that, highly inspired by the wardrobe of Salma Hayek and the backstory of the python of episode 6! | warnings: not proofread, this is set pre-rue, reader is a stripper, reader is nicknamed ‘Lola Bunny’, Alamo overall, strip club atmosphere, snakes, guns, no smut..for now.., Bishop and his lurking, tension, Bishop’s acts of kindness, etc. | mdni18+ | wc: 2k |

.𓈒𓂂𓏲܀.𓈒𓂂𓏲܀.𓈒𓂂𓏲܀.𓈒𓂂𓏲܀.𓈒𓂂𓏲܀.𓈒𓂂𓏲܀.𓈒𓂂𓏲܀.𓈒𓂂𓏲܀.𓈒𓂂𓏲܀.𓈒𓂂𓏲܀.𓈒𓂂𓏲

You had been working at Silver Slippers for three months after being hired by Alamo Brown. Funny meetup the two of you, he had seen you in another strip club and saw how depressed you looked giving a lap dance. When he walked up to you, all he mentioned was a way better salary, an apartment complex and most importantly getting you the fuck out of this place.

You walked out of that lap dance and left with Alamo that night.

Jared’s room was always cold. You always had to cling to him to get some warmth.

He was a human heater. That’s why you constantly clung to him in consciousness and unconsciousness. But now, you’re awake, sweaty, and slightly suffocating due to the large boy laying on top of you. You blinked hard a few times, groaning softly at how hard it is to breathe pressing a palm against his chest whining a little.

“J, baby, get off of me. I can’t breathe.” 

Jared grumbled something as he nuzzled his face into your cheek making you cringe away, feeling his lips press against your cheek his eyes still closed. He said something, but you couldn’t understand him, all you can focus on is how your hair stuck to your sweaty forehead.

“Jared. You’re too hot, please.”

“I like being like this.” He whispered lifting his head to press his lips to your flushed cheek, you scrunched your face up groaning softly. “What time is it?” He mumbled rolling off of you, finally letting you breathe but he still tangled one of his leg with yours his eyes shutting slowly. 

“I think 5 AM.” You whispered letting your hand rest on his thigh, you were already getting cold without him close. He hummed in acknowledgment, his large hand resting on top of yours sighing deeply through his nose. Your eyes were closed but you could tell his were open, you could always just feel when he was awake. 

You were almost sure Jared was your soulmate.

You two have always been connected on a deeper level. A spiritual one you couldn’t explain. You knew everything about Jared and he knew everything about you, he knew every inch of your soul and you knew every inch of his. It was gross and cliche, but it was the truth. Even if you weren’t near him you knew what he was feeling whether it be happy or sad, you knew, you felt everything he felt. 

“Go back to sleep, baby.” You mumble rubbing the inside of his thigh, hearing him grumble something as he wrapped his hand around your forearm stroking your arm slowly.

“You woke me up.” He whispered leaning in to press his lips against your sweaty forehead, humming softly as you squeezed his thigh with a quiet sigh. “I love your face.” He ran a finger down the bridge of your nose, resting the digit on the seam of your lips making your heart race a little. 

“You can’t even see it.” You whispered turning on your side to face him. Finally opening your eyes to rest on his graceful features, a smile forming on your lips the moment your eyes connect with his.  “It’s printed on the back of my eyelids at this point” he said, smiling as you saw his eyes turn inward in the dark room. You loved his eyes. You loved them so much. They read of love and dumb jokes, you saw your future in his eyes, and the visions of your future usually had Jared in them. Your favorite vision was the one where you held on to a little boy’s hand, he has your lips and Jared’s eyes, and your stomach was swelling with new life while his hand skimmed over your stomach trying to feel the life inside you kicking.

God, you wanted that vision to be reality so bad.

You scooted over into his arms, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head once again slowly pressing his palm against your stomach. You blinked a few times, looking down at his palm rub slowly circles on your covered stomach before slipping his warm hand under your shirt to draw gentle circles on the warm skin.

“Wanna put a baby in there.” He whispered into your slightly damp hair. Your breath caught in your throat, looking over at him with a small shy laugh leaving your lips.

“You say that every time you wanna fuck me.” You giggled looking down at his hand, your fingers gently wrap around his forearm as you use your other hand to lift your tank top to watch his fingers begin to draw triangles on your stomach.

“You’d look so pretty carrying my baby.” You blushed softly rubbing your eyes a little, feeling his lips press against your shoulder. 

“Our baby would be so cute. They’d have your eyes––”

“Your eyes. I want them to have your eyes.” You quickly corrected turning to face him with a small swallow, watching his lips quirk up a little at your interjection.

“My eyes? You sure?”

“Yeah, you got some pretty ones I fear.” You told him honestly with a quick nod, feeling his hand press a little harder against your stomach. He pressed his forehead against yours, your eyes fell onto his pouty lips humming softly. 

“How about this,” he shifts a little bit to nuzzle his nose against yours, “my eyes, your nose, and your lips.” You watched his lips, hanging onto every word that left his mouth a soft smile looking into his eyes.

“I love that.” You pressed your palm to his cheek, pressing the softest kiss to his slightly chapped lips, “I love you.” You kissed him again feeling him wrap arms around your torso to keep you close with a soft hum into your mouth. He slowly rolled on top of you, making himself at home between your legs pressing his chest to yours before pulling away with a soft smack. You giggled gently, turning your face away from him his hearing him laugh sweetly as he nosed your cheek smiling brightly down at you with a soft hum.

“I love you too, angel.” He whispered pressing his lips to your cheek firmly. You were getting hot again, but you didn’t care anymore. You could feel your heart pound against your chest, you were so in love with him, he always made you feel like you were weightless. He pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was messy, a little uncoordinated, but passionate none the less. You parted your lips for him without any coaxing, you opened yourself up to him with no hesitation, trusting him with every fiber of your being. You held tightly onto him, his nails digging into his back as he held onto your hips, pressing his hips into yours grunting gently into your mouth.

“Spread your legs, ma.”

You spread your legs without thought, your head falling to the side for him to kiss along your jawline making you sigh quietly tangling your hand into his curly hair. Jared shifted a little as he kissed down your neck, you pressed a hand against his chest gasping quietly when you felt his teeth dig into the crook of your neck. He chuckled softly against your skin, pulling back to look down at you with a deep breath.

You batted your lashes up at him as you took in his face, your hand traveling up his chest to rest on his cheek with a smile. He had the prettiest eyes you had ever seen, the softest lashes, and the brown hues held a place in your heart. 

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“That—That you wanted to put a baby in me?”

He smirked a little down at you, nuzzling his nose against yours making your cheeks heat up.

“You want that?” He questioned barely above a whisper, you held tightly onto his bicep as you blinked up to your boyfriend nodding slowly. 

“Say it.” Your stomach knotted up as his words went straight to your core. You held tightly onto him, your eyes scanned over his face for a moment before locking on your eyes on his lips.

“I want to you to put a baby in me—fill me up.” 

There’s a small pause. A wide smile forming on those perfect pink lips you adored.

“You overly freaked out and ready.” He said rolling his eyes. You laughed at that, he soon joined after ducking his head down into the crook of your neck still laughing with his whole body. You wrapped your arms around his neck taking in a deep breath

Nothings ever rushed with him when it comes to you. Never just fingers lacing together out of habit. Every time his hand finds yours, there’s intention behind it, a quiet, knowing sort of care that makes even the smallest touch feel like it matters. His thumb brushes over your knuckles first, slow, like he’s reacquainting himself with you, even if he’s held your hand a hundred times that day.

And then, without fail, he lifts it. It's not in a showy way, and never something meant for anyone else to notice. He brings your hand up between you, tilts his head slightly, and presses a kiss to your skin like it’s second nature. Sometimes it’s your knuckles, sometimes the back of your hand, sometimes right over your pulse where your wrist bends soft.

The warmth of his lips, the quiet exhale of his breath against your skin, the way his fingers tighten just a little as if he doesn’t want to let go just yet. It’s gentle, but it lingers, like he’s savoring it.

If you tease him about it, he just smiles, a little flustered, a little soft. “What?” he says, like he doesn’t see anything unusual about it. Like of course he’s going to kiss your hand. Like of course you deserve that kind of attention. But it’s the way he does it when you’re not expecting it that gets you.

pairing: major john egan x amelia mae

content: John is prepared to show Amelia that he is committed to her and only her. part two to sad girl. 18+ steam.

an: thoughts on MOTA pt. 7? again, thank you @turn-thy-paige for the letter-writing ideas.

tags: to maintain your place on the taglist, you're expected to interact! @turn-thy-paige @neeville @ineedafictionalman @ihe4rtisa @lovebyceleste

𝑪𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒚 𝑺𝒆𝒙𝒚 🍒

Synopsis ⋆˚ : He’s infatuated with you after crashing into you while you sat courtside.

Pairing ⋆˚࿔ : Famous!reader x Nba player Warnings ⋆˚࿔ : High-key pathetic behavior, masturbation (m), stalking reader’s ig. Word Count ⋆˚࿔ : 1.3k

Authors Note ⋆˚࿔ :

I decided to make this any player cause I couldn’t decide on who, nonetheless I hope you guys enjoy as always. Dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/dividers-are-us

PLAYERS POV

God, this is so stupid. I know it is. I know the way my thoughts keep circling back to you isn’t cordial, isn’t normal, and probably borderline pathetic. I’m fully aware of how ridiculous this is, which somehow makes it worse that I can’t stop.

based off a req so thank u for the idea n i hope u see this anon (idk why i didn't wait to make it b4 replying ugh sorry!!) but ily for this <3 this was harddd but i tried!! i love fluffy cute slice of life ehehe i love finn ohmygod

˖ ࣪ ⊹ the engagement & wedding

the public doesn't have the slightest clue you two are even engaged until he's on stage, holding his microphone with a ring-clad finger. when people point it out, he doesn't try and hide it. he just smiles, feeding into it as he plays the love song he allegedly wrote about you next.

he has a big role in the wedding planning. he's a director, and this is like directing in a way. he's constantly coming to you with ideas that he thinks you'll like, affirming your own ideas, and researching way more than he expected. he has never known more about cake flavors and fillings than he does now.

like, even if he hasn't a clue about what flowers to do for the tables or what font should be on the wedding invites, he looks into it in advance so that when you inevitably ask for his input he has an answer ready.

when wedding planning gets stressful, he reaches out to his married friends without you knowing to ask them if they could help. suddenly, you have maya and millie texting you to check in right when you're about to lose it.

you two would totally do a first look at each other in your outfits before the ceremony. when he turns around and sees you, his hands rush to your waist and he's complimenting every little detail in your look. the first words he utter are soft and giddy, "oh... oh wow. can you wear this, like, everyday? for the rest of our lives? no? are you sure? you look like an angel, though..." his angel.

he would wear his hair similar to how he always does because he wants to feel and look most like himself. ohmygod messy grown out curls finn i can't.

call me crazy... but i think he'd write a song to sing for you when you two are finally alone on your wedding day, likely in the evening when everyone has gone and you're back in your room. he has such a creative soul and you're his muse! he can't help it. even better, he slips in lines from his vows and it might as well be a love letter, it's so romantic. no one ever hears that song but you.

˖ ࣪ ⊹ married life

waking up next to him the first few times as husband and wife is engrained in your mind. he would wake up, limbs intertwined with yours, grinning as he'd murmur, "hi, my wife." if you don't give back the same energy, he pokes and prods until you do. he is loyal to the bit.

"hi, baby." — "are you sure there's nothing else you wanna call me?" — "oh, fine. hi, my husband." — he melts.

his idea of a perfect honeymoon is staying somewhere familiar, reserved, and full of character. honestly, though? he cares most about what you want. you two can travel wherever whenever, so if you want the complete opposite of what he does, he'a agreeing because the smile on your face is enough of a honeymoon. time spent with you is time well spent, in his eyes. though, he loves some of the canada views and wouldn't be mad if you two just hid in a cabin away from the world for a few weeks.

once you two go public, nothing changes. he talks about it in an interview when asked about his alleged marriage with you, immediately breaking into a cheeky grin and nodding with his chin in his hand — "...i am married now, yeah. well, i'm a lucky guy, what can i say?" it's sheepish, and he doesn't expand on it. not in the moment, at least. but people clip it and point out his stupidly lovesick smile and how he mentioned you more than usual. "yeah, i haven't been filming much lately other than this movie. i wanted to focus on personal stuff, like.. well, you know." he was busy marrying the love of his life.

you two wait for a month or two to pass before posting wedding photos, which were done by a mutual friend. it's a shared instagram post, the caption reading the date you two got married. people freak out, especially seeing all your friends that attended, followed by a photo of you two kissing under the altar on the last slide. it's the first public kiss you two have posted yourselves, all others being paparazzi photos. the attention you two get for posting them makes him, and you, giddy for the weeks to come.

he runs a strict program about you wearing your ring. if you take it off for any reason he's immediately questioning you, playfully, "hmm. are you missing something? your hand looks awfully empty. i feel like you're missing something." he doesn't actually get upset, but he loves to push your buttons.

finn feels he can (finally) get you more involved with some of his work like he's always wanted to. having you snuck into things he directs, dedicating songs to you, if not having you help him write and sing them — again, you're his muse. so now that the world knows, he jumps on any excuse to take advantage of it.

bonus points if you love acting, because oh my god, he incorporates you into everything. if he has a love interest in a show, you're booked immediately. the chemistry is there, you're perfect at everything you do, who could possibly beat that?

dates never die out. you two have so many movie nights, dinner dates, you go out to so many concerts.. his life is eventful, with how much he does. you can't remember the last time you've felt genuine boredom since you got with him, whether you're alone at home just talking and joking or out drinking with his friends.

ohmygod and when he drinks he's sooo about the married thing, asking — "have you seen her? who? my wife, obviously. who else, gaten? keep up." — mind you, you just went to the other side of the bar for five seconds. that, and he's openly clingy. hand on your knee, rubbing your thigh, cheek on your shoulder, moral of the story: he'll always have a hand on you.

when married, he puts a hold on a lot of things and puts you first. no filming, barely going to the studio, he can make up for it later when you're not so newlywed. being away from you feels like being torn from you — "baby, i just went to pick something up from the store." — "but you didn't tell me! come on, you know i would've gone. you should've told me." he scoffs.