#Tuck Top Packaging Boxes

[wepackmachine]

Tuck-top Box Packing Machine for TDS Tester https://worldepack.com/cartoning-machine-with-tuck/

[customboxes01]

Unlocking The Potential Of Custom Tuck End Boxes For Your Brand

Also, packaging isn’t about just enclosing a product but it is also about making the consumer experience with the brand a better one. Tuck end boxes are one of the best and most versatile packaging solutions that appear to be strong enough and give a quality look. These boxes are used in almost every business ranging from retail firms or food businesses as they are convenient and good to look at. There could not be a better type of box to pack some products as these tuck-end ones will add convenience and sturdiness at the same time. Whether it is for print services, branding, or making one's products easily recognizable, custom tuck end boxes remain quite an effective form of packaging. In this article, the author aims to elucidate various features and uses of tuck-end boxes which will revolutionize your packaging needs, enhance your branding solutions, and even provide for product or product line needs.

What Are Custom Boxes?

Tuck-end boxes refer to cardboard-based banding with both ends of the boxes having a tuck flap. The tuck end design offers closure to SNAP Retailer products in a way that makes them tamper-proof and also readily accessible to consumers. This type of box has a possibility for the widest range of products, it’s perfect for cosmetics, small electronics, food, and gift products. This is important since custom tuck end boxes can be created in the specific requirement size of your product. It also guarantees the vehicles fit better, allowing the use of less filler material and ultimately reducing the environmental impact. Other possible modifications are contained in the selection of the materials, colors, sizes, and finishes that you associate with your brand identity.

Advantages Of Box 

Custom tuck-end boxes provide convenience as one of the main benefits of this type of packaging. It is for this reason that they can be assembled within the shortest time possible and make mass packaging processes easier. This design also enables easy opening and closing and therefore ensures that the customer has an easy time when opening the contents of a tuck end pack. Furthermore, custom top tuck boxes with logos offer very good structural enhancing benefits, they give protection to the product included inside in terms of shipping and transport. They also have very high flexibility in their design, and this makes it possible for a business to design their packaging in a special way to suit their packages on the shelves.

Various Industries

Whether one is producing snacks and beverages, cosmetics, or electronic equipment, custom tuck end boxes can be manufactured to fit any industry. This makes them versatile for use by businesses of all sizes and of various product densities, shapes, and forms. Especially for the food industry, custom tuck end boxes are ideal for holding snacks candies, and even baked goods. Some of the uses in the cosmetics industries include packaging of skin products and treatments, perfumes among other luxury products. In the same way, electronics firms can use them to pack small gadgets or other related accessories.

Importance In Branding

Custom-printed tuck box covers are an excellent promotional product. Some of these boxes contain low-quality prints and thus, it is possible to have good colors, the position of the logos, and other qualities that would appeal to the buyers of the containers. From simple text to a more complex graphic, you can put your brand logo and identity into your packaging and let the custom printing be the showcase. Custom tuck boxes aside from promoting and establishing brand recall also ensure that your clients have an excellent unboxing experience. An excellent print done to the tuck box creates a unique look and can do a lot in developing the customer base.

Perfect For Packaging

Tuck end boxes wholesale packaging because of the possibility to use materials elaborated to the smallest detail and the question of cost is also solved. Wholesale manufacturers can purchase these boxes in large quantities As we see these boxes have a basic design making it easier forुआers to assemble without having to spend too much on labor. In addition, the flexibility of these boxes is well demonstrated since they can be made in various sizes to suit different products. Companies can also negotiate for this when in large quantity, making custom tuck end boxes a cost-effective solution for a company that requires lots of packaging.

Sustainable Packaging Solution

Hence, quickly the demand for environmentally friendly packaging products is growing since businesses are also becoming more careful with what they do to the environment and since consumers are also transforming and being environmentally conscious. Tuck end boxes are very special, therefore, custom tuck end boxes are the perfect solution for companies that are concerned with their impact on the environment. These boxes can be designed and developed from recyclable and biodegradable strengthens to guarantee conservation for the local occupants and the enhanced durability of these boxes. Thus, with the help of using friendly tuck-end boxes, the company can ensure the customer of their conscious approach to carrying out sustainable production, which is an essential factor for environmentally aware audiences. This in turn not only helps improve the image of the brand but also captures a rising number of sensitive buyers.

Conclusion

Therefore, custom tuck end boxes are an exemplary solution that can both be functional and attractive. Because of their ability to be used in a wide variety of industries, their low cost for wholesale use, and their customization capabilities, they are a valuable addition to any company wishing to improve its packaging. If you want to change the overall image of your brand, want to give an impressive unboxing experience, or wish to convert your packaging solution into an eco-friendly one, then custom tuck end boxes are the solution to many of these worries. Since custom tuck-end boxes are hard wearing, easy to deploy, and versatile when it comes to design, purchasing these custom kraft boxes is ideal for companies that want to create a distinctive brand. TTTuck-end cartons are the solution you need for your next branding level, try custom tTTuck-end packaging now!

[hopefulcherryblossompatrol]

Surprise Your Audience with Tuck Top Gift Boxes

Tuck-top gift boxes are highly versatile, while Top-shaped boxes are preferred because they are easy to operate and seal. These boxes come with a foldable top that gives the item the best safety and a neater appearance. Many businesses choose Tuck-Top Gift Boxes because when the gift or the product is unwrapped, it has a more elegant appearance.

Flexibility of Custom Tuck Boxes

Custom tuck boxes are perfect for any firm that is aspiring to create its niche in the market. They assist them and provide them with a competitive advantage over other related businesses. Companies offer boxes in different sizes and shapes and can design them in any way possible. They also enable them to coordinate themselves well in packaging in the market to meet the set branding standards. Custom tuck boxes are essential in the retail and gift specialty since they help portray the brand logo color and message. Thus, it contributes to beautifying the product.

Recyclable Tuck Top Gift Boxes

Due to people's increasing concern with environmental matters, Eco-Friendly Tuck Top Gift Boxes have been accepted. These boxes employ environmentally friendly materials like recycled paper or biodegradable cardboard to help minimize their impact. Using Tuck Top gift boxes is an ecologically sound choice and can enhance a company's image.

Tuck Top Gift Box Manufacturing Process

Specific steps in the manufacturing process make Tuck Top Gift Boxes more durable and appealing. These include cutting the material to the required shape and fashioning it with precise folds where needed. The Tuck Top Gift Box Manufacturing process may also include printing and even more complex operations, such as embossing or foiling, to increase the luxury feel and look of the packaging.

Promoting Your Brand with Custom Tuck Boxes

Custom Tuck Boxes are practical tools for creating brand awareness. They design your products with your logo, brand colors, and other design features to ensure customers easily recognize them. This promotional strategy raises awareness, and the image itself works to make customers remember your products.

Advantages of Tuck Top Gift Boxes That are Eco-Friendly

Besides environmental effects, Eco-Friendly Tuck Top Gift Boxes also have other advantages. These boxes appeal to the sensibilities of environmentally conscious consumers, who are willing to purchase from brands that are concerned with the environment. Moreover, Eco-Friendly Tuck Top Gift Boxes can also be obtained with certifications or labels that add to the credibility of your brand.

New Tuck Boxes for Different Sectors

Tuck boxes are a very versatile solution that can be implemented in different industries. It is ideal, starting from retail and ending with the cosmetic and food industries. Due to their flexibility, they are among the best and most preferable solutions for creating a uniform image by businesses. Whether the product is high-end or just a token, custom tuck boxes provide elasticity to suit all packaging requirements.

Tuck Top Gift Boxes: Enhancing the Customer Experience

The appearance of Tuck Top Gift Boxes and their specific performance features have a considerable impact on the customer. They are easy to open and visually appealing, which contributes to the initial favorable perception. This is especially important in gift-giving situations because the packaging of the gift is very relevant to the overall process.

Trends of Tuck Top Gift Box Design for 2024

Experts predict that by 2024, the trend for tuck-top gift box design will shift towards even more minimalistic designs. Future designs will focus on typography and design interaction. Calm and elegant designs, without excessive decorations and using primary colors, will stay popular as the focus will be on the product itself.

The main idea is to design the typography with bright, contrasting colors in order to convey the brand statement unambiguously. Also, some of the tuck-top gift boxes may include a QR code to represent customers with animation and keep them more engaged with the brand.

Customizing Tuck Top Gift Boxes

A significant advantage of Tuck Top Gift Boxes is that there are almost limitless customization choices available. It is highly beneficial for any firm seeking to establish their product packaging as easily recognizable and distinct. Custom Tuck Boxes can perfectly match the brand image by choosing specific materials or fabrics, incorporating the company's greetings, or selecting particular colors. This degree of differentiation enables enterprises to come up with packaging material that will not only safeguard the product but also upgrade its market appeal.

The Advantages of Tuck Top Gift Boxes in the Retail Industry

One of the best strategies in the competitive retail business is packaging because hard selling can be the downfall of a sale. Tuck Top Gift Boxes capture customer attention and significantly influence customers' purchase decisions. The ability to securely close the box while having an appealing exterior design makes them ideal for use in luxury products and gifts. One way that retailers can do this is by selecting Custom Tuck Boxes, as these have the potential to stand out on the shelves. This is especially the case when shopping for gift items, and this comes in handy during the festive seasons.

New Materials for Tuck Top Gift Box

The Tuck Top Gift Box Manufacturing process is thus characterized by the incorporation of new materials to reflect the changes. This trend is also evident in the use of non-conventional materials such as bamboo fiber and recycling materials like plastics. All these materials used in packaging improve the durability of Tuck Top Gift Boxes and aid in sustainability. The advancement in Tuck Top Gift Box Manufacturing makes it possible for businesses to provide packaging that is both ecologically friendly and sustainable to meet consumers' needs.

Conclusion

Tuck Top Gift Boxes and Custom Tuck Boxes provide a variety of advantages to the company and the environment. Tuck Top Gift Box Design plays an essential role in creating a compelling look. Eco-Friendly Tuck Top Gift Boxes meet the needs of the new era of environmentally conscious packaging. The manufacturers design Tuck Top Gift Boxes to be both elegant in appearance and robust enough for shipping and handling. The packaging also makes them suitable for various industries. These packaging solutions are valuable for businesses since they can improve the presentation of products and attract the attention of more consumers.

[pakingduck]

Elevate Your Brand with Custom Packaging for Small Businesses by Paking Duck

In today's competitive market, small businesses need to stand out to capture their audience's attention. One effective way to achieve this is through custom packaging. Custom packaging not only protects your products but also serves as a powerful marketing tool, creating a memorable brand experience for your customers. At Paking Duck, we offer a range of customizable packaging solutions designed to meet the unique needs of small businesses. Let's explore how custom packaging can benefit your brand and highlight some of our popular options, including the Double Wall Frame Tray & Lid, Flip Top Magnetic Lock, and Roll End Tuck Front Corrugated Box.

Custom Packaging for Small Business

Why Custom Packaging Matters for Small Businesses

Brand Identity: Custom packaging allows you to showcase your brand's personality and values. It helps create a cohesive brand image that resonates with your target audience.

Differentiation: In a crowded marketplace, custom packaging sets your products apart from competitors. It grabs attention and makes a lasting impression on customers.

Product Protection: Custom packaging is designed to fit your products perfectly, providing optimal protection during shipping and handling. This reduces the risk of damage and returns.

Marketing Opportunity: Your packaging is a valuable marketing tool. It can include your logo, brand colors, and messaging, effectively promoting your brand to a wider audience.

Customer Experience: Custom packaging enhances the unboxing experience for customers, creating a sense of excitement and anticipation. It can lead to positive reviews and repeat purchases.

Our Custom Packaging Solutions

Double Wall Frame Tray & Lid: This packaging option offers durability and strength, making it ideal for heavier products. The double-wall construction provides added protection, ensuring your products arrive safely.

Double Wall Frame Tray & Lid

Flip Top Magnetic Lock: Our flip-top boxes feature a magnetic closure for a secure and elegant packaging solution. They are perfect for luxury items and gifts, adding a touch of sophistication to your brand.

Flip Top Magnetic Lock

Roll End Tuck Front Corrugated Box: These boxes are easy to assemble and offer excellent protection for your products. The tuck front closure keeps the contents secure, while the corrugated material provides strength and durability.

Roll End Tuck Front Corrugated Box

How to Get Started with Custom Packaging

Assess Your Needs: Determine the size, shape, and design requirements for your custom packaging based on your products and brand.

Design Your Packaging: Work with our design team to create a unique packaging design that reflects your brand identity and resonates with your target audience.

Review and Approve: Once the design is ready, review and approve the final proof before production begins.

Production and Delivery: Sit back and relax as we handle the production and delivery of your custom packaging to your doorstep.

Conclusion

Custom packaging is a powerful tool for small businesses looking to enhance their brand image and create memorable customer experiences. At Paking Duck, we are committed to providing high-quality custom packaging solutions that meet your unique needs. Whether you need the Double Wall Frame Tray & Lid, Flip Top Magnetic Lock, or Roll End Tuck Front Corrugated Box, we have you covered. Elevate your brand with custom packaging from Paking Duck and leave a lasting impression on your customers.

[tsukumomei]

—as long as it's you

ft. Sae Itoshi

summary: everything was in place, but when his mother accidentally reveals the surprise, sae has to improvise. wc. 1.3 k

Sae had it all planned out.

He wasn’t the type to make grand romantic gestures; he preferred to keep things simple and understated. 

But for you, he wanted to try, because he knew you deserved nothing less.

You loved people, gatherings, and celebrations. You thrived in the presence of those you held dear, so he’d taken note of every little thing you loved and orchestrated an evening just for you. Sae rented out the quaint, secluded garden café that had become your spot—a place where you made countless memories with.

The place would be adorned with soft fairy lights, casting a golden glow over the field. To top it all off, he had planned a fireworks display that would light up the night sky with the words: Will you marry me? 

He really was going all out for this.

The tables would be draped in elegant linen and scattered with your favorite flowers. He’d chosen a menu you would love, with dishes catered to every one of your favorites, down to the dessert: the same tiramisu you raved about during your first date.

It's great because it's so unbelievably out-of-character for him to do that you'd never guess it.

And then there was the ring.

He’d spent weeks looking for the perfect one, turning down countless designs until he found a jeweler in Italy who could create something unique—something as special as you. A custom piece: a delicate rose-gold band with a center diamond that sparkled like starlight, flanked by tiny sapphires to match the color of his eyes.

The ring had finally arrived today, nestled in an elegant velvet box. He held it in his hands for a moment, marveling at how something so small could hold so much meaning. The anticipation was almost unbearable, but there was still time to wait. He tucked the box into a drawer in his study before heading out to handle some business, reminding himself to grab it later.

Just as he was leaving, his mother noticed the package in his hand. "What’s that, Sae?" she asked, her tone light and curious.

He hesitated, then gave a faint smile. "Just something for y/n."

But fate, as it often does, had other plans.

Later that afternoon, you dropped by on a whim. "I just wanted to visit," you said with that radiant smile of yours, and Sae’s mother welcomed you warmly. She adored you—always had, ever since you and Sae were kids running around the neighborhood together.

As you chatted with Sae’s mother over tea, her voice turned light and casual, as if she were sharing a harmless little secret. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she said, setting her cup down with a soft clink. “Sae mentioned he got something for you. It’s in the study drawer over there. You should go get it.”

Your eyes immediately lit up with curiosity, a delighted smile spreading across your face. “Really? What is it?!” you asked, excitement bubbling in your tone as you pushed your chair back and made your way toward the study.

Sae’s mother opened her mouth, realizing her mistake too late. “Oh, wait—” she started, but you were already out of earshot.

In the study, you scanned the room quickly before spotting the drawer she mentioned. With eager hands, you pulled it open and found a small, elegant box sitting right on top. The rich, deep velvet of the box alone made your heart race.

You gasped softly, fingers trembling slightly as you lifted it from the drawer. It felt heavier than you expected, the weight somehow adding to the anticipation. Holding your breath, you carefully opened it, and there it was—the engagement ring.

The soft light from the study window caught the diamond, sending a brilliant array of colors dancing across the room. The intricate rose-gold band gleamed, and the tiny sapphires flanking the center stone shimmered like they held a secret of their own.

For a long moment, you were stunned. Your lips parted slightly in disbelief as your heart pounded in your chest. It wasn’t just a ring; it was the ring.

You turned back toward the kitchen, holding the open box in your hand. “Is this…?” you began, but the words trailed off as your eyes met Sae’s mother.

Her expression mirrored your shock—wide-eyed and horrified. Her hands flew to her mouth, her face flushing with the realization of what had just happened.

“Oh no…” you both said in unison, the words hanging in the air like a shared confession.

Sae’s mother shook her head frantically. “I—I didn’t know! He didn’t tell me what it was!” she stammered, clearly panicking.

You let out a nervous laugh, holding up the box. “This is what he got for me?” you asked, voice tinged with disbelief and amusement.

She nodded, still looking mortified. “I think I just ruined everything.”

And that’s how the proposal venue shifted from a dreamy garden setting to the family kitchen.

When Sae came home later that evening, the scene awaiting him was… not what he had envisioned. 

You and his mother were seated at the kitchen table, both looking unusually guilty, like two kids caught raiding the cookie jar.

His mother was the first to react, rushing to him with the velvet box in hand, her words tumbling out in a flurry of apologies. "Sae, I didn’t mean to—I didn’t know—I didn’t think she’d actually open it!"

He blinked, then sighed. Well, so much for surprises.

His gaze shifted to you. There you were, cheeks glowing with embarrassment. He could tell you were trying to act innocent, but the slight twitch of your lips gave you away.

He set the box down on the table and pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something. Then, with a resigned sort of determination, he grabbed the box and turned to you.

“Oh well,” he said with a shrug, his tone deadpan but his eyes soft. “You already know, so I might as well do this now.”

Before you could process what was happening, Sae was down on one knee in the middle of the kitchen, holding the ring up toward you.

“You will marry me,” he said matter-of-factly, already taking your hand. “You don’t have a choice.” He slid the ring onto your finger with the same no-nonsense precision he used in every part of his life.

The sheer audacity of his approach made you burst into laughter. “You’re lucky I wasn’t going to say no even if you did ask properly,” you teased, your smile widening as you admired the ring.

His mother, standing nearby, had already pulled out her phone and was filming the entire thing, tearing up at the unexpected sweetness of the moment.

As Sae stood, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close. Your voice was soft, laced with both joy and disbelief. “So, this is it,” you murmured, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

He gazed down at you, his hands settling gently on your waist, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. His lips curled into the smallest of smiles, but his eyes were filled with so much love it took your breath away. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a warmth that wrapped around your heart. “This is it.”

Sae’s expression shifted slightly, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low. “I had it all planned out, you know? You would’ve loved it—the garden, the lights, the fireworks. It was going to be perfect.” He gave a small, sheepish smile, but his gaze never left yours.

You reached up, cupping his face gently in your hands. “Sae,” you whispered, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “I’d take anything as long as it’s with you.”

The engagement was sealed right there—not in the garden surrounded by flowers and fairy lights, but in the cozy kitchen, filled with the lingering aroma of coffee and laughter, and a witness armed with a smartphone. 

Though it wasn’t the grand, meticulously planned proposal Sae had envisioned, as he looked into your eyes, he realized something important. The sparkle of the ring on your finger paled in comparison to the glow of your smile, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

The garden, with its fairy lights and fireworks, would now be the backdrop for your engagement party—the perfect imperfection of life’s unexpected moments. 

And as you leaned up to kiss him, Sae couldn’t help but think that this, right here, was better than perfect.

—

a/n: I am indeed a victim of the Sae brainrot

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

twenty four, birthday boy | s.r. x fem!reader

“you look very handsome, birthday boy.”

spencer leaned his head back to see you standing beside his desk with your hands behind your back. dressed in a lavender short-sleeved button up paired with a simple black maxi skirt and your simple flats, a subtle smile pairing as your accessory, you looked radiant this morning.

“thank- thank you.” unconscious hand reaching up to mess with the giant birthday cake hat derek forced onto his head. it felt kinda nice to be treated like a kid on his birthday for once.

your eyes went up at the action then back to his face, “got you a present.” taking a small sage green wrapped box with a baby blue ribbon attached from behind your back, giving a tiny shake to it. fingers curled gently to hold the mystery gift outstretched.

“i tried to remember if you mentioned owning it or wanting to. i kept a receipt in cause though.” smile waving just a bit, it made his heart stutter a beat.

“i’d keep it anyway, it was from you.” his own smile twitching from nerves. his statement caused your smile to widen, cheeks scrunching up your eyes. “open it, spence.” you were the only one who calls him that.

finally grabbing the box, his slim fingers brushed over your painted nails before you pulled your arms away, tucking them back behind your back. spencer took his time peeling away the plastic wrapping and shiny bow, wanting to preserve the gift in its entirety. next came a cardboard box and once that was gone it revealed a cartoon figure.

“oh no way!” it was a bobble head figure of the fourth doctor. it was still inside the packaging and spencer was debating if he should keep it inside or take it out and proudly display it. then he noticed the small folded paper taped at the top.

“it’s just a small note slash birthday card.” speaking up after spencer went silent too long. he looked back towards you, “wanted it to be personal.” shrugging off the kind words and action.

slowly peeling the tape from the packaging, spencer set the gift aside so his full attention would be on the words you wrote from your heart. licking his lips then flipping open the small paper he was met with your cursive-print handwriting, he’s been able to understand your scribbled words after the first case.

happy birthday dr. spencer walter reid. yes i know your middle name and yes i got it off garcia, i wont tell though. it’s been a wonderful few months since you’ve joined the department and i couldn’t ask for a better new friend. (don’t tell pen, but you might be my number one now) to many more years together as a family. -love y/n l/n <3

-

a/n: @bringitonhomejohnb a wish has been granted

[rhiannonsknife]

thinking about Jackie surprising reader with a bunny-like pink lingerie set and a new strap for reader to use while she rides it

nsfw content so mdni!! <3

jackie is not beating the bunny allegations on this blog (we’ve had jackie + rabbit vibrator before, now we’ve got the bunny lingerie…)

jackie who pretends she only bought the pink bunny set for you. insists on it, in fact. she plays it off telling herself it’s all for your benefit. she’s just here to treat you!! (even though she enjoys the idea of getting all pretty and dolled up for you just as much…)

jackie who hadn’t planned on buying it at all. she was supposed to be working, her report barely started, with her phone open to check one quick notification. somehow, she ended up five tabs deep into a boutique lingerie site, staring at one particular set. it was silly, completely and utterly over-the-top: soft pink and semi-sheer with delicate lace trimming the edges, the bra made of scalloped mesh and tiny satin bows at the center, as well as a matching garter belt.

jackie who didn’t even think before hitting “add to cart”, too thrilled by the prospect of you looking at her in it.

jackie who hides it the day it arrives. she didn’t tell you a thing about her purchase and pads into the bedroom after dinner, saying she’s just going to “get comfortable”.

when you walk in, she is waiting in bed.

her head is resting on her hand as she is propped up on one elbow. most importantly though, jackie is wearing it, even the bunny ears perched atop her head.

you immediately freeze in the doorway, gaze trailing from her thighs, parted to tease, to the curve of her breasts pressed against tight mesh. “j-jackie. you’re-” you gesture vaguely, fixed on her outfit. “what is this?”

jackie shrugs. “what, this?” her fingers pluck at the tiny pink hem. “you like it?” she asks, trying to play coy despite the blush on her cheeks. “i wasn’t sure it’d look right…”

“jackie,” you swallow audibly. “you look-”

“i got you something too,” jackie interrupts, for once eager to deflect the attention. she reaches over and grabs a black box she’d left on the nightstand. “open it.”

you take it from her, slowly cracking the lid. inside is a sleek new strap, fresh from the package. jackie tucks her bottom lip between her teeth as she watches your expression change. “i figured,” she murmurs. “if i’m gonna surprise you, i should be thorough.”

she sits up until she’s straddling your lap and you instantly feel how hot she is there, pressing your hand between her thighs, where wetness is seeping through the lingerie.

“jesus,” you mutter.

“please,” jackie whispers, bunny ears tilted. “let me feel it.”

five minutes later, and you’ve got everything set up: the harness sits snug around your hips as you lean back, looking up at jackie, who’s (unlike you) still fully dressed in her bunny gear as she crawls up the mattress.

she moves on top of you, exaggerating her movements, making a show of swaying her hips and placing her hands on you. the ears are askew, flopping a little to one side, though jackie doesn’t fix them, her eyes flicking down between your legs.

you tilt your chin toward her. “you sure about this?”

“yeah,” she whispers, nodding eagerly. “i want it.”

you can feel jackie’s thighs clench as she settles over you. her blush has deepened across her cheeks, all the way down to her throat where the mesh cuts in beneath her collarbones.

jackie rocks her hips, gasping as the tip of the strap glides over the already soaked lace. “b-been thinking about it,” she confesses quietly and with her head tipped back. “you…like this. inside me. i couldn’t stop picturing it.”

you groan, your own head falling against the headboard as your grip on her thighs tightens. “jackie…”

her nails dig lightly into your shoulders. she’s shaking, high on anticipation, but her eyes don’t leave yours. “i- i want you to fuck me with it,” she says. “still dressed. i want you to keep me like this. make me feel pretty.”

“you are pretty,” you say, gripping her hips to guide her.

jackie gasps as you pull her closer, the pressure of the strap rubbing against soaked lace. “you look-” you start, then shake your head. “god, bunny? really?”

jackie smiles. “it was on sale,” she says conversationally, grinding forward. “and i thought- hm, god- i thought you’d like it.”

you nod, thrusting gently up into her. the friction makes jackie’s eyes flutter shut, a soft moan escaping her throat.

with your fingers in the waistband of her panties, you drag the fabric aside. the second the silicone tip touches bare skin, jackie jolts forward with a whimper, burying her face in your neck.

“you’re soaked,” you groan, not even teasing, just in awe. “you really wanted this.”

“wanted you!”

the bunny ears shift as jackie finally sinks down, gasping when she feels the full stretch of the strap inside her. her hips stutter, muscles fluttering as she tries to take it all at once. “so good- fuck, it’s so good-”

she holds onto your shoulders for balance, whining softly as she starts to move. she’s blushing again, shy in a way you don’t often see from jackie taylor, but her cunt clenches around you with each roll of her hips, her arousal leaking down onto your lap.

you watch her and the flushed face, the trembling thighs, the ridiculous pink ears bobbing with every movement. you reach up to fix them gently, fingers threading into her hair. “doing such a good job, bunny” you say, and jackie makes a noise so needy it punches straight through you.

she bites her lip, rides harder.

“yours,” she whimpers. “god, always yours. just…please, keep going.”

[foxtrology]

prompt 55.....lucy needs to stop disturbing harry and his family...but i would like to see how it would play out 😌😌

dad! harry castillo

prompt 55: lucy sends a gift “for the baby.” it arrives a year late. harry throws it away without opening it.

prompt list

⸻

The box came on a Thursday.

The sky was grey, but not in a dramatic, stormy way—just muted, like the world was still exhaling from the night before. The waves were soft in the distance. Montauk was quiet in the way they’d hoped it would be. No city hum. No elevator buzz. Just breeze and wood and the sound of Adella’s sleepy breaths against his chest.

She was strapped to him in the sling they’d both fought about learning how to use. She hated it at first—tiny fists flailing, cheeks hot from crying—but now? She loved it. Or maybe she just loved him. The steady way his heartbeat moved beneath her ear. The way he always hummed that half-remembered jazz song when he was trying to calm her. The way his hands, so capable and sure in every other part of his life, moved slow and reverent when they touched her.

She was six months. Soft and small and devastating in her power. She’d cried all morning, just wanted to be held. And Harry—he wasn’t taking meetings anymore. Not like he used to. He still checked in. Still had things to approve, numbers to skim. But it didn’t rule him.

Not here.

Not now.

Not with his daughter asleep against his chest and his wife curled in their bed, napping with a book still open against her thigh.

He was carrying a mug of lukewarm coffee when the knock came. Not even a knock, really. Just a thump. Then a soft thud as the package landed on the porch.

He opened the door slowly, careful not to jostle Adella.

She didn’t stir. Her mouth still slack, a little string of drool dampening the sling near the embroidered “A.”

Harry looked down at the box.

Brown. Plain. No frills.

The return address made his jaw go hard.

L. Mason

Lucy.

There was no note. No frilly gift wrap. No silver embossed card.

Just a scrawl on the shipping label.

For the baby.

He stood there for a long time.

Just staring.

Adella shifted slightly. Let out a soft sigh.

Harry’s fingers curled around the edge of the box.

He carried it inside like it was toxic. Set it on the kitchen counter. Stared at it again.

The room was still. The windows slightly cracked. The ocean air moved through the house like it had been invited.

He didn’t open it.

Didn’t need to.

It didn’t matter what was inside.

A onesie? A book? Some sentimental attempt at a peace offering she probably wrapped months ago, meaning to send it when Adella was born, before she realized he wouldn’t respond. Before she understood that he'd built a life that didn’t have a single space left for her name.

Too late.

Too far gone.

Too much love already rooted in the soil of something real.

He reached down and pressed his palm against Adella’s back. She was warm. Safe. Tucked against his chest like a secret.

He looked down the hall, toward the bedroom.

She was there.

Sleeping on her side, one arm outstretched, hair a mess on the pillow, tank top askew. Her breathing was even. Calm.

She’d been exhausted lately. Long nights, feeding every few hours, trying to stay ahead of the bone-deep fatigue that came with new motherhood. But she still smiled when she saw him each morning. Still reached for him across the sheets like it was instinct.

She trusted him with everything.

And that? That was sacred.

So he walked to the bed. Slowly. Gently.

Lowered himself to the edge.

He untied the sling with practiced fingers.

Lifted Adella from his chest and laid her carefully on the bed beside her mother. She stirred once, lips pursing, but didn’t wake. Just curled naturally toward the warmth beside her.

Harry watched them both for a moment.

The two halves of his soul.

Then he stood again.

Walked back to the kitchen.

Took the box from the counter.

Didn’t hesitate.

Walked it right outside to the bin near the back gate and dropped it in without a sound.

The lid closed with a soft thunk.

No drama.

No note.

No regret.

He didn’t care what Lucy thought she was doing. Didn't care if it was some last-ditch reach for relevance or an attempt at rewriting the story.

She’d left him in a penthouse full of glass and granite and ghosts.

She broke his heart before he ever got to give it to her fully.

But this?

What he had now?

This was his life.

This was home.

He walked back inside.

Washed his hands.

Poured fresh coffee.

Then returned to the bedroom, mug in one hand, Adella’s bunny in the other.

He found them exactly as he left them.

She’d curled her hand over the baby’s stomach in her sleep.

Adella was still out, cheeks pink, lips slightly parted.

He slid back into the bed.

Set the mug on the nightstand.

Lay down facing them.

One arm curled beneath his pillow, the other reaching to brush hair from his wife's eyes.

She stirred.

Blinking sleepily.

“Mm?”

“It’s nothing,” he whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

She let her eyes drift shut again.

But her hand found his under the blanket.

Held it.

And he stayed there like that for hours.

Watching the girls he’d die for sleep like they belonged to him.

Because they did.

And no box, no memory, no ex-lover’s shadow could ever take that away.

[adore-laur]

FOR THE THIRD TIME

——

It's the usual time of night when Harry prepares his mind and body for a healthy eight hours of undisturbed sleep. And by undisturbed, that doesn't include being woken up by either of his daughters. It's not so much an interruption as it is a natural part of being a father. With years of practice, he's now a master of curing midnight wakings from nightmares, sugar rushes, sicknesses, and those fussy sleep regression phases.

Secretly, he loves the challenge and reward of it all. There's nothing better than calming a baby's cry or tiring out a toddler's hyperactive brain. Even when he does it while half-asleep, the feeling of being needed by his children is unparalleled.

After putting the kids to bed, Harry has a set of rules for himself: take a scorching hot shower, drink a mug of chamomile tea, and put away his phone and laptop. It creates an inner warmth that relaxes him from top to bottom. After expeditious kitchen shifts followed by hands-on parenting, the last thing he wants is eyestrain and an aching pulse at his temples.

He'll often read a mystery or historical fiction novel to guide his thoughts away from work. It's a simple pleasure to get lost in the pages, lit only by the bedside lamp as his eyelids grow heavy. He'll bookmark whatever page is the culprit of his sleepiness and save it for tomorrow. No printed words are worth a crick in his neck. Afterward, you'll eventually join him, and he'll spend his last minutes of consciousness with his skin pressed against yours, breathing in your familiar scent.

Tonight's routine goes a little differently, courtesy of you. Harry manages to take a shower, adding a dose of meditation toward the end, and is blow-drying his hair when you peek your head past the bedroom doorway. Your gaze searches for him, roving over the empty bed and open closet until it lands on him standing in the connected bathroom. He shuts the dryer off, sensing you have something of importance to tell him. You're dressed in pajamas already, the matching silk two-piece hugging your curves and providing him with glimpses of skin he was deprived of all day. Lord knows the thin material draped over your bare breasts will be the cause of greedy, wandering hands under the covers later. He nearly groans just thinking about it.

Blinking himself out of that lovely fantasy, Harry lifts his eyes back up to your face. "Hi, baby," he says, setting the dryer down and fluffing his unruly hair in the mirror. There is something so intimate about seeing his and your reflection right before bedtime, in the low light after a long day. The domestic simplicity of living together, sharing a space, and coming home to each other is a delight he always revels in.

"Hey," you say, smiling and leaning against the doorjamb. "I'll wait until you're done."

Still staring at you in the mirror, Harry grips the sink's edge and hangs his head dramatically. "Why must you torture me with those pajamas?"

You roll your eyes. "Oh, please. You sleep nearly naked every night."

He finds you in the mirror again, his eyes heavy with lust. "And does it torture you?"

"I'll never tell," you reply, although a pretty blush stains your cheeks—a clear giveaway.

He smirks and says, "Give me a second. I'll be right there." He turns his attention back to his hair, but not before catching a brief flash of you practically skipping to the bed. With a warm feeling caressing his heart, he digs through the vanity drawer and finishes his routine, which consists of a spritz of sea salt spray in his curls, two swipes of Old Spice deodorant on his armpits, and a layer of maple-flavored lip balm that you'll probably—most definitely—kiss off within the next hour.

Flicking the light off, Harry makes his way to where you're sitting on the bed with a taped cardboard box in front of your tucked knees. It's only the size of half a shoebox. He sits and rests his back against the upholstered headboard, waiting for you to speak.

"Did you order a package from somewhere?" you ask, pushing the box toward him.

Harry frowns, his eyes narrowing as he tries to recall purchasing anything online recently. "I don't believe so. Why, did you?"

"No. It was on the front porch." You shrug, also confused by the mysterious box. "Must have just gotten delivered."

"Huh," he says. There's no return address, just a To: Harry Styles, and it leaves him stumped. Is it from a neighbor? A secret admirer? A stalker who is currently watching him through the window and waiting for him to open it?

New fear unlocked: a box with unknown origins.

Tearing his suspicious eyes away from the window—where thankfully no one lurks—he picks the box up and shakes it cautiously. Something inside shuffles, sounding like a solid object cushioned by something softer. Good grief, did he order something nonsensical while somnolent?

"I'm scared," Harry says bluntly.

You take the box and flip it all around like there could be a message hidden somewhere. Grinning, you say, "This is exciting. I love surprises."

"Then you should open it."

"Let's open it together," you suggest, crawling into his lap. With your back against his chest, Harry rubs his tired eyes and silently agrees. Sleep will only come harder if that unopened box sits menacingly throughout the night.

You seem unfazed by this random occurrence, but that's just how you are. The woman he married embraces the unpredictability of life and coaxes the curious nature he thought he grew out of as an adult. Now, staring at the harmless box, Harry follows your lead and digs his fingers into the topmost slit covered with flimsy tape. The cardboard gives way, and he opens the flaps slowly as if a wild animal might leap out.

He notices you aren't looking at the box's contents. Your eyes are trained on him; the eager expression you previously wore is now softened.

"What's in there?" you ask, your thumb stroking the intrinsic lines and curves of his palm.

Harry looks from you to the box several times, not understanding the shift in mood. You nod, encouraging him to reveal the secret. He discovers a white fleece blanket, small enough in size for his brain to fire a synapse that he can't quite comprehend just yet.

"A blanket," he says with utter confusion. "Who would send me this?" When you quirk your lips to the side, he takes a shot in the dark. "Is this from you?"

"I don't know. Let's see the blanket." Your voice has gotten hushed.

Harry carefully takes it out, the material soft and lush. Again, he realizes it's small, not large enough to cover a full-grown person. Not even a toddler.

At that moment, during those few seconds where Harry's brain connects the dots, is when he shakes the blanket out and reads the embroidered words Baby Styles. He freezes, staring at the cursive letters stitched delicately into... a baby blanket. As he tries to process everything, you set a pregnancy test in his loose grasp, the lightweight plastic heavy with significance. His body jolts with awareness as he frantically holds it under the lamp, his hands beginning to shake. The two lines are as clear as day. Not faint. Not just a possibility. Positive.

It isn't a complete surprise. There were serious, sit-down conversations about growing the family one more time. Questions of, Are we ready for another one? and When's the right time? were answered with mutual confidence. Then it was just a matter of trying, though not as stringently as the last two times. If it was meant to be, it would happen. There was no rush. There's beauty in taking things slow and not relying on hope alone. It requires patience, maybe even a little fate, and now Harry fully understands that good things come to those who wait.

"I'm pregnant," you whisper in his ear, not able to contain the joyous laugh that punctuates your statement.

Harry falls back on the bed and stares at the ceiling with blurred vision. "This is real, right? You're not pranking me?"

You straddle his bare torso, beaming at him like an angel. "I tricked you with the box. But this—" you grab the test and vulnerably hold it in your palms—"is real. We have an appointment in two weeks."

Harry sits up quickly, anchors himself to your waist, and pulls you back down on the mattress with him. You giggle, limbs tangled and breathless with excitement. "Fuck," he says, kissing every inch of your neck. "I've been dreaming of this." He brushes your hair back with gentle fingers. "Another baby."

"Could be twins or triplets. You never know."

"Wouldn't that be something?" he muses, not even mildly frightened of that inconceivable thought.

Happy tears drip from your lashes. "I'm sure it won't feel real until, well, you know..."

Yeah, he knows. He had the privilege of watching you bloom twice. Each time was slightly different, with varying symptoms and measurements. What remained the same was your radiant beauty that somehow became even more pronounced as the pregnancies progressed. It was remarkable to witness. He couldn't believe you were able to create life so gracefully.

You take Harry's hand and place it on your lower stomach. There's no physical proof since it's far too early, yet he knows it will sneak up on him, and before long, he'll be cradling a crying baby in his arms. For the third time.

"Can we keep this a secret?" Harry asks quietly. "At least until you have a cute bump that can't be ignored anymore."

"Can you keep it a secret?" you tease. The last two pregnancies were revealed to family and friends, both times spoiled by him. Apparently, he was making it obvious by the way he touched you and the "hints" he wasn't aware he was dropping. The first time, during a summer get-together with your side of the family, he honestly doesn't remember holding your cousin's baby girl and cheekily saying, "I'm preparing." The backyard went eerily silent until you shouted the news to save his ass from fumbling through some half-baked explanation. The second time, during Christmas dinner, he really doesn't remember his hand drifting so evidently to your bump that you hid under a loose sweater. He may have been tipsy, so when his mother pulled him into the hallway and gave him a knowing look, he couldn't help but nod bashfully to confirm her motherly intuition.

"I'll be good, I promise," Harry says, making a show of locking lips and throwing away the key.

You cup his cheeks and attach your mouth to his. He melts into your sweet, tender kiss that he can't live without. "It doesn't matter to me. But I definitely want to get past the first trimester in case..." Your voice trails off, and Harry nods to show he understands the unspoken prospect.

"I guess I'm just feeling protective already," he murmurs, his hand traveling down your thigh. "I want you and this secret all to myself."

"You're a greedy, greedy man," you say, shifting your hips.

He groans. "It's these damn pajamas."

"Oh, you have nine months of torture ahead. You know why?"

"Why, sweetheart?"

You sigh. "Because there will come a time when these pajamas won't fit anymore. And poor me will be in the third trimester in the late summer, which means it'll be too hot to wear anything to bed."

Harry's jaw hangs open, filthy fantasies flashing through his mind at warp speed. "Yeah? Well damn, I better take advantage of the precious time I have left with them." He snaps the waistband of your shorts.

You laugh loudly, the sound filling the room like it was always meant to, and Harry takes it as an invitation to dive under the silk.

——

[syncaleb]

a little self indulgent but… since i am a nail extensions connoisseur-> i love thinking about how caleb would help me through it! <3

caleb being your acrylic prince: headcanons

🍎 buttoning your tops (and unbuttoning too)

he’s so focused when he helps you button your blouse in the morning, brows furrowed like he’s solving a world crisis. “hold still, pipsqueak,” he murmurs, trying not to touch your skin too much… but whoops, his fingers linger just a little bit when brushing against your collarbone. he can’t help it, he is touchstarved and you are the only person who helps him feel better hmph!! later? he’ll cheekily whisper, “now i get to unbutton them too, yeah?” dork (you love him)

🍎 opening your soda can

he hears that sad sigh from across the room when you’re staring at the tab. you can open it but you just got your nails done and you dread opening it!!! fret not — he’s already coming over, cracking it open with one thumb, and grinning like a smug golden retriever. “say thank you~” you roll your eyes, and he adds, “nope, not good enough. say ‘caleb, you’re my strong soda-opening hero.’”

🍎 tying your shoelaces

you stand there, foot out, princess-mode activated. he crouches, tying them slow and dramatic, teasing,“didn’t know i was dating royalty. should i curtsy next?” still ties them into cute little bows. always double knots them. always tugs once and says, “there. safe and tight. like me ‘round your pinky.” you can tie your shoelaces of course but caleb… being caleb. shruggie 🤷🏻‍♀️

🍎 helping with jewelry clasps

you hate doing them with acrylics, and he knows it. so he wordlessly takes the necklace from your hand and fastens it behind your neck. he tucks your hair gently aside, kisses the nape of your neck, and says, “there. pretty thing deserves to be adorned.”

🍎 peeling stickers or opening packaging

you just hold out the box with that pouty face. he snorts but takes it. “seriously? this again?” still does it. every. time. even carries a mini pocket knife now just for your convenience. “i’m like your… acrylic support boyfriend.” “yes, you are.” “wait, is that even hot?” “yes, caleb. extremely.”

🍎 typing your phone password when face id fails

he remembers it by heart. he’s memorized the code. doesn’t even ask. just picks up your phone and inputs it like it’s muscle memory. looks at you with a wink. “can’t help it. i’m a genius. and maybe a little obsessed.” little? naur!

🍎 picking off lashes/lens cases/doing gentle tasks

sometimes you just look at him with that “can you help meeee” look, and he sighs so dramatically. but you know he lives for it. he sits you down, cups your face gently, and helps remove the stubborn lash glue or pries open the contact case. all while muttering, “you’re lucky you’re cute. and helpless. and mine.”

🍎 wiping crumbs off your lips ’cause you can’t do it with nails

he sees it. smirks. wipes it off with his thumb and slowly licks it. “what?” he shrugs. “you got croissant on you. i’m just being resourceful.” you scoff at him, “tsk, caleb, i can wipe it off!” “i know honey- but you don’t need to!”

🍎 helping you text when you’re like “babe just type it for me”

he dictates your sass perfectly. “okay, you want the skull emoji or the 😭?” “both.” “got it. also i added ‘lol’ so it doesn’t sound like you’re trying to murder them.” “you get me.” “always do, pips!”

🍎 closing your bracelets or rings or doing your lip gloss

he’ll click your bracelet into place with precision, kiss your wrist after. if you’re struggling with lip gloss? he holds your chin and applies it for you. real serious. like he’s painting the mona lisa. “don’t move. gotta make my girl all kissable.” then smudges your lippie >:3

[divagrace]

It Reminded Me of You

SoftRafe x SweetPoguePrincess

Summary: Rafe has been seeing these silly stuffed animals everywhere online, so when he saw a girl on tik tok talking about the new ones releasing, he decided to get you one.

Warnings: none! 🫶🏻

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

‘These are just the cutest things ever’

‘Guys look what my boyfriend got me for my birthday!’

‘I’m not even kidding, I would go to war for this peanut’

‘Here are all the new furry friends that will be dropping next week.’

Rafe had no idea what the hell a Jellycat was until two weeks ago. He liked one video of some little kid getting one for Christmas and now they have bombarded his social media feed.

But when he saw a video showing all of the different ones that would be coming out next week, one caught his eye. He knew you would love it.

It was a bunny. From what he’s gathered that’s their most popular animal. But it wasn’t just any old bunny, it was a hot pink one.

Rafe just knew that you would die for it.

So obviously the day that the new stuffies were released, Rafe made it his mission to get it for you. He didn’t pay attention to the work he was supposed to be doing, instead, he sat behind his computer and waited for the time that was said.

Once he saw that they had dropped, he scrolled until he found the pink bunny and added it into his cart.

Then he sees a navy blue bunny and knows that you would die two times because they match. Right as he is about to check out, he sees those damn peanuts, just this time they are on key chains. He puts two of them in his cart.

Rafe places the order and he gets the notification that it will be here in about a week.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

When Rafe got the confirmation that the package was delivered, he knew that he had to intercept it before you got the chance to open it up.

Rafe knows how much you love to open up packages, you claim that it makes you feel like an influencer, whatever that means, so Rafe always lets you open the things that he orders in the mail.

Luckily, he is able to get ahold of one of the gardeners, and he asks them if they can grab the package and tuck it in a spot that you won’t see it for now.

Rafe can’t help but feel a small amount of excitement bubble up in his stomach at the thought of surprising you. He really hopes that you’ll love everything.

Rafe walks through the doors to the smell of something warm and sweet. He kicks off his shoes and sets his keys on the tray you crafted for him, and then follows the delicious smell to the kitchen .

And there you are, hunched over the counter with a look of concentration, frosting a delicious looking batch of vanilla cupcakes with pink frosting.

Rafe waits at least two minutes until you finally realize he’s standing there. But when you do notice, you jump back in surprise.

“Rafe oh my goodness! You scared me.” You tell him, eyes still wide from your shock. He chuckles at your reaction.

“Sorry baby. Didn’t want you to lose your focus.”

“It’s okay, I’m glad you’re home now. How was work?” You ask him as he comes to stand behind you. Wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder.

“It was good baby. ‘M got a surprise for you.” He mumbles into your neck. Pulling away from you, Rafe walks out of the kitchen of Tanny Hill and to one of the many empty bedrooms.

He found the box sitting at the top of the bare closet, and reached up to grab it. Rafe made his way back to you. Now you were carefully dusting a coating of sprinkles on the top of each cupcake, giving every single one your upmost attention.

Rafe waits patiently for you to finish, and when you finally turn your gaze to him, he holds out the box to you.

“What’s this?” You look at him confused.

“Just open the box baby. You’ll find out.” Rafe says, fighting a smile.

You take the box from him and set it on the table. You grab a pair of kitchen scissors from one of the drawers and starts to slice through the tape on the top of the package. You peel open the layers of the cardboard, and Rafe can finally catch a glimpse of that bright blue bag he’s been seeing on social media for weeks.

You let out a gasp. You turn your head to Rafe, eyes wide.

“Rafe did you seriously get me a Jellycat?” You ask in disbelief.

“Well keep opening it baby.” He says.

You grab the first bag out of the box and undo the drawstrings. You reach in and pull out the navy blue bunny. You let out a cute little whine. Rafe knows you already love it.

“It’s so cute Rafe!” You exclaim, showing him the bunny like he didn’t buy it himself.

“There’s more.” He says urging you to continue.

You reach in again and grab another bag, the same size as the first one. This time, it’s the pink bunny.

“Oh. My. Gosh. She is the cutest thing ever! I love her. Wait! Did you do this on purpose? You made the blue one you, and the pink one is me!” You start going crazy.

Rafe laughs.

“I did baby. Thought you would like it.” Rafe says.

“I love it!” You yell.

You see once again that there is another bag. So you take it out of the box and reach in to find two much smaller stuffies. You pull the two peanut keychains out of the bag.

“Rafe shut up. Shut up!” At this point you are bouncing off the walls.

“Is one for you to?” You ask him excitedly. Rafe only nods, but that’s enough to have you squealing and jumping into his arms.

He was ready, he caught you and rested his hands under your ass, while you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck.

“Thank you so much Rafey. These are the most adorable things ever!” You mumble into his neck.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

Later on, you make Rafe put his peanut onto his keys after you clipped yours onto your purse. He tried to argue saying that it was “too bulky”, but you told him he would get extra head scratches if he did.

So he did.

You set your two bunnies on his bed. You also made it so it looked like they are hugging each other. Rafe asked why and you told him, “It’s because they’re dating just like us. Duh.”

He just nodded his head and went along with it.

Now you guys are lying in bed, and he just discovered the massive Jellycats that cost the average persons rent.

Looks like yall are getting a giant version of your bunnies next week.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

AN: ugh I loved this one. I impulsively bought a Jellycat that is an egg with little bunny ears. But I want a bunny one sooooooo bad.

I also just love this reader and soft Rafe together.

Also we are almost at 200 followers which is crazy I love yall so so much!

🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

[heich0e]

rintarou plays with a bit of ribbon left strewn across the floor, twirling it around his long, lithe fingers idly. it's green and velvety, and slips easily between his digits as he winds it slowly between the valleys of his knuckles, humming a little tune to himself.

as you approach him in the living room by the christmas tree, he looks up at you with a soft, content smile on his face.

"here you go," you say, handing him the cup of coffee you've just prepared, steam curling from the surface. it's in a novelty mug he got you last christmas, shaped like a cute little character from a sci-fi franchise you've loved since you were a kid, and he takes it with an appreciative nod—careful not to spill a drop as the cup passes from your hand to his own.

you take a seat at his side with your own cup of coffee once he's taken his first sip.

"mmm," he hums once he's swallowed the mouthful. "it's good."

"i put some cinnamon in the french press," you tell him, leaning a bit against his arm, your cheek resting on his shoulder as the two of you sit tucked together on the living room floor beneath the tree.

"festive," rinatrou says with an approving nod, shifting so you press even closer to his side, his arm snaking back around your waist.

it's been a slow, easy morning in your nagano apartment. you insisted on opening gifts first thing, because that's what your family always did growing up, and even though rintarou wasn't much of a holiday person to begin with he indulged you without question. it wasn't a grand, elaborate ordeal, just a couple of gifts exchanged between the two of you; some new headphones for rin, some perfume for you, little bits of clothes for each of you here and there. your mother had sent each of you a new pair of mittens (though your card had included an unsubtle but endearing note about how it would be a shame to cover up the new ring you've recently started wearing on your left hand) and rin's sister sent you a popular local tea from the town where she's attending university.

"did you have a nice christmas?" you ask rintarou as he takes another sip of coffee. he hums in agreement, looking down at where you're tucked into his side.

"did you?"

you echo his earlier hum.

"we should clean up," you say, looking around the room at the torn gift wrap and boxes on the floor. "i need to clean up from making the coffee, too."

rintarou dips down and presses a kiss to the top of your head. "you do that, i'll take care of this stuff."

you nod, pulling yourself away from the warmth of his side, pushing yourself back up to your feet as rintarou crawls towards the mess at the bottom of the tree.

you're just about to cross the threshold to the kitchen when you hear him say.

"oh, there's another gift under here."

"what?" you ask, turning back to face him. heat suddenly floods your face when you see him kneeling underneath the tree with a familiar gift in his hands. it's not a very large gift—a slim little package only a bit bigger than the size of his hand—so while you're not surprised it went unnoticed at first, you're mortified when you realize what's about to happen.

"it's for me," he says in confusion after reading the tag, glancing over at you.

"um," you stumble a little over your feet as you try to cross the room towards him. "what if you wait to open that until late—!"

rintarou's finger is already under the edge of the wrapping paper, though he hasn't properly ripped into it yet. he's watching you curiously as you approach him, a glint of something in your eyes that's caused you far too many headaches in the four years the two of you have been dating.

"rin, stop," you say to him, and though you make every attempt to sound firm, the demand comes out more pleading than anything.

"what did you get for me?" he asks, a lilt of mischief in his tone as he peels up the corner of the wrapping paper ever so slightly.

"it's nothing important," you insist, falling to your knees beside him and trying to cover up the present with your hands. "you can have it later."

"but it's christmas now," he counters, slipping the gift out from your hands and holding it away from you. "plus all the other presents are opened, it'll be lonely under the tree all by itself."

"rintarou," you groan, tipping yourself face first into his chest to hide your shame. the telltale sound of wrapping paper tearing tells you that as much as he might love to indulge you, he delights in tormenting you even more.

"what is this?"

you refuse to pull yourself away from his chest.

its quiet for a moment. you hear some shuffling, and you can clearly picture rintarou turning the little package over in his hands as he scrutinizes it.

"was this supposed to be for me?" he asks after a moment, clearly confused.

you don't say anything.

you don't even move.

"did you fall asleep?" rintarou teases you, rubbing at your back as you keep your face hidden against his chest.

"no, i died," you answer, but the words are muffled by the material of his hoodie.

"oh no, not on christmas. how tragic," he drawls jokingly, but you don't laugh.

"...baby..."

"...babe."

"why did you buy me a present i don't understand just to get mad at me about it?" he mutters when you don't respond to any of his beckoning.

finally you separate yourself from his sweatshirt to peer up at him resentfully.

"it is for you," you mumble under your breath, answering his earlier question. you snatch the package out from his hands, tucking it against your chest with your arms crossed over top of it. "but i'm the one who's supposed to wear them."

you watch the realization dawn on rintarou's face. if you weren't so hideously embarrassed, you might even find it in yourself to laugh at the almost cartoonish expression of enlightenment.

"oh," he breathes. "oh."

suddenly he's in your face, dipping down to meet you at eye level, his nose brushing yours.

"you got those just for me?" he asks, and you can almost taste the cinnamon on his lips.

"yeah," you answer quietly, and he kisses you to muffle the little groan the slips out of his lips at your answer.

with one hand cradling the back of your head, rintarou lowers you back onto the ground, slotting himself between your thighs as they part to welcome him. his tongue slips between your lips to meet your own, the warmth his hands gliding up over your hips towards your chest.

you don't resist as he slips the little box out from your grasp.

rintarou pulls away, and you look up at him from your position on the floor as your chest heaves. the look in his eyes as he appraises the gift lacks any of the confusion it had a moment prior, replaced now with a heady, palpable lust.

he turns the box around towards you, and you have no choice but to look at the silky sheer tights in their luxurious packaging.

"this is a very thoughtful gift," he says to you quietly, his voice low and a little strained. the bulge in his gray sweatpants, which has only gotten larger since his moment of realization, does not go unnoticed by you.

"it's easy to buy gifts for a pervert," you mumble, hiding your face under your hand.

slowly rintarou lifts your hand from your face, and you watch under heavy lidded eyes as he lifts it to his mouth, kissing your knuckles tenderly—right over the ring he put there a few days prior.

"are you gonna put them on for me?" rintarou speaks into your skin, his lashes fluttering in a way that might seem sweet if the circumstances were different. you take the package from him, slipping your fingertip under the lip of the packaging to pry it open.

you glance up at him again.

rintarou laughs breathily as he meets your gaze, and you catch a glint of teeth biting down into the plush of his lip like he's trying to restrain himself.

there's a sudden thickness in your throat. a knot in your stomach. anticipation thrums just underneath your skin, prickling up to the surface with every gentle touch of his hands.

you tilt the opened package back towards him.

"don't you wanna put them on me yourself?"

he'll be the one tearing them off you in a few minutes anyway, so he may as well enjoy them while they last.

[pakingduck]

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[azzibuckets]

anything you want [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: fluffy blurb based off this moment last year when paige dressed azzi in her entire outfit at the sza concert then lent her her jacket

a/n: dedicated to @clairosrealwife for messaging me on 4 different places asking for a new fic like the overbearing annoying ass she is

word count: 1.1k

masterlist

“Yikes.”

Paige, Jana, and Aaliyah peered through the doorway of Azzi’s room, all exchanging glances at the sight before them. Azzi was slumped on the floor, face down in a pile of clothes while shirts and sweaters were strewn all over her bed, furniture, and closet.

They’d been eating snacks in the kitchen before muffed groans had pierced the peaceful silence of the dorm. Azzi had been in a mood all day, and no one on the team dared to bother her when she was pissed off. But it was becoming hard to enjoy their Lays when Azzi was huffing and storming around in the other room, so they made a mutual agreement to approach the girl together by having strength in numbers.

“Azzarae,” Aaliyah said gently, always having a soft spot for her younger roommate. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find anything cute to wear for the concert,” Azzi groaned. “This is literally the worst day of my life. I failed my exam in accounting this morning and then I got a smoothie to console myself but then I fucking spilled the entire thing-,”

Paige glared at her teammates as they slowly started to creep away from the door. “Your girlfriend, your problem,” Aaliyah mouthed before she and Jana took off, giggling as they returned back to their snacks.

Fatties, Paige thought bitterly to herself before entering the room and shutting the door. “You know the entire team is scared of you whenever you’re mad?”

A small smirk slid its way onto Azzi’s face. “I know. They leave me alone for once. I get peace and quiet.”

Paige rolled her eyes fondly. She grabbed Azzi’s hand and folded it between hers, rubbing soothing circles across Azzi’s palm with her thumbs. “I got some new shit in the mail a few days ago. Come over and try them on?”

Azzi nodded gratefully. On their way out, Aaliyah and Jana were still laughing like hyenas, fingers flying across their screens as they texted the group chat about how they’d left Paige to her own devices. But as soon as Azzi sent them a withering stare, they both immediately shut up. “You’re such a pussy,” Jana whispered to Aaliyah. “You’re literally older than her.” Without looking up from her phone, Aaliyah jabbed Jana in the stomach.

Azzi made herself comfortable on Paige’s bed as the older girl started rummaging through some boxes in her closet. “Here.” Paige tossed a pile of plastic wrapped packages at Azzi.

Azzi’s hands hovered over the clothes. “You sure? You haven’t even gotten the chance to wear them yourself yet.”

Paige leaned down and pressed a kiss to Azzi’s neck, letting her lips linger on the sensitive pulse point that she knew made Azzi shudder. “Stop being so unselfish all the time,” she murmured, “or I’m gonna start making out with you and we’ll never make it to the concert.”

A rosy blush fell over Azzi’s cheeks. “That doesn’t sound half bad,” she admitted, tucking an unruly strand of blonde hair behind her girlfriend’s ear.

Paige playfully bit down on Azzi’s shoulder, earning a squeal from the dark haired girl. Smirking, she drew back and punched Azzi’s shoulder. “Try the clothes on, dumbass.”

“A full Supreme outfit outfit? Really?” Azzi wrinkled her nose in the mirror as she experimented with her shirt, tucking it in and scrunching up one side to see what would look best.

“It’s gonna be cold.” Paige tossed her a puffer vest. “This would go nice with the sweats.”

Azzi shrugged on the puffer vest. Tilting her head thoughtfully in the mirror, she rolled her shirt up to above her belly button, making it look like a cropped top. “Much better.”

“You tryna make people faint?” Paige complained, eyes glued to the shiny piercing on Azzi’s stomach.

Azzi grinned, hand gesturing across her body. “You like it?”

“You know I think you look good in everything.” Paige approached Azzi from behind, hands sneakily sliding under the vest to make contact with Azzi’s bare abdomen. Paige savored the way Azzi’s muscles contracted at her touch. “But you look better in this than I would, trust.” She nestled her chin on Azzi’s shoulder, her gaze meeting brown doe eyes in the mirror. “You look so pretty, baby.”

Azzi turned and planted a kiss on Paige’s cheek. “Wanna match? You can wear your other Supreme shirt?” She smiled at Paige, that goddamn smile reserved solely for the person she loved most in the world, and Paige had seen that smile and that dimple almost every day for six years now, but she swore her knees still went weak at the sight.

Paige’s thumb brushed the expanse of Azzi’s skin, dipping just below the waistline of her pants in a slow circle. “Anything you want.”

*********

“You know I can walk just fine by myself?”

Paige’s hands ghosted Azzi’s waist for the hundredth time that night. “I know.”

Thankful that Paige was behind her and couldn’t see her face, Azzi smiled. She would never admit it, but she loved whenever Paige got unnecessarily protective whenever they were in public, guiding her through crowds with a hand firmly planted on the small of her back. Their relationship was private to the point where they could never kiss or show affection in front of other people, but this was one subtle way Paige reminded Azzi of how much she loved her, and Azzi appreciated it.

“You’re shivering.” Azzi hadn’t even noticed how cold she was until Paige pointed it out, but suddenly she could feel the late night chill in her bones despite the body heat radiating from the crowd pressed against them.

“I’m fine,” Azzi brushed her off. “I’ll go buy a hot chocolate or something later.”

“You’re gonna get sick,” Paige murmured, hand reaching out to steady Azzi as she zipped up her girlfriend’s puffer.

“Can you guys stop being cute for once?” Aubrey grumbled from behind them.

Both of them ignored her.

When she noticed how Azzi was still trying to rub her hands together for warmth, Paige immediately took off her jacket and pushed it into Azzi’s hands.

“No,” Azzi insisted, trying to give the jacket back. “You’re literally in only a shirt Paige.”

“Well, I’m not cold at all,” Paige said stubbornly, refusing to accept the jacket. “Are you forgetting I grew up in Minnesota?”

“I’m not cold anymore,” Azzi lied.

Paige cocked an eyebrow. “So your lips aren’t trembling?”

Sighing in defeat, Azzi hesitated before slipping on the black coat over her puffer. Paige smirked, adjusting the collar so that it sat comfortably on Azzi’s shoulders. “Better?” she asked softly.

Azzi nodded, glancing around before bringing Paige’s hand to her mouth and pressing a fleeting kiss to her knuckles. “If you start getting cold I’m taking this jacket off,” she warned.

“I’m actually pretty warm,” Paige said breezily. “But I wouldn’t mind some extra body heat, if you know what I mean,” she said with an exaggerated wink.

Azzi rolled her eyes, biting back a smile as she huddled closer to her girlfriend, pressing her entire body against the blonde’s. Her fingers fumbled around before finding Paige’s hand and tangling them together.

“See? Perfect.”

[grayandthyme]

once again u DELIVERED 💐💐💐 <— for u

ive been thinking … im not sure if you like or do no outbreak au, but if u do !!!! going over to Joel’s house with Tommy during the summer and having a cookout

like ugh need this man to come jump in the pool with me!!! i can see him falling asleep in a floaty but he’d totally pretend that he didn’t 😎

ILY SM thank u for everything

- 🦆

authors note: sorry it's so so short.. i'm trying to get out of my writers block.. also not a cookout.. but banter n spice ty ducky ily mwah mwah

warnings: unestablished age. no use of y/n. unestablished relationship w tommy. f!reader presumable.

Sarah Miller was turning ten. You realize what that means, right?

This wasn’t just a birthday—it was the birthday. Double digits.

A rite of passage.

And if Joel’s barrage of texts, calls, and increasingly frantic emojis hadn’t made it clear, your presence wasn’t optional.

They needed backup. Someone reliable. Someone brave.

Someone who could survive a day in the trenches—with the sugar-hyped horde.

You came prepared, though. Sundress swaying in the June breeze, a bathing suit tucked beneath, and your canvas tote armed with snacks, sunscreen, and glitter-bandages.

In your arms, two gift-wrapped behemoths—shimmering in blue and purple sparkles—threatened to tip your balance as you navigated the front walk.

You reached the door, already propped open, save for the stubborn storm-door resisting your elbow-nudge and pinky-finger dance.

"Hands a lil' full?"

Tommy lounged against the garage like he had all the time in the world, watching you struggle with the door. His grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, easy and amused, the kind that always sent a quiet heat curling low in your stomach.

You gave up the door fight with a huff, your last bit of pinky dancing resistance folding like sopping wet paper.

“Do you get off to my suffering, or is this just an especially thrilling day for you?” you exhaled, shifting the gifts in your arms, trying not to drop the top-heavy one that kept threatening to nosedive into the concrete steps.

Tommy’s grin widened, toothpick tipping upward as he stepped forward—finally—pushing the storm door open with one hand like it weighed nothing.

“Nah,” he said, holding the door and watching you pass, “Just enjoyin' the view. But if you did need help twenty seconds ago, feel free to beg.”

You breezed past him with all the grace. All of the grace of someone ready to make this the best tenth birthday party imaginable. Inside, the house was already vibrating with the sounds of children—laughter, running feet, a shriek that sounded too dramatic to be joyful but not quite worried enough to interrupt your stride.

“You’re lucky it’s Sarah’s birthday,” you muttered, setting the boxes down on the kitchen island, “or I’d’ve left you outside to flirt with your reflection in the car window.”

Behind you, the storm door clicked shut, and Tommy’s voice followed close behind, all smirk and sunshine. What an ass.

“You think I don’t already?”

You turned just enough to give him the look—the one that needed no words, no translation. A look honed over years, sharp as a warning flare.

It said, Take this fucking present before I abandon it on the tile like a forgotten Amazon package.

He met it with a flicker of amusement, tongue running slow along the back of his teeth. The toothpick jerked upward with the motion, a gesture halfway between a grin and a challenge.

Then—at last—he moved. Reached out, and lifted the boxes from your arms like he hadn’t just watched you struggle like a packed horse in strappy sandals.

“What a gentleman,” you deadpanned, rolling your shoulder now that it was no longer bearing the weight of Barbies wrapped in glitter paper.

You followed, unhurried, a crooked smile tugging at your lips. “Aw, does that mean you’ll fuck right off for my birthday?” you asked, sweet as syrup and twice as sticky.

The tone was familiar—half tease, half challenge.

This was the game, the language you both spoke fluently: flirty jabs wrapped in barbed ribbon, a constant tug-of-war to see who could get under the other’s skin first.

Tommy didn’t turn around, but his voice came back clear, pitched just loud enough over the shrieks of a water balloon fight in progress.

“Depends—when is it again? So I can schedule my sudden disappearance. Preferably overseas. No cell signal.”

You let his remark pass with little to no acknowledgment, gaze drifting toward the deck—already a scene of chaos.

The aftermath was unmistakable. Water everywhere.

So much splashing.

Your fingers found the handle with practiced ease, a gentle grip. The storm door opened with a smooth pull, creaking slightly in the stillness. You stepped out onto the deck, hands resting lightly on your hips, eyes sweeping the mess before you.

Assessing.

“God,” you muttered, scanning the scene. “It’s a war zone.”

“Yeah,” Tommy exhaled beside you, folding his arms across his chest.

The motion was casual, effortless—but it did things.

The subtle tension in his forearms, the way his fingers flexed and shifted like he was ready to react, or maybe just wind you up.

It was hot. Unreasonably hot.

Probably the weather, though. Probably.

Right?

You cleared your throat, adjusting your tote bag like it was suddenly too heavy. “So… what’s the plan? Sacrifice one of them to distract the others, then make a break for it?”

Tommy’s mouth twitched. “I was thinking more along the lines of arming ourselves. Equal footing. But I like your bloodlust.”

“I’ve always been a tactician.”

He nodded, surveying the battlefield.

“Smart. And when the cake hits the table, that’s when it gets serious.”

As if on cue, one of the smaller kids shrieked and launched a foam missile directly at your ankle. You dodged, but just barely.

“Okay,” you said, pointing at Tommy. “I’m gonna need you to take a hit for me at some point. You’ve got main-character energy—they’ll go for you first.”

He grinned, already pulling a Nerf blaster from behind his back like it was a sacred relic.

Was that in his waistband the entire time?

“Deal. But if I go down, I expect a heartfelt eulogy. Minimum three tears.”

You grabbed a neon green water pistol from the toy bin and cocked it like a pro. “Only if you die heroically. If you trip and fall in the sprinkler, I’m laughing.”

He raised the blaster and pointed it at you, mock-serious.

“We go to war.”

“War,” you confirmed, tapping your pistol against his.

Birthday party warriors, armed to the teeth with Nerf water blasters, and pride too big for being as old as you were.

Though...

The party wasn’t all chaos and noise—it had its quiet beauty, too.

Sweet, thoughtful touches woven into the frenzy, proof of just how much love, and how much effort—Tommy and Joel, especially, had poured into the day.

White and lavender balloons floated lazily above the yard, clipped to trees and beams. Some dusted with glitter, others speckled with aluminum polka-dots.

Paper stars swung from the porch beams, catching the breeze—the string capturing a reminder of Joel’s scavenger hunt through four different Party City stores, which you’d heard about in hilarious detail.

The cake was a dream—vanilla layered with crisp wafers and a buttercream so decadent you’d swear Tommy cross-county drove it from a bakery halfway to Dallas.

All her friends were there.

And Sarah? Radiant. Giggling, twirling in her sundress, dancing with bare feet on wet grass. When she blew out the candles, the moment held for just a second too long—and you could have sworn Joel blinked back a tear.

But your eyes?

They’d drifted to Tommy.

He wasn’t looking at anyone but her. And the smile he wore—it wasn’t one you’d seen before. It was soft, unguarded. A rare thing, reserved only for his niece.

His Brothers happiness personified. His daughter in another life.

By the time the sun began to drop behind the fence line and the sky turned that drippy pink, it was nearly seven-thirty. The last of the girls had gone home. All that was left was the remnants of the party simmering behind in lost swim goggles and forgotten goodie bags.

From the kitchen window, you could see Sarah and Joel at the counter—her voice bouncing with excitement, probably mid-monologue about the new CD she’d unwrapped or the tiny Barbie accessories you’d chosen with precision.

Sat too damn long in that Toys'R'us.

You were barefoot now, dress peeled off and slung somewhere inside. The Texas heat still clung to everything, heavy and slow. Your swimsuit stuck to your skin as you bent to scoop up pool noodles from the grass.

Behind you, the door creaked open.

“Okay,” you murmured, not to anyone in particular—maybe just to the door itself. “Maybe today wasn’t so bad.”

“I think you might be a little old to enjoy a ten-year-old’s birthday party,” Tommy said, exhaling a quiet huff of laughter as he leaned against the railing. He watched you from the porch, arms resting loosely, the last traces of sunlight painting shadows across his skin.

His shirt still hung open, half-forgotten, fully unbuttoned.

You were out there, barefoot in the grass, collecting waterlogged floaties in the dark. It was ridiculous, and somehow—unfairly—endearing.

Admirable, even.

How completely, effortlessly cute you managed to be, even like this.

He stepped to the side, once, then twice—flicked a small switch near the post, and with a quiet hum, the backyard bloomed into soft light.

Fairy lights strung overhead blinked to life, casting a golden wash across the patio and the ripple of the pool.

You looked up, strands of hair stuck to your cheek, fingers pushing them back with a tired sort of grace.

“Oh,” you exhaled, the smallest smile breaking through the haze of heat and sweat. “Nice touch.”

Tommy grinned, slow and satisfied, turning back toward the railing. “Let there be light, huh?”

The soft glow of the fairy lights hung suspended between you like something delicate—but felt.

It lingered in that narrow space neither of you had quite dared to cross all afternoon.

Your bare feet whispered across the damp grass, soft pit-pats against the earth as you made your slow rounds along the pool’s edge. The last of the floaties drifted near the deep end—one stubborn noodle, lazily bobbing just out of reach like it knew you were tired.

You sighed dramatically.

Enough was enough. The day had been long, the heat relentless, and now this neon foam menace was the final insult.

Planting one foot on the ledge, you leaned out, stretching toward the floatie with a strained grunt, fingers wiggling in the thick, humid air. So close. Almost—

“You look like you’re one bad decision away from a water rescue,” Tommy called behind you, voice amused and far too pleased with itself.

You didn’t even turn around.

“If you’re not gonna help, at least don’t narrate.”

A beat of silence.

“Yeah?"

And suddenly, hands—steady and smug—pressed lightly against your back.

You had just enough time to gasp.

The world became water.

You came up sputtering, hair plastered to your cheeks, water dripping down your lashes as you whipped around mid-pool.

“Are you serious?!”

Tommy stood at the edge, arms crossed, smirking like a man who had never known fear. “You looked hot. I figured I’d help.”

“Oh, you helped all right,” you said, treading water, narrowing your eyes like a predator.

He chuckled, crouching down with a mock-offer of sympathy.

“Come on, I’ll help you out. Hand?”

You swam toward him, grumbling something indecipherable—but your fingers curled around his just the same. His grip tightened, already bracing to pull you up.

Then you yanked.

And with a satisfying yelp of surprise, Tommy went down like a stone—shirt, smugness, and all—right into the water beside you.

He surfaced a second later, spitting out chlorinated water drops.

“You fuckin' yanked me!”

You shrugged, smiling sweetly, treading just far enough away. “You looked hot. I figured I’d help.”

He blinked at you for a moment, then laughed—deep and real—and pushed his hair back from his forehead.

“Oh, did I?” he said, eyes locked on yours, voice low and amused, "Yeah?"

He hummed low in his throat, a playful warning, as he began wading through the water—steady and unhurried, like a predator who already knew the chase was pointless.

With his height, the water barely reached the middle of his chest, droplets glinting across his collarbones as he moved.

You let out a laugh—half-giggle, half-gasp—and twisted away, kicking into a frantic swim. Not graceful, not coordinated—just pure, desperate doggy paddle, arms slicing water in wide arcs, trying to keep distance between your body and the inevitability behind you.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” you shouted over your shoulder, already knowing it was useless.

He surged forward, sending ripples across the pool, cutting through them with ease. You felt it—the shift in the current, the moment before—

Splash.

His palm landed with a gentle thump on the crown of your head, and down you went with a yelp, water closing over your ears in a rush of soundless blue.

You popped back up, coughing, flinging your hair out of your eyes with dramatic flair. “Oh, you’re dead,” you gasped, launching a wave of retaliation.

A war broke out—slapping splashes, arms thrashing through the shallow light, laughter echoing off the patio tiles.

You clawed through the water like a gremlin, trying to pull his arm down; he countered with a full-body wave, sending you stumbling back into the deeper end.

You squealed. He grinned. It was mayhem.

Then—his final move.

He moved fast—too fast—his hand pressing down again, dragging you beneath the surface.

Your shoulders sank, hair swirling like silk strings in your vision.

Then, just as quickly, you broke through the water’s edge, gasping, water spilling from your lips as your eyes blinked to clear the haze.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and warm as he stepped closer, the splash of his movement echoing faintly in the cool night air.

His hands rose, gentle but certain, framing your face with careful tenderness.

His thumbs brushed lightly over your eyelids, wiping away the remnants of mascara and stray droplets clinging to your skin.

His touch was soft, deliberate—the pads of his thumbs moving to rest into the apples of your cheeks, holding you steady.

The air between you thickened, charged with something unspoken but undeniable.

Heat pooled low in your belly, spreading through your chest and settling behind your eyes.

The world narrowed, the fairy lights flickering like stars caught just for you two.

His breath hitched slightly, mingling with yours, and the distance between your lips shrank, breath mingling in the space where everything changed.

"Tommy—" You could only exhale before he tilted.

And you met him halfway.

His mouth met yours.

It began soft—tentative—like a question into the hush between heartbeats.

Your fingers found his damp hair, tangling there, grounding you as the kiss deepened—unhurried, each brush of lips carrying the weight of something that hadn't been foretold.

The night held its breath. The pool lapped quietly at your bodies, a gentle rhythm beneath the tension, as heat sparked and settled into something both wild and unbearably tender.

"Tommy." You said his name again, barely more than a breath, needing him to hear it.

To see you.

Your palm pressed flat against his chest, fingers curling against the soaked red fabric like a plea.

He exhaled—sharp and loud—as if he’d been holding the moment back, afraid to let it break.

“Stop talking.” The words slipped from him like instinct. Then one step, and he had you pinned to the cool wall of the pool, his hands cradling your face with a reverence that contradicted the urgency in his touch.

He pulled back, just for a moment, his gaze flickering toward the back porch—searching.

For Sarah. For Joel.

But the kitchen light was already dark, the house hushed.

Then he looked back at you.

His pointer finger curled inward, knuckle grazing a slow path down your throat, stopping where your collarbones met like an unspoken pause.

“Try to keep it down,” he murmured, his voice low—threaded with dark amusement. His hand slipped beneath the water, slow at first, but purposeful—tracing heat through the quiet current.

Then came the snap of fabric, deft and sudden.

His fingers slipped beneath your swim bottoms, knuckles brushing skin, deliberate—each movement a slow invasion, a quiet claiming. Just a curl, a touch—and then he was guiding you forward, folding you gently into the water.

“Wouldn’t want you to ruin a birthday party… now, would we?” he said, almost laughing, the words soaked a semblance of control.

tommy taglist: @xodilfluvr @angeleen777 @starwars8979 @chateaujoon @noorvell @theretrofuturista

← masterlist

[datingliterallyeverything]

Hi!! Can I please request some beau x fem reader headcanons? sfw or nsfw lol, I don't mind

-🌳

I'll do you one better 🌳 anon, I'll give you sfw AND nsfw headcanons. I love that cardboard box sm.

Beau x fem! reader hcs! Warnings: 18+ content under the cut!

SFW

The fact that she made her own outfit is cool on its own, cooler still is that she teaches you how to make your own clothing items out of cardboard! Goodness knows you order enough things online to have enough material for it.

Cardboard, as you can imagine, is not a very safe material to tinker with. When trying to fashion a dress out of an amazon package, you got a terrible cardboard cut. From personal experience, that shit is not fun. At all. Poor Beau started freaking the hell out! 

Poor girl doesn’t know that much about human anatomy. She knows the basics from her adventures around the house, talking to interesting objects and researching interesting topics, but she’s, frankly, a cardboard box. Which actually causes her to spiral a bit. If she’s the literal manifestation of a cardboard box, and a cardboard box cut you…then she cut you?? Poor woman freaks out.

It takes days for her to not tear up when looking at the cut. She insists that because this was her fault (she still thinks it is, despite your countless assurances that it’s not at all her fault), she must make sure your bandage is clean and the wound disinfected.

Surprisingly, she has an immaculate hair care routine. Those curls are gorgeous. She also really enjoys bubble baths. This combination gave her the idea that at least once a week, she would love a little spa day with you. You introduce her to Bathsheba because of this, who actually manages to teach both of you more about hair care and relaxation. 

Bathsheba loves to gossip, Beau loves to adventure. The two get along surprisingly well, mostly because Bathsheba is able to act somewhat like an informant. You find this very funny. A cardboard box and a bath getting along, the thought makes you laugh hysterically sometimes, much to their chagrin. They don’t know that you’re literally thinking of an actual cardboard box floating in the bath when you laugh, but they really don’t need to know that.

Loves to cuddle while you read to her. Adventure books, obviously, are her favorite. But she likes travel books as well. As a houseologist, the house is her main focus of study. The outside world intrigues her though. She likes to imagine all of the adventures she could have out there with you. 

When it comes to cuddling, she likes laying on top of you. Fully enveloping you. She’ll leave your hands free so you can pet her head and rub her back. She likes to talk about her adventures for the day like this as you love on her. She also likes this position in reverse. Please lay on top of her like a blanket. If it takes some convincing, she’ll literally beg on her knees. When you finally do it, she's all smiles. 

“There’s my pretty girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Beau has a very inquisitive mind. She loves to learn things. Even better than learning things is learning things with you. It seems like every day she has a new hobby or craft she wants you guys to try out. Her favorite so far is crochet because she managed to make a crochet doll of you and her. 

Movie nights are the best with her. Lights off, under the blankets, and tons of snacks. You take turns choosing movies. Every movie night ends in one of three ways. 

  Both of you end up asleep, completely wiped out. She usually wakes up when something startles her, and carries you off to bed. She likes tucking you in, kissing you sweetly good night.

  Popcorn fights. They are chaotic and she will never let you win on purpose. Ever. She’s in in to win it.

  A delightfully in depth discussion about the film you just watched. Beau has a lot to say, and she’s never been afraid to say it. Because of her enthusiasm and recklessness, a lot of the other objects have wrongly assumed that she isn’t very bright. One long conversation with her will prove them wrong in an instant though. She is incredibly intelligent and she loves when you acknowledge that. (Please praise her. She will melt.)

“You won’t believe how happy I am that you love me so much! That you…you listen to me!”

NSFW

So goofy it’s sexy kinda vibes. Sex with her is usually kept light hearted and loving. She loves the shit out of you, and you can tell by the way she fucks you. Or, of course, the way she begs to be fucked by you.

I feel like she’s somewhat experienced. She’s definitely not a virgin, but not wildly experienced either. Any noticeable lack of experience is made up for in pure enthusiasm. 

She keeps manuals of many of her adventures and what she’s learned from them. You know this, she’s let you read some of them. Yeah…she has one of her journals filled with sexual fantasies. And little doodles of you and her together, which are adorable. Along with the little doodles, however, are surprisingly anatomically correct naked drawings of you. That’s how you learn Beau is a pretty good artist. She just says she looks at you a lot, so it’s only natural she knows how to draw you from memory.

Sit in her lap, I dare you. Grind on her thigh. It’s so hot to her, watching you get off on her thigh. She loves everything about it, the way your tits bounce, how you’re looking at her, how you’re moaning out for her. It gets her going so bad. She starts out shy, as soon as you whimper her name though, she locks in. Grips your hips and guides you along her thigh until you get off, sometimes giving you a good spank when you start to slow down.

Praise kink! Praise kink! Praise kink! She loves praise! Giving you praise? Hot af. When you praise her? She’s cumming in seconds. 

Another way to get her going is a good makeout session. She’s pretty good with her tongue, and she loves to show off her skills to you. Speaking of her tongue, she’s good at using it another way. Eating. You. Out. She’s not a natural talent at it, but she’s a quick learner, very observant. Very communicative too. She definitely asks for feedback after sex. Is that just a way to fish for praise sometimes? Yes.

I personally see her as a switch. She doesn’t have a lean. Not in general, at least. It depends on the day. Though honestly, a big thing for her is mutual pleasure, so going from dominant to submissive in a single session isn’t all that strange.

When she doms, I see her as a pleasure dom. She needs you to feel good with her, she loves seeing you blissed out. You look beautiful in many ways, she has a list of her top 10 favorite expressions of yours. One of them is your face when you’re cumming. Beau won’t let you hide from her. Even if your face is buried in pillows, she’ll need to get a good look at your face.

When she subs, she’s a fucking hypocrite. She won’t let you hide your face, so why is she?! She sure as hell wouldn’t ever let you cover up your moans, so why is her hand pressed against her face! Hell nah! Get some handcuffs on her, that’ll do the trick. The first time you pulled those out: suprised pikachu face* She’s so pretty when she’s falling apart, it’s so worth it.

Going back to the goofy sex, if either of you were to ever wear a strap on, it would take her at least 10 minutes to stop laughing. If she’s wearing it, she’s helicoptering it for you, laughing hysterically. If you’re wearing it, she’ll laugh as well. You have a bit more control over the situation there though. Aka, if you wanna shut her up, make her suck on it <3

Extension cord used to tie you up!!!! That is all.

“You know…I can show you a more adventurous way I would like to use this extension cord. Oh-! Gosh, yeah, I know that was really bad. I was trying to be sexy!

Thank you so much for reading!!