:)

she/her - 19 :)

[bullet-prooflove]

The Last Hurdle: Danny Williams x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @football1921 @fangirling-alert @lovebookheart @navs-bhat

Summary: Your time out in the woods has some unforseen consquences for your health.

Companion piece to:

One Night - Danny realises he’s made a mistake after the first night you’ve spent together.

The Backseat (NSFW) - Danny’s attempt to discuss the night before goes awry.

Can't Fight This Feeling (NSFW) - Danny stops fighting his feelings for you.

Distraction - Danny finds you to be a welcome distraction.

96 Hours - Danny worries after he doesn't hear from you.

Gut Feeling - Danny’s fears are validated when he stops by your home.

Three Days - Danny discovers your fate when Peterson decides to send pictures.

Buried - What happened during those three days you were missing?

Mythbusters - Danny has never been so thankful for an episode of Mythbusters.

Danny doesn’t remember the helicopter ride. He doesn’t remember stepping foot in the damn thing, he doesn’t remember getting out of the damn thing, his only focus is you, always you.

You look like you’ve been through hell as you sit in that camping chair. Your hair is damp, rinsed through in a river or nearby water source he guesses. Your clothes are stained with dirt, the ruddy mud clinging to the silk fabric, embedding itself in the fibres. The black pencil skirt is torn, deliberately he imagines so you could use the strips of fabric to make shelter and source food. Your feet are black and bloody from the time you’ve had to spend barefoot, trapsing through the dense forestry. There’s faded bruising seared into your skin, underneath the scratch marks from your time in the wilderness.

You don’t have it in you to get up when you see him. You try but your knees buckle. There’s an unhealthy glow to your cheeks and a concerned expression on Aya the paramedic hunter who’s been treating you.

“She needs to get to the hospital right now.” Aya tells him. “She’s got an infection, possibly sepsis-”

Just the mention of that word has the hairs on the back of Danny’s neck standing up. He knew a guy once who got scratched on a chain-link fence during a foot pursuit. Eighteen hours later he was gone, multiple organ failure all because he hadn’t bothered to clean out the wound.

“You’re riding with us.” He tells Aya as he scoops you up from the chair, your arms looping around his neck. You bury your face into the hollow of his throat, and he can feel your laboured breaths through your ribcage with every raspy inhale.

“If you wanted to play out a Bodyguard fantasy all you had to do was ask.” You whisper into his ear.

“You’re a funny girl you know that?” He bats back, his lips brushing over your hairline as he carries you to the helicopter. “I’ll be your Kevin Costner anytime sweetheart, you just say the word and I’m there sweeping you off your feet.”

You laugh but it’s a raw wheeze that tears at his heart as his pace quickens.

“I’m tired Danny.” You confess with an exhausted sigh. “But I didn’t just pull my ass out of a grave to fall down at the last hurdle.”

“No baby.” He tells you as Aya grasps the handle of the chopper door and hauls it open. “No, you certainly didn’t.”

Love Danny? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[quickestgold]

Still Life: Dr. Jack Abbot x Reader

Synopsis: Jack always expects the unexpected, both as a doctor and a partner. But when your water breaks during a citywide blackout, the pressure to deliver your baby safely grows with each contraction, trapping you, him and Robby in a single, still moment of life and loss.

Warnings: Angst, as always; Pregnant reader; Features a graphic, traumatic birth > Similar to the birth scene in the show. Pls don’t read if this sounds too heavy for you!! (everyone lives)

Word count: 2.7k+

A/n: Yes, this is a cliché baby-born-in-an-elevator story, but the show gave us Abbot/Robby x Elevator and Collins mentioned getting stuck while giving birth, sooo what can I say, we're here now, aren't we. Something something about the enclosed space being a metaphor for birth etc. I’m also very passionate about raising awareness for birth trauma / birth related injuries + these are my emotional support sad boys, so I had to… Enjoy <3

“I’m not giving my baby an old white guy name” you deadpan, leaning against the nurses' station, glancing up at the board with a playful grin. Ellis and Shen chuckle at your honesty, Princess and Perlah enjoying the show from a distance.

As if summoned, “Oh I know you’re not talking about us” Robby counters, him and Jack suddenly appearing next to you.

“Well I know she’s not talking about me!” Jack adds lightly with that dry humor you love so much.

"All I'm saying is, Frank is a great name for a little boy." Langdon argues from his side of the station, hands on his hips. "Frankie. Frankie Jr., the possibilities are endless..."

You roll your eyes, though you can't help but smile fondly at the camaraderie, a warm feeling growing in your stomach.

Though it might be something else.

"Maybe we should go for a name that doesn't sound like he's already retired", Jack quips, his eyes meeting yours. Something about the way you're leaning against the station, catches his attention, worry flickering in his eyes.

The storm outside has been growing since the start of your shift, a low rumble in the distance interrupts the friendly work banter.

As if on cue, you feel another tightening in your lower abdomen, this time a sharp stab that makes you wince. You brace yourself against the counter, careful not to let anyone notice.

You're 40 weeks pregnant, but you know it's not active labor... yet.

Jack is already so prepared, so meticulous. You don't want to worry him more than necessary.

“Well, my vote’s for something classic”, Robby says cheerfully. “Like, um… Robby. Simple, strong.”

"Good thing you don't get one." Jack raises an eyebrow as he steps behind you, putting an arm around your waist instinctively. With ease he holds up your belly, taking some of the weight off your back. He gently pecks your cheek, whispering into your ear. "You okay?"

You lean into his embrace, taking a breath of relief, as you feel the pressure building inside you again.

Before you can respond, the storm outside shifts from a distant rumble to something more urgent. You hear the first crack of thunder, followed by a flash of lightning that lights up the hospital windows.

“So much for having a quiet night”, Shen laughs.

You instantly shush him, loudly. Everyone's reaction's are instantaneous, Princess and Perlah cursing in Tagalog.

Ellis: "Fuuuck!" Langdon: "You always do this!"

As usual, Shen manages to jinx whatever team is unlucky enough to work his shift.

The elevator doors close with a jarring ding. The tightness in your belly flares again, but you grit your teeth and try to ignore it.

Jack and Robby stand by the doors, arms crossed, like they're guarding something precious.

You lean back against the cold metal walls, the tightening growing again, unable to find a position that's comfortable.

Even in this enclosed space, you can hear the wind howling from outside. The lights flicker, then, without warning, the power cuts out entirely, as the elevator halts to a stop.

You hear Robby curse as the emergency lights turn on, their blue glow casting everything in a surreal light. The elevator now feels even smaller, almost womb-like.

Fuck.

You groan softly, hoping Jack doesn’t catch on.

But of course, he does.

“What was that?” He turns to look directly at you, concern written across his face.

You avoid his gaze. “Nothing, I’m fine."

You say it so unconvincingly, you almost laugh at yourself.

“I can see that.” It's the same skeptical tone he uses with Santos and the other interns. It's charming actually.

“When did you start having contractions?” Robby asks, like he’s already claimed you as his patient.

You hesitate, but there's no point lying. “This morning.”

“You’re joking.” Jack is by your side in a heartbeat, torn between putting a hand on your belly or pulling out his stethoscope. Torn between being doctor, partner or father-to-be.

“I’m okay. Really.” You try to reassure him, gently touching his forearm.

That’s when you feel the warm liquid rushing down your legs, a puddle growing beneath you.

Jack and Robby's eyes drop to your feet, then up at each other. They exchange a look, no words needed. This is happening.

“I- I didn’t realize…” You breathe, dazed.

“You didn’t realize you were in pain?” Jack asks, incredulous.

“I’m always in pain, Jack", you bite back. “Ever since you knocked me up!”

You groan, turning around to lean your elbows against the wall, letting your head drop. Your breath is already ragged.

Jack’s hand finds your back, rubbing slow, grounding circles.

“I’m not having our baby in an elevator…” you pant.

“I’m afraid, we are, love.” Jack whispers gently, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead.

You let out another sharp groan.

“I need to examine you. Is that alright?” Jack’s voice shifts into professional gear. He pulls gloves from the pocket of his trousers, swiftly slipping them onto his hands.

You nod, squeezing your eyes tightly shut.

He lines up behind you, slipping a hand into the back of your scrubs and reaching down.

Once he’s measured with his fingers, Jack’s eyes flick up to find Robby’s, a mixture of panic and surprise flashing across his features.

Robby reads him instantly. He steps in without a word, steadying your shoulders. His grip is firm and reassuring.

“What?” You gasp.

Jack leans in close to your ear, voice soothing, but urgent. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your already burning cheek. “Honey, listen to me. We’re having this baby now.”

You groan again, louder this time.

Robby’s frown line softens, his lips forming a genuine smile. He and Jack share a warm look, full of excitement.

“No. No!” You shake your head. "Not here."

No prenatal bag. No birthing playlist. No epidural.

“I need to have a proper look, okay?” Jack says calmly, though his hands move quickly.

“Wonderful." You laugh through a groan. "This’ll make a great story for group therapy.”

Nothing says professional boundaries like giving birth in front of your boss.

“I won't look." Robby promises, quickly turning away. "But I am a doctor, you know", he chuckles.

"Not mine, you're not." Your lips form a playful smirk. "This will do wonders for your patient satisfaction scores", you add with a wink.

The air suddenly feels a bit lighter.

Jack kneels down, gently parting your legs and slipping your pants down to your knees.

His eyes widen, before whispering. "You're in active labour, baby", his voice softer now.

Robby doesn't hesitate, rushing to the elevator doors, trying to pry them open. With a metallic screech, they slide just wide enough for people to pass supplies and equipment through. But you haven’t quite reached the next floor.

“Not enough to get her out,” Jack mutters.

You lean forward and peek through the small opening.

Your cervix is probably bigger than that…

“Dana!” Robby yells.

Dana appears instantly, dropping to her stomach to peek inside. She finds you leaning against the wall, pants down, legs shaking. Jack holding you up.

“Jesus. Y’all got terrible timing you know that!”

“We need fresh gloves, blankets, a BOA kit, baby warmer, fetal monitor, anything you can pass through.” Robby orders.

Dana’s already on it, shouting over her shoulder.

Jack turns to you again. “Do you want to sit or get on your knees? What feels more comfortable?”

“I- I don’t think comfortable is the word I’d use right now." You groan. "Feels like I’m being split open front to back.”

“I know. I know." Jack’s hands are already guiding you down. "Let’s get you on the floor okay?”

You drop to all fours.

It’s so goddamn hot.

Your hair sticks to your face, salty water stinging in your eyes, the vein in your forehead threatening to pop.

You tug at your scrub top and Jack understands instantly, pulling it over your head. You sway back and forth, now only in your bra, nothing else.

Groaning. Panting. Cursing.

Jack is beside you, gently massaging your back. He moves with you, trying to match your rhythm.

He’s grateful Robby takes command, barking orders to the team above, in full doctor mode. Focused, clinical.

“You’re doing so good.” Jack whispers.

Another contraction rips through you.

Jack glances at his watch, then over to Robby, who places a surgical blanket on the floor, hooks you up to cables and machines to monitor your and the baby’s vitals.

You curse loudly. “What the hell did you do to me, Abbot!”

“I’m sorry. You can do this.” He takes your hand, squeezes. “Let's meet our boy.”

The next contraction comes fast, stealing your breath. Jack doesn’t need to look at his watch, he knows.

It’s time.

Robby positions himself behind you, breaking his earlier promise. But you forgive him, if it means having your husband by your side and not two doctors competing for who's running this.

“She’s crowning.” Robby announces. His hand applies gentle but firm pressure, to keep the baby from delivering too fast and to prevent tearing.

Jack’s hand trembles slightly in yours.

“Y/N, I can see the head. I need you to push on the next contraction okay?”

You nod your head, almost frantically.

Jack takes a deep breath, for both of you, instructing you to follow his rhythm.

A deep, guttural growl tears from your chest as you push.

And push again.

The sensation overwhelms you. The burning, the tingling, the stinging.

The ring of fire.

“That’s it. Catch your breath before the next one.” Robby's steady but kind voice anchors you. “I need one more big push. Three, two…”

Jack’s voice is soothing in your ear, but you barely register it. You’ve never experienced anything like it.

You’re not even fully in your body anymore.

How long has it been? Minutes? Hours?

You feel another contraction approaching, but Robby suddenly halts you.

“Stop. Y/N, don’t push! Not this time."

“I- I have to.” You groan, almost sobbing.

“No.” Robby's voice is low, sharp.

Jack’s head snaps up.

Something's wrong.

“Baby’s shoulder is stuck on your pelvic bone. I need to release it.”

Jack turns pale, tightening the grip on your arms, preparing for the inevitable.

“I’m sorry,” Robby mutters, but before you can react, his hand breaches your entrance.

The pain is unimaginable.

Is he rearranging your organs?

You scream into Jack’s chest, muffled and desperate. He tightens his arms around you, attempting to ease your pain.

“J- Jack…”

“I know, I know, I’ve got you.” Jack's voice breaks. “Robby…"

“Hang on…” He's still rummaging in there.

"I'm sorry", tears streaking down your face. You look up to find Jack's eyes. "This is my fault... I should've-"

“Look at me. Hey,” Jack says, commanding your gaze. “We’re okay. You hear me? You and me. We’ve got this.”

“What’s going on down there?” Dana shouts from above.

“I need you to lie on your back, Y/N” Robby instructs. But before you can register his words, Jack has already flipped you around. Your bottom lowered against the floor, Jack sliding behind you to brace you in his lap. His arms wrap around your legs, pulling them up and in.

“Lean into me, baby.” Jack’s voice is soft. He closes any distance between you. Practically melting into your body.

“Okay”, Robby breathes, applying suprapubic pressure. “Let’s take a deep breath.”

You feel his hands, firm against your lower abdomen, pushing the baby downward.

“Dana! Call Dr. Ingram, from the NICU, we need him.” Robby shouts towards the elevator doors.

You swallow hard. “Please... Please tell me I'm not having a fucking c-section in an elevator.”

Robby glances up briefly. His voice is low, focused. “Not planning on it.”

He reaches in again, one hand sliding beneath the baby’s head, working carefully to release the shoulder.

Another sharp stab rips through your abdomen. It feels like someone's clawing their way out from the inside, making your vision blur.

“Fuck Robby!" You cry out, voice breaking. "Please stop.”

Though you know he can't.

“Got it.” He suddenly announces. “On the next contraction, you push again.”

Your head feels light, but you know you can’t give up. Not now. Not yet.

3, 2, 1….

You push. With everything. Every muscle. Every breath. Every part of your being.

Until...

A sound cuts through the air.

Crying. Tiny, fragile, crying.

Not yours.

Not Jack’s.

Definitely not Robby’s.

Your eyes snap open. And there he is.

Your baby boy.

Robby lifts him carefully, umbilical still attached, assessing, drying and finally, placing him gently on your chest.

You can feel an unfamiliar but indescribable warmth flood you.

A sob escapes your lips, but this time not from pain.

You've never felt a love like this. Pure and sweet. Instant.

Jack leans in, showering your forehead in kisses, then your boy.

“You did so good, my love." Jack whispers. "So fucking good.” He wraps a blanket around you both, trying to shield you from the cold, from the storm, from everything.

Robby watches the three of you, his own emotions evident in the way his eyes glimmer in the light. He waits a few moments before he's back in professional mode, clamping the cord and letting Jack cut through it.

But they know it's not over. You do too.

You feel another contraction coming…

"The placenta", you murmur.

Robby nods. “One more push for me. Ready?”

He presses into your lower abdomen, a familiar pain ripping through you again.

“There we go." Robby says quietly. "Congratulations mom and dad.”

But...

The moment of bliss suddenly turns into horror.

The world around you starts to fade.

You feel Jack’s arms tense as Robby rips your baby from your chest, passing him through the narrow gap in the elevator doors to Dana’s waiting hands above. You feel the cold breeze against your exposed chest, the loss of warmth from your boy.

What the fuck is he doing? Skin-to-skin is supposed to be longer than this!

You want to argue. Shout at him, but your body won’t let you.

Why are you lying flat on the floor? Where's Jack?

You stare at the ceiling. Your heart starts to race.

You know what this means.

You hear Robby’s voice change. Tighter. Urgent. Then Jack’s voice joins him, both of them shifting into clinical, practiced motion.

Massive blood loss.

If they can’t stop it you’ll need a hysterectomy.

Or worse.

Their words are distant, blending into the chaos of your wandering mind.

“Spike a liter of saline.” “Starting uterine massage.” “Dana! Two units from the blood bank.” "Balloon is past the cervix."

Panic rises in your belly. It travels up to your chest, then your head.

Robby’s movement are frantic now. Jack's too, eyes wide with terror.

Their hands are on you, moving, pushing, pulling, trying to keep you from slipping away.

Jack drops to his knees beside you, instantly at your face, cupping your cheeks with gloved hands slick with sweat and... blood? “Hey,Y/N? Hey.”

You blink slowly, your breath shallow.

“What- what if we name him after my dad?” Jack suggests with an unserious grin.

His deadbeat, boys-don’t-cry, toxic-masculinity-in-person father?

Another time you’d have burst into laughter. And that’s what he’s trying for. A reaction. Anything.

You blink up at him, your lips twitching. It’s a fragile smile, but it’s real.

"Michael.” You whisper.

"I'm here", Robby reassures, working steadily.

No. You gesture weakly. "Th-the baby. Mikey for short."

There’s only one Robby, so that’s the next best thing.

You and Jack want Robby to be the godfather, though he doesn't know yet. He's an important person in both of your lives. And now he's brought your son into this world.

You're glad he's there. For you. And your boys.

Especially if this goes badly...

Jack snorts, but quickly realizes you’re serious. Robby's eyes widen.

“Yeah. I like that.” Jack says softly, nodding, overwhelmed with love and fear.

Jack gently places an oxygen mask over your face, hands trembling as he brushes the soaked hair from your forehead, trying to comfort you in any way he can.

Your eyes flutter open, finding his. Memorizing him.

Jack leans forward, pressing his forehead to yours, whispering things you don’t hear.

Then he feels it. The absence of your breath.

The stillness.

A moment frozen in time, reflecting the fragile balance between life and loss.

Jack's eyes shoot to Robby's, desperate.

But Robby doesn’t stop. Not for a second.

He’ll do whatever it takes to bring you back.

Back to Jack.

Back to your boys.

And he wiiilll. As promised, everyone lives. But I had to end it here - for the drama lolz... Pls lmk what you think <3

[pucking-rowdy]

will smith eating reader out while his family is downstairs

NSFW content below the cut (minors dni)

the chatter downstairs quieted, signaling that will’s parents had finally retreated to the guest room, the one you’d spent days preparing just for them. you’d slipped away nearly an hour earlier, feigning a migraine as you climbed the stairs to the bedroom you and will shared, your social battery long drained. will had caught your eye as you left, offering an apologetic glance and a quiet promise of “I’ll be up soon” before turning back to his dad, mid-sentence about how incredible the sharks’ practice facility was.

his parents had been lovely, really. his mom had entertained you with stories of will’s childhood, proudly swiping through an endless amount of baby will photos before sharing a few of his favorite family recipes. his dad, quieter but no less warm, had taken it upon himself to investigate the odd rattling sound coming from under your car’s hood, roping will in under the guise of father-son bonding.

it wasn’t your fault. you were ovulating, and will looked delicious. backwards hat, sleeves pushed up, arms flexed as he leaned over the engine, tongue caught between his teeth in a quiet focus. it was unfair. borderline criminal, how hot he looked just existing.

as if working on the car hadn't already been enough, your brain decided to replay will on the golf course yesterday, like a highlight reel designed specifically to worsen the ache between your thighs.

he wasn’t even good at golf, which made it worse somehow, like he had no right to look that attractive while slicing drives into the trees. but there he was, effortlessly cocky in a white polo that clung just right across his back, hat backwards yet again, and those too-tight khaki shorts that left nothing to the imagination.

you remembered watching him line up a putt, tongue peeking out in concentration, the same way it did when he was under the hood of your car, or when he was pounding that little spot inside you like he was trying to knock it loose, focused entirely on making you cum all over his cock.

it didn't take long for you to get bored of waiting for will, fingers diving beneath the soaked cotton of your panties. you knew, in the back of your mind, that will would be up soon. his nighttime routine was quick — face wash, brush his teeth, maybe check the score of a game on his phone. but you couldn't really bring yourself to care.

your fingers danced around your clit before finally sinking into your warm heat. you let out a soft sigh of relief, ignoring the sound of the bedroom door opening.

"migraine, huh?" will chuckles, voice strained as if he's already trying not to blow his load at the sight of you.

"tried waiting for you," you whine, fingers pumping in and out of your aching cunt. will shakes his head, eyes locked on the way your panties stretch with each thrust of your fingers. he tosses his hat to the top of the dresser, settling on his knees between your thighs. he grips your wrist, ignoring your whines of protest as he tugs your hand out of your underwear.

"shh, i've got you," he murmurs, shifting down as he presses soft kisses to your inner thighs. he lifts your legs, tugging them over his shoulders.

"what's got my girl all worked up, huh?" he mumbles, kissing the damp patch on your panties. he giggles as your hips buck, chasing his mouth.

"ovulating," you whine, chest rising and falling beneath the old t-shirt you'd stolen from his drawer.

"noted," he murmurs, hooking his fingers in the waist of your panties and tugging them down your thighs. you hastily kick them off, moaning softly as the cold air hits your soaking heat. will lets out a breathy laugh, running his index finger through your folds.

he's not patient enough to tease tonight, thank god. he leans down, tongue dragging through your folds like he's craving it. he's slow, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. his perfect nose nudges your clit, and you moan a little louder than he's comfortable with.

"you gotta be quiet, baby," he mumbles, thumbing comforting circles into your thighs. you nod frantically, eyes shut tight as you tug your bottom lip between your teeth, desperate to get his mouth back on your cunt.

his tongue swirls your clit before he takes it into his mouth, sucking on the bundle of nerves. your hands tighten in his hair, hips bucking against his mouth as you try to keep your noises down, vaguely conscious of his parents sleeping just downstairs.

he releases your clit, dipping his tongue into your entrance. you let out a soft gasp, writhing against the sheets. he hums against you, hands tightening their hold on your hips as he fucks his tongue into your dripping hole.

he finds the perfect rhythm, tongue swirling your spit-soaked, swollen clit, and fingers replacing his ministrations at your entrance. he pumps two digits into you, curling them into the spot that he knows so well.

"will, 'm gonna cum," you whimper, tugging at his blonde curls nestled between your fingers. his free hand interlocks with yours, giving you a soft squeeze of encouragement.

"cum for me, pretty girl," he mumbles, face buried deep in your pussy as he slurps and sucks. one more pump of his gorgeously long fingers sends you over the edge, back arching and hand ripping from his to cover your mouth, muffling the cries of his name. he works you through it, rubbing your hip as he eases you down from the high.

your back finally settles down onto the mattress again and he slowly pulls his fingers from your heat. he licks them clean, expression softening as you catch your breath. he leans over, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before silently heading to the bathroom. he returns a minute later with a damp washcloth, gently cleaning you up. he takes his time, careful to not overstimulate you.

once he's finished, he tosses the washcloth towards the hamper. he lays down, pulling you into his arms.

"go to sleep, pretty. i love you."

[alliwritespuck]

SOFT SUNDAY MORNING WILL SMITH

Summary: Will has a rare day off, and you know just the way to spend it

Warnings: none, just fluff, suggestive

Requested: No

Word count: 1.1k

Your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the low amount of light pouring in through the slats in the blinds, the sunrise giving the room a nice ambiance.

You stretch out the ache of a good night’s sleep from your muscles, yawning softly.

You turn to see Will, still sleeping soundly, breath coming out in rhythmic puffs. He looked so sound, so serene, you’d hate to disrupt the tranquility he was in.

You lean over, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. You get a low hum in response, full of sleep, not one made from someone in a waking state. You move to his forehead, pressing a kiss in the middle. He shifts a little. Still not what you’re looking for. You plant another gentle kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Mmm. What are you doing?” Will asks, voice a little raspy and thick with sleep. He was so attractive when he woke up, so soft and loving, made you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

“Just giving you some kisses. You want me to stop?” you ask, worried that you disturbed him too much.

“Never. Keep going,” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you to cuddle into his side.

Your lips find themselves by his right ear. You bite his earlobe lightly before trailing your lips down his jawline. You get a few more light hums and move to his collarbone, where you start out just placing light kisses.

And then you lightly bite him, not hard, not enough to leave any teeth marks or any hickeys, but just enough that he feels it, feels your love for him.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he says, lips moving against your forehead before placing a careful kiss to your hairline.

“Morning. Sleep well?”

“With you next to me? Of course I did.”

“You’re such a flirt.”

“Only for you,” he says, and the natural lull in the conversation leaves the room quiet. Not awkward, not eerie, not uncommon, just quiet.

The sound of the fan providing comforting air to the humid room, birds chirping outside. It all makes a peaceful setting.

“French toast for breakfast?”

“Mmm, sounds good,” you say, and sit up, ready to start the day.

You two walk into the kitchen, you in a pair of underwear and one of Will’s old BC Hockey shirts, and Will in a pair of sweats.

You make a cup of coffee, and while Will starts getting the ingredients for breakfast, you slip out to the back patio, the sunrise now brighter, but the sun still hasn’t quite made it over the horizon.

You sit down on the chair, listening to the sounds of nature. The birds, the wind rustling through the leaves on the trees.

You look down at the table, eyeing the book you’d accidentally left out from last night. You grabbed it, flipping through the book, finding the spot you’d left off at.

As you start reading, you try to immerse yourself into the characters, the setting. You try letting each word form a picture in your mind.

You are shaken out of your thoughts by Will’s hand actually shaking your shoulder.

“Hey. Space cadet, we’re on Earth.”

“No, really? I had no idea,” you say sarcastically, smiling warmly as he gives you an unimpressed look.

“Bacon okay with it?”

“Yeah. Need help?”

“Nope. You read. Done with this?” he asks, pointing to your now empty coffee cup.

“Mhmm. Thank you,” you say as he grabs the cup.

From where you’re sitting on the porch, you have a clear view of Will.

Will, who moves around the kitchen with something akin to grace. Will, who starts making breakfast for you two like he’s done so many times. Will, who holds a steady confidence, one you’d seen grow as your relationship developed.

You haven't always had the best luck with love. Always finding a guy that seemed right, but always at the wrong time, or finding guys with no good intentions.

You wanted a rom-com love story. You knew it was unlikely, because movies don’t display reality. But after meeting Will, you began to question if you’d been wrong about that notion.

Will loved you for you, despite your flaws and shortcomings. Will, who loved you loudly when you wanted it, and quietly when you needed it. Will, who had gotten to know you like the back of his hand. Will, who was an expert in hockey, but an even bigger and better expert in you.

You’d thanked your lucky stars that Will had stumbled into your life. And you’d prayed to them that he would never leave.

As you’re brought back to reality, you see him standing over the stove, continuing the endeavor of frying bacon.

You walk up behind him, arms wrapping around his waist, laying your head on his shoulder.

“Hi, baby. You okay?” he asks, and you melt into him.

“Yeah.”

You find a calm quietness between you two again.

“I love you,” you say. “So much. I’m so thankful that you were brought into my life. So thankful that I get to love you and receive your love. I want you in my life forever.”

“Y/N. I love you, too. Forever and always. I want you in my life forever, too.”

You press a kiss to his shoulder, smiling as he finishes the bacon. He puts the rest on a plate, setting the tongs down before turning in your grip.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re being a sap.”

“Oh, what? I’m not allowed to love you?” you ask teasingly.

“Never said that.”

“I just love you. You’re so good to me and I’m so lucky to have you.”

“I love you too, Y/N. I’m even luckier to have you,” he says, leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss. It’s soft, full of love, everything perfect.

“C’mon, let’s eat,” he says, moving away to grab two plates. “Go, sit. I’ll bring it to you.”

You watch him move, so effortless. And he looks so good doing it.

We ate in silence. Not awkward, not full of tension. Just a soft quietness, full of love.

You exchanged glances every now and then, small smile forming on your lips every time Will would catch your wandering eyes.

You loved Will dearly, but you feared you may never be able to articulate just how much you loved him.

But that’s another battle for another day. Right now, you were very content with spending the nice Sunday morning he had off with him. Doing absolutely nothing.

Please do not copy, translate, or repost my work as your own!

Written by: @alliwritespuck (2025)

Photo from: Pinterest

Dividers from: @enchanthings

[perreqult]

YOU’LL CATCH ME, RIGHT? ✶ will smith

REQUEST BY: anon !

summary: will finally decides to take you skating, bad news— you’re terrible at it

word count: 0.8k

contains: fluff, swearing, think that’s it

“You’ll catch me if I fall, right?” You ask. To will it’s a stupid question. “Of course I would. I’m not letting you get hurt, don’t worry.” He replies, looking over at you as he pulls into the rink and parks.

“If I fall and you don’t catch me i’m gonna be pissed, just letting you know.” You say, letting out a giggle and Will doing the same.

“Oook.” He fires back, jokingly rolling his eyes. “Now c’mon, let’s go.” He adds, rushing out the car to open your side of the door.

You walk into the rink, a place that you’ve become very familiar with as you’ve started to go to Wills games just recently. You thought you’ve gotten accustomed to it by now but the chill still lingers and runs down your spine.

You’re putting on skates— that you haven’t even worn yet, but to be fair you’ve never worn any type of skates.

As you’re attempting to tie them, Will interrupts you. “Don’t worry, I got it, Baby.” He gets down on his knees infront of the bench you’re sitting at and begins to tie your skates for you.

He always likes to do things like this for you, this could range from anything— closing the clasp of your necklace, getting your car door for you, anything he could help with, he does.

“Will, you don’t have to do that, I got it.” You tell him, looking down at Will, giggling at his focused he looks and making sure your skates are extra stable and tight.

“I want to.” He says it blankly, like it’s his job to. It’s cute, he’s like the most polite, gentlemanly guy you’ve ever met.

“Alright, all tied up. Ya ready?” He asks, finished tying and getting up from his knees. “You better catch me if I fall.” You say, standing up to match him. “I wound let you fall.” He tells you, plopping his hands down on your shoulders, trying to convince you.

“Just hold on to me, babe.” Will says while holding you close, trying his best to not let you fall.

You’re finally on the ice and he’s hugging you tight to his body, assuring you don’t slip. As much as you trust him, you feel like you’re gonna faceplant and you’ve only stepped one foot on the ice.

“C’mon, don’t be scared. I got ya.” Will looks at you again and you two lock eyes. You know he will, it’s not him you don’t trust, it’s yourself.

Unfortunately, Wills cute face persuades you into finally getting out onto the ice, he’s telling you what to do, you try to listen to him but you end up immediately toe picking. You wish you could say it’s wasn’t a bad fall but it definitely was. You brace yourself for a spill, completely forgetting Will’s there.

He grabs your waist and pulls you into him, halting your plummet. “Oh God, are you ok?” He looks so worried. He looks extra cute when he’s worried, his brows furrowing and stitching together.

“Uh, yeah.” You reply nervously, looking around to figure out if anybody saw you almost wipeout— forgetting Will got you two private ice time.

“How ‘bout we go extra slow?” He suggests. “Please. I’m clearly terrible at this.” You tell him, giving a joking pout.

You almost fall 4 more times in the span of 30 minutes, Will saving you each and everytime. “Yeah, I hate this.” You tell him after you almost lose your footing again. “Don’t be so down, you’re doing amazing.” You know he’s lying so you don’t feel bad.

You give him a look, a look he knows all too well when he tells you a white lie. “Ok, you’re not that bad. You’re too hard on yourself.” He says, laughing as he knows he caught.

“Just shut up, I’d like for my boyfriend to not lie to me while I’m busting my ass at a record pace.” You both burst out in laughter.

“I’m cute though, you can’t try and silence me.” He tells you with a giggle. He is, at the very least he’s not lying anymore.

By the time your ice time is up, you are fully ready to go home, go to lunch, literally anything that isn’t skating.

“I really don’t understand how you enjoy that so much to make a career out of it.” You say as you step into his car, him holding the door open for you before walking around to his own door. He laughs and shakes his head at what you say.

“The difference is, U’m actually kind of good at it.” He jokes with you. “Normally I would tell you to shut up but I think you might be right for once.” The two of you laugh with each other again.

As you open the door to your apartment and stumble in you feel so much more relaxed than you do skating.

“I’m never going skating with you again.” You say, jokingly pointing to him. He just laughs and shakes his head, leaning back against your kitchen counter.

[httpuckdrop]

closer – ws2

when you say you want will close, it's not enough to have him just next to you.

pairing: will smith x reader

genre: smut/fluff, established relationship!au

word count: 0.9k

warnings: very light smut, cockwarming

author's note: happy birthday sweet sweet boy <333 i was supposed to post a longer smut but i didn't have time to finish that aaaaaa :( anyways! hope you enjoy and hope you have a lovely day celebrating this wonderful holiday 🥰

you're already fast asleep in will's bed when he comes home.

it's much later than he had hoped, but there was an issue at the airport delaying the team from coming home. he hadn't expected you to be up waiting for him, but there's still something in his chest that tightens at the sight of you under his covers, body curled up and eyes fluttered shut.

he toes off his shoes with the grace of a man who's done this far too many times, before dropping his bag by the door, careful to not make any sounds – and then he screws up anyway by slamming his toe into the bed frame and hissing out a curse. he instantly prays that you won't have woken you up, but you've never really been a heavy sleeper. "will?"

your voice is thick with sleep, honeyed and slow, and his heart flutters at the sound of it. "sorry, baby," he whispers, already bowing down to kiss your cheek. "go back to sleep."

you hum, eyes unable to stay open for more than a few seconds at a time. "get in here. missed you so much." will just chuckles but obliges, pulling his sweatshirt over his head and stepping out of his jeans as quickly as he can before slipping into bed next to you. his hands reach for your sides, pulling you flush against him.

"missed you, too," he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. you grunt in disapproval, though, signaling that it wasn't enough, so will laces his lips with yours instead.

will should've known from the moment your lips touched his; he should've realized what kind of mood you're in. instead, it takes him until the moment you bite down on his bottom lip and your hands wander south, fingers tracing the hem of his boxers, for him to understand your intentions.

he can't help but chuckle against your lips. he says your name in a tone that makes it sound like a warning, yet you don't care. "you're barely even awake, you don't have enough energy for this."

you whine. "but i want you." you give him your best puppy eyes. "i need you. need to... feel you close."

"i'm already pressed up to you, i think i'm plenty close."

you let out yet another impatient sound. "need you closer. need to know that you're here. spent two days without you… so i need you as close as you can be."

and that's when it clicks in his brain.

it's not sex you want, no lovemaking or quickie. it's not an orgasm or the sexual aspect of it that you're seeking; it's the intimate aspect. the reminder that he's real and yours.

and there's nothing in this world he'd rather do than reassure you of that.

he kisses you again, lips already parted and tongues brushing tongues. it's slow and warm, your mouths melding together like that's what they were made for. your fingers skim across the slight stubble of his jaw before brushing through his curls, hand settling at the back of his head.

when his hands move down to your hips, he isn't surprised to find that you didn't wear any underwear to bed. he merely smiles, running his fingers down the front of your thighs and then the insides. his face parts just an inch from yours, breathing heavily against your lips as he lets two fingers trail along your slit. "do you need me to..."

you open one eye to meet his gaze as you shake your head, or as much of a shake you can manage with your head nuzzled into the pillow. you're too tired to waste any time. "just need you inside me," you whisper.

will doesn't waste any time, pulling his boxers off and throwing them off the bed. one hand settles on your hip, helping guide you forward and sliding you down over his length.

a deep sigh leaves your lips, mixing with the groan slipping past will's, and he soon withdraws his cock before bottoming you out again. he stretches you out so deliciously, making your head tip back and giving him full access to the skin of your throat.

in these moments, you realize how strange it is that you're able to go on with your days without having him inside you. like this, you feel complete instead of empty; like your last puzzle piece has slotted into place.

you clench around him involuntarily, enveloping him in your warmth and sending a shiver down his spine. will trails kisses down the side of your neck and slips his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. he could just as well push you onto your back and fuck you silly now – but your breath is so steady, your eyelids too heavy, and he knows that it won't take long before you're out. this is all you wanted right now, anyway; maybe something more could happen tomorrow morning, but as of right now, this is enough.

his mouth find yours one more time and it's gentle enough to lull you into a sweet slumber. the last thing you have energy for is a murmur, a soft "love you, will" against his lips. while you might not hear him say it back, you feel it through your body; your heart responds by drumming a little more steadily, your skin tingling where he draws idle patterns along your skin. and you surrender to sleep with the knowledge that will's heartbeat beneath your palm is for no one other than you.

[uluvjay]

Unexpected- W. Smith

Will Smith x Hughes! Sister

In which your brothers were not expecting to find a boy in your bed when they came to visit

Warnings?; cursing, anxiety, judgmental brothers, fluff, sorry for any errors!

“Dude just use your key.” Quinn grumbled to Jack as he continued to knock on your apartment door.

“I don’t want to invade her privacy.” Jack huffed.

“She came into our apartment to surprise us that one time.” Luke shrugged reminding his brother of the time they came home to find you on their couch.

“What if she’s like-i don’t know..not decent?” Jack cringed.

“Oh my god-move, I’ll just use mine.” Quinn huffed as he pushed his younger brother out of the way.

The boys had been texting you nonstop attempting to get an answer from you especially after their consistent knocking hadn’t worked and Quinn was tired of waiting.

Jack and Luke played the bruins in two days and having a short gap in his schedule Quinn decided to join his brothers on a surprise visit to their baby sister before he had to return to a hectic season.

Pushing open the sleek door of your apartment they were met with your natural vanilla scent, by the door was your messy shoe rack, umbrellas, coats, your keys on a hook, and hockey sticks-wait, why the hell would you have that many hockey sticks?

“Why does she hav-ow what the?” Luke began but was cut off as his foot came into contact with a hefty hockey bag and he went stumbling forward.

“Umm..why the hell is there usa hockey bag in her entryway?” Jack questioned, looking between his brothers with a raised eyebrow.

“The fuck are you asking us for?” Quinn spoke quietly.

“Why are you whispering?”

“Because you dumbass her keys are here, which means she’s probably sleeping still.” Quinn replied.

The boys looked around your apartment a bit more, keeping quiet as they walked through the living room area and kitchen.

Jack and Quinn knew the layout well as this was their graduation gift towards you, they felt unsafe with you living on campus and despite your protests when you opened the box revealing keys, you had been living here since the fall.

“Uh guys..there’s a gold medal on her living room table.” Luke choked.

“What?” Jack asked as he rushed in from the kitchen.

Meeting his brothers in the living room his eyes met the good medal that was in fact sitting pretty in the middle of your coffee table.

“Usa bag, sticks, and a gold medal? Shes dating one of the Bc guys that just won at world juniors. She has to be.” Luke laughed looking up at his older brothers.

Jack was the first to take off down the hall and towards your cracked bedroom door, both defensemen following closely behind him.

Quietly pushing your door open they found you asleep on your back, a Boston college hockey shirt on, thank god Jack thought.

And on your chest was a head of blonde curls, one of your hands resting on the boys shoulder peacefully while one of his arms was thrown around your waist.

Retreating to your living room the three men huddled together.

“He looks familiar.” Jack spoke up.

“His name is will something, he just got drafted.” Luke confirmed remembering his face from the draft.

“It’s Will smith. He went fourth overall to the sharks.” Quinn spoke showing his brothers the boy’s Instagram page.

“What do we do now?” Luke questioned, not sure where they should go from here.

“We wait.” Jack smirked and moved to make himself comfortable on your large sectional.

-

A little over an hour later they heard soft voices coming from your room, quite good mornings and the sound of lips connecting.

“Breakfast?” They heard you question and will confirm with a soft yeah.

Making your way out of your bedroom and down the hall you felt your heart drop into your stomach and a scream escape at the sight of three large figures sat on your couch.

“What the hell are you doing here!?” You shrieked once you realized it was your brothers.

“Came to see you, why? Is there something your hiding from us?” Jack smirked as his eyes dropped from you to gold medal on your table and back to you.

You followed his eyesight and worry filled you as you remembered that your boyfriend, who was fresh out of Sweden had all of his things here, the boyfriend your brothers also have no idea about.

“Shit. J-just give me a second.” You groaned as you turned around and pushed a curious Will back into your room before shutting the door.

“Everything okay?” He questioned as the noticeable worry etched on your face.

“My brothers are here.” You spoke quietly.

“Your brothers? As in all three?” Will asked.

“Yep.” You spoke popping the ‘p’ before continuing.

“Came to surprise me, turns out they were a bit more surprised when they found all of your usa stuff.” You laughed.

“Wh-what uh, what are we going to do?” He coughed.

It’s not that Will was necessarily scared of your brothers, he’d already met your parents and talked to your dad regularly about hockey. But brothers are different, especially your brothers. You four have a bond he’s never seen before and the protectiveness they have over you is strong.

“You’re going to have to come out and meet them.” You shrugged.

“Right now?”

“No tomorrow at four. Yes right now will! They’re literally sitting in my living room waiting.” You spoke.

“Okay.” He breathed.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, let’s do this” he nodded confidently.

“I love you and you know I wont let them kill your right?” You laughed as you took his cheeks into your hands.

“I know, I love you too.” He smiled and you placed a light kiss on his lips before turning around and leading him into your living room.

To say the sight In front of him wasn’t intimidating wouldn’t be a lie, despite being around the same height as all three men their broody stance snd interrogating stares had will feeling a bit nervous.

The three nhl stars were dressed in all black, hoodies, joggers, and beanies as they stood around the living room table looking Will up and down.

“Boys this is my boyfriend Will, Will these are my brothers, Jack, Quinn, and Lukey.” You smiled.

Despite the circumstances you were happy to have your brothers here and it felt good to be back in their presence.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Will smiled as he reached a hand out.

All three looked at his hand but Quinn was the first to move in and shake it, locking wills hand in a tight grip.

The other two followed after Quinn, their grips just as if not tighter around Wills hand. You could see the gears turning in Luke’s head and that soon questions would be flying out left and right, and before you started to answer them you needed food.

“Why don’t we talk over breakfast? There’s an amazing place down the street.” You suggested and thankfully everyone agreed to a nice meal.

-

Forty-five minutes later you were all gathered at a table at the small restaurant down the road, coffees in your brothers hands while you and Will both chose a nice glass of Oj.

“So” Quinn coughed, “how’d you two meet?”

“Izzy is dating his friend Ryan, they introduced us and we hit it off pretty well so we exchanged numbers and went on a few dates. The rest was history after that.” You smiled.

Izzy was your best friend from back home, the boys knew her so well she was practically another sister to them and she was a big contributor to your decision to come to Boston college instead of Umich.

“Hmm, where’d you take her for the first date?” Luke spoke up.

“Mini golf, got my ass kicked though. Didn’t realize someone could be so good at it.” Will laughed at the memory.

“Y/n is an amazing golfer, she does it quite a bit over the summers.” Jack nodded.

“Best in the family i’d say.” You smirked.

“Okay don’t get ahead of yourself now.” Luke scoffed.

“So you’re a sharks prospect right?” Jack asked.

“Uh yeah, they drafted me this past spring.” Will smiled.

The questions kept up until the food came, but they began to get more relaxed and generic after a while. The boys began to asked will more about school and how it was a world juniors and soon they were all sharing laughs.

“You know, that wasn’t really the way I wanted to find out my baby sister had a boyfriend but you’re a cool kid Will.” Quinn smiled.

“Thank you, she’s amazing. Out my league really.” Will blushed as you elbowed him in his side.

“That’s true, but as long as you treat her right and make her happy then we like you.” Jack spoke softly.

“But don’t think we won’t flatten your ass out on the ice if you ever hurt her.” Luke smirked.

Will nodded with a winded expression and and awkward silence crowded the table before the ringing of Quinn’s phone broke through.

“Oh, it’s mom.” He smirked right at Will and it took everything in you to hold down your laugh.

“Hey mom!” He greeted her warmly.

“Hi sweetie, just checking if you got into your sisters.” She spoke.

“Oh yeah we got in, found quite the surprise to.” Jack laughed.

“Oh really? What happened.”

Quinn turned the screen around to show your mother Will and while they were all expecting her to freak out their expressions dropped the second they heard her voice.

“Will! How are you doing honey?” She asked excitedly.

“I’m good Mrs. Hughes, how about you.” Your boyfriend smiled.

“Oh I told you to knock that Mrs. Hughes off! I’m good though honey thank you for asking.” She smiled.

“Let me find Jim really fast, he’ll want to say hi.” Your mother spoke up.

You released a giggle at the shock and confusion that was written on your brother’s faces. Their eyebrows were all pulled together as they shared a look of confusion.

“Will! How are you buddy.” Your father greeted.

“I’m good Jim, how about you?”

“I’m good son, my boys haven’t given you and my girl any trouble have they?”Your father questioned.

“No, it’s been okay.” Will laughed.

The conversation kept up for a moment but your mother ultimately decided to hang up when Jack kept whining about her not telling them you had a boyfriend.

“I can’t believe they knew!” He groaned.

“I told them first, wanted to make sure they liked him.” You shrugged.

“This is unbelievable.” He pouted and that’s how the rest of your day continued until your mom apologized and offered to bake him his favorite homemade goods the next time she visited.

-



[perreqult]

DEAR GOD ✶ WILL SMITH

summary: it’s pretty hard to forget Will when he’s everywhere you are

word count: 1.4k (maybe a little more i counted before i continued more)

contains: smut (p in v— unprotected don’t do that), screwing your ex (i’m self projecting), missing your ex and being in denial about it, swearing, drinking, think that’s it

notes: i miss my frat boy situationship from freshman year

not proofread, expect mistakes

Working for the sharks didn’t seem too bad when you and Will were dating, but Lord was it aggravating to when you and Will had been broken up for a while.

The worst part were the stolen glances and awkward interactions. Let alone Macklin shamelessly staring at you. No matter where in San Jose you went, Will and his stupid pretty face followed you, haunted you.

Your mind has been flooded with everything about him. His smile, his voice, his body that you remember like it’s yours. Fuck, you miss that part of him— ‘Oh my God stopping thinking about that’, you tell yourself. It sure as hell doesn’t work.

You do try to forget him, it just fails. Every thought you have leads back to him, and it really doesn’t help that you two see eachother on a daily basis.

Forced interactions that couldn’t be described as anything but awkward should be considered torture. Every single uncomfortable “Hey.” that’s uttered out you think you miss him even more.

Does he miss you this way? You’re guessing the answer is no based on the fact he looks like he wants to die when you two have to talk.

Did you really think you’d be at a party one of Will’s teammates threw tonight? No. Are you, though? Yes. And so far it’s sucked.

Corny music is blasting in your ears from possibly the loudest speakers of all time, it’s hot and humid, and worst of all— Will is right next to you. You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t the most awkward experience of your life

You’re really only still in that spot— or at this party at all— because your friend decided that you can get over your emotions towards Will for the night and can get along with her friends. Who may or may not be Will’s friends.

Eklund offers you a round of beer pong and you use that as your escape to get anywhere Smitty isn’t. Even as you’re tossing the pong ball across the table set up you can’t help but think of him.

It would be a lot easier to forget him if you didn’t see him everywhere. You wanted nothing more than to say you forgot about him, you hate him, you don’t think about him every waking second, but if you did those would all be lies.

You’ve even thought about praying to whoever’s out there to let you forget him. Let you not think of him and his stupid dick when you’re lying on your bed.

You snap out of your haze of reminiscing him just in time for— you guessed it— to walk over to the table you and Eklund were at.

“Ah, Smitty. You have to ignore this round. She’s kicking my ass.” He laughs out, pointing at the cups scattered across the flat plastic foldable table. Will responds with a chuckle.

Embarrassment rushes through your body, it should, your ex— who you think about way too much— is standing less than 10 feet away from you, laughing. And fuck he looks perfect.

You’re staring. You know it. All you hope is that he doesn’t notice. Unfortunately your luck gave out tonight and he notices, he definitely does. He nods at you and smiles awkwardly. Is it possible for you to get more flustered? Right now you don’t think so.

“You know what? I tap out. Smitty you sub in for me, alright?” He tells him with a friendly pat on his back drunkenly. Yeah no, it was definitely possible to get more embarrassed.

“Sure.” Your heart practically sinks. One part of your mind says “Can he leave me alone?” and the other says, “Can he never leave me alone again” maybe it’s the alcohol making you indecisive.

You win but you don’t say anything the entire game. He’s acting a lot more relaxed now. This is the first time you can say drunk interactions with people are easier than when they’re sober.

“Y’alight?” He asks, breaking the weird silence between the two of you. All you can do is just nod again. You’re trying to blame it on being drunk but you know that’s not the truth. He flashes you a puzzled look but shakes it off like he knows you’re lying.

It’s because your thoughts about him, your dreams about him, the way you still love him.

“I… I’m gonna go with my friends.” You sputter out, not even looking him in the eyes as you say it, ready to leave, to not have any more memories of him you’ll eventually miss.

“I still love you by the way.” He blurts out. You’re expecting him to have some surprised look on his face, mirroring the one you have plastered all over yours. He doesn’t. He’s serious. You can tell.

“What?” Is what stumbled its way out your lips. You’re frozen in shock, whipping your head back to face him.

“I do.” He adds on, sure you don’t believe him. You don’t. He’s either been acting like you don’t exist or acting like you’re the most disgusting person on earth.

You don’t even respond. You do the first thing that pops into your drunken, hazed, mind. You kiss him. Oh God why did you do that? At the very least, Will doesn’t pull back in disgust and kisses back.

When he pulls back to breathe you already know he’s gonna say something stupid. “You gonna stop acting like you hate me now?” There it is. You hate that he’s right and you hate that you’re there right now. So what now, you fuck your ex? What if he’s just drunk and he’s gonna avoid you as soon as you drift out of his bed.

“Just shut up.” You tell him before grilling his face to pull him back into the kiss, particularly aggressively Will notes.

You probably shouldn’t be in his bedroom right now, should you? But you are. You’re slipping your dress off swiftly, almost giving you flashbacks to your relationship.

He looks at you with a grin that can only described as smug as he catches you staring at him as he yanks down his pants.

“Looks like you’ve missed me.” You tells you, pointing with his eyes at your soaked panties. Fuck. He’s right. Why is he always right about you?

You climb up onto his bed in a way that you remember all too well, pushing your weight onto your elbows as you eye him, pushing his boxers off to free his cock.

It’s not surprising that you remember it— hell, you’ve been thinking about it the past 4 months, why wouldn’t you?

You snap out of your subspace, drowned in thoughts, when he climbs up onto you, staring down at you. Yet again, that fucking smirk. God, he is hot.

He’s lined up to your dripping entrance, tip prodding at your hole. There’s some sort of intimate silence that lies in his bedroom. Maybe it’s the way your mind is filled with the memories you’ve been trying to forget.

“You ready?” He asks. You nod, way too quickly. He almost laughs— God, you were eager. As he dips into your soaking heat, he mumbles “Missed you.”, letting out an almost silent moan, slightly tipping his head back. You, on the other hand, cry out in pleasure. You hate to think this again, but God you missed him. A lot.

He takes the silent cue of you gripping his shoulders, pulling him deeper to start pistoning in and out of your drenched cunt. You try your best to quiet yourself down, for Will’s floor neighbor’s sake. It would be a terrible lie to say it actually worked. You were moaning in bliss as he went back and forth through your walls.

“Fuck.” You yelled as he hit that perfect spot in your hole that makes you go crazy. Will’s groans and low moans grow loader, gripping your hips tight— almost hard enough to leave marks— each time he slams back into your cunt.

“Anybody else fuck you like this?” He asks through a husky voice, starting to pump into you at a fast, rough pace. You can even fight the urge to cry out.

“Oh—Fuck… Haven’t fucked anyone else.” You sputter out through moans, your eyes rolling back into your skull. He groans out, a sly smile slipping across his face.

“Don’t gotta worry about that ‘nymore, huh?” He tells you through—deeper than usual— sultry voice. You wail out in undeniable bliss in a way that had to have boosted Will’s ego. You know it does when his smile goes wider.

Your mind practically goes blank, left in a blissed out subspace by the time you’re reaching your orgasm.

“Mmm, fuck.” You stutter out, feeling your peak grow closer. Will’s thrusts grow more and more sporadic, he’s close to. You know his body.

“Mm, gonna make me come.” He whispers into your ear, speeding up his thrusts, something you didn’t think was possible. That’s what throws you over the edge, your orgasm washing over you as you wail out.

He reaches his soon after, slowing down his thrusts so he’s left still, pulling you tight. “Missed you too.” He mutters. You’re too fucked out to care what he says at this point, you’ll talk in the morning.

“I didn’t miss you at all, Smitty.” You tell him, lying through your teeth. He just rolls his eyes, he knows you’re lying, pulling out of your heat slowly.

He rolls over to appear at your side and pulls you tightly next to him. You would say you forgot how nice it felt to sleep next to him, but you didn’t. You remembered it every night when you had to live without him.

[httpuckdrop]

surprise! – ws2

in which will comes back from a road trip to the best surprise ever.

pairing: will smith x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship!au

word count: 1.5k

warnings: hmm suggestive mentions

author's note: aaaa will will will !!!! sped-wrote this on the subway to school today lmao. will will will <3 do well tomorrow pls <3<3(i will love you either way)<3<3 (oh and the tattoo pic is just for the location! couldnt find a pic for what i was looking for but i think you get it!!)

will has never been the biggest fan of surprises.

instantly, when he hears even the word "surprise", a lump forms in his stomach. he's far too used to bad pranks and letdowns; plus, if it's actually a positive one, he has a habit of feeling like he doesn't quite deserve the surprise he's given. in conclusion, he usually gently declines when offered a surprise.

however, the second his eyelids flutter open this morning, he sees the sweetest surprise he's ever gotten. it's you, laid in his bed, with your head on his pillows.

you weren't there when he went to sleep about seven hours ago.

will has just been away for a longer road trip, and the team was supposed to arrive back home yesterday evening – but their plane got delayed, and he couldn't get back to his apartment until well past midnight. he had to reschedule the welcome home-dinner to 24 hours later, and you'd told him that you had a busy day in uni and couldn't see him until then. needless to say, he had not expected to see you here and now.

there's no better view to wake up to, will thinks every time he finds you in his bed. your tousled hair on the pillow, your slightly parted lips, your rosy cheeks… you're something surreal, like a goddess sent from above, a true blessing to his life. he's never been so thankful for anything in his life.

his instincts take over and he can't hold back from reaching forward with his hand, letting the palm of his hand smooth over your cheek and jaw, before ending up at the back of your head, fingers tangled in your locks. he knows you're still fast asleep and he doesn't want to wake you – you've been working so hard recently that every hour is important – but he really can't stop himself from pulling your head closer, meeting you halfway and pressing a featherlight kiss to your forehead. as much as he regrets his actions when your eyes begin to open, he's also thankful because when those sweet pearls look into his eyes, a jolt of excitement shoots up his spine.

"will?" you ask softly, blinking as you regain consciousness.

he chuckles at this. "you're the one who came into my bed when i had no idea," he says with a grin. "i'm the one supposed to be confused here."

a giggle flies from your lips and your eyes flutter shut again. "touché." you lean forward a little, letting your face nuzzle into the skin of his neck. "but you've been gone so long… i barely even remember what you look like."

"guess we have to refresh your cute little brain, hm?" you feel his adam's apple bob when he speaks, and it makes you sigh from content.

he's actually here. he's back. back in your arms, in your eyesight, in your life.

life tends to get so bleak without him. or, maybe it's better to twist it the other way: everything gets so colorful with him. the gray skies, that boring bowl of yogurt for breakfast, the routine errands. with will, it's all so much more bearable. every day is full of excitement, warmth, love.

he reaches for your sides, big hands wrapping over your curves under his old boston college-shirt you're wearing. when you finally retrieve your face from his skin, he instantly captures your lips in a slow and lazy kiss. you brush a hand through his hair, feeling the softness of his strands between your digits, and oh how badly you've missed this. his curls, his lips, his skin. the tender touch of his fingers as they trail higher and higher, the little sounds of pleasure he's unable to hold back, the taste of his lips, his natural scent combined with the lemony detergent he uses on his bedding. it all takes over your senses; everything you can think, feel and breathe is him.

you push him onto his back, climbing on top of him and straddling his hips, though not once separating your lips from his. the kiss is soft and unhurried; his lips move against yours with a tenderness that makes your heart race. it starts out as a sweet, slow kiss but quickly becomes more heated and passionate the longer it goes on. you can already feel his excitement poke up at you from below, and you can't help but grind down ever so softly against him. he grunts against your mouth, his hands on your hips suddenly gripping a little tighter and helping you repeat the action as he deepens the kiss. his tongue finds its way into your mouth, meeting yours and you can swear you feel lightning pass through your body.

it takes everything you have to pull away. he chases your lips when you do, but your hands on his shoulders pin him back down against the mattress. "i have a surprise for you," you breathe out.

usually, those words trigger a certain type of emotion in him – but that's not the case when they fall from your lips.

will has come to learn that when you're the one who has a surprise for him, it's always good. well, everything that has anything to do with you is good, he thinks; but when it comes to you, he has a different type of trust. the words even bring a smile to his lips this time. "you being here is enough of a surprise," he says, though he doesn't mind the way you sit back. his eyes follow your every little movement carefully, eyes widening when you reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, leaving you in just a white, lacy bra. it's not a new one – will has seen it plenty of times before – but it still has his heart racing. "well, i can't say i hate this type of surprise…"

you scoff at him and consider flipping him before you decide against it. instead, you let your hands wander to your back, unhooking the clasp and letting your bra slide down your arms and off your body.

will's breath hitches in his throat, and he finds himself wishing that time could pass by slower. he could spend all day just staring at your tits and not get bored for one second. his hands travel up from your hips, unable to think about anything other than feeling the softness of your skin, the bump of your nipples under the pads of his thumbs, the weight and roundness against his palms. unfortunately, you swat his hands away, sighing. "you can't be patient for just a second, huh?" you complain.

will just shrugs, hands wrapping around your waist again as he watches you throw the bra onto the floor. "you're just too-" he cuts himself off when you turn your upper body slightly, arms reaching over your head to give him a proper view of his surprise. "what the fuck…"

again, he can't hold back from touching you, but you don't stop him this time. his eyes have zoned in on the upper part of your ribs, right on the side of your breasts, where he sees it.

a little tattoo. #2.

he can't pull his reverent gaze from it, thumb brushing over the ink softly. it's easy to tell that about a million questions are swirling inside his little brain, but he settles for just a few. "a-are you kidding? how- you-" he stutters, looking like a toddler who's just seen a unicorn for the first time, and you're amazed that you could get this much of a reaction from just a little ink. "when did you get this done? how is it healed already? does this hurt?"

you giggle. "it's a little sore, but it doesn't hurt," you tell him. "you've been gone so long that i had plenty of time to get it done and let it heal. been dying to tell you about it- almost sent you pictures a week ago."

"good thing you didn't," he says, eyes flickering up to yours for just a moment before looking back down again. "i would've been an awful teammate. locked up in my room all the time… thinking about you even on the ice…"

he pulls you up a little so that you're seated on his stomach instead, just so he can tilt his neck up to press a kiss to the tattoo. a sigh leaves your lips and your eyes flutter closed.

"this is so fucking hot, you know that, right?" his lips brush against your skin again, very gentle since he's still a little scared of causing you pain, but he just can't stay away. "you're going to drive me crazy. i'm not sure if you'll ever be allowed to leave this bed."

"sounds fair to me."

[nylqnder]

BUTTERFINGERS WILL SMITH

pairing: fem!reader x will smith

summary: will's quiet protectiveness over you begins to make you feel as though he's more than a friend.

warnings: will getting injured, friends to lovers, reader being a butterfingers/clumsy, bit of language

wc: 2.89k

notes: i can't get over will just automatically protecting you from things and just knowing you're going to bump your head or drop something.

Will had silently taken on the role of guardian against your own clumsiness.

As he got to know you, Will observed your accident-prone habits — the way you would unknowingly leave cabinet doors open at forehead level, how your phone always seemed to be on the verge of slipping from your grasp, and the countless times you misjudged the distance between your toe and the corner of the coffee table. He adapted in subtle, almost imperceptible ways, weaving his quiet vigilance into the rhythm of daily life.

At first, it was little things. He’d casually nudge a cup away from the table’s edge when you weren’t looking or intercept your phone mid-fall with reflexes so swift it seemed like a coincidence. If you were carrying too many things at once, he’d wordlessly take the heavier items from your hands before you had the chance to protest — or inevitably drop something.

Over time, his protective instincts became second nature. He walked slightly ahead of you when you were distracted, steering you gently away from uneven pavement or sudden steps. He started keeping a steadying hand near your back when you climbed stairs, ready to catch you if your balance faltered. Whenever you cooked, he subtly repositioned knives and hot pans out of your unknowing danger zone, and if you reached for something on a high shelf, he was already there, retrieving it before you had the chance to teeter on your tiptoes precariously

Even his speech patterns adjusted. A soft “watch your step” would precede any tricky curb, and a quiet “careful” would slip from his lips whenever you absentmindedly swung your arms too close to a fragile object. He never made a big deal out of it, never teased or sighed in exasperation. He simply adapted — anticipating, adjusting, protecting.

And perhaps the most telling thing of all was how effortless it became for him. As if watching over you wasn’t a responsibility, but rather something as natural as breathing.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. Will was observant by nature, careful in a way that contrasted your absentminded chaos, so his small interventions felt like an extension of who he was rather than something particular to you. But then, you began to notice — really notice.

Like the way he always positioned himself between you and the street when you walked together, his body a quiet barrier against the rush of passing cars. Or the way he would always get the door for you, seeing as you always get it wrong — pulling it when it’s a push, or pushing it when it’s a pull, which always resulted in you smacking into the door.

It wasn’t just his actions, but the way they made you feel. Safe. Not in the dramatic, swept-off-your-feet kind of way, but in the quiet, steady assurance that came with knowing someone was looking out for you — not because they had to, but because they wanted to.

And that was the thing about Will. He never laughed when you tripped over nothing or sighed when you dropped your phone for the millionth time, resulting in a new crack on your screen. He didn’t roll his eyes when you forgot where you put your keys for the third time in a day. Instead, he’d hand them to you with a soft “found them,” and a small, knowing smile that never held an ounce of exasperation.

The realization crept in slowly, unfurling in the space between his gestures and your awareness of them. You started looking forward to the little moments — the quiet steadiness of his presence, the way he never made you feel like a burden, never made your clumsiness into a punchline.

And then, one evening, it hit you.

Will and Macklin were set to go to a Warriors game, but last minute the younger Shark bailed on him in favour of a date. Will, not wanting to skip the game, asked you if you wanted to come. Basketball was never your chosen sport of interest, but you knew how badly Will wanted to go, so you agreed.

You were sitting in front of your vanity, curling wand in hand, rushing to finish your hair. Will was standing next to you, arms crossed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he huffed dramatically. “How long does it take to curl hair? I mean, we’re gonna miss tip-off at this rate.”

“Relax, we have plenty of time,” you said distractedly. For Will, it was like it happened in slow motion. He watched as your hand went to grab the curling iron, only to be reaching for the barrel instead of the handle. His hand darted in before yours, grabbing the barrel and pulling it out of your grasp.

Will only realized what he had done when it was too late, the burning sensation seeping into his skin. His face contorted in pain as he pulled his hand back sharply, letting out a sharp, involuntary scream. You turned in alarm, dropping the curling wand onto the vanity as you watched him clutch his hand, the raw redness already starting to form across his palm.

“What the hell, Will?” you shouted, the surprise and panic evident in your voice. You stood up, your hands trembling as you instinctively reached for his hand, wanting to help but not sure how. “Why the fuck did you grab my curling wand?”

He grimaced, his teeth gritted, but he managed a strained chuckle, his voice laced with guilt. “You were about to burn yourself,” he said simply as if that explained everything.

You blinked, momentarily stunned. You hadn’t even realized what had happened until he had grabbed the hot barrel. You’d been so caught up in finishing your hair, your mind swirling with thoughts of getting to the game, that you hadn’t even noticed your near mishap.

“You saw that?” you asked, your voice softer now, the edge of anger replaced with surprise. “You noticed I was about to—?”

He winced, clearly trying to mask the pain, but there was a hint of warmth in his eyes. “Of course I did,” he said quietly. “You do that a lot. Always rushing, not paying attention.” He gave a small shake of his head, looking almost apologetic. “I don’t know. It just… it’s instinct, I guess.”

You stared at him, trying to process his words. Will had always been observant, but this was something else entirely — a silent, steady vigilance that you’d never fully understood. He’d always been there, quietly anticipating your missteps, but you hadn’t realized just how much of it was rooted in a kind of protective instinct.

Your heart skipped a beat as you took in his expression, the way he held his injured hand close to his body, still trying to hide his discomfort for your sake.

You guided him carefully toward the kitchen, your heart pounding with a mixture of concern and confusion. He let you lead him, his steps slow as he held his injured hand away from his body like it was too fragile to touch anything. Once you reached the sink, you turned on the cold water, the rush of it filling the air.

Will stood beside you, watching you with a calmness that made your chest tighten with guilt. You helped him ease his hand under the water, the cold liquid hissing as it met the burn. He flinched for just a second, but then the chill seemed to soothe him, and he let out a soft breath, his eyes closing for a brief moment.

You reached over to gently hold his wrist, guiding it more carefully into the stream of water. The contact was subtle but felt significant—your fingers wrapping around his, steadying him as the water washed away the heat. There was an odd intimacy to the moment, something quietly tender in the way you were taking care of him, something that made your heart thud louder than it had any right to.

“How did you know?” you asked, your voice quieter than usual as you glanced at him, your eyes searching for answers. “How did you know I was going to grab the barrel?”

Will didn’t immediately respond, his gaze still focused on his hand, the water dripping off his fingers. He shrugged, his lips twitching into a faint, almost apologetic smile. “I just saw it coming,” he said, his voice low. “You were distracted, reaching for something hot. I… I could just tell.”

His gaze flickered toward you then, catching your eyes for the briefest of moments. “You’ve got a tendency to forget, y’know,” he added.

You couldn’t help but shake your head, a laugh escaping you that was both incredulous and full of affection. “You always seem to notice these things. It’s like you’re… watching me.”

Will’s expression shifted, something unspoken flashing in his eyes. He didn’t say anything at first, just staring down at his hand under the water. He didn’t seem to want to elaborate, but you could feel the weight of his silence. It wasn’t just concern you were sensing now; it was something deeper, something that made your heart flutter uncertainly in your chest.

“Why do you always notice?” you pressed gently, not quite sure where the question was leading but needing to understand. “It’s like you’re always one step ahead, always catching things before I do.”

Will’s shoulders shifted under the weight of your question, and he let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh. “I don’t know,” he said after a beat, his words almost too soft to catch. “I guess… I guess I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

There it was. The reason behind the actions that had always seemed so natural to him, so effortless. Will was watching, not just because he could, but because he cared. It wasn’t just observation — it was protection. He had quietly, unknowingly taken on the role of your guardian in a way that you had never even noticed.

He cared.

The weight of that simple, unspoken confession made your stomach flip, but before you could fully process it, something impulsive and raw surged up inside you. You closed the distance between you and Will, your heart racing with an intensity that felt as though it could pull you apart. In an instant, before either of you could think it through, you kissed him.

The shock hit both of you at the same time — his breath catching in his throat as your lips met his, both of you stilling for a moment, like the world had suddenly paused. The soft warmth of his mouth against yours was everything you didn’t expect but everything you needed. And just as quickly, the fear of what you’d just done flooded in.

You pulled away, wide-eyed, the breath between you ragged. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry—what the hell was that?” you stammered, a forced chuckle leaving your lips. Your face heated up as you scrambled to explain. “I—I don’t know what came over me. You just… I don’t know. I just—” You trailed off, unable to form the words to explain how his quiet care had wrapped itself around you, how you felt like the luckiest person alive just to be near him, to have him protect you without ever making you feel like a burden.

“I—I was just so touched, Will. By everything you’ve done, the way you look out for me. You’re—” Your voice faltered, the words feeling clumsy as you tried to express what you were feeling. “You’re one of the only people who doesn’t make fun of me for being so… clumsy. For being me.”

You stared down at your hands, suddenly embarrassed by the vulnerability of the confession.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the soft sound of your breathing, mingled with the sound of the water still running. Then, before you could continue apologizing or retreating into a wave of mortification, Will cut you off.

He leaned forward, dipping his head down so his lips could brush against yours again. The kiss was gentle, tentative at first, but quickly deepened, and all the awkwardness from before melted away. His hand found its way to your cheek, his fingers warm and sure as they cupped your face, the gesture filled with a softness that made your chest ache.

You both pulled away again, your breath mingling together in the small gap of space that remained between you two. The air was thick, not with tension, but with the words that had yet to be said.

His voice was low and slightly rough as he spoke, the words a whisper that seemed to settle between the two of you, making everything feel incredibly intimate. “I don’t know why I do it,” he said, his thumb tracing the edge of your cheek as if he were trying to memorize the feeling of you. “But every time I see you about to get hurt — whether it's something big or small — there’s this… this urge to protect you. To make sure you’re okay. It’s just… instinct, I guess, like you said.” He paused, his eyes flickering over your face, searching, before his gaze softened. “But it’s more than that. It’s not just about keeping you safe. It’s about… caring.”

Your heart thundered in your chest at his confession, and for a moment, you were speechless. You had always known there was something different about the way Will looked after you, but hearing it from him, in his own words, made it all the more real.

“Will…” you started, your voice trembling just slightly, unsure if your own feelings could measure up to the tenderness he was offering. You took a deep breath before continuing. “I—I care about you too. More than I’ve ever let myself admit.” Your hands found their way to his shirt, the fabric beneath your fingers grounding you in the present. “The way you protect me, it’s not just that you’re looking out for me. It’s that… it’s that you make me feel seen. You make me feel like I’m not… a nuisance. Like you actually want to be here. I’ve never felt that way with anyone else.”

There was a pause, just long enough for your words to hang in the air between you. Will’s gaze softened, his uninjured hand leaving your cheek to rest over yours, gently prying your fingers away from his shirt only to intertwine them with his own.

“You’re not a nuisance,” he said, his voice steady, but his eyes held something deeper, something more raw. “I want to be here, with you. Not just for your clumsiness, not just to catch you when you fall. But because…” He swallowed, the words suddenly feeling heavier on his tongue. “Because I’ve been falling for you too. And I don’t want to stop.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and your chest tightened with a mix of relief and disbelief. All of the moments — the small gestures, the quiet care — suddenly made sense. Will had been there, not just as your protector, but as someone who had quietly, unknowingly, built a foundation for something more.

“I didn’t think you’d feel the same,” you whispered, your voice vulnerable. “I thought maybe I was just… someone you looked after. But I want this too, Will. I want… us. If you’re still okay with that.”

Will’s smile was soft and sincere, and there was a warmth in his eyes that made your heart flutter. He gently cupped your face again, pulling you closer as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before speaking again.

“I’m more than okay with that,” he said, his voice steady, now filled with a quiet confidence.

You looked up at him, leaning in to connect your lips once again. But just as the kiss deepened, Will’s hand moved instinctively, like it had so many times before, to cup your face. Only this time, something was different. The faint sting of his burn flared as his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of your cheek, and he pulled back with a sharp inhale, wincing slightly.

“Fuck, that still hurts.” he hissed, his hand withdrawing from your face. Will shook his hand as if that would make the pain magically fall away.

“Who’s the clumsy one now?” you said, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of your lips, trying to break any remaining tension between you two.

Will chuckled, though the pain in his hand still lingered. His eyes softened, a quiet amusement flickering across his features as he met your gaze. “Guess it’s me,” he said, his voice light, yet full of affection.

You couldn’t help but smile back, the warmth between you both settling into something easy and comfortable. The air that had once been thick with unspoken words now felt clear and open. The kiss, the confessions — everything was still fresh, but it was right, in a way that neither of you could deny.

“I think we should get to that game before either of us ends up more injured than we already are,” you teased, a playful spark in your eyes.

Will grinned, his usual protective instinct settling back in as he offered you his good hand. “Let's go,” he said, squeezing your hand.

And as you both walked out the door together, the world felt a little less dangerous.

[secretlittlerandezvous]

Number One - Will Smith

Summary: Y/n, a pro volleyball player, breaks down under pressure and distance during her busy season away from Will. After a phone call where she breaks down, he drops everything and surprises her at her next match.

Words: 1000

The season had swallowed them whole.

Y/n was weeks deep into a relentless stretch of away games, early practices, sponsor events, and constant physical strain. She hadn’t seen her apartment in what felt like forever, barely slept in her own bed, and when she did, she slept alone. The ache in her muscles had become dull and constant, and no matter how many wins she racked up, she felt like she was gasping for air in a life she used to love.

And Will… God, she missed Will.

They used to talk every night. FaceTime until one of them fell asleep, send voice notes just to hear each other’s voice. But lately it was down to occasional good luck texts and rushed “love you” messages. He was just as swamped, his NHL season in full swing, the pressure of proving himself, traveling, performing, somehow surviving.

There was no fight. No anger. Just distance. And that hurt even more.

She hadn’t cried in weeks, holding herself together like the athlete she was taught to be: strong, composed, stoic. But now, in a dim hotel room at the edge of some unfamiliar city, staring at another wall that wasn’t home, her strength cracked.

She stared at her phone, thumb hovering over his name.

She doubted he’d answer. It was late. He’d be exhausted too.

But she pressed “call” anyway, heart hammering in her chest.

To her surprise, the phone rang once, twice and then…

“Hey,” came Will’s familiar voice, soft and slightly worried. “Y/n?”

The sound broke her.

A sob left her before she could stop it, her breath hitching, tears falling fast.

“Whoa, hey, hey, baby what’s wrong?” Will’s voice shot up in panic, fully alert now. “Y/n? Talk to me. What happened? Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, even though he couldn’t see. “I’m just, I’m so tired,” she cried. “I feel like I’m drowning. I’m trying so hard, and no one sees it. No one cares how much I’m breaking.”

Will went silent on the other end, trying to process the pain pouring out of her. “Baby… oh my God.”

“I miss you,” she whispered. “So much it hurts. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending it’s okay that we barely talk, that I’m always alone, that this is just what our lives are now.”

Her voice cracked; each word pulled from somewhere deep inside her chest.

“I feel invisible. I feel like I could disappear, and no one would even notice.”

Will sat on the edge of his bed, fingers gripping his hair. He hated that she was feeling this alone. Hated that he hadn’t noticed how far she'd fallen.

“Y/n,” he breathed. “You’re not invisible. God, you’re everything to me.”

She cried harder.

“I’m proud of you,” he said, firmer now. “I know I haven’t said it enough lately, but I am. I see how hard you’re working, how much you’re giving. I’m sorry I haven’t been there. I’m sorry I let the space between us grow this wide.”

Her sobs got quietened, just slightly, as he continued.

“You’re the strongest person I know. But you don’t always have to be. Not with me.”

There was a beat of silence.

“I’ll get there,” he said. “I’ll figure it out. I’ll be in the stands, front row, screaming your name the second I can take a breath from all this.”

Y/n swallowed, the weight on her chest easing just slightly. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he said softly. “And until then… I’m right here. Even when you feel like no one sees you I do.”

A few days later

Y/n had stopped letting herself hope. Hope was dangerous. It made her heart flutter at every buzz of her phone, every shadow near the bench, every cheer that sounded remotely like his voice.

So, when she stepped onto the court for her final game, a nationally televised one, packed crowd, big pressure she told herself to focus. To lock in. To forget the ache still lingering in her chest.

It wasn’t easy. Her shoulders were heavy with exhaustion, both emotional and physical. Her team was counting on her, and if there was one thing Y/n still clung to, it was that she could always show up for others.

She hadn’t even looked into the crowd.

Not until the second set break, when her coach pulled her aside, water bottle in hand, and smirked. “You’ve got a visitor,” he said with a nod toward the stands.

Y/n turned.

And her knees nearly gave out.

There, tucked behind the barrier just a few rows from the court, stood Will.

Baseball cap low over his curls, hoodie half-zipped, a bouquet of flowers comically stuffed into his arms and a homemade cardboard sign hanging crookedly from his hands that read: “Y/N’S #1 I <3 her and her killer serve.”

Y/n blinked, lips parting in disbelief.

Will grinned and held up the sign higher, pointing at it like he was so proud of himself.

She felt her throat tighten instantly. The crowd around him clearly recognized who he was, phones were out, fans were murmuring but he didn’t care. His whole attention was on her. His eyes sparkled, soft and sure and filled with something only she got to see.

He had flown across the country during his only longer break.

Just to keep his promise.

After the match (which her team won, though she could hardly remember how) she rushed past the cameras and press and sprinted toward the exit tunnel.

Will was waiting.

She practically crashed into him, arms flying around his neck as he dropped the flowers and hugged her back just as fiercely.

“You came,” she whispered, still breathless, still not believing it.

“Told you I would,” he murmured into her hair, tightening his grip. “Didn’t want to miss the chance to watch my girl be a damn superhero.”

Y/n pulled back, just enough to look at him. “You’re insane for flying all the way here.”

“You’re worth it.”

[httpuckdrop]

patience – ws2

the three times it was supposed to happen, and the one time it did.

alternatively: realizing will was worth waiting for.

pairing: will smith x reader

genre: smut, fluff, college!au

word count: 6.5k

warnings: first time together, protected sex... no major warnings

author's note: in celebration of my baby very likely being in my home town right now, i decided to finally post this! my will smut ive been working on for ages (since 3rd of march) !!! so excited to finally be done and post it. hope you enjoy reading it <3 (also someone pls come give me a hug bcs usa is playing here tomorrow but i have an mri scan at that exact time so i cant go see him 💔 truly heartbreaking)

18+ content below, minors dni !!

there's a certain intent in the way will kisses you; a certain hunger, a certain need. it's obvious in the way his fingers trace along your skin beneath your shirt, the way his crotch instinctively rolls down against yours, the sounds he lets out. it's hard not to mistake – he wants you, and you'll gladly give him everything he wishes for.

the truth is, though, that you've not yet had sex with will, despite going out for several months. you have discussed it before, but not in too many details; mostly in words along the lines of 'it'll happen when it's time' and 'we're in no rush'. neither of you lives alone, and there's always something coming in between – a hockey game, an exam, a roommate throwing a stupid party – so it's rare for you to find a time and place that fits your desires and needs.

you and him aren't virgins, yet you aren't the most experienced either, so you've still felt a certain excitement when imagining your first time with him. and at this moment, when will's fingers begin to reach for the front of your jeans, the anticipation swells – multiplies, even – as if your entire body is holding its breath.

your dorm room is quiet, save for the low volume of the long forgotten movie playing on your laptop by the foot of your bed. the space is filled with a scent will recognizes as a mix of your favorite scented candles from that little indie store a few blocks away from campus. he parts from your lips and begins trailing kisses down your jaw as his thumb and pointer finger tease your zipper, before finally pulling it down and popping the button. "is... are you..." his breath tickles your skin as he speaks, mouth having moved to the front of your throat. "is this okay?"

you merely nod, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of his fingers trailing along the waistband of your panties, before remembering that he can't see. "y-yes," you let out, the word breathy on your tongue. will nuzzles his nose against the spot where your neck meets your shoulder, two fingers moving even further down.

"thought so," he says with a chuckle. "you're so wet that i can feel it through the fabric..." he trails his fingers along your slit over your panties, and a shudder passes through your body. "assumed i was doing something right."

"what can i say? you're a good kisser." your hands reach for his shoulders, holding onto them tightly as your head tips back with pleasure when he finally slips past the fabric, finding his way through the folds as if an expert on your body. "we should be quiet, though... daisy is in her room, and..."

will doesn't need to hear more. although he's sure that overhearing some muffled moans won't be the worst thing your dormmate will ever go through, he understands why you would find it awkward to run into your friend if she knew what happened behind your closed doors.

however, it doesn't affect the way he brushes his thumb against your clit, or bites down right above your collarbone, or-

suddenly, someone calls out your name. someone who isn't will.

as if daisy heard you mention her name, she has now found her way to your door, the sound of gentle knocks meeting your ear. "are you almost ready?" she asks, and you frown instinctively.

"ready for what?" you say back, one hand reaching to pull will's head from your skin to halt him.

"for the meeting at the student union." a memory flashes before your eyes. "you said you'd go with me, remember?"

you do remember. you and daisy planned this weeks ago; she really wants to engage in some boring agenda and planning stuff at the student union, but feels too shy to go to these things alone. so, as the good friend you are, you'd promised to tag along to support her.

of course the meeting is tonight, the first time will had gotten into your pants – even if it was just a finger or two.

"right," you say, clearing your throat and letting your gaze meet will's. "i'll be ready in just a few."

the guilt in your eyes is sincere, and will sees it. he accepts the apology you offer him and unwillingly removes his hand from you. "another time?" he asks, straightening up on the bed and allowing you to push yourself to sit next to him.

"another time," you assure him.

"well," he starts, and he's wearing a mischievous grin that you can't quite figure out yet. "until next time..." and then he lifts his fingers to his mouth, pushing them past his lips, and licking himself clear of your juices.

"you're going to be the death of me, you know that?"

you had understood the meaning behind will's call the second he uttered those magical words.

"i'm at the apartment and gabe's not here… maybe you could come over and chill?"

and that's how you find yourself here, on the couch of an off-campus apartment, making out with your boyfriend. fridays are the only days of the week when you don't have any classes, so you'd just been lounging around your apartment and studying when will called, meaning that you just threw on the first things you could find before hurrying off to his place.

it hadn't taken long for the two of you to get settled on the couch in his living room with some random show playing on the tv. just sitting next to him felt too far away, so you climbed into his lap – though, to no surprise of will's, with your back facing the tv. he knew you weren't going to be focusing on the show for much longer anyway.

your lips are already swollen from the kissing, but you can't get enough. his cologne mixes with his natural scent and it's too unbearable, making you just want to swallow him whole. his hands have since long wandered down to your hips, but when they slip beneath your skirt and land on your cheeks, your breath hitches in your throat. he gives your ass a firm squeeze, resulting in you pressing your crotch down against his. there's only the thin material of your underwear separating you from his jeans, and the friction feels far too good to be true.

will takes note of the sounds you're letting out, the little whimpers and weak moans, and keeps on pressing you forward, rolling your hips over his. he bites down on your bottom lip, before soothing the sting with a lick of his tongue and pulling back slightly. "you're-" he cuts himself off to clear his throat, clearly affected by the way you gaze down at him. "you're a fucking dream, did you know that?"

your hand reaches up to brush away a stray curl from his forehead, before raking through his blonde hair. "could say the same thing about you," you tell him, leaning in to briefly brush your lips against his again. "shouldn't we at least go to your room, though?"

will shakes his head, nudging your nose with his. "gabe has classes until four on fridays."

he kisses you with the same type of intensity, as if you'd never even parted. his arms encircle your waist, pulling you flush against him as your other hand makes its way to the back of his head too. when he tilts his head and deepens the kiss, you can't stop your fingers from pulling on his hair – which draws out an unexpected sound from his throat.

you pull back slightly, eyebrows raised. "oh, you have a thing for that?"

"for what?"

"hair pulling," you chuckle.

"dunno what you're talking abou-" his words get cut off when he feels you repeating your actions, fingers getting lost in his curls and pulling so heavenly. his eyes flutter closed, and you can't help but giggle, instead draping your arms around the back of his neck and leaning in even closer.

"it's cute," you tell him, peppering a thousand quick kisses all over his cheek and jaw before letting your hands wander down to the front of his body. "and it's now noted for future use."

as your fingers begin working on the buttons of his shirt, he presses his lips to your neck, licking and nibbling at every inch of skin he can reach. his own hands sneak under your sweatshirt, sliding up your sides and tracing his thumbs along your ribs, before going even further and-

"are you serious?" he asks, biting down on your skin right below your ear as if physically scolding you. "you're really not wearing a bra?"

a jolt of electricity shoots down your spine when his cold hands cup your bare breasts, and you sigh. "i, um... wasn't wearing one when you called," you explain. it's hard to find the right words when he skims his calloused fingertips over your already hardened nipples, making all your thoughts clouded. "didn't bother putting one on... since i was in a rush..."

the feeling of your round, perky tits in his hands is something he could die for, will thinks; this moment right here tops anything he's been through before. combined with the feeling of your nails scratching their way down his now revealed chest, it's equal to heaven.

it all feels so hasty and messy, and maybe it isn't the most romantic of ways to do this, but you two are too eager to care – you just want each other, no matter how.

he's just about to help you get him out of the shirt when suddenly, a sound breaks through his hazy mind. the apartment door crashes shut, and you both freeze in your tracks. "will? man, you'll never guess what-"

gabe perreault, will's best friend, teammate and roommate, suddenly stands in the doorway to the living room. you hold your breath, as if that will make him disappear and undo this entire scene, and will's hands drop to your hips, where you can clearly feel his fingers tense up.

either gabe is blatantly stupid, or else he has seen way worse things in life and just doesn't care – because he just smiles at you and struts into the room. "hi there," he greets you. "didn't know you were coming over. but the more the merrier, right?" you shoot will an alarmed look once gabe settles next to you both on the couch, and your boyfriend looks just as surprised as you. "what are we watching?"

the next time you and will have time to get into a similar situation is over a week later. it's saturday, and the eagles have just won against harvard, which most of the team is out celebrating – but not will. not when daisy is staying over at her boyfriend's place and has left the dorm just for you.

will has no time for celebrating when there's a real chance that he'll get to spend the night inside his girlfriend.

the two of you had this night planned for several days, and you always assumed you'd be lip-locked from the get-go and then get down to business instantly. but on the contrary, the night started off quite slowly; with a movie playing on your laptop yet again, with you cuddled up to his side and his arm draped across your shoulders, and with you both sneaking little innocent kisses from each other every once in a while. since the game, you'd both gotten changed into more comfortable clothes – him in a white shirt and pair of gray sweatpants, you in cotton shorts and a bc hoodie – and the general vibe of it all is lighthearted and cozy, which is not what you had expected.

eventually, though, will's free hand finds your knee, and while the touches start off innocent, it doesn't take long before his fingers begin wandering up your thigh. his head tilts down so that he can press his lips against your cheek, and then your jaw, and then your neck. you sigh when he sucks on a spot under your ear, and his thumb slips past the hem of your shorts to stroke along the inside of your thighs.

with the way your eyelids have fluttered shut and your body is fully relaxed, it's easy for will to tell that the movie is none of your concern anymore. he still makes a point of retracting from you and sitting up more properly, one hand grabbing your laptop. "okay if i shut this off?" he says, but it's not really what he's asking for. are we really doing this? are you okay with this?

you just nod hastily, hands reaching out to him. "yeah, yeah. just come here," you answer, smiling as he pushes your laptop closed and places it on your bedside table before crawling over you. loud and clear.

the first brush of lips is tentative yet completely electrifying. it sets your whole body on fire, and the way one of his hands lands on your jaw, his thumb drawing circles onto your cheek, doesn't exactly tame the flames. it's much more gentle than when you were sitting on will's couch just over a week ago – the slow kisses and unspoken want making your chest ache – yet, there's still a strong sense of neediness behind it.

his shirt comes off in just a second, and then follows your hoodie, leaving you in just a lacy, black camisole that does a pretty poor job of hiding what's going on underneath it. he can't hold back from reaching down to pinch your nipple through the fabric of your top, loving the way you squirm and whine. "so needy already?" he asks, humming at the way your hands grab at his shoulders.

"always needy for you," you hum, tipping your head back as he presses a gentle kiss to the front of your throat, feeling your pulse beneath your skin. he then moves up to lock his lips with yours again. he kisses you feverishly, tingles spreading through your body when his tongue meets yours. his fingers dip inside your top, refusing to neglect any inch of your skin as if memorizing every dip and curve of your body. the combination of him kneading your breasts and licking lazily into your mouth leaves you breathless in just seconds, and yet you honestly think you could stay like this forever.

still, you find yourself pushing at his shoulders and forcing him to lie down instead. at first, he's a little confused, but when you begin to climb on top of him, he obliges happily – having you boss him around like this is insanely hot, and he makes a mental note to repeat this in the future.

you straddle his thighs, leaning forward to trace a finger along the rough ridges of his toned chest. will clasps his fingers together behind his head, letting out a contented sigh as he watches you move down his body. you attach your lips to his skin next, and his breath hitches in his throat. he never could've dreamed about having such a pretty angel kiss her way down his body.

your fingers undo his zipper quickly and will helps you pull his pants down his hips, revealing the tent in his boxers. a chuckle slips from your lips. "so needy already?" you parrot, hands reaching down to brush against his shaft through the fabric. he's so desperate that he twitches even from the slightest of touches, and you almost feel bad for him when you hear the sound that rumbles in his throat. one hand slips past the hem of his underwear, pumping him a few times before rubbing his tip with your thumb and spreading his precum along his hardness. "you're bigger than i thought."

"is that a compliment or an insult?" he says around a moan, hips bucking slightly to try to seek your touch.

"definitely a compliment." you pull his dick free of its confinement, before slipping out of your shorts and throwing them to some random corner of the room. "i knew you'd be big, but... you're much thicker than i imagined."

"god, you can't just say something like that-" he visibly shudders when you lean down to press a kiss to his tip, and then a few more down the underside of him. you're practically itching to taste him, to feel his weight on your tongue, but then you sit up a little straighter again, deciding on something else; you settle on his crotch again, hips rolling down against him.

there's now only one soaked layer of fabric separating will from where he craves to be, and it's killing you just as much as him. his fingers dig into your sides, helping you find a good rhythm as you both grow increasingly impatient. you throw your head back, whining a little too loudly, and you can't take it anymore. "top- top drawer," you choke out, and will understands instantly, reaching out to grab a condom from your bedside table.

he throws it down to you, and letting you rip the packaging open and roll it down his cock. this is it, you think to yourself. god, i really hope this is it. please let this be it-

a signal fills the room. "don't tell me that's..." but yes, it is; will picks up his phone from the other side of the bed, holding it up to reveal that it's his mother calling. and to your greatest dismay, he answers the call. will, ever the mama's boy, has apparently never missed a call from his mother.

he's seemingly also never been able to read a room – or what it means when someone glares and shakes their head at him.

"hey, mom," he says, head flopping down against the pillow. "yeah, the game went well- oh, you streamed it?"

you sit there stunned. is this really happening? were you really just about to have sex with your boyfriend for the first time, but got interrupted by his mom? should you climb off him, leave him alone in the room, jump out the window from the fourth floor?

as if able to read your thoughts, one of his hands lands on your hip again, thumb rubbing along your hipbone reassuringly as his gaze meets yours. he looks apologetic and guilty, but it doesn't quite take away from the disappointment you feel. "mhm, gabe's shot there was amazing... i know, it was unnecessary for me to take that penalty, i didn't mean to..."

a tiny part of you wants to tease him a little, to kiss your way around his shaft, to see him stutter and hang up already – but he's far too good and he doesn't deserve it. he seems to really feel bad over what he did, as if he acted on impulse and regretted his actions instantly.

when he finally hangs up, he throws his phone to the side and drags a hand down his face. "so... your mom?" you ask hesitantly.

he nods. "i completely ruined the mood, didn't i?" he says with a weak chuckle.

"it doesn't have to," you reassure him, leaning down to stroke your hands down his chest, but he shakes his head and looks down at his crotch.

"too late." it wasn't a very long call with his mother, but there's not even the faintest trace of a boner left. of course. "she killed him."

you sigh and flop down to his side, squeezing your eyes shut. "are we ever actually going to go through with this?" you ask after a few moments of silence. "maybe the fact that we keep getting interrupted is... a sign from the universe or something. we're doomed."

"stop, don't say that." will tilts his head to the side, nose brushing against your cheek. "i think it just makes the anticipation stronger, you know? when it finally happens..." he presses a kiss to your skin. "it'll be worth it."

you sure hope so.

wear something sexy, picking you up in 20. x

the text is simple, but more than enough to leave a dull ache in your core. your thoughts wander too far before you can control them and remind yourself not to jump to any conclusions. this has happened before, you tell yourself; just because you're going to will's apartment doesn't mean gabe won't be there, and it doesn't mean that will or you will automatically be in the mood-

except, you both obviously will be. this sexual tension has been going on for far too long now, and it's been practically impossible to ignore. even just sitting next to each other in the dining hall, or walking down campus together, has been impossible; you've both been wanting to just put your hands on each other already, honestly itching to sneak away into an empty classroom and just get over with it already.

but you'd agreed. you wanted the first time to be proper and special. so, although it was impatiently, you had waited.

just "wearing something sexy" is not as easy as it sounds when you have all of the expectations in the world on your shoulders. granted, you put them there yourself – will probably would've found you just as sexy if you wore a potato sack – but they were still there. you eventually settled on picking out a fancy set of lingerie, deciding that they would be the main attraction anyway, and whatever shirt and pants you wore would hopefully just be discarded sooner rather than later.

there must be a certain spring in your step, because daisy gives you a knowing look once you leave your room and make your way into your shared living room. "you seeing will tonight?" she asks, and you can't help but nod eagerly. "well... i probably don't have to tell you this, but... be safe, okay?"

"of course," you tell her, shooting her a smile just as the doorbell rings. after strutting over to the door and opening it, you throw yourself into your boyfriend's arms instantly. he answers with a huff of laughter and a tight hug.

"you ready to go?" will asks and you nod, hand finding his before turning back to daisy and waving to her.

"don't wait up!" you say, and she shakes her head, grin on her lips.

"of course not."

the ride to will's place is quick, his hand never leaving your knee for even a second. he unlocks the door, holding it open for you, and something feels off about the way the entire apartment is dark – except for a trail of little tealights marking a path to will's bedroom. "where is gabe?" you ask, taking a few wary steps into the space. you're suddenly hit by nerves and the reality of what's going on, though trying your best not to show it.

will shuts the door behind you both, stepping out of his shoes before bending down to undo the laces of yours. "he's with some girl," he answers vaguely, and you give him a pointed look once he's helped you out of your shoes and stood up again.

"coming home when?"

will shakes his head, and the smile on his lips makes you feel relieved instantly. "never. i paid him to sleep somewhere, anywhere, else."

you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him down to your height. "you're the best," you mumble against his lips before kissing him.

"you just wait." he gives you one last kiss before pulling away, one hand on your lower back guiding you towards his bedroom.

once he pushes his door open, you gasp at the sight. candles everywhere – pillars, tapers, tealights, in all kinds of colors and sizes – and as if that wasn't romantic enough, there are a bunch of rose petals spread on top of his comforter. will shoots you a slight smile once you turn to him, seemingly a little unsure if you like it or if he's overdone it, and your heart flutters in your chest. "this is... lovely. you did all this? for me?"

he nods once, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

"seems like a bit of a fire hazard to me," you joke, though it's not completely unserious – but you suppose it would also be quite romantic to pass away because you were too busy making love to notice that the room was on fire.

will just shrugs. "everywhere i go with you puts me at risk of fire since you're so hot."

you give his shoulder a playful shove, but he barely reacts. he stands there, just watching you, so you decide to take matters into your own hands.

you reach for the hem of your shirt, only then noticing that your fingers are trembling slightly – when did that happen? you've been dreaming about this moment for weeks, and now you're suddenly anxious? this is no time to be timid, you tell yourself, so you continue with your plans, slipping the shirt over your head. you drop it to the ground, making sure there are no candles right there, before pulling your jeans off your body as well.

left in just the white, lacy lingerie you'd so carefully picked out, you feel more revealed and seen than ever – it doesn't help that will still hasn't said anything or reacted, either – but you can't turn back now. so you take both of his hands in yours, walking backwards until the back of your legs hit his bed, and you sit down.

"will?" you ask, following the way his eyes slowly move up and down your skin. "where is your mind at?"

he takes a deep breath, gaze finding yours. "can i be honest?" you nod. "i'm... a little nervous."

his sincerity makes your heart flutter. "so am i."

"do you still want to... go through with this?"

you give his hands a squeeze. "more than anything." will seems satisfied by your answer, because he helps you lie down properly against the pillows and then climbs on top of you.

his kisses aren't tentative per se, but they aren't as eager as they were last time you were in this position. it takes a while to warm up before you're both panting against each other's lips, tongues tangling and hands wandering. not that you're in any rush; will wants to take his time with you.

he leaves a trail of wet kisses down your jaw, and then your neck, and then along one of your collarbones. he eventually pushes himself up to sit, legs caging you in. "i forgot something," he says and you slate your head as an answer. "forgot to say how gorgeous you look."

you reach up to give his face a playful slap, but he grabs your wrist.

"i'm serious. you look... straight out of a fairy tale." then, he grimaces. "okay, maybe more like a porno. not the kind of fairy tale i'd show to a child, anyway."

"god, you're awful," you complain, but before you can say anything else, will's free hand has slipped behind your body, sending you a questioning look which you answer with a nod.

he gets the clasp of your bra undone – albeit a bit clumsily with just one hand – and helps the material slide off your arms. his gaze is even more intense now, staring at you like you're something he's been dreaming about for ages. you're just about to give in to the urge to cover yourself up when his mouth returns where it had left off, teeth nibbling and lips sucking on the soft skin of your chest. "thought it couldn't get better," he mumbles, though not stopping his actions for even a second, leaving no inch untouched. he's like a starved man, and it's hard to remember that this exact boy was careful about even touching you a few minutes ago. "but it got a lot better. fuck, you're so hot."

"it's kinda unfair, though," you say, shrugging – or, as much of a shrug as you can manage when you've got a golden retriever man pressing a circle of soft kisses around your nipple. "that you get to see all this, and you're a hockey player with abs and amazing chest muscles, and yet you've still got your shirt on and-"

he doesn't need to hear any more, instantly sitting back on his heels and getting out of his shirt. the material falls to the floor, but he wastes no time before his face is stuffed into your skin again. when his lips wander south, finding the edge of your panties, one hand finds your side, caressing your bare skin. "can i make you feel good?" he asks, hooking a finger of his free hand under the waistband. "is that okay?"

"yeah, just-" you sigh when he pulls the fabric down and off your legs, the cold air against your revealed gender sending a shiver up your spine. "just… hurry, will you?"

will settles between your thighs, his sweet laughter sounding like music to your ears. as his lips find the inside of your thigh, he lets the hand that was on your waist travel south. the first touch of his thumb against your clit makes your hips jerk, as if you've been anticipating this for years. "patient, baby," he chuckles, nose rubbing the space where your leg meets your hips. "we've got all the time in the world."

after drawing tantalizingly slow circles onto your bud for a while, adoring the way you squirm under his touch, he finally moves lower. he collects your wetness on his fingertips before letting one slender finger slide into your core. everything about will is big – he's tall, he's got big muscles and broad shoulders – so it shouldn't be any surprise that his fingers carry some length, too. and yet, it does surprise you. when another finger enters your warmth, he reaches further in than you'd expected, and the stretch when he spreads his fingers feels far too good for just a pair of fingers.

his tongue licks a few stripes up and down your slit while his fingers keep on pumping in and out of you, before his lips settle back on your clit. the combination of sucking, lapping and circling makes your head spin in an embarrassingly short amount of time, and your hands fly down to the back of his head.

"will-" you let out, fingers tangling in his soft blonde curls. "i'm- i'm really close-"

he merely hums as an answer, keeping up his actions until he has you falling apart on his tongue. his chest fills with pride at the feeling of your body convulsing as you reach your high, and the whines mixed with swearwords you let out make him want to stay right here all night. what else could he possibly need in life?

once your breathing has returned to somewhat normal, and you're no longer tugging on his hair so hard he thinks it might fall out, will retracts his face from between your legs and looks up at you. he finds you blinking down at him with just as much lust and love as he's feeling, and warmth spreads through his body.

"you okay up there?" he asks, fingers dancing along your stomach as he leans further up to face you again.

you respond with a hum, hands reaching down to his jeans and beginning to undo his belt. "my turn to make you feel good."

will stops you, fingers wrapping around your wrists. "it's okay," he says with a shake of his head.

you frown. "i wanna get my lips on you, though," you fight back.

"you'll have plenty of time to do that another time." just as you're about to bicker back again, he cups your cheek in his hand and continues. "going down on you was enough for me. honestly, i was seconds away from coming in my own pants just from your taste and sounds." he tilts your head down, letting your gaze wander to his crotch. "see? i'm not even kidding, i'm so hard it's extremely painful."

"just get out of your clothes, then, will you?"

he stands up in less than a second, not even bothering to pull his belt completely out, instead opting for just dragging his jeans and boxers off as quickly as possible. he snatches a condom from his bedside table, pulling the wrapper off and rolling the latex down his length hastily.

"are you sure your phone is off?" you ask when he settles over you again. "you don't have a facetime call scheduled with your mother?"

"god, shut up," he mutters, leaning down to crash his mouth against yours. he bites down on your bottom lip after a few moments, before parting slightly. "don't even mention her, she doesn't exist right now…"

he swallows your giggles, his hands grabbing your hips to angle them properly before parting your legs. "i'm sorry," you tell him, fingers brushing away some of the curls that had fallen into his eyes. "just wanted to make sure no one's going to interrupt."

"i won't let them." will takes a deep breath, sighing softly at the sight of you beneath him; so bare, vulnerable, open; all ready for him. his tip nudges your core. "is this okay? can i…?"

your words fail you, so you nod, tensing up slightly in anticipation. will's gentle kisses to your temple and soft touches along your ribs help soothe you, and soon enough, he starts pushing into you.

ever since you felt his girth in your hands that night in your bedroom, you've been trying to prepare yourself; attempting to remember just how big he was, imagining how he would feel inside you, how the stretch would be... and yet, none of it prepared yourself for this moment right here.

you'd remarked about how big he looked, but he feels much bigger. even after him fingering you, it's like he's splitting you open, and it's taking everything you have not to scream your lungs out. instead, you take it out on his back, letting your nails dig into his muscles hard enough to leave marks – you probably will feel guilty over it later, but right now, your every nerve ending is on fire, so your care is elsewhere.

even with the stretch, though, it feels amazing. maybe it's because of the stretch, or maybe it's just a side character, but something about just feeling him inside you like this is beyond anything you've felt before.

after allowing you to catch your breath for a few moments, will presses his lips to your forehead. "can i move?" he whispers. "or do you need a minute?"

you shake your head. "go ahead," you let out, words half a moan and half a whine.

you feel empty instantly when he pulls out of you, but he makes up for that when he thrusts back into you again. he sets a pace, slow but powerful, and it's easy for you to get used to. his cock drags along your insides to deliciously, having no issues hitting that spot deep inside of you that has you arching your back and pressing your chest up against his.

"you're so-" will groans mid-sentence, nearly losing his mind already. "so tight. feel so fucking good-" he has to really control himself to not shoot his load instantly; to him, it feels like you've had several weeks of foreplay and it all led up to this moment. he's extremely sensitive already, and the way your walls keep on throbbing around him doesn't exactly make him less needy, either.

as his lips find one of your breasts, tongue flicking over your nipple again and again, his hand pulls your knee up to hook it around his hip. the new position allows him more depth and another spot to hit. as if you hadn't already felt so good it was almost painful, the new angle sends a jolt of pleasure through your body every time he pushes inside you. and when his thumb finds your clit again, you're unable to hold back the high-pitched whine that errupts from your throat.

will's brain short-circuited long ago, but at the realization of how good he's making you feel – so good that you're unable to hold back from shaking beneath him and letting out those sweet sounds he's sure he'll come to be obsessed with – he nearly loses it in a second.

"are you anywhere close?" he asks, and your answer comes in the form of yet another trail of nail marks down his back muscles. "because- shit, i'm about to-"

your climax crashes over you before you can react, leaving you a trembling mess beneath him. when your walls clench around him, he has no way of holding back, either. he lets go completely, and the hottest moan you've ever heard leaves his lips as he rides out both of your highs. he then collapses on top of you, but his weight isn't crushing; despite his muscular, hockey player build, it feels grounding to have him so close. to feel his heartbeat thud against your chest, to hear his warm pants right by your ear, to smell his laundry detergent from his covers…

"you feel…" he starts after a few moments of silence, voice a mere breathless whisper, before pushing himself up on his elbows to look down at you. "so, so good."

"you're not too bad yourself," you answer with a weak chuckle, shaking your head.

you reach up with one hand to brush away a few sweaty curls that had stuck to his forehead, before allowing it to cup his cheek in your palm. "i'll go get something to clean you up, okay?"

your nod is answered with a soft kiss pressed to your lips. when will slowly pulls himself out of you, it leaves you with a feeling of emptiness and longing – but the thought of getting to do this all over again makes it a lot better. "hey, will?" you ask just as he rises from the bed.

he looks back at you with eyebrows raised, a gentle flush still prominent on his cheeks.

"i'm glad we ignored the universe."

his expression softened. "never been happier."

[uluvjay]

Pretty boy-W. Smith

Will smith x fem! Reader

Request: Can I request “open your mouth” with Smitty? Maybe with reader saying it to him🤭

Warnings?; slight smut, kissing, cursing, teasing.

Will’s chest heaved from where he sat against the headboard, thick hands gripping the sheets below him as he watched your fingers dip in and out of your wet core.

He couldn’t be mad honestly, he did it to himself. Forgetting your anniversary was a low blow and pushing you off to play his Xbox with Macklin was no better.

So when he walked in your shared bed room and found you with your fingers buried deep inside your cunt while you withered on the bed in pleasure, gasping his name with his shirt pushed up over your chest.

He couldn’t help the curse word that slipped from his mouth, but he was stupid to think you’d take pity on him. Allow him to climb in the bed next to you and finish you off on his cock rather than your much smaller fingers.

And that’s how he found himself in this position, helplessly watching as you now sat in front of him legs spread-Still moaning his name while you played with yourself.

And there was nothing Will could do about it, it was his punishment.

“Fuck will” you gasped feeling your high fast approaching watching as his blue eyes switched from the sight of your cunt back to your red face.

He could tell you were getting close by the way your toes began to curl, fingers sped up chasing something that was so close yet so far.

His cock ached in his shorts pushing against the cotton material he could feel the wet spot that had formed on his boxers from the precum.

“Come on baby, cum for me. I can see you’re almost there” he egged on from his spot watching as your thighs began to shake, your moans getting higher and higher.

And finally he watched as your body shook from the hit of your orgasm, hips rutting into your hand as you continued to fuck yourself through your high.

Will swore he could’ve cum at the sight of you alone your messy hair sticking to your sweat coated forehead, chest heaving, mouth open as you panted loudly.

And when he thought it couldn’t get worse your eyes locked with his and your fingers were slipping from your dripping cunt.

His breathing picked up when you began crawling up the bed and over his lap, a downright evil giggle slipping past your throat when you ‘Accidentally’ brushed his aching erection.

His eyes locked with yours as you sat over him your manicured fingers slipping into his blonde curls as you tugged his head back.

“Open your mouth pretty boy.” You instructed.

Will didn’t hesitate to follow your words, mouth dropping open allowing you room to slip your cum coated fingers into his mouth.

He couldn’t help the moan that escaped from him at the taste, his tongue moving against your fingers getting as much of a taste of you as he could.

The sight from above was hot watching as he sucked your fingers helplessly his fingers twitching on the sides of your thighs itching to feel your hot skin.

The blonde whimpered when you pulled your fingers away from him but it was quickly silenced by you crashing your lips onto his.

The kiss was dirty and messy, tongues fighting each other for dominance your fingers pulling hard on his soft hair while his gripped the skin of your thighs, holding so tight one might think you were trying to escape.

You didn’t pull away until you were both panting, the need for air apparent in the way your chests heaved.

Will tried to pull you back to him but despite his athletic abilities you were too quick for him, slipping from his hold and onto your shaky feet.

“Wait, W-where are you going?” He sat up quickly moving off the bed to follow you.

“To shower, and you’re not invited.” You shrugged dismissing him over your shoulder as you shut the bathroom door.

Will tried reaching for the knob however the noticeable ‘click’ of the lock sounded before he could turn it.

“Baby please, it was a mistake and I’m sorry it won’t ever happen again. Please let me in so I can make it up to you.” He begged through the wood.

He heard you sigh before answering him, “No, go bother Mack. Maybe he can help solve your little problem.”

“My problem is anything but little.” He grumbled.

“I heard that you ass!”

Wills head thudded against the door as he leaned against it, if this was the punishment he got after missing something he would make sure everything was put in his calendar from now on.

-

[toplurker]

TWO HANDS

reader x macklin celebrini

where you just can’t get enough, and one hand isn’t enough.

cw: p in v (protected!!!! wrap it before u tap it .) needy!reader, tad bit of dom!mack, cockwarming, cursing, nsfw!!

inspired by ;

✧˚ · . . · ˚ ✧

macklins jaw is slack, his eyes hooded, focused on where your bodies connect. he’s in pure bliss as his hands grip onto you tightly, your hips meeting each others at a fast pace. quiet grunts can be heard from macklin, while your a mess of soft moans. as he speeds up the pace, small whimpers begin to escape him. sweat glistens his body and you can see every muscle contract, and he looks as if he’s been hand sculpted perfectly. his lips are pink and plush from the continuous contact, whether it be with your lips or your skin. both of your chests rise and fall with heavy fast breaths in sync, and you seek shelter in the crook of his neck.

you feel him start to part your legs even further, his hands moving down to your ass, your chests becoming closer and closer. he starts to hit new places in you, his head smashing against your cervix over and over, and the feeling is unexplainable, pain mixing with the pleasure to become a fuzzy haze. “macklin,” you whine out, forehead resting on his collarbone.

his hands tighten on your ass at this, and you feel him twitch inside of you. “hmm,” he says, sounding husky. he’s in awe as he stares down at him slamming into you, and your not even sure he really registered what you said.

your nails run down his back and he hisses a little. you let out a loud whine in his neck, your eyes rolling back. “holy,” he manages out, sounding almost choked. you feel his hands move from your body to on either side of your body, supporting himself up, and at the loss of contact you whimper. “mm mm,” you say, shaking your head.

he slowed down slightly, moving his face to look at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “hmmm?” he grunts out, his eyes on you. “back,” you muster our, his dick messing with your brain, him fucking you dumb. he looks confused, and you know you have to explain more. “put them back,” you say, exhaling sharply. he looks confused before realizing what you mean, and a small smirk appears on his face.

“needed to feel me more, huh?” he asks, pride coating his voice. you nod frantically, a soft moan leaving your lips. his one hand moves to your hip, holding onto you tightly, his weight leaning on his supporting arm. your grateful for his touch, but you need more. “mack,” you breathe out, a frustrated moan coating your voice. “both,”

he chuckles a little, adjusting his position to support his weight on himself instead of on your small frame, both hands squeezing your hips with tight pressure. “need two hands on you, don’t you?” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “mhmh,” you nod, whining a little. “m’close,” you manage our, your hands clenching the sheets below you.

“me too,” he whispers, nodding. his pace speeds up, his hips snapping into you, his tip constantly kissing your cervix. you feel his actions start to become more erratic but at the same time sloppy, and your thighs start to shake. “oh- oh fuck!” you cry out, feeling the band in your stomach snap. you come long and hard, a scream leaving your mouth, and before you know it, macklin is coming too. you squeeze and convulse him you, riding your high but at the same time milking him dry as he fills the condom. your both a mess of lewd noises, groans and whimpers filling the room along with your skin meeting.

your actions slow before he collapses ontop of you, both of you breathless. you can feel him twitch a little inside of you. he rests on top of you before carefully lifting himself off, his lips as if he were whistling but breathing out air. “just quickly,” he says, and swiftly pulls out, causing a whimper to escape you, your hands flying to his chest as he pulls the full condom off himself and throwing it in the nearby trash. “need you,” you say, and you meet his eyes, his head tilting slightly.

“please,” you say, and he understand what you mean, you need him back in you. “are you sure?” he ask quietly, a little unsure. you nod, meeting his eyes, your hands moving to his shoulders. he aligns himself with your hole before slowly pushing himself in, causing you to whine, and him to breath out sharply. “shit,” he says lowly, eyes briefly closing. your walls stretch around him, him hitting your cervix once again. you both catch your breath before he carefully moves behind you, spooning you as you both rest in the bed.

his arms wrap around your torso, and one of your hands moves ontop of his. your other hand gently reaches backwards to stroke his teeth before moving ontop of the arm pile. he gently kisses your bare shoulder before resting his chin on it, exhaling shakily. the warmth he provides leaves you feeling relaxed, filling that void and not leaving you feeling empty. you feel your breaths sync, both tired after what’s just been done.

you feel one of his hands shift, moving to rest by his head, and you turn your head around slowly, a joking glare on your face. “jeez, two hands only, huh?” he asks, and you smile softly, nodding. “always,” you add, turning around. at this he laughs a little, kissing your jawline before relaxing again.

“needy,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips pressed into your shoulder.

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

hi guys!!! i took a big long break (extremely sorry) it was not planned, but schoolwork, life, sports, and medical issues caught up to me 😿

i hope to write more and am trying my best!!!! please send in reqs or just yaps!!!

[toplurker]

“mine forever”

reader x macklin celebrini

when the sharks win, you and macklin know the perfect way to celebrate after going out with some of his teammates

cw: p in v (protected) lowkey a little dom!mack, cursing (?) nsfw!

✧˚ · . . · ˚✧

macklin exhales shakily as your hands run down his bare chest, your legs on either sides of his hips. “fuck,” he whispers, his voice uneven and shaky. his hands rest on your thighs with a slight grip, but you can feel it grow tighter and tighter as the seconds go on.

“hmm?” you ask lowly, eyes meeting his, tilting your head slightly. his eyes dart around the room before darting around various parts of your body covered by a satin blue dress, hugging you in just the right places. when he finally meets your eyes, he swallows hard, his cheeks heating up. “it’s just- you’re- you look,” he says, voice quieter than normal and slightly husky. you can feel his bulge grow even more under you as he thinks for words, his eyes looking down towards your thighs around him. “astonishing,” he finally says, meeting your eyes again, before looking towards your lips.

“is that so?” you ask, your attention now on your hands as they slowly glide from his collarbones down to his nipples, moving towards his chest, and running overtop of his abs, feeling the hard and defined muscles. your hands stop at his belt, bringing your eyes back to his eyes. you can feel the patch of wetness in your thin panties growing. his lips push against yours, and he lets out a soft whimper as you tilt your head slightly, tongue meeting his briefly before he pulls back as you trace his belt.

macklin lets a soft groan out as he shifts a little, lifting both of your bodies up slightly before settling back down into the couch. “yeah,” he says, voice tight. his hands slowly move up to rest on your waist. “such a pretty girl,” he murmurs, hands roaming around your torso. your body presses into his more and more and you can feel heat growing between your thighs further and further.

macklins body responds the same as yours, feeling him get tenser. you hear him mumble something but you can’t quite understand it. “speak up macky,” you say softly, hands gently fiddling with his belt. his eyes dart to yours, though yours don’t meet his. “all mine,” he says, his voice a little firm but still quiet. his hands move from your waist down to your thighs, gripping tighter.

your hands slowly fiddle with the buckle, before finally unclamping it. your eyes lock onto his as you undo his button painfully slowly, feeling macklin grow more and more. “you’re killing me,” he says, his voice low, growing raspier by the moment. you respond with a shrug, grabbing a hold of his zipper, slowly undoing it. macklin whimpers, tensing uncomfortably, still for a few moments before grabbing a hold of your hips, flipping you two around, you ending up underneath his body.

“can’t take it anymore,” he murmurs, shaking his head. with one arm he holds himself up over you, the other reaches into his pocket, grabbing a condom, but leaving it in his hand as he undoes his zipper fully, pulling them down with his one hand to around his knee, kicking them off, while he places the condom between his teeth, ripping it. his boxers are next to go, his boner hitting his stomach from the speed of which he removes his underwear.

macklin never fails to make you nervous with his size, and you feel butterflies grow in your stomach. precum leaks from his tip, slowly rolling down his shaft. your hands move to caress his collar bones and shoulders, moving back and forth, before resting one hand on his shoulder, the other on the side of his neck. he rolls the condom on before turning his attention to you.

“teasin’ too much,” he says, shaking his head. he pulls one strap off your shoulder, doing the same to the other, and shimmying it upwards off your body. “jesus,” he says, being greeted with you braless, before he turns his attention to your soaked panties. his eyes stay locked onto the sight between your thighs, almost at a loss for words. “shit, all f’me huh?” he says finally, meeting your eyes.

“only you macky,” you whisper, causing a whimper to escape him. he pulls them off you swiftly, lining himself up, circling your dripping hole. “pretty girl, he says, slowly filling you up, pressing his lips onto your shoulder. you both let out a hiss as he bottoms out, your chests hitting each other. your hands reach for his shoulders, holding pretty tight.

he waits a few moments, his forehead resting on yours, your breaths both heavy. his forehead moved to rest on your shoulder, head tilted down to where your bodies meet. he moves to kiss your shoulder before placing his forehead back, slowly pulling out before pushing back in slowly. you pulse around him as he moves at a slow pace. “shit- your- your soaked,” he breaths out, a breathy chuckle escaping. you whimper as he picks up the pace, stretching you out further and further.

your breaths pick up faster and faster, the room filled with sounds of breathing and sounds of your bodies meeting, and slight squelching. “mine,” he spits out, voice tight. “no one else’s,” he adds, his voice low and husky. he picks up his pace and small sweat beads start to grow on his forehead. you let out a breathy moan as he moves a hand to your hip, gripping onto you. you feel his tip hit that sweet spongy spot inside of you and the feeling makes you weak.

your hands make their way to his back, your nails digging into him as he ups his pace, your moans growing louder and the whimpers and groans coming from macklin only continue to become more frequent. his hips start to snap into yours, your nails running down his back. “fuck, i-i’m not lasting much longer,” he breathes out with a groan. his movements become sloppier and you start to move your hips into his, matching him searching for more. “i’m close,” you say with a loud whine. your legs wrap around his waist, feet connecting at his lower back, and it allows him to hit new spots, going even deeper and hitting your g-spot even more.

his head hovers above you, admiring you, and your head tucks into his neck. your an absolute mess, eyes rolling back and body arching into his. “oh my g-” you whimper, feeling that familiar knot form in your stomach. “shit,” macklin says with a moan, and you can tell by how fast he’s moving he’s close. his free hand comes down between your bodies, his thumb tracing fast circles over your clit, his other hand holding him up above you.

“g-gonna cum,” you manage out, legs tightening around him. you feel that knot pulling right in your lower belly before it snaps, and your digging so hard into macklin with your nails you wouldn’t be surprised if you drew blood. “macklin!” you cry out as you release, juices covering macklins length. he continue to pound into your cunt before you feel his actions falter, and he spills into the condom. “fuckkkk,” he groans out with a slight whimper. he rides out his high until he pulls out suddenly, causing you to inhale sharply. he tosses the filled condom in the trash before he collapses on top of you, and broken whimpers escape him as you attempt to catch your breath.

“mine forever,” he says, pressing kisses along your chest, and you simply just wrap your arms across his shoulders, your legs knotting with his.

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

ok period first smut lowkey trash but trust guys i will get better

ty for reqs and i will try to do more!!

[pucking-rowdy]

celebrating with macklin celebrini after a win? love your writing!!

the city lights blur behind the cab window as laughter fills the backseat. macklin fumbles with the zipper on his coat, the team’s logo half-covered in beer. his hair's a mess, his grin lopsided. you're not much better, almost dropping your phone as you replay his game highlights.

“i can’t believe you scored that goal,” you slur, nudging him a bit too hard in the ribs. “bar down like it was nothing.”

macklin snorts, head lolling toward you. “i was aiming five-hole,” he admits, and you both crack up like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

the driver gives you both a look in the rearview mirror, but neither of you notice.

by the time you've made it out of the cab and to the front steps of his apartment, macklin's dropped his keys. twice.

finally, you burst through the door in a wave of victorious cheers and giggles. macklin kicks his sneakers off as if they'd personally offended him, flopping down onto the couch.

“god, i love hockey,” he mutters into a throw pillow.

you collapse beside him, handing him a water bottle. “you love winning.”

"same thing."

you move to lay on him, your cheek smushed into his shoulder. his fingers lazily card through your hair.

“you were unbelievable tonight,” you murmur against his shoulder.

he huffs out a laugh. “you say that every game.”

“because it’s always true.”

he leans back to look at you, his hands resting warm and heavy on your hips. “you’re biased.”

“obviously,” you say, rising up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

he grins, cheeks going red. but he kisses you anyway, slow and familiar, like he knows exactly what you taste like after a night out, like he’s been waiting for this part all evening.

his fingers slide into your hair, tangling in the strands as he deepens the kiss, and the world outside fades completely. there’s no cheering, no game-winning goal, no celebration. there’s just the feeling of his lips on yours, the warmth of his body, and the quiet certainty of this moment.

when you break apart, your foreheads press together.

"i love you," he murmurs, tucking your head under his chin. he smells like a mix of beer and his warm cologne.

"i love you, too."

the silence feels sacred as you bask in his post-win glow. the only sound is the soft rhythm of your breathing and the distant city noise fading into the background.

[abbotjack]

Um i have a request that can go either dr jack or dr robby, its up to you and the people🙌

Him figuring out you're pregnant before you even notice? Like he's so in tune with your body that when he's in you or when he feels you up he notices the subtlest change 👀 and when you wonder why your period is late its the final 1% for him 🤭 now he's 100% sure before you even suspect it

Absolutely, here’s the Jack Abbot version—grounded, intimate, and very Jack-coded.

content/warning : pregnancy symptoms, emotional overwhelm, soft marriage vibes, denial, reader in her "i’m fine" era, jack in his "no you're not" era, smut (married, emotionally grounded), pregnancy, food/scent aversion, mild mention of nausea

words : 3,144

You’ve been married to Jack Abbot for thirteen months and a week—but the two of you have been together for four years.

And somehow, you’re still learning him.

Still adjusting to the way he folds his t-shirts into perfect thirds. Still moving his boots away from the front door, even though he always leaves them there. Still catching the way he’ll wait until the lights are off, the blankets pulled up, and then remember one more thing he has to tell you.

You know his rhythms. His moods. The way he kisses you a little differently when he’s worried but won’t say it out loud.

What you sometimes forget is that Jack’s job never really ends—he never really clocks out.

He’s an ER doctor. Which means he’s always watching. Always reading. Always two steps ahead of a problem you haven’t realized is there.

MONDAY – The Morning Slips

The light’s already different when you open your eyes.

Softer. Higher.

You blink at the ceiling, then at the clock.

7:08.

Your breath catches. “Jack?”

You sit up in a rush—sweats and a worn old shirt clinging from sleep—and nearly trip getting out of bed. He’s not next to you. Your alarm isn’t ringing. Your phone is somehow still on Do Not Disturb.

“Jack?”

“Kitchen,” he calls back, voice calm.

You shuffle into the hallway, hair barely brushed, already calculating how fast you can get dressed and be out the door. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

Jack looks up from the coffee pot. He’s already dressed—scrubs on, ID clipped, stethoscope tucked in his jacket pocket.

“You didn’t even flinch when your alarm went off. I turned it off after the third round.”

You stare at him. “You let me oversleep?”

“You never sleep through your alarm,” he says, stepping toward you with a travel mug in one hand and a piece of toast in the other. “So I figured something was up.”

You groan. “I’ve got Q1 projections due today.”

“I emailed Rhonda. Told her you were running late.”

You blink. “You emailed my boss?”

“She sent back a thumbs up emoji.’”

Your laugh comes out surprised. “She would do that.”

“I made your coffee. It’s in the mug with the chip you like.” He hands it to you. “No cream. You’ve been skipping it lately.”

You frown. “Have I?”

Jack just nods. “You said it tasted too sweet last week.”

You take a sip. Still feels off—but you smile at him anyway.

“Thanks.”

He leans down and kisses your forehead. “Go shower. I laid out your dark gray sweater—the one you like for presentation days. Pants are on the chair.”

You freeze. “You picked out my clothes?”

“Only because I figured you’d be half-asleep and half-angry. I’m avoiding both.”

“You’re a menace,” you say, but it’s soft.

“You married me anyway.”

He brushes your hair back, fingers lingering a second too long at your temple.

“You okay?” you ask.

“Me? I’m great.”

“You’re looking at me weird.”

He shrugs. “I think I’m just impressed.”

“With what?”

“How well I know you.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re smug before 8 a.m.”

“I’ve earned it,” he says, nudging you toward the bedroom. “Go get ready. Your spreadsheet empire awaits.”

Thirty minutes later, as you’re rushing out the door with your laptop bag and still-wet hair, you find a granola bar tucked into your coat pocket.

The one you always forget you like until you’re starving at 10 a.m.

You don’t remember saying anything about needing one.

But Jack knows.

Of course he knows.

TUESDAY – Heels and Sore Feet

When you come through the door, Jack’s already in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, dish towel slung over his shoulder like he’s been home a little while—but not long enough to fully settle.

You kick off your work shoes in the entryway, wincing slightly as you press your toes into the hardwood. “Remind me again why I thought real leather heels were a good investment.”

Jack leans back from the sink and tilts his head toward you. “Because they were on clearance and you were feeling powerful.”

“Right.” You flex your feet. “Power comes at a cost.”

“Come here.”

You shuffle toward him, dropping your tote bag by the counter. He doesn’t kiss you yet—just takes your hand and guides you to sit at one of the stools. Then he crouches, gently lifting your foot into his lap.

“Jack,” you laugh, “you do not need to—”

He starts massaging your arch with his thumb, firm and slow. “You’ve been on these all day. Let me.”

You lean back with a sigh. “This is how you trap me. You pretend to do the dishes, then you pamper me into silence.”

He smiles but doesn’t look up. “Worked yesterday.”

You wiggle your toes and close your eyes. “Feels so good it’s kind of criminal.”

“Good,” he murmurs.

He glances up just once—and clocks the light puffiness in your ankles.

He doesn’t say anything.

Just moves to your other foot.

After dinner—simple roasted veggies and couscous, eaten off the same two mismatched plates you’ve had since your first apartment—he walks behind you and wraps his arms around your waist while you’re rinsing your glass.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he says into your shoulder.

“Just thinking about that ridiculous Excel model I have to finish.”

He kisses your hair. “Take tomorrow slow if you can.”

You nod, but your hand rests gently over his where it sits across your middle.

You don’t notice it.

Jack does.

He says nothing.

WEDNESDAY – The Bloat Debate

You’re standing in front of the hallway mirror, poking at your stomach with the kind of exaggerated annoyance only someone married can safely get away with.

Jack walks by on his way to the bedroom, dressed down in sweatpants and a t-shirt, pausing when he sees your face in the reflection.

“You good?” he asks, leaning casually against the doorframe.

You sigh dramatically. “I look like I swallowed a beach ball.”

Jack walks up behind you, eyes meeting yours in the mirror. “A small one, maybe. Like a decorative beach ball.”

You shoot him a sharp look. “Jack.”

He holds up both hands. “Hey. You brought it up.”

“I said I feel bloated. I didn’t ask for live commentary.”

He smiles and wraps his arms loosely around your waist, hands resting over the area you were just inspecting. “You’re the one poking yourself like a Pillsbury commercial.”

You snort. “I’m serious. None of my pants fit right this week. I sat down today and my waistband tried to fight me.”

“You’ve been eating the same stuff. Drinking water?”

“Barely. Work’s been insane.”

He kisses your temple. “Could be stress. Could be timing. Or maybe your body’s still sorting through Monday night’s gourmet masterpiece.”

You squint at him. “What masterpiece?”

“The one where you ate dill pickles, white cheddar popcorn, and two spoonfuls of peanut butter. In that order.”

You pause. “…It hit the spot.”

Jack grins. “Sure it did. My stomach was scared just watching.”

“You didn’t stop me.”

“I was afraid to interfere.”

You smirk. “You should be.”

He grins. “Noted.”

You shake your head, laughing, then rest your hands over his. “You sure it doesn’t look like anything?”

Jack doesn’t answer right away.

Because it does.

Not in a dramatic way. But he knows your shape. Your weight. The way your body settles against his at night. And lately, something’s… shifted.

Still, he kisses your shoulder and says simply, “You’re still the best thing I’ve ever looked at.”

You roll your eyes, leaning back into him. “Suck-up.”

He hugs you tighter. “Only for you.”

THURSDAY – The Blanket Negotiation

You’re on the couch by the time Jack gets home—already in pajamas, legs tucked under you, remote in hand, a bag of sour candy opened beside a half-finished cup of tea.

He walks in, shrugs out of his coat, and takes in the scene like a man walking into a painting he’s seen every day for four years and still isn’t over.

“You started without me,” he says.

“You’re twenty minutes late. Statute of limitations has passed.”

Jack walks over, leans down to kiss you, and pauses.

He looks at the bag of sour candy. Then the tea. Then back at you.

“That combo feels… bold.”

You shrug. “It’s balance. My body wanted chaos and comfort.”

He slides onto the couch beside you. “Didn’t you say your grilled cheese was ‘too much’ at lunch?

You sigh. “It was aggressive. The cheese had opinions.”

Jack laughs softly. “And now you're chasing it with citrus acid and sleepytime tea.”

You offer him a sour gummy. “Don’t question the system. Just participate.”

He takes one. “Yes, ma’am.”

Jack tries to nudge the blanket to him. You hold your edge tighter. “I got cold first.”

“I just walked in from outside.”

“You’ve got more body heat.”

He squints. “You’re hoarding it.”

“You’re late and you didn’t text. I get blanket privileges and first pick on snacks.”

He laughs, raising his hands in surrender. “I can’t argue with that logic.”

You smirk and finally shift, letting him under the blanket.

Once settled, he rests his hand on your leg—his thumb absently drawing circles near your knee while your attention returns to the screen.

You’re focused on the show.

Jack’s focused on you.

The blanket drapes across your midsection, and he notices the slight pressure you’ve been keeping there all week—how your hand keeps resting just under your ribs like your body’s trying to say something your brain hasn’t caught yet.

He doesn’t bring it up.

Instead, he leans a little closer.

“You feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” you mumble. “Just tired. I’ve been tired all week.”

He nods. “You’ve been going hard.”

“I haven’t touched laundry all week. I’m down to mismatched socks and silent prayers.”

Jack smiles softly. “Want me to run a load?”

“You did the last one.”

“I’m on a streak.”

You lean your head on his shoulder. “I married well.”

“You did.”

FRIDAY – The Way You Feel Tonight

It starts when you straddle his hips.

Jack’s back is against the headboard, pillows kicked aside, and you’re already skin-on-skin—his t-shirt discarded on the floor, yours halfway up your ribs. You’re in nothing but underwear, palms on his chest, nails dragging lightly across the sparse hair there.

He watches you like he’s trying to burn the image into memory.

“You sure you’re not too sore from the gym yesterday?” you tease, rolling your hips just enough to make his breath hitch.

“Positive,” he says. “Although if I die right now, I want it on record this was worth it.”

You grin. “Noted.”

His hands slide up your thighs slowly, thumbs pressing into the backs like he’s reading your muscles through the skin. Then his touch goes gentle. Palming. Bracing.

But when they move up to your waist, they stop.

His fingers settle across your lower belly, just under your navel. Familiar territory. But it doesn’t feel quite the same.

The curve is a little firmer. Rounder. Not bloated—different.

You keep moving over him, unaware. His eyes never leave your face.

“You okay?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow.

Jack refocuses. “Yeah. Just... distracted.”

“You can stare later,” you say, lifting your hips to tug your underwear down. “Hands now. Mouth soon.”

“God, I love you,” he mutters.

“Then prove it.”

He flips you onto your back, mouth already at your collarbone, breath warm, kisses slow. He trails one hand between your legs and groans when he finds you wet and ready, slicker than usual.

You pull him down with a hand behind his neck. “Come on.”

But he’s still slow.

Like he’s measuring.

Like he’s trying to feel every millimeter of you, confirm what he already suspects.

You’re tighter. Not tense. Just changed.

You gasp as he eases inside. “Jesus—”

It’s good. So good. His hips rock into you slow, steady, deep. One of your legs hooks over his back, heel pressed to his side, chasing friction.

Every time he hits just right, your hand fists in the sheets. Your moans are breathless, open-mouthed, involuntary.

Jack watches your face like it holds answers. His pace stays smooth, even as you start to beg.

“Jack,” you gasp, eyes fluttering. “Harder.”

He gives you what you want. A little more pressure. A little less space between his body and yours.

You feel full. Stretched. But not uncomfortable.

You feel held.

And when you come—hard, back arching, fingers digging into his shoulder—he follows seconds after, groaning your name into your skin like he’s never said anything truer.

He brushes your hair back, fingertips trailing your temple.

“You’ve been looking at me weird all night,” you murmur.

Jack smiles. “No, I haven’t.”

You lift an eyebrow. “You were studying me.”

“I was watching you.”

“Same thing.”

He doesn’t respond.

He just presses his hand to your stomach again—light, thoughtful, like he’s grounding himself more than anything.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Don’t get sappy on me now.”

Jack just smiles.

“I’m already in deep,” he says quietly.

You kiss him once, quick. “Weirdo.”

SATURDAY – The Vendor You Walked Away From

It’s just after noon when you stop by the market. Something normal. Familiar. Something you and Jack do when there’s nowhere else you need to be.

You loop through the vendors casually, fingers brushing the edge of a produce crate, checking for ripeness. Jack keeps pace beside you, a canvas tote slung over one shoulder. He doesn’t say much. He doesn’t have to. He’s just watching the way you move.

You’ve always been precise. Sharp, even in small motions.

But today, there’s hesitation.

You reach for a bunch of mint, fingers brushing the stems—then pause.

Jack notices before you say anything.

You pull your hand back, subtle, and move on to the next table without a word.

At the bakery stall, you order for both of you. Jack takes a bite of the rosemary bread. You don’t touch yours.

He watches you stare at it for a few seconds too long.

“I’ll eat it later,” you say finally, tucking the paper bag into the tote. “Not in the mood right now.”

He doesn’t press. Just nods, and walks with you.

Fifteen minutes later, you pass a vendor handing out samples of honey and cheese—something you’d normally stop for. Your eyes flick over the setup, then move away quickly. Not forced. But intentional.

You keep walking.

Jack stays silent until you’re halfway to the car.

“Did that smell bother you?”

You glance at him. “What?”

“The cheese. You looked at it like it turned your stomach.”

You shake your head. “No. I just didn’t want it.”

He nods once. Doesn’t push.

You unlock the car. He loads the bag in the backseat. You slide into the passenger side and adjust the seatbelt low.

He notices that too.

On the way home, the radio’s low. You’re watching traffic, thumb tapping absently against the console.

Jack glances at your profile once. Then again.

“You’ve been different this week,” he says.

You don’t look at him. “So have you.”

There’s no bite in it. Just quiet truth.

He exhales through his nose. “That’s fair.”

You turn your head finally. “Is there something you’re not saying?”

Jack watches the road. His hands stay steady on the wheel.

“No,” he says after a pause. “You’ll say it first.”

SUNDAY – Three Weeks Late

It’s just after 11. The laundry’s done. The dishwasher’s running. You’ve wiped down the counters twice.

You’re standing at the fridge, pinning up a receipt, when your eyes catch the calendar.

Your stomach dips.

You count the days with your finger—slowly, carefully, like you don’t quite trust yourself.

One. Two. Three—

Three weeks late.

Not five days. Not “I think I skipped one.” Three.

You turn your head toward the living room. Jack’s on the couch, half-sunken into the cushions, phone in hand, scrolling through the news without really reading it. His coffee sits untouched on the table. One leg stretched out, the other—his prosthetic—resting beside him like it always is when he’s home and grounded, the kind of settled comfort only the two of you know by feel.

You don’t mean to say it yet.

But it’s out before you can take it back.

“Jack?”

He looks up instantly. “Yeah?”

You stay by the fridge, fingertips grazing the door like it’s anchoring you.

“I’m... three weeks late.”

There’s a long pause.

Jack doesn’t move right away. Just watches you—quiet, focused, already reading every inch of your face.

Then, calmly, he leans forward.

His movements are familiar: practiced, unfussy. He shifts to the edge of the couch, pulls the prosthetic toward him, and straps it on like he’s done a thousand times—smooth, sure, muscle memory in every motion.

You don’t speak. Just watch him move through it with the same quiet purpose he’s carried through every hard season of your life together.

When he stands, it’s quiet—just the familiar click of the prosthetic locking in and the muted slide of his socked foot across the hardwood.

He crosses to you without hurry.

When he stops in front of you, his voice is low. Certain.

“Do you want to take a test?”

You nod.

“I don’t have one.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah, you do.”

You blink.

“Top drawer,” he says simply. “I bought one Monday.”

You stare at him. “You—what?”

Jack shrugs. “I figured you’d see it when you were ready.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “You’re not even a little surprised?”

He steps closer, voice low, steady. “You’ve been different. Not in a bad way—just… off your rhythm. You’ve been switching between hoodies in the middle of the day like none of them fit right. You keep standing at the fridge and forgetting what you opened it for. And your leftover curry—the one you swore was better the second day? You didn’t even take a bite.”

You stare at him. “You kept track of all of that?”

“I love you. I notice you.”

You go quiet.

Then reach for his hand.

“Come with me?”

“Of course.”

You sit on the bathroom counter while the test processes. Jack stands beside you, leaning against the sink. Neither of you talk. There’s nothing left to say.

You both look down at the result at the same time.

Positive.

You exhale like it’s the first full breath you’ve taken all week.

Jack rests his hand gently on the counter behind you—not pushing, just there.

Your voice breaks the silence.

“We’re really doing this.”

Jack nods. “We already are.”

You smile—small, but it stays.

And Jack leans in, brushing a kiss to your temple like it’s the easiest thing he’s ever done.