#nba testing

[kyown]

Formula e in a few hours and then the Ostark NBA celebrity game later tonight– fuck Valentine’s Day men in sport is my true love rn

[muirneach]

the finals should be like all-stars in other sports and make them do races and tests and stuff

[reyryz]

3 kurokos :o

[gme-news]

Justin Brownlee BAN ba sa FIBA dahil dito | Paano na Gilas?

via IFTTT

[stoneyocean]

Join the wave Stoneyocean.com

[g4zdtechtv]

THE PILE PRESENTS: X-Play - Return of the Constipated Turtle | 10/12/04

Buckle your seat belts, 'cause this is gonna suck.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Scent of Trouble

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

POV: First Person

Tags: Fluff, Smut, Humor, Jealous!Paige

Summary: Prank Gone Wrong (or right?)

🏷️: @elalfywhore , @yailtsv , @starfulani , @sitawita , @paige05bby , @azziswrld , @vamptizm , @authentic-girl03

⸻

I was feeling particularly mischievous today. Paige had been glued to Fortnite for the past hour, her headset on, yelling callouts to KK, Jana, Azzi, and Ice like she was in the NBA Finals. She barely noticed when I walked in and kissed the top of her head, so naturally, I had to get her attention somehow.

And what better way than a little TikTok prank?

I set my phone up discreetly on the bookshelf, angling it just right to capture the entire scene. Then, I grabbed my Brazilian perfume—aka, the one that makes Paige go feral—and doused myself in it. Not too much, just enough that she’d pick up on it immediately.

I checked myself out in the mirror. My outfit was casual but cute—leggings that made my curves pop and a fitted top that Paige had claimed was her “weakness.” Satisfied with the setup, I hit record and walked back into the room where Paige was still deep into her game.

I leaned on the doorframe and cleared my throat dramatically. “Hey, babe, I’m about to go meet someone.”

Paige didn’t even look up. “Mhm, okay. Have fun,” she mumbled, focused on building some insane structure in the game.

I rolled my eyes. Not the dismissive response. That won’t do.

I stepped closer, making sure the scent of my perfume carried through the air. “I said, I’m about to go meet someone,” I repeated, a little louder this time.

That got her attention.

Paige’s head snapped toward me so fast I thought she might get whiplash. Her nose scrunched up before she fully processed what I said. Then, her eyes narrowed, scanning me from head to toe.

“Meet who?” she asked, her voice dropping an octave.

“Just someone,” I said with a teasing shrug.

Paige ripped her headset off and turned in her chair fully, her knee bouncing like she was preparing for battle.

Azzi’s voice crackled through her headset. “Paige? Hello? Are you leaving us mid-game?”

Paige ignored her. Instead, she folded her arms and stared at me like she was trying to read my mind. “Why do you smell like that?”

“Like what?” I asked, feigning innocence.

“You know what,” she shot back, standing up. “That’s the perfume. The one you wear when you wanna drive me crazy.”

I bit my lip, barely containing my laughter. “Oh, is it? I just thought it smelled nice.”

“Nah, don’t play with me.” Paige stepped closer, her blue eyes locked onto mine. “Who are you meeting?”

“Just a friend,” I said nonchalantly.

“A friend?” Paige echoed. “And you’re wearing that perfume for a friend?”

At this point, the rest of the team had picked up on the conversation.

“Yo, what’s going on?” KK’s voice came through the headset.

“Y/N’s testing my patience, that’s what,” Paige muttered.

Jana chuckled. “Ohhh, she’s playing with fire.”

Ice, ever the instigator, chimed in. “Nah, Paige, you better handle that.”

Paige shot a glare at the headset before turning her full attention back to me. “Tell me who you’re meeting,” she demanded.

I tilted my head, still playing along. “Babe, why are you so pressed?”

“Because you smell like that and you look like that and you’re talking about meeting someone,” she said, pointing at me. “That math ain’t mathing, ma.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing. “Are you jealous?”

Paige scoffed. “Jealous? No. I just—” She ran a hand through her hair, looking flustered. “I just need to know whose funeral I’m about to plan if they try something with you.”

That was it. I burst out laughing.

Paige’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, so this is funny to you?”

“A little,” I admitted, still giggling. “It’s a prank, baby.”

Paige blinked. “A what?”

I grabbed my phone from the bookshelf and showed her the recording. “A prank. The ‘I’m about to go meet someone while wearing Brazilian perfume’ TikTok trend.”

She watched the video play back, her jaw tightening. Then, before I could react, she snatched me up, wrapping her arms around my waist and pulling me flush against her.

“You think you’re so funny, huh?” Paige murmured, her lips brushing against my ear.

“A little,” I whispered, my heart hammering.

She exhaled, her grip tightening. “You know what’s not funny? How good you smell right now. And how you got me all worked up for nothing.”

“You’ll be okay,” I teased. “You were so mad—”

Before I could finish my sentence, Paige lifted me effortlessly and threw me onto the bed. I let out a yelp as she hovered over me, her hands caging me in.

"You're gonna pay for that little prank, ma," Paige murmured, her voice a low, husky rumble that sent shivers dancing down my spine. Her lips trailed down my neck, leaving a searing heat in their wake. I gasped, my hands instinctively reaching up to grip her shoulders.

"Paige—" I managed to whisper, my voice barely audible.

"You wanna play games? Bet. Now you gotta deal with the consequences." Her words were a promise, a delicious threat that made my pulse quicken. My phone was still recording, capturing every breath, every moan, every stolen kiss. I knew the video was going to be hilarious, a perfect snapshot of Paige's possessive jealousy. But right now, in this moment, Paige had all of my attention.

And if the way her lips were currently exploring the sensitive curve of my neck was any indication, I was definitely about to regret pranking her. Or maybe… maybe I'd do it again just to see her like this, her eyes burning with a possessive fire that only I could ignite.

Her teeth nipped at my skin, sending a jolt of pure electricity through my body. I arched my back, offering her more access, my fingers digging into the muscles of her shoulders. She chuckled softly, a sound that vibrated against my skin.

"You like that, huh?" she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. "You like being at my mercy?"

I didn't answer, couldn't answer. My mind was a blur of sensation, my body humming with anticipation. She knew exactly what she was doing, knew exactly how to push my buttons, how to make me crave her touch.

Her hands left my shoulders, sliding down my body to cup my breasts through my shirt. She squeezed gently, her thumbs teasing my nipples, and I moaned, my head falling back against the pillows.

"Tell me you like it," she demanded, her voice rough.

"I like it," I gasped, the words tumbling out of my mouth. "I like it a lot."

She smirked, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "Good. Because this is just the beginning."

With a swift movement, she unbuttoned my shirt, her fingers nimble and sure. The cool air hit my skin, making my nipples harden instantly. She leaned down, her lips closing over one of them, sucking hard. I cried out, my body arching against her.

She continued to lavish attention on my breasts, her mouth and hands working in perfect harmony. She licked, sucked, and teased, driving me closer and closer to the edge. I was a tangled mess of limbs and moans, completely at her mercy.

Finally, she pulled away, her eyes locking with mine. "Are you ready for me, baby?" she asked, her voice laced with a wicked promise.

I nodded, unable to speak, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

She reached down and unbuttoned my pants, sliding them down my legs along with my underwear. I lay naked before her, vulnerable and exposed, but I didn't feel ashamed. I felt desired, wanted, cherished.

She ran her hand down my stomach, her fingers tracing the curve of my hips. I shivered, anticipating her touch. She reached my core, her fingers gently parting my folds. I gasped as she found my clit, teasing it with slow, deliberate strokes.

"Tell me what you want," she whispered, her eyes burning into mine.

"I want you," I moaned, the words barely audible. "I want you inside me."

She smiled, a slow, knowing smile that sent shivers down my spine. "Not yet," she said, her voice soft but firm. "You're not ready yet."

She continued to tease me, her fingers working their magic, bringing me closer and closer to the edge. I begged her to stop, begged her to let me come, but she just laughed, a low, throaty sound that drove me wild.

"Almost there," she whispered, her fingers dancing over my clit. "Just a little bit more."

I was on the verge of losing control, my body trembling with anticipation. And then, just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, she stopped.

"Paige!" I cried out, my voice filled with frustration.

She just smiled, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Patience, baby," she said. "You'll get there. But not yet."

She leaned down and kissed me deeply, her tongue exploring my mouth, stealing my breath. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her closer, desperate for her touch.

After what seemed like an eternity, she finally pulled away, her eyes locking with mine. "Now," she said, her voice husky. "Now you're ready."

She slid two fingers inside me, slowly and deliberately. I gasped, my body arching against her touch. She began to move, her fingers stroking and teasing, driving me wild with pleasure.

"That's it, baby," she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "Let go. Let me take you there."

I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensation, letting her take me to the edge. My body tensed, my breath coming in ragged gasps. And then, finally, I shattered.

A wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure washed over me, leaving me weak and trembling. I cried out, my body convulsing with each pulse.

Paige continued to stroke me, her fingers working their magic until the last wave of pleasure had subsided. I lay there, breathless and exhausted, my body still tingling with sensation.

After a few minutes, I finally managed to catch my breath. I opened my eyes and looked at Paige, her face flushed with exertion.

"That was..." I began, but I couldn't find the words to describe what I had just experienced.

"Amazing?" she suggested, a teasing glint in her eyes.

"Yeah," I agreed, my voice barely a whisper. "Amazing."

I reached out and touched her face, my fingers tracing the curve of her cheek. "Thank you," I said, my voice filled with gratitude.

She smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that melted my heart. "You're welcome," she said. "Any time."

I wanted to return the favor, wanted to pleasure her the way she had pleasured me. I reached for her pants, but she stopped me.

"Nope," she said, shaking her head. "Not tonight. Tonight is all about you."

I frowned, disappointed. "But I want to—"

"I know," she said, cutting me off. "But trust me. I'm good. Just let me enjoy watching you."

She leaned back against the headboard, propping herself up with her arms. She watched me with a hungry gaze, her eyes filled with desire.

I blushed, feeling self-conscious under her scrutiny. "What?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

"Nothing," she said, her voice soft. "I'm just enjoying the view."

I giggled, feeling my cheeks flush even more. I reached for the blanket, wanting to cover myself, but she stopped me.

"Don't," she said, her voice firm. "I want to see you."

I hesitated for a moment, then slowly lowered the blanket. I lay naked before her, feeling vulnerable and exposed, but also strangely empowered.

She continued to watch me, her eyes roaming over my body, lingering on every curve and contour. I squirmed under her gaze, feeling a mixture of arousal and embarrassment.Suddenly, her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, her eyes widening in surprise.

"What is it?" I asked, curious.

She shook her head, a sheepish grin spreading across her face. "It's the group chat," she said. "They're calling us nasty."

I burst out laughing, remembering the TikTok prank and the recording on my phone. "Oops," I said, my voice filled with mirth. "Guess we forgot we were on the game."

She groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Oh my god," she muttered. "This is so embarrassing."

I reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "It's okay," I said. "It's just a little prank. Everyone does it."

She looked up at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "Yeah, but not like this," she said. "We're gonna be the laughingstock of the team."

I shrugged, not caring. "So what?" I said. "At least we had fun."

She smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that made my heart skip a beat. "Yeah," she said. "We did."

She leaned down and kissed me again, a slow, lingering kiss that sealed our connection. And in that moment, I knew that no matter what anyone else thought, we were perfect for each other

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[sofs16]

jealousy, jealousy!

pairing actress!reader x charles leclerc note hunger games has me in a chokehold

yn.yln

liked by tomblyth, charles_leclerc, and 11,392,695 others

tagged : charles_leclerc, and tomblyth

yn.yln what a lovely month! 🧡💥

view all 2,484,292 comments

ynbllthh her and tom are so cutieeeeeeeeee

⤷ yn.yyyn she’s literally head over heels for charles.

tomblyth Who’s that handsome in slide 4

⤷ yn.yln i think u mean slide 3 😝

⤷ tomblyth rude.

⤷charles_leclerc 😂

yn.yln just posted 2 instagram stories!

yn.yln

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, and 7,293,393 others yn.yln proudest of this one 🥹 #forzaferrari #p1!❤️

view all 28,595 comments

charles_leclerc ❤️

charyn_updates

liked by yn.yln, and 10,596 others

charyn_updates Yn and Charles at today’s NBA game🧡

view all 722 comments

scuderiaaf theyre such a pretty couple

user1 never beating the not in love allegations

tomblyth

liked by charles_leclerc, yn.yln, and 15,594,292 others

tomblyth Small film dump

view all 2,779,392 comments

yncharlover you cant say he doesnt like her 😭

yn.yln took the 2nd one. where are my credits. this is copyright!

⤷ tomblyth Photo credits: Yn Y/m/n Y/l/n 🖋️

charles_leclerc ❤️

⤷ user1 charles walked so tom could run away😭

user1 tom only replying to yn in all his posts is sooo

charles_leclerc

liked by yn.yln, and 16,494,392 others

tagged : yn.yln

charles_leclerc Tom has started a film dump train ❤️

view all 3,393,595 comments

tomblyth 😂

lando.jpg I started it Charles. ⤷ yn.yln actually I DID. I HAD YN.JPG 6 YEARS AGO

⤷ charles_leclerc Yn started it 🤗

user1 oh charles humbled him real bad 😭

yn.yl

liked by tomblyth, charles_leclerc and 20,584,282 others tagged: tomblyth and charles_leclerc yn.yln the film is out! ❤️

view all 7,282,292 comments

tomblyth you are so talented. world meets lucy gray!

⤷ yn.yln tom 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

charles_leclerc So proud of you!❤️ ⤷ yn.yln i love and miss uuu

user1 bros really testing the “can charles leclerc fight” line

f1wagossip

liked by 31,484 others

f1wagossip Looks like our favorite wag is getting comfy with someone that isn’t in red 👀

view all 1,586 comments

ynlevlerr YN WILDIN IN THAT LAST AND FIRST SLIDE

verstarlov “only got eyes for charles” 🙂🙂🙂

ynlover me knowing the ‘congrats on breaking through hollywood’ post is coming because she always does that when her costars are rising 🙂

#SOF: should i pt2?

future sof: i made a pt 2

[mewvore]

coach for a youth sports team in 2025: okay so your dna analysis chromosome tests came in and it shows that its difficult to definitively determine your sex so we're going to trace back your family tree and count how many men and women are on there and the gender with the lowest number of people will be the one you are, it'll be like the nba draft

[goldfades]

weee need Luka dad! x reader!!!!🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Your daughter is dramatic. Luka swears she gets it from you, but you know better—she gets it from him. It’s in the way she stomps through the house in her light-up sneakers like she’s got somewhere urgent to be, the way she argues with her father like a seasoned lawyer, her little brows furrowed in defiance, hands on her hips.

Most of all, it’s in the way she throws herself onto the couch now, spine melting into the cushions like she’s just been dealt the worst hand life has to offer.

“We have to go,” she says, voice lined with desperation. “Mama, we have to.”

She looks at you with those wide blue eyes, Luka’s copy-and-paste, but softer, rounder—more dangerous. She knows how to use them, too, lashes fluttering with the kind of precision that makes Luka grumble under his breath about how unfair the world is.

You humor her, pushing her curls away from her face. “Go where, baby?”

She gasps, appalled that you don’t already know. “To see Sabrina Carpenter!”

Your lips twitch, but you hold back the laugh, nodding along like this is Very Serious Business. “Right. Of course.”

This is her thing right now. A month ago, she wanted to be an astronaut. Two weeks ago, she was practicing her model walk in the hallway mirror, demanding that you and Luka call her Gigi Hadid. And now? Now, it’s Sabrina Carpenter. She’s been watching music videos on repeat, humming melodies under her breath, twirling around the kitchen like she’s waiting for someone to roll out a red carpet.

You turn to Luka, who’s sitting at the kitchen island, scrolling through his phone, blissfully unaware of what’s about to hit him.

“Baby,” you say sweetly, watching him glance up with suspicion. “Wanna take your girls to a concert?”

Luka squints. “What concert?”

Your daughter, already exasperated, huffs loudly. “Sabrina Carpenter!”

Luka blinks, expression blank. You swear you can see the loading symbol in real time. “…Who?”

Your daughter’s jaw drops. “Daddy,” she whispers, horrified. “How do you not know?”

He shifts uncomfortably, looking between the two of you like he’s just realized he’s outnumbered. “I—what? I don’t know her! What she do?”

Your daughter gasps again, clutching her chest like he’s just struck her down. “She sings Feather!”

“That’s supposed to mean something?”

Your daughter turns to you, pleading. Luka looks at you, helpless. And you? You’re just enjoying the show.

You let the silence stretch for a moment, just to watch Luka suffer. He looks between you and your daughter like he’s missed a crucial piece of information, like maybe he should know who Sabrina Carpenter is but has somehow failed a test he didn’t know he was taking.

“She’s a singer,” you finally say, taking pity on him.

“Uh-huh,” Luka nods, still clearly confused. “Like…Taylor Swift?”

Your daughter lights up at the name drop. “Yes! She opened for Taylor! But she’s also her own person, Daddy.”

Luka scratches his jaw. “So she’s like…baby Taylor Swift?”

Your daughter makes a sound so offended, so deeply wounded, you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing. “Daddy, no! She’s Sabrina! You have to know who she is!”

Luka looks at you for help, and you shrug, enjoying this way too much. He mutters something in Slovenian under his breath, rubbing a hand over his face like this is somehow harder than an NBA game. “Okay, okay,” he sighs. “You like her, you want to go to her show. When is it?”

Your daughter is already scrambling for the iPad on the counter, fingers flying across the screen as she pulls up the concert dates with the urgency of a stockbroker watching the market crash.

“She’s coming here next month!” she announces proudly. “And we need to go.”

You expect Luka to hesitate, to ask more questions, to try and find a way out of this. But he just looks at her—his little girl, the light of his life, the tiny human who has him wrapped around her tiny little finger—and sighs in defeat.

“Okay,” he says, nodding. “We go.”

Your daughter shrieks in delight, launching herself at him, her little arms barely making it around his broad chest. Luka catches her with ease, lifting her up like she weighs nothing, pressing a loud kiss to her cheek.

“You’re the best, Daddy!” she beams.

Luka groans dramatically. “I know, I know.”

But you? You know this is just the beginning. Because Luka might have agreed, but he still has no idea what he’s signed up for.

That night, after your daughter is asleep, you find Luka on the couch, scrolling through his phone with a deep frown.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” you ask, plopping down beside him.

“I look her up,” he says, turning his phone to you. Sure enough, Sabrina Carpenter’s Spotify page is open, her discography in full display. “I don’t know a single song.”

You press your lips together to keep from laughing. “You could’ve just asked me, you know.”

“I try to learn!” he says, exasperated. “So I don’t look stupid at the concert. But all these songs…‘Feather’? ‘Espresso’? What is this?”

“They’re hits, baby.”

Luka narrows his eyes. “She sings about coffee?”

You snatch the phone from his hands and press play. Instantly, the opening beats of Espresso fill the room, bright and bubbly, and Luka’s face twists like you just gave him a pop quiz in a language he doesn’t speak.

“This?” he points at the phone. “This is what she loves?”

You snort. “Luka, she’s six. She thinks Bluey is the height of emotional storytelling.”

Luka exhales loudly, dropping his head against the back of the couch. “I’m not ready for this.”

You hum, settling against him. “You weren’t ready for Barbie either, but you ended up loving it.”

“That was different,” he argues. “That was a movie. This is a concert. A bunch of screaming kids. Loud music. And you know what’s worst?”

You raise a brow. “What’s worst?”

Luka gestures vaguely. “She’s gonna want merch.”

You bark out a laugh. “You mean like the five different Luka Dončić jerseys she owns?”

He glares at you. “That is different.”

“Is it?”

Luka groans, rubbing his temples like he’s already exhausted. “I just—why can’t she be into something normal?”

You tilt your head. “Like basketball?”

“Yes!”

You smile. “Luka, she already loves basketball. But she also loves pop music, and Barbies, and dressing up, and changing her mind every two weeks. That’s the fun of being a kid.”

Luka sighs, but you can tell he’s softening.

“And,” you add, nudging him. “You love making her happy.”

That gets him. He grumbles something under his breath, but you see the fond smile tugging at his lips.

“So,” you tease, “wanna hear Feather next?”

Luka groans, but he doesn’t stop you from playing it.

And as much as he pretends to suffer, you don’t miss the way his foot starts tapping along to the beat.

[sophiria]

are you mine?

pairing: MSBY!Atsumu x fem!Reader cw: 18+, explicit sexual content, soft yanderish Atsumu, mentions of babytrapping, manipulative thoughts words: just a bit over 800

"Yer too much on that phone this morning," Atsumu said, nibbling at your earlobe while thrusting languidly inside you, his chest pressing against your back. "Ya should focus more on the moment."

You placed the smartphone on the nightstand. "I have to be available for the university project—ahh!" You gasped as Atsumu snapped his hips faster, holding your leg from under the knee. "Fuck—Atsumu, please."

He tilted your body slightly, and his free hand went to your clit. "What is it?" Atsumu half-whispered in your ear as he softly teased your sweet spot with his fingers. "Speak up, baby. I want to hear ya."

Heat spread under your skin as your clit throbbed under his touch. "Atsumu, I—I need to come," you breathed out, and your body shuddered as his cock hit that spot inside you. "God, please—I need it."

Atsumu began drawing circles on your clit while pounding into you, and a choked sob left your lips as your walls fluttered around his cock. He groaned as your cunt squeezed him, and his rhythm turned erratic as he chased his climax. "Fuck, I'm gonna come inside ya baby," he panted, his hot breath on your ear. "Yer clenching around me so tight—fuck!" His hips stuttered, and his thighs tensed before he spilled himself inside you. "Ah—fuck—baby." 

You moaned at the sensation of his warm cum filling you up, and shaky breaths left his lips as your pussy milked every last drop of his seed.

Atsumu wrapped his arms around your waist, snuggling you up to him. "Ya never let me wear a condom with ya," he said, a playful edge in his tone as he tried to even out his breathing. "Are ya tryin' to babytrap me?"

You let out a small laugh. "You know I'm on birth control," you reminded Atsumu. "You get tested often, and we're exclusive, so why not indulge in the thrill just a bit?"

He hummed at your words and then went quiet. Indeed, Atsumu thought, why not indulge...

"You should come to see me play," Atsumu said after a few minutes of silence. "Ya haven't done that ever since we started sleepin' together."

You tilted your head and upper body toward your lover. "That's because I prefer watching basketball," you told him half-jokingly. "But I will stop by sometimes, I promise."

Atsumu stared at you. "But ya prefer this volleyball player to any other sports player, right?" he asked you rhetorically, his gaze turning unreadable. "I can be very competitive, ya know that."

You lightly tapped his cheek. "Exclusive means I only sleep with you, Atsumu. So yes, of course I'm choosing you over them."

He smiled at your words, and you returned to your previous position, eager to relax before getting ready for the day ahead.

Atsumu nuzzled the crown of your head, then his eyes narrowed as he started thinking. For how long was he going to be your dirty little secret? Not that he minded not having the paparazzi on his tail, but the arrangement you two had won't do for him much longer. No, and he had to find a way to keep you for himself.

"Are ya trying to baby-trap me?"

His eyes widened. Of course, having a baby with him would guarantee your presence in his life...

But it would be a bit of a scandal, wouldn't it?

Atsumu could already picture what they'd write about the MSBY's star setter having a child out of wedlock with a college student, not to mention that once your name got out, they'd quickly find out that you also happen to be the Basketball Association's president's daughter and that a friend of your family just so happens to be a conglomerate heir and an NBA star. And your scandalous behavior would no doubt spell trouble for the people in your circle. You could be thrown to the wolves...

Atsumu heaved a sigh, but then the corners of his lips upturned in a smirk. He'd be there, taking care of you and your child. He'd move you into his apartment and probably ask you to marry him sometime later on. And maybe he'll listen to Kita-san and buy a farm somewhere in the prefecture...

"Atsumu," your teasing voice pulled him out of his reverie. "You're still inside me."

He placed a hand under your chin, angling your face towards his. "I like to be inside ya after sex," he murmured, brushing his lips against yours. "Makes me feel warm and sated."

Your lips parted against his, and Atsumu caught your mouth in a slow yet hungry kiss. One of his hands went to your stomach, and he rested his palm on your tummy. You sighed into his mouth and then turned your body towards him to wrap your arms around his neck. He smiled into the kiss, and his eyes glinted knowingly as he peered at you through a half-lidded gaze.

Yes, Atsumu thought, he'll take care of you, and you will not need anyone else but him.

[winwintea]

stop posting about BALLER - zhong chenle

PAIRING ↬ boyfriend!zhong chenle x reader

GENRES ↬ pure crack idk... fluff, romance, some angst if you look in between the lines, chenle loves basketball more than you. unfortunately.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ↬ inspired by a fic i read on ao3, a tiktok i watched where op got mad at their boyfriend for having headphones in while making out, plus my post here. and also chenle's recent fanboying activity in la. ignore the title its a placeholder for now, in honor of my dear friend @syatchy london stop writing for chenle challenge

WORD COUNT ↬ 1.3K

Everyone had their hobbies. You knew your boyfriend liked basketball, you just didn’t realize he liked it that much. 

Making it your life’s goal to win over the heart of Zhong Chenle, you spent countless hours studying quizlet flashcards, watching a couple of basketball games, even trying to learn the sport as well. Although you were surprised when it didn’t take more than a few dates for you to begin dating. 

Your best friend Ning Yizhuo, on the other hand, had other ideas. 

“I just think he’s a big red flag. Who the hell puts “I’m always ballin’” as their twitter bio?” She’s sprawled across your bed, mindlessly stalking your boyfriend’s social media accounts. “What if your man loves another man more than he loves you?” 

You’re paying her no mind, working on a basketball basics test on your laptop. Eight teams from each of the league's two conferences qualify for the playoffs. The top two teams play each other in the conference finals, to determine the Conference Champions from each side. The winners then play in the NBA Finals. 

Yizhuo suddenly stands up, “Hello? Earth to Y/N? Are you ignoring me?” You’re about to answer your next question, until she starts waving her hands in your face.

“What the hell, Yizhuo?” You turn around annoyed. “I was locked in!”

“Studying for basketball is crazy… Just warning you Y/N. Don’t come crying to me when your boyfriend calls you Stephen Curry’s name instead of your own.” 

You punch her in the shoulder, “I swear to god-” 

But Yizhuo seemed unfazed by your attacks, continuing on, “I’m just saying from experience hon. Sports guys like him will never love you as much as he loves his balls.”

“Um.. that’s what she said.”

—

Despite Yizhuo’s warnings and what she seemed so sure of, you and Chenle clicked in a way that none of your exes ever did. If he invited you to the gym, you’d show up with a yoga mat, pretending to do Pilates while sneaking glances at him bench pressing. If Chenle said he was hungry, you’d learn how do use a frying pan, determined to whip up something edible. And if he asked you to come over, you’d throw on your best outfit, adding an extra touch of appeal, and never forget to bring a treat for Daegal.

Spending time with Chenle was easy. It seemed almost too easy, that you began to slightly question why everything seemed so perfect. 

If there were any red flags like Yizhuo pointed out, it was probably too small to see in the mix of fun times you spent together.

Times spent together usually and often ended with the two of you cuddling or making out on his couch. 

Unsurprisingly, Chenle was a really good kisser. Plus, he was good at cuddling. You had no doubts in that moment you laid eyes on him, but everything was certainly up to expectations. He knew exactly how to hold you in his arms and make you feel like you were on top of the whole damn world. 

As you leaned in closer for another this time, your hands running through his hair, you took notice of his features. His incredibly sharp jawline (mewing tutorial when?), the flushed pink splashed across his collarbones up to his cheeks, and now that he grew out his hair longer, it was much harder to see the shape of his ears-

Hold on.

You blink and then squint your eyes for a couple of seconds, hoping you’re just imagining things.

“Chenle. Are those Airpods?”

Chenle immediately pushes you off of him and then freezes.

You see every single emotion flash through Chenle’s eyes, but he’s still speechless. You’d honestly thought you’d been through the entire spectrum of men in your life, from guys who had memes tattooed on their chest to guys who brought their mother to dates to guys with an extremely interesting savior complex, but nothing could’ve prepared you for this.

Relax. You still had your dignity to protect. “What… are you listening to?” Maybe he was into listening to music while making out, maybe some relaxing sounds people used to cope with traumatic intimate experiences??? You were thinking of anything at this point, trying to brace yourself for the absolute worse. 

“Highlights” Chenle begins, looking at you nervously, “For uh, for the Warriors game.” Before you can even process the info, Chenle rambles on, “We’re so so close to a wild card spot and I wanted to turn the game on earlier, but you were talking about your project you were working on and I really wanted to listen, and right now it’s not like we’re talking about anything important, so I figured it might be alright if I-“

what the fuck… yeah shut the hell up right now please, you think as he keeps rambling, and turn around to grab a pillow behind to smack this big headed shit right in the head. 

“Ow-“ Chenle throws his hands up in defense, trying to block the pillow that comes crashing down. “What? Hey!”

“Zhong Chenle. I’m going to chop your fucking dick off.”

—

In the end, Chenle’s dick remains intact. 

After letting himself get beaten up by a pillow, he manages to get you to calm down, taking the airpods out, which makes you a little bit happier than you were before. 

Chenle leaves you on the couch to take a shower, allowing you to ponder for a bit. Were you being too restricting this way? Chenle seemed to still care about you, and didn’t want to take away time from your own interests as well. I mean… maybe you needed to get into basketball as well to fully understand. 

As you lounge on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through Pinterest, you hear the faint sound of the shower turning off. Before you know it, Chenle slips onto the couch beside you, his presence warm and comforting. In one smooth motion, he curls himself around you, arms gently wrapping around your waist as his head nestles into the crook of your neck. The familiar scent of the shampoo you gifted him lingers in the air, blending with the soft warmth of his skin. 

Your mind's racing, caught between conflicting emotions. And damn, Chenle smells incredible, which really isn’t helping right now.

A minute of silence passes before he finally speaks, his voice soft but serious. “Look, I get if you’re uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to push any boundaries. If that was too much, I won’t do it again. And if this is something that’s going to be a dealbreaker for us, I get it—we can end things here.”

“No, wait—no,” you cut in, setting your phone aside to face him. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

Okay, it was weird. You’ll give him that. Maybe his “casual” obsession with basketball wasn’t as casual as you thought. And sure, that might be a red flag for some.

But Yizhuo’s wrong. Maybe Chenle’s got a deeper connection with his basketballs than you or whoever she’s comparing him to, but at least he’s never moaned or called you Stephen Curry in the heat of the moment.

That’s gotta count for something, right?

Yeah, maybe this wasn’t so bad. You could get used to this. Besides, he already promised he wouldn’t do it again.

Your thoughts bounce back and forth, but after a while, you break the silence with a quiet, “Did you win?”

His head lifts from your shoulder instantly, excitement buzzing in his voice. “Yeah, we did! Secured our spot in the conference finals.”

Conference finals. Oh, right. You recognize that term—studied it on Quizlet like the good, supportive partner you are.

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself, swallowing down the nervous lump in your throat. Chenle might be a bit obsessed with the sport, but he was supportive of your own goals and actually a really nice boyfriend. 

“Tell me about it.”

PERM TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @ldh0000

[moonsdrs]

CHANGES TO MY CHALLENGERS DR

tennis rivalries, years of pent up homosexual frustration and petty grudges, and...well...tashi duncan.

ᯓ★ main change! everything starts in 2019. stanford scholarships. junior us open that changes everything. going from being named the dolce and gabbana of doubles to having a sort of wta equivalent to that nba's larry bird and magic johnson.

ᯓ★ which leads me into this. tashi doesn't get acl tear! she and i basically shove our own foot in our mouths. diplomas over titles? yeah, bullshit. our freshmen year rivalry was playful then stirred to a head so much so we both ended up going pro to really put a test to skills in a place where it'd "really count".

ᯓ★ as for fire and ice? well, they're still going strong. they still act like how they did in their teens. they are reigning the atp in their own right. art's still high ranked but patrick's not far behind himself. it's merely effortless compared to me and tashi's consistent pursuit of being better than the other.

ᯓ★ however! there is a falling out. maybe a bit of meddling somewhere? circa 2025-2029 for art and patrick. i'm not saying it's tashi's fault but- *nose rubs* anyway, art and tashi get back together around 2024? and patrick and i get together in 2025. if 2+2 is 4...and 5+5 is 10.....

ᯓ★ rivals working for rivals. new balance vs adidas. porsche vs aston martin. hell, the only thing tashi and i got incommon for an endorsement is wilson sports.

okay, i think that's all the changes for now. i wrote this quickly before i have to clock in for work but i'll happily expand on everything if you got a question. just put it in my ask box and i'll try to respond quick! xx

[bluewatersfairy]

daydreamin' - j.t.

a/n: I started writing this at the beginning of the '22-'23 season and have been meaning to do something with it for literally 2 years. Hope you enjoy lmao!

synopsis: reader gets a little too lost in her head whilst on set with Jayson

warnings: mature content, MINORS DNI! small mentions of oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, exhibitionist kink mentioned/depicted, slight degrading/name calling (literally once if you squint), filth but like in a fun way.

word count: 5.3k (imagine if i could just shut the fuck up)

•••

Time felt slowed and your eyelids were droopy, despite the clock behind you reading 11am.  An early call time mixed with a red-eye meant that there wasn’t much time to rest horizontally, or at all.  Some things were worth the sacrifice for though.  He was most definitely one of those things.

When the story first landed on your desk, you almost couldn’t believe it.  The Celtics had been playing on your television for as long as you could remember.  You’d grown up watching every draft and noting down each new player that joined the roster.  You were always in to support the new up-and-comers as a child and in your professional life.  

You’d written and pitched a few stories about the young core over recent years but nothing had ever been picked up for a full length piece.  The best you got was a short piece for one special edition that highlighted the great women that stood behind the biggest sportsmen in sports today.  The NBA section was one of the smallest word counts you’d been given, but you did the best you could.

A full length piece like this being handed to you, a cover story no less, made little sense to you.  You weren’t going to turn it down, but it took you a few minutes to process what was being asked of you.  Truthfully, it hadn’t properly sunk in until you were on the plane, flying cross-country for a 48-hour stay.  A full cover story on someone with all eyes on him meant that it was going to be the biggest opportunity of your career.  Not only was it a big deal for him, it was for you too.  You were not going to let yourself waste it by getting lost in him. 

Even as the sirens wailed, trying to pull you back to reality, your eyes couldn’t pull away from Jayson.  Like magnets, his hands forced you to scan over his chest with his next pose.  The fake sweat that had been sprayed over him caught the light as the photographer wanted and your heart almost stopped.  You didn’t understand why this story meant he had to pose for thirst-trap-like pictures in his Celtic uniform.  Did the universe have something against you?

Someone called your name from behind you and snapped you out of your daydream.  They were clearly impatient, the sound of a clicking pen matching with the click of dress shoes on concrete floors.  With your attention turned back to the little prep work you had left to complete, you did a final once over of the questions you’d prepared for Jayson.  His agent was watching every move you made and when you finally handed them the sheet, they marched off calling a hurried ‘thank you’ to you.  

You took a deep breath for the 100th time and looked over your recorder again.  Full battery?  Yes.  Storage status?  Completely empty.  Vocal tests?  All three completed.  It was fine, perfect even; ready to go whenever Jayson was.  Your anxiety, however, was making it difficult for you to be ready.  In a quiet tone, you started to count to ten, reaching for a cracker as you did.  You needed to nibble on something that wouldn’t come straight back up.  Looking at your hand holding the cracker, you noticed just how obviously your now jumpy nature was.  Your nerves were starting to present to others; this is not good, you thought to yourself, just fake it, smile and push through.  You needed water, a lot of it.  Was your throat always this dry?

“They want me to wear a tie,” Jayson’s voice cut through your thoughts, forcing you to turn around a little too quickly.  His deep and raspy tone had caught you off guard.  Your body’s immediate response was to send spirals to the pit of your stomach and float to your chest with impeccable speed.

“If you’d rather not, I don’t think it’s necessary?”  you replied, your uncertainty and want to please him clear as day. 

“Nah,” he shook his head and flashed his charming smile at you, “they’ve got a vision, I’ll stick to it.”

He had changed into his formal look for the shoot.  It was a classic black Dior suit with a white button up.  It was tailored to his figure beautifully and gave him a really classically handsome look.  It was the lining of the suit jacket that made it special as well as the socks he wore.  Custom-made with embellishments of his home city and his mother and sons’ names stitched over his heart.  He looked incredibly dapper and handsome, clean and perfect.  

You swallowed and let your eyes fall to his hands as he showed you the three ties he’d been given.  They were all quite simple and classic, but you were immediately drawn to the Dior silk black ribbon tie with a bee embellishment

“Which one do you think?” Jayson held all three of them up to his chest and posed for you.  He let out something of a chuckle, his eyes focusing on you as he scrunched his nose.  He was absolutely adorable, and he was starting to make you melt.

You gently tapped on the tie you thought was best and expected him to step away and give you a second to breathe.  Instead, he reached behind you to put the unchosen ties down before putting the one you had selected over his shoulder. 

“Here,” Jayson said, starting to tweak his collar, “could you, y’know?”

You nodded your head quickly and took the tie from him, your fingertips lingering against his warm skin for a second too long.

“They’ve got a stool here somewhere,” you said more to yourself than him as your eyes scanned the room.  You spotted it and brought it over to him, hoping it would help close the height difference.

Jayson’s gaze stayed on your face from the moment you lifted the tie from his hand until the moment you stepped off of the stool.  It was intense.  It didn’t help the way he smirked when you fiddled with the tie.  Or the way he tugged on his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing.  You almost told him to stop, not that you were actually sure what it was that you wanted him to stop doing.  If anything, you were the one that needed to stop. 

It took almost every part of you to stop the image of you wrapping the tie around his wrists instead of the collar of his dress shirt.  Like dominos, the scene that unfolded couldn’t be stopped, so you’d just have to push it down and ignore it.

Ignore the way he’d look, completely naked with his wingspan stretched out to either side of your bed.  The cool black silk ties secured his big hands against the wooden headboard.  He didn’t struggle against the ties, all he did was wriggle his wrists to see how much he could do.  It wasn’t a lot, he could tell this wasn’t your first time. 

His head turned away from his wrists to find you standing at the foot of the bed, only in an emerald green two-piece lingerie set.  It complimented your deep brown skin devilishly well, Jayson couldn’t look away.  He let out a deep, throaty groan as he watched you slip your thumbs under the hem of your panties and began to pull them down your hips.

“You’re so good to me,” he part moaned, “look at you baby, I can’t say nothin’.”

His entire body flexed as you knelt on the bed only in your bra.  You licked your lips and watched his girthy cock move with the rest of his muscles.  You were so tempted to crawl up his body, and stop with your mouth hovering dangerously close to his dick.  Teasingly, you’d kiss the tip and gently caress the shaft.  Your mouth watered at the thought.  You knew yourself well enough that you wouldn’t stop with a little teasing.  You’d end up taking the whole thing in your mouth, making a mess of your lipstick and your mascara as your eyes watered.  

To compromise, when your mouth hovered over his cock, you gripped the shaft with your left hand.  Jayson’s response was similar to one of pain or a burn – a gasp of surprise that expressed both pleasure and discomfort.  It made you giggle and you wondered if he had ever been like this with anyone else.  

“Fuck,” he dragged out as he watched your spit fall from your plump lips to his tip.  

You rubbed your thumb over the head and dragged the saliva down his shaft, pumping him so you could hear him sing out in pleasure.  He threw his head back and looked up for the first time that night.  He was met with the surprise of a lifetime.  You had had a mirror on the ceiling installed, and he now had two of the best views possible. 

“You could be a professional,” Jayson said as he looked over himself in the mirror.  “I’ve never been able to get my ties just right.”

“I’ll add that to my resume,” you smiled at him and carefully stepped down from the stool.  “Great sports journalist, even better tie-tyer.”

“You could pimp yourself out to fashion houses and modelling agencies,” he laughed, “you’d get an inside scope of what goes on behind the scenes as well.”

“That’s not half bad, actually.”  You shared a moment of laughter, and another of silence and gazing at each other before you were brought back to the real world by the photographer.  

Jayson went back to posing, though now it was less structured.  They were getting shots of him smiling and showing off the inside lining of his jacket, as well as a few of him holding his shoes.  You took a seat and let yourself go over your notes, though you were still distracted by him.  You weren’t sure if it was that he was a natural in front of the camera or simply that he was very handsome, but every time you looked up, he looked beyond good.  You were constantly reminded of just how fine he was and it was so overwhelming.  

He oozed that type of physical attraction that you felt deep in your uterus.  Your whole body just wanted him everywhere and there wasn’t much to stop it.  His quiet manner was no help either.  As a journalist, you were always digging for a bigger story and you wanted to just get into his mind and learn as much about him as possible.  He was easy to talk to, and you found that a connection between the interviewer and interviewee was what made a great piece.  

You needed this to be the best story of your career, an opportunity like this had the possibility of elevating your life and opening countless doors.  Hopefully, you’d finally get that job offer that would bring you to the east coast, the one you’d been looking for for close to a year.  

Your name being called from across the room pulls your gaze away from Jayson and you began to make your way over to what looked to be a team meeting.  There wasn’t much for you to say or do, except listen and nod when appropriate.  Jayson’s team was taking the lead of a majority of this shoot as he had a few other things he had to fit into his day.  You knew going in that the interview portion would come at the end, that you were really only there to get a feel of the vibe and find your footing with him.  

“I’ve gone over your questions,” Jayson’s agent turned to face you, “they’re good, nothing I can tell he won’t answer.  He seems to like you as well so he should give you more than you need for this to be an excellent cover story.” 

You nodded your head, agreeing, to show you were listening and noticed their gaze had gone back to Jayson.  When you turned to follow it, you found Jayson was looking directly at you.  He wasn’t being subtle about it either.  When your eyes found his, he smiled his stunning smile and the camera flashed.

“I might need you to cover him more often if you can get him to smile like that,” his agent commented, “he’s like a child sometimes when he smiles for the camera.”  Without another word, they’d walked away and you were standing alone again.  

You could sense that things were starting to move a bit quicker.  His team seemed to be prepping more and you caught bits and pieces of the requests and questions being thrown around amongst them.  Someone was sent off to get coffee, someone else was sent outside to make sure the balcony was accessible, comfortable and private.  You had assumed you would interview Jayson inside but it seemed everyone else had a different idea in mind.  

It was Jayson who approached you first to invite you out there to get started.  In your past experiences of interviewing professional and famous athletes, this wasn’t a norm.  Usually you were sent to the preferred interview spot to wait for the interviewee and they certainly weren’t the people to direct you there either.  But this was Jayson.  This is the narrative he’d created for himself, a polite, respectable young man.  

He walked two steps behind you, now in a pair of grey sweats and a black Jaylen Brown graphic tee.  He was more relaxed now and in turn, you felt a little more at ease.  If he was still in his Dior suit, it would’ve been a different story, you would’ve felt under-dressed in your business-casual outfit.  

“It’s beautiful out here,” Jayson said as you both stepped out, his hand reaching to the small of your back to guide you around the table and chairs to see the view properly.

“It is,” you breathed out as you placed your hands on the balcony rail.  You felt like you could see forever from right there, like you were at the top of the world.

“It’s so much better at night, when all the city lights are on.  You really feel like you’re on top of the world,” he paused as he placed his hand next to yours, “it’s romantic too.  All the lights in the dark, you’re just a world away from everyone else.  No one can see or hear you up here, it’s comfortable.”  you watched closely as his hand moved to rest on top of yours. 

You tried to imagine it, what it would feel like to be this far removed from everyone, just you and him.  The small of your back seemed to burn as you tried to remember what it felt like to have his hand there.  What would it feel like if there was no material in the way, and he was pushing you forward, making your back arch?

Pitch black surrounding you and just the sparkling lights of the city far below you.  You can barely hear the cars driving by, just the soft breeze brushing past your ears and the melodic rhythm and harmonious sounds of your grunts and moans mixing together.  You’d felt far too exposed when Jayson had first started to undress you but his mouth had quickly erased all your worries and insecurities from your mind.  He covered you in kisses before he reached your core.  He’d turned you around so fast, you’d barely had a moment to catch yourself on the balcony before he’d buried his face in your pussy, his tongue lapping at your folds and only breaking to nip at your inner thighs and round ass. 

The second you’d got him naked after he’d chivalrously made you cum twice, his body was immediately pushed up against yours.  Your hands were hot on his body, grabbing at his waist and hips while your lips fought against his own.

“You’re eager,” he teased as he broke away from your lips, grinning as he dropped his head to your clavicle, “‘bit of a change from before.”

“I think it’s more than you’re an exhibitionist and I think logically about how sex with us works.”  Jayson stood up straight at your rebuttal so he could look down at you properly. 

“Exhibitionists like to be seen and heard, look around princess,” he smirked as he spun you back so your ass was pressed to his front again, “no one can see or hear us up here.”

Jayson, truthfully, was exhilarated by the freedom that came with fucking outside and it became very obvious to you, very quickly.  He was louder than usual, but he was making you that much louder too.  His voice was rough as he told you to let him hear you, telling you to say his name louder and louder.  He wanted you to praise him unashamed and let everyone know exactly who was making you cum at that very moment.  

He also wanted someone to see how good you were for him, he was basically begging to see a flash in a window somewhere.  Jayson Tatum and his beautiful mystery whore, oh he could see it in white writing as he pulled out and sprayed his load on your back.  

“Do you want a napkin?”  Jayson asked as he got comfortable in the chair across from you.  

One of the people from his team had brought out their coffees and had given Jayson a handful of napkins.  You made a note in your mind that it was likely because he asks for extra when he had his son with him and it was just what his team did without thinking.  

You smiled and took one from him before crossing your legs and letting yourself relax into the chair a bit.  You mumbled a thanks as you slipped it under your tablet that was resting on your lap.  

You pressed the green button on your voice recorder and placed it on the table in front of you before asking Jayson if he was ready.  He nodded his head eagerly and rubbed his hands together.

“Where would you like to start?”  you smiled across at him and he returned the smile.

“In the middle, like all the good stories.” 

That was what you wanted to hear and you glanced at your notes, not that you needed to.  You knew exactly where you were going to start.

“In your relatively short career thus far, you’ve managed to accomplish many things other players spend their entire lives trying to reach, and many retire without touching the surface.  You’ve got gold medals, a signature shoe, multiple all-NBA placings and now a world championship, and that’s within the world of basketball.  If we stepped out, we could list so many more business endeavours.  We know you idolised Kobe and his own off-season adventures and his life outside the league went far beyond basketball.  What I want to know is what you want your future off-seasons to look like?  Do you have a desire to pursue something creative?”  

It was a long-winded question, but asking it made Jayson light up, this seemed to spark something that he was eager to share.  Starting in the middle was always the best when you had a good vibe with an interviewee.  You’d managed to create an emotional bond of sorts with Jayson already so you didn’t have to do the relationship-building-questions.  You could just ask something incredibly personal and trust that you would be given something you can easily build off of.  And that was exactly what Jayson gave you.

He begun by explaining that in the last two-years or so, he’d grown an interest in art and had started something of a collection.  “It’s not necessarily something to brag about compared to some of the collections I’ve been exposed to in the art-world, but it’s a start and I’m really proud of it.”

He was inspired too, he continued to explain.  He loved the portraits and landscapes he’d been exposed to and the realism of it all, but he was a story-lover above all things and it’s those type of paintings that draw him in.  

“You don’t always know straight away what you’re looking at, but when you read or hear the title of the painting, or a brief explanation about it, you start to see the painting as the story it is.”

“Would you ever consider picking up a brush and trying something yourself?”

“I think about it all the time,” he admitted with a tilt of his head, “but I wouldn’t want it to be for anyone but me, y’know?  Like them sex portraits and intimate art pieces that are created out of lust and love.  

“I’m lucky ‘cause my job is my passion, right?  I go to work and I train really hard and play even harder and while basketball is a creative process, it’s set in its ways.  I’m so attracted to the idea of doing something that’s physically and mentally freeing and I think that’s why I’m kinda obsessed with those types of paintings and why I wanna make them myself.”

He paused for a second, his eyes pulling away from yours for the first time since he’d started talking about it.  “Maybe,” he adds quickly, “I maybe want to make them myself.”  He laughed lightly and shook his head a little, definitely questioning a little bit why he’d said so much.

But it was good, it was what you wanted to hear from him.  It humanised him, showed more of his personality that he was so protective of.  It was an easy spot for you to jump from as well, you had a million things that you could ask from here and you sure as hell were gonna ask them.  You just had to avoid anything to do with sex and lust, because that was where you’d been stuck for the better half of the last 3 hours since you’d arrived at this shoot.

It was not helping you at all either, that Jayson was manspreading in his seat and you could definitely see his dickprint in his grey sweats.  It was unprofessional, of course, but you could not stop looking at it every few minutes.  And while he was talking about a sex portrait, you could’ve sworn you’d seen it react.  God help your mind and where it was running off to in that moment.

A locked door and a series of paints could be spread all around him and he could be instructing you what to do.  Promising you everything was safe and it was just an idea he had, and a massive canvas he’d found a little too easily.  

Or maybe it would start more innocently.  He’d wanted to try a live-model art class but it felt a little wrong for him, as a well known face and figure around Boston, to show up to a class to draw a naked woman.  So instead, he’d ask you to.  Sketching would turn to painting, or him trying to do something abstract.

“Can I see it?” you’d crossed your arm over your chest, holding your large breasts from spilling out as you walked to stand beside him.  He had this look of amusement on his face that you quickly shared.

What he’d painted and sketched maybe looked somewhat like you, if you focused on your body shape, but everything else was unclear.  You bit back a laugh and tried to wait for Jayson to say something regarding what he’d done.  

“I don’t think painting is my God given talent,” he mumbled quietly and before you could stop yourself, you started laughing.  Jayson turned to look at you and watched for a moment, before he very smoothly flicked paint over your arms and chest.  

“I didn’t say anything!” You squealed as he managed to throw a small amount of paint on you again.  There was this look on his face now that seemed so joyous yet dangerous, like he was plotting something that was no good.  

Your suspicious were confirmed when he started to pull off his own clothes and you realised that he was evening the playing field – this was now war.  Like teenagers, the two of you started running around the room throwing paint at one another and laughing with the highest amounts of joy you’d experienced in so long.  It was freeing and peaceful.  The type of thing, you realised, love songs and stories were made of.  

“God, I love you,” Jayson confessed as he grabbed you around the waist, his chest covered in the red and yellow paint that covered your hands, and you covered in the blue and green that covered his.  

“I love you,” you replied with a massive grin, your arms wrapping around him and you pressed your lips to his.  

“I have an idea,” Jayson smiled as rubbed your core over his dick.

“Are you ever not horny?” you asked, feeling just how much he’d started to feel in a very short amount of time.

“‘Could ask you the same thing?” he smirked before raising his eyebrows at you.  

It was the easiest transition from him holding you to the two of you on the floor, on top of a massive canvas he’d had laying there for the past few days.  You’re on top of him, hands pressed against the canvas as he switched between gripping your hips and your tits, while you rode his cock like a pro.  Your head was thrown back, the lube he’d drenched on his cock before you climbed on made everything feel so much better.  

“Roll your hips just like that baby,” he encouraged you with dark eyes, “you know how to do me right.”

You keep going on top of him until he tells you to stop.  You climbed off him and watched as he hit his cock roughly.  He didn’t want to cum yet, he wanted to do more, you could see it in his face.  You carefully lent forward, your hands leaving prints on the canvas and you gently kissed his lips.

“You okay?” he asked softly as he slipped his hand down your back.

“I’m okay, baby,” you smiled, “I’m just checking if you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” he echoed and kissed you again, “I have an idea though.”

He sat up as he spoke and moved to be behind you.  He kissed your shoulders and your neck and moved you gently, but with a certain sense of control that made you that much hotter.  You on all fours had given him this idea of your body’s print on the canvas.  Your tits were covered in paint, as was the rest of your torso, it would be a sight to see.  One he needed to see.

He pushed your chest down and guided your ass up leaving your pretty pussy on full display for him.  He let a stream of spit drip onto your throbbing hole and pressed his thumb against it, rubbing and teasing you and making you moan loudly.  You pushed your hips back and wiggled your ass, trying to get him to slip inside you again.

“I want you face down and ass up till I fill that pussy up,” he ordered, his hand pushing you down even more so you were pressed fully into the canvas.

“Whatever you want Jay, just fuck me.”

When he slipped into you again, he filled you to the hilt and did nothing to hold himself back.  He fucked you into the canvas and watched with a devilish grin as you spread your hands out to try and grip on to something.  It left pretty marks over the canvas and made him think more and more about how your tit print is gonna look.

“Your tits are gonna look so good on here baby,” he moaned before smacking your ass, “almost as good as you fucking feel right now, oh fuck.”

You turned your head to the side and let your moans sing along with his.  He was so turned on that it was driving you crazy, you didn’t even know what it was but you needed it to happen more.

“Are you gonna cum?”

“Say that again?” you asked as you lowered your coffee mug from your lips, your cheeks red.

“Are you gonna come?” Jayson asked again, “to the ring ceremony?  I know you’ve covered me and Jaylen before, so it would make sense if they fly you out for it.”

You smiled and nodded your head, “I hope they do.  I’ll let them know you asked, might give them the push to do it.”  

“You can give them my number if you want, they can call and I’ll let them know that I personally want you there.”  He winked at you and made you blush yet again.  

You only had a few more questions left, you’d gotten a lot of content from Jayson in the past 30 minutes, you were really grateful for it.  You knew it would read well too and would most likely give you more opportunities for future cover stories.  You knew you could write this well.  You were determined to as well, not just for yourself but for Jayson too.  

You had one final question to ask and it made you smile, this was all very full circle considering you started with a middle-type question.

“Lastly, how are you?  How does it feel to be doing a cover story?”

He chuckled a little and rubbed his temple, “no matter how many I do, I always love doing them.  I forget how good it feels to be in front of the camera, honestly.  I feel real important and I really enjoy being the centre of attention.”  

You giggled a little at this comment and it makes him smile even more, “I really enjoyed talking to you too, I hope we can do this again sometime.”

“Hopefully when I’m in for the ring ceremony,” you replied and you both share a short laugh before you’re thanking him and officially ending your audio recording.

Wrapping things up is a much quicker process than getting everything set up.  Before you know it, you’ve shaken everyone on his team's hands and thanked them for having you.  The photographers have told you they’ll be in contact within the next few days and just like that you’re standing in the elevator and the doors are almost closed.

Almost closed before someone stuck their hand in and forced the doors open again.

“Sorry,” Jayson said and slid in quickly, and pushed the closed door button.  He moved to stand beside you and together, you watched the doors closed.

“I’ve been waiting to do this all day,” Jayson mumbled as he cupped your face in his hand and kissed you.  You welcomed his embrace and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“Hey baby,” you cooed, looking up at him.

“How long are you here for?” he asked, his hand not so subtly grabbing at your behind, “I’m not leaving your side for the rest of it.”

“30 hours,” you went on your tiptoes quickly and kissed the base of his neck, “I have a couple things I want to do.”

“Mm,” he hummed at the feeling of your lips still on his neck, “I’m so proud of you, this is such a big opportunity and you crushed all that shit.  Everyone was saying they’re so impressed with you.”  

“Do you wanna show me how proud you are?” you asked looking up at him, finally feeling like you can let out everything you’ve been feeling and thinking about.

“Oh,” Jayson said as he realised, “okay then, we gotta go.”

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