If reqs are still open could I get the basketball club boys with reader who likes to fall asleep/lay on their chest? Totally fine if not, thanks!
Ace, Jamil and Floyd with a s/o who likes to fall asleep on their chest
Ace x reader, Jamil x reader, Floyd x reader
Ace’s a stuttering mess.
A blush coating his cheeks, scarlet blooming on his skin. Vibrant flowers that spread to both his ears in turn. His mouth falls open, lips fumbling around desperately. Trying to form words, but the letters all fall off the tip of his tongue, emotions running free.
How could he even speak? There were no words in language to describe the pure bliss flowing through his veins. You, leaning against his chest. Hand clutching at his uniform loosely, mouth just ever so slightly open…
He’ll be stock still for a few moments, before a trembling hand reaches for your sleeping form. Gingerly wrapping his arm around you, a casual embrace. One he’ll explain off with a shrug and a laugh if anyone asked.
“They just took a nap right here. Crazy, right?”
Boyish bluster, typical of Ace. Yet no amount of his excuse could explain away the sappy smile playing on his lips whenever Ace looked at you.
If you wake up, the first thing you’ll see is Ace’s smirk, dripping with smugness. Arms tugging you back to his embrace, laughing all the way. He’ll ask if you had sweet dreams, jabbing your cheek playfully. Well, with the way you were drooling all over his chest, you had a great nap.
Isn’t Ace just the best pillow?
Feel free to come to him anytime, yeah?
Jamil sighs.
Honestly, couldn’t you find a better place to take a nap? He’ll chide you under his breath, words as soft as spring’s gentle breeze. Shaking his head, tutting his disapproval.
Of course, his arms are snaking around your torso, bringing you closer to him. For all his exasperation, Jamil just can’t find it in his heart to wake you. Not when you’re lying right in his chest, every breath coming out in little puffs. They waft against his skin, warmth lingering like feather light kisses.
Gently, he’ll lift you up. Placing you on his lap, head resting against his collarbone. Jamil’s hands rest on your back, palms flat against your skin. Moving in ceaseless circles, rubbing your back for the sake of having something to do.
He isn’t too used to staying idle for long.
Although he has to admit, a break like this isn’t too bad once in awhile. Especially if you’re here, all curled up against his. It isn’t too bad, feeling your warmth melt against his, heartbeats slowing until they beat in sync. Beat as one.
Even if you wake up, Jamil just might feign sleep. Head leaning into the crook of your shoulders, arms reluctant to let go of your torso. A faint pink tinging his cheeks, a soft little whisper slipping out of his lips.
A little longer, please, love.
Floyd has to stop himself from laughing.
You’re rather brave, aren’t you? Letting your guard down right in front of him like that. Dropping onto his chest, dozing away. Cheek pressing into his chest, soft like dough. Your eyelids squeezed shut, every breath wafting against Floyd’s skin. Like the gentle caress of the sea, lapping against the shore.
Aren’t you just the cutest little thing, shrimpy?
Floyd immediately wraps you in his arms, yanking you closer to him. Plopping you right on his lap, cradling you in his embrace. Maybe he’ll sneak in a squeeze or two, giving you a tight little hug. Anything to feel you closer to his body. To feel your warmth bleed into his skin. Almost the heat of a roaring fireplace, illuminating the depths of his heart.
He leans over you, engulfing you in his lanky frame. Wrapping around you protectively, a passionate embrace. He never takes his eyes off your sleeping form, finger poking at your nose teasingly. The way you scrunch it up is so fun to watch.
Floyd pokes and prods, chuckling at your unconscious reactions. Of course, he’ll never wake you. Not intentionally, anyways.
How could you blame him?
You look adorable in his arms.
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How the Feisty Five doing in the au? Or it is now Feisty Six with Clover?
The Feisty Five are still rooting and tooting in the Wild East! Here's some character notes ✍️
Clover is the unofficial sixth member of the Feisty Five. They're still called the deputy of the Wild East even if they can't always help out with the tourist attractions.
Their group dynamic is a lot more healthy and respectable since Starlo apologized. Really, the only thing they argue over is the name of their posse. No decision to change it has been made yet.
Ed is also Starlo's "deputy" and right hand man for any Wild East issues, since he doesn't have to live in hiding LOL.
The Feisty Five run the Wild East tourist attractions a bit more seriously now, and it's developed into an even bigger town. Starlo has to make money to raise his human kid now after all.
Ed lost his eye protecting Starlo during a mission gone awry. Starlo still feels incredibly guilty over it, but Ed doesn't dwell on it much or blame him for it.
All of them have hobbies or jobs outside of simply running the town with Starlo! Ace also runs a small casino in the Wild East, Moray has taken up tailoring and making outfits, Ed and Mooch teach self defence and other cowboy tips and tricks for visitors (really, Ed is there to stop Mooch from pick pocketing attendees)
Bonus original concept artwork trying to figure out their design!
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Stupid things that the Basketball club members do to show affection to you
Ace x reader, Jamil x reader, Floyd x reader
Ace calls out your name, whenever he’s about to shoot. A horrible habit that immediately draws all the defenders towards him… but hey, the sense of satisfaction he gets from slip sliding away from them and scoring a goal anyways is always worth it.
The feeling of your gaze on him as he darts into scoring range does make his pulse race. To think out of all of the players on the court, you were only looking at him. In this one moment, it’s almost as if as you two were the only ones there.
He makes sure that he catches your gaze as the ball slowly sinks into the basket, with the swish of a clean shot into the net.
There’s that smug sort of pride Ace gets whenever he looks at the aghast faces of the opposite team. As well as that tiny little tinge in his heart when he looks up at you, a crooked, boyish smile dancing across his lips.
Ya saw that, right? Wasn’t he so cool?
You know he’s going to pester you about his shot non-stop when he gets off the court. Regaling you with tale after tale of his heroic exploits until you jab him with your elbow. Well, if he wins this match, you’ll consider buttering up his ego a bit.
Besides, it’s not as if he has to tell you everything. You were there, in the stands. Cheering for him… and the rest of the team, of course.
Mostly for him.
He also has another horrible habit. Ace kisses his knuckles before lightly punching in your direction. He does this before every match, from the moment he steps onto the court. Ace’s version of a flying kiss, his own personal lucky charm.
If he’s ever questioned about it, Ace laughs it off. Claiming that he’s passing on all his bad luck to you, so he can focus on the game. Truth to be told? He‘ll much rather give you an actual kiss.
Ace’s personal good luck charm, for every match.
Jamil lingers around you, when it’s time for a break. Plopping himself in the seat beside you, his shoulder bumping into yours. He likes to sit right by you, feeling his pulse race against yours. There’s something about having you next to him that just… sets him at ease.
Jamil times his heartbeat to yours, chest heaving up and down. Calming himself down for the next round, clearing his adrenaline pumped mind. You busy yourself with a towel as well, mopping off Jamil’s head. He’ll try to snatch the towel from you, muttering about how he can handle it himself, but you’re insistent about him taking a proper break.
Jamil can only give him to the fluff of the towel, and your gentle touch. Sometimes, your fingers just brush against his face, a sudden flush of warmth lingering on his skin. Almost like an intimate touch.
So he contents himself by watching you take care of the entire team. Sometimes, Jamil gets a little jealous, watching you flutter around, abuzz. He’ll ask for your help with braiding his hair, bundling it up into a tight bun of sorts. You gladly oblige, your fingers running through his hair.
Jamil appreciates this, honestly. Most of the time, he’s the one looking after Kalim. For once… it’s nice to feel fawned over, even if it’s only for a while. Well, since you’ve already put in so much effort for Jamil… guess it’s only right if he brought back a victory, hm?
Nothing less, for you.
Floyd likes to pick you up. Before and after, every match. Before the match begins, you’ll feel a pair of lanky arms snake around your torso, before you’re lifted up by Floyd. He gives you a quick affectionate squeeze, before setting you down again. His personal pre-match ritual, Floyd chirps as his chin nuzzles into your scalp.
He does this without warning every single time, sneaking up on you silently. Even if you’re wary, glancing around for any sign of that eel, Floyd still finds ways to surprise you. You’re not escaping his grip that easily, Shrimpy!
After every match, you’re immediately attacked by a very tall eel drenched in sweat. Floyd loses the slightly hint of subtlety after the entire basketball match, and just straight up grapples you into his arms.
If it’s a victory for Night Raven College’s team, Floyd’s swinging you around, his fingers wrapped tightly around your wrists. It’s a big win for him! Hey, did you see the way that guy’s face just fell when Floyd blocked his shot? Did you, did you?
On the days it ends in a loss, Floyd just grabs you and buries his face into your shoulder. You can feel his breaths on your skin, gentle puffs that make your shoulder tingle. He holds you there for a while, legs wrapping around his own. Silently reflecting on his loss, calibrating his emotions perhaps. You wouldn’t know.
Although in the silence of those days, you can’t help but worm an arm out of his hold, stroking his hair the best you can from that awkward angle. Rubbing his hair, tousling it up. Sometimes, Floyd lets you. Snuggling closer towards you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.
Sometimes he traps your hand under his cheek, nudging you softly. He won’t stop until your palm is flat against the side of his face, cupping his cheek tenderly. Sometimes he just wants to be held himself, Y’know?
Stay with him for a while, okay?
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