College!HockeyPlayer!Ari Levinson x Female!Reader // W/C: 290
A/N: Trying @societynsoelsscribbles challenge with 300 Words per fic. I changed today’s prompt to one of the alternates: I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.
Hot, fogging steam fills the room of the hockey player as he enters his bedroom. His middle long, brown — and yet still damp — hair is a mess on his head.
His lips are tugged upward into a soft, warm smile as he runs the towel from around his neck over his face once more.
"I represent — or present, whatever yo wanna call it — to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit," Ari grins, his eyes shining brighter than the sun as he plops down on his bed.
It's still a question in your mind how this thick, bulky man fits into a normal sized bed.
"You're a jerk," you mutter, your lips — these traitors — curling at the sides upward into the smallest smile you can offer. "You're neither a sin. Nor do-"
Ari leans back on his back, giving you a full view of his bare chest and stomach. His muscles bulge as he wiggles to make himself comfortable, his eyes staring back at you as a knowing chuckle escapes him.
"Keep talkin', don't get distracted by those non-sins," he says.
Your eyes roam over his chest, then down to his well defined abs and further to the boxer briefs that hug his thighs like they are a second skin. And they don't only hug his thighs perfectly but also his immense cock.
"I hate you," you whisper, turning away to focus on the task you're there for. Go over the latest assignment with him so he's not getting kicked out of the hockey team because he doesn't focus on his other responsibilities. "You should rewrite the second paragraph. And then you might want to add a few details on the second page of your assignment."
I saw a video of a woman getting dropped off by her husband at some kind of reunion, and just before she closed the door she said "Some of these guys fingered me, you know!" And then slammed it and ran towards the entrance 😂
How would these babes react in this or similar situations: Steve, Ari and Ransom 🤭
With Steve, you spend the few first minutes grinning and very smug you made that comment, already fantasizing a bit about what he might do to you when you return home.
But you don't have to wait so long.
When you go to use the restroom, suddenly there's a large presence crowding you in, putting a hand over your mouth and locking you in a stall. Then he's kicking your legs apart, free hand diving into your underwear.
"Wonder if you'll be thinking about the past when you go back there after cumming all over my fingers, brat."
✨
Ari laughs at your comment, not the least bothered by it. He knows you're breaking apart at the mere touch of his big fingers on your sweet pussy.
However, you start getting an influx of messages throughout the evening.
All pictures and clips of Ari's fingers. Close up on them as they clench, stretch, grip.
Then he sends one with focus on his hand stroking his cock...
✨
"Is that's supposed to rile me up, berry?" Ransom snorts, peering at you over the rim of his sunglasses.
"We both know that their game was lukewarm, since you said yourself that you've never come the way you do with me." His mouth curves into a smug, annoying smirk.
"If I remember correctly, you panted I didn't know fingers could do that-" he mocked your breathless tone- "after I made you squirt up to my wrist the first time I stretched that needy cunt on my hand."
FWB!(but also more than that?)Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // W/C: 380
A/N: Steve’s a dick in this one, but he regrets it. Anyway, skipped a few days of the January Scibbles by @societynsoelsscribblesmight catch up on them. Today’s prompt: But it feels real to me now, it felt real to me then.
"No," he mutters, running his hand through his thick hair. Steve's eyes are trained on the ground before him, his shoulders sagging slightly. "This isn't true!"
You sigh softly, letting your head fall back against the back of the couch. "Isn't it? So, when you smell like this one specific flower perfume, you gonna tell me it's from all the people throwing themselves at you when you walk along a fucking street?"
Steve mutters something under his breath, something you don't understand. But then he raises his voice again - loud enough for you to hear what he says.
"I didn't say that," he says, his voice getting louder and angrier. "And don't twist my words for your liking."
"Oh, so now you're gonna get angry. Amazing, really! You're the one who- I don't know, uses his name to fuck around and get his dick as drenched as he can-" you shake your head, this isn't where you wanted this conversation to go.
Steve growls under his breath, his head snapping up to glare at you. "It's not that- the thing between you and me, it's nothing more than with these women. We fuck. We have fun, and you never complained when we had sex."
You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. Your heart beats fast in your chest, and you can feel it crack slowly.
"So, it was just sex? All these times you came back from a mission and needed someone to talk, to hold you, what was that then?" You ask, tears threaten to roll down your cheeks.
"Yes. And don't act like it ever meant more. It's not real. We are not real, and you know it," he huffs, running his fingers through his hair once more.
You nod, your throat suddenly pretty dry and tight. You clear your throat once and exhale. "Just for the record, it feels real to me now. And it felt real to me then."
And with that, you walk out. Your heart shattering, your tears dripping down your face. But you don't look back, you don't turn to see the stunning — regretful expression of the golden boy.
Because for you he isn't golden anymore. He's just someone who broke your heart like he promised he would never do.
A/N: Please be aware, there’s slight mention of woman not being treated nicely and used as secretary for literally everything. For @societynsoelsscribbles with the prompt: Arm yourself because no one else here will save you. Dedicated to @gremlin-girly, the biggest Mace fan I know.
Mace's whistles break through the otherwise quiet room - through your quiet time.
His steps are purposefully heavy as he stomps into the room and lets himself fall down next to you on the couch - reaching for the remote control to turn on the television.
"Fuck off, Mace," you growl, trying to snatch the remote control out of his hand to turn down the volume but he just places it next to him where you can't reach and leans back with a sly smirk. "You're such a fucking dick.”
"But you need me, so," he mutters, watching the movie he turned on - water, ocean. As he always does when he comes into this room, his way to calm his shouting mind.
" I need shit," you huff, rolling your eyes as you turn up the volume of your phone, hoping your music through your headphones will help.
But instead, Mace does the same with the television. His eyes trained on the movie while you almost break and scream that he should shut the fuck off and go somewhere else where he doesn't annoy anyone.
But you can't. As much as you would like.
Mace — as annoying as he is — is the only guy in the company who keeps you save. For some reason he protects you from the coworkers who get handsy, from your boss when he tries to explain that you're supposed to bow to everyone's wish.
Anyway they want. Because you're the secretary for everyone - and for everything.
"Then, arm yourself because no one else here will save you," Mace tells you but instead of leaving, he stays. He always does and somehow your thankful he does.
To your surprise he even turns down the volume, allowing you to listen to your music without having it at the loudest setting possible.
"Thank you," you whisper, pulling out a wrapped box with a fork to slide it — as if it's a secret — toward Mace. "Your favorite."
Each part will be tagged accordingly but will try to avoid spoilers as much as possible. Please read at your on risk. All of my work is 18+
Header made in canva with pictures sourced on Pinterest. Credit to OG creators/posters. Dividers are by @/saradika-graphics
General tags: sci-fi, romance (not telling you what tropes, you'll have to find out ;) ),
Story summary: When a routine trip to a colony station goes awry, you're left braving the the great unknown with a man that hates you and a man you hate.
Warnings: fluff, fun, set past "CA: CW" not canon-compliant
Words: 343
A/N: Written for @societynsoelsscribbles - JanuaryJumbleScribbles.
Prompt for January 12th: “Let them say we’re crazy, what do they know?”
“Bucky, maybe you should put me down. I can run, you know. People are watching.”
Eyes are following you and your boyfriend. You can hear people at the park whisper, laugh, and snort. It doesn’t matter, though. Bucky keeps on running through the park with you on his back.
He hasn’t felt like this in centuries. Bucky is carefree and happy. If people don’t like him running after your cat and Steve’s dog with you riding his back, they can choke.
“No, no, doll. I won't let you chase after them. It’s my fault they are on the run.” Bucky sprints along the park, ignoring more people, to catch up with the pets on the run.
“Buck, they will believe we are crazy!”
“Let them say we’re crazy, what do they know?” He huffs but doesn’t put you down. Bucky chases after the pets, calling for Cosmo, Steve’s dog.
“Maybe we look crazy to them.”
“We are having fun and need to get these furry escapists back. Steve will get mad if we come back without his dog.”
You chuckle when Cosmo stops in their tracks. The German shepherd looks your way, watching Bucky sneak toward him and Alpine. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear Cosmo smirked before he ran off again, followed by your treacherous cat.
“What is going on here?” You know that voice, Bucky does too. He stops chasing the pets, looking at Steve, who stands in the park, his hands on his hips. “Are you walking my dog or is he walking you?”
“We tried a new trick and…uh…it got out of hand,” Bucky sheepishly admits. “Cosmo ran off, and Alpine followed your dog. He’s a bad influence.”
Bucky finally allows you to get off his back, immediately taking your hand to hold it. A habit you love. He can never be around you for long without seeking closeness.
Steve shakes his head. Everyone is still staring your way, wondering how you ended up getting a piggyback ride from the former winter soldier while chasing Captain America’s dog…
A/N: Today’s prompt for @societynsoelsscribbles “Let them say we’re crazy, what do they know.” Fits pretty good with it, so younger girlfriend x older boyfriend.
Glances. Quiet voices.
You're used to it. Somewhat, because for some reason these sneers and disgusted looks make you feel small and shy even after so many compliments and niceness at the galas.
Ari's arm is tightly wrapped around your waist, fingers drumming softly onto your dress covered skin as he leads you through the crowd toward your table.
"Ignore them," he whispers, kissing the side of your head as he nods to one of his rivals.
You nod, head a bit lower than usually as you push your smaller body tighter into his side.
'It's just a small age gap.' You try telling yourself, even when small means at least ten years. It's nothing, it's not even that much, but for these people around it's a lot.
A ceo, known and respected. He has experiences in life and love.
And then the girl next to him who looks like his daughter — even if you would be too old for that. A girl who knows shit and is after him for his money, nothing more nothing less.
"Sweetheart," Ari warns as if he can read your thoughts. You're more than a spoiled brat for him, an he's way more than a credit card. "Let them think what they want. Let them they we are crazy, what do they know?"
"Nothing," you mumble. Ari nods with a soft smile, stopping in his tracks just before you reach the table. He turns to stand in front of you, thick fingers curling underneath your jaw to tilt your head.
"They know shit," he says, leaning down to peck your lips softly. "I love you, and you look stunning. So, let's get to our seats and enjoy a nice dinner and let everyone know who I belong to. Yours, sweetheart."
Summary: You and Mary are just the right kind of stubborn to get Frank to open up.
A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.
A/N2: Written for the Small Town Fics 2026 challenge!
Working at Everett's Diner was a decent living, at least in a small town. You were able to make enough to get by and, thanks to Ma letting you still live at home, you were able to add to your savings, little by little. It's doubtful you'd ever be able to get your own home, but maybe you could save up for a vacation. A real trip somewhere nice.
It's not like you had much else to save up for. Ma called your savings a "wedding fund" but you know better. There's only one man in town you've got an eye on and he ain't interested in you. Not interested in anyone, if the gossip is to be believed. It's a shame the only man who seemed interested in you was Mr. Barber, principal of the high school. You've never been one for authority figures. Plus, given his summer work at the ATV Park, Frank was willing to get his hands dirty. That automatically made him more appealing. You love a man who's good with his hands.
But, of course, Frank wasn't interested in anyone. He spent all his time either teaching, grading papers, tutoring, fixing ATV's or taking care of his niece, Mary. You can appreciate being self-sufficient, happy with a simple life, but damn you wanted to be part of his.
If it weren't for Mary's encouragement, you would have given up by now. She's confided in you that he's interested but keeps coming up with excuses.
"He's being difficult and I don't know why," she pouted. "He says you should do better than a grump, but I think he'd be less grumpy if you dated. He needs the help."
Even Curtis was willing to do his part, making sure your schedule lined up with Frank and Mary's most expected times to visit the diner. Used to be working the Sunday morning shift was a punishment; churchgoers were notoriously stingy on tips and highly demanding. But Frank and Mary would always stop by before the church crowd arrived, a nice time for conversation. Didn't hurt that Frank always tipped extra well those days, especially after he learned how rough it could get once the crowd started showing up.
You walk up to refill Frank's coffee and catch a bit of whispered conversation.
"You need to ask her out!" Mary whisper yells.
"I don't need to," Frank argues.
"But you want to," she teases.
Frank rolls his eyes and looks like he's going to say something but stops himself when he sees you. There's a slight blush to his cheeks as you ask if he needs a refill.
"He needs a date!" Mary loudly proclaims, causing Frank to give her a "really?" look.
You want to laugh, but you still need this to be Frank's decision so you look Mary in the eye, still smiling, and say, "then he just needs to ask for one."
Mary points at you while looking at Frank, "see?! I told you so!"
Frank looks genuinely upset and, while you want to encourage Mary, while you want him to choose you, you don't want to hurt him.
"Hey, if he's not ready, he's not ready," you calmly tell her. "I can be patient because I'm sure he's worth the wait."
Mary deflates a little and pouts. Again, you try not to chuckle; she has the cutest facial expressions. But you think you also see Frank relax a little.
As the Sunday crowd starts to trickle in, Frank meets you at the register to pay their bill. He seems antsy and you're not sure if he's in a hurry to get out before it gets loud and crowded, or if he's upset about something.
"Have a good day," you smile as you hand him his change.
"Um..." he hesitates. For a second you're worried you did the math wrong, and in front of a math teacher, no less! But he doesn't seem to be caring about the money. "There's...there's going to be a little field trip for some of the high school students. There's going to be a lunar eclipse Friday and a few of us teachers are going to have a little campfire with some telescopes..."
"Do you need me to babysit Mary?" you ask when he stays quiet.
"What? No, no. Mary will be with us," Frank shakes his head. "I was thinking...would you...like to join us?"
Your heart soars you can't stop your smile from growing. "I'd love to, Frank."
He smiles, shoulders sagging a little. You think he might be blushing a little. "Great. See you there."
As he walks away, Mary scowls. "That's not a real date," she quietly tells you.
"It's still something," you reassure. "For someone like Frank, baby steps are needed."
"Because he's a baby," she rolls her eyes.
"Possibly," you giggle. "But progress is progress. I'll see you both on Friday, okay?"
"Okay. I'll make sure he dresses up a little. If I have to wear something special for my first day at school, he's gotta wear something special for this almost-a-date."
"That's absolutely fair," you nod, trying again not to laugh.
A/N: @krirebr said I “should” write Curtis, so I did write Curtis! Jokes aside, I wanted to write him and Kris only encouraged me. @societynsoelsscribbles with the prompt: “You let me do this every time.”
A broad hand settles next to your smaller frame onto the counter of the bar, a low rumble from behind you catching your attention but you're not turning around - yet.
His head lowers down to your shoulder, mouth brushing your ear with a warm breath against your skin.
“Another drink for the lady," he says toward the barkeeper, eyes still searching yours as he leans further forward. "Nice to see you too, sweetheart."
The roughness of his voice mixed with the sweetness of his words as your legs wobbling and your fingers tighten into the wood of the counter.
“You let me do this every time. You say thank you," he whispers, lips pressing against your ear. "But you won't let me take you home."
“You know why, Curt," you mutter, nodding toward the barkeeper who pushes another drink toward you - with extra cherries just how you like it.
“Might remind me, Cherry."
"Cause you won't keep your hands to yourself, and we both know-" you interrupt yourself, you don't even have a reason to keep him on distance anymore.
You're on vacation. Curtis owns the bar. If he would keep you in bed all day - neither of you would have to mind actually.
“You haven't asked me today," you then reply, giggling softly when his low rumble brushes your skin, tickling softly.
“Do you let me take you home tonight?" He asks - as so often. "'Cause when you deny me one more time, Cherry, I can't promise anything. I might just throw you over my shoulder and drag out out of here. Or maybe we give them all a show."
You giggle, humming around the edge of your glass as you take a sip. Before you can answer, he takes the glass out of your hands and drowns the rest with one big gulp.
"Don't pout, we got plenty of these home," Curtis mutters, curling his arms around your waist to lift you off the chair and carry you out of the bar. "Gonna show you what you missed out. Denying me all these times, now you're gonna beg me to fill you."
A/N: day 7 of January Jumble Scribbles with prompt "Do you love me now that I can dance?" // lovely Clark fanart by @beeandthescreen <3 // based the beginning a bit on Jess from New Girl lol
"Are you watching Dirty Dancing again?!" Your roommate exclaims from the kitchen where he's unpacking groceries.
"Yes," you sniffle, singing 'Do you love me now that I can dance?' under your breath. You have the film memorized by now. It's the one you always watch when you've been dumped.
Clark eyes the TV with a raised brow. The couple on screen is certainly dancing… dirty. He walks to the couch where you've set up camp—Kleenex strewn about, your favorite blankets, and a half-drunk bottle of cheap wine.
"Okay, time to get up," he says gently, but with authority. He grabs the remote and clicks the TV off. "It's beautiful outside. Metropolis is showing off today. Go shower and put on something cute."
You grimace. "Cute?"
"I know you have dresses in that mess of a closet. Pick one out and go shower. It'll make you feel better. Then I'm taking you outside to get some fresh air and sun."
"Fine," you grumble, irritated, but knowing he's right.
Clark tidies the living room and packs a lunch for the two of you while you shower and get dressed. He never liked that boyfriend of yours anyway. It's for the best that you've gone your separate ways, even if it's making you feel like this.
"Why do we have a picnic basket?" You ask as you walk into the kitchen, eyeing the literal basket complete with a gingham lining.
Clark pokes his head out the pantry and stops. You look beautiful… which is nothing new, but right now you're beautiful and single. And it makes him want to—
"Clark?" You say, looking at him curiously. "Are you taking me out for a picnic to make me feel better?"
"Yes, I am," he says, crossing his arms across his broad chest proudly. "Plus I can't watch them put Baby in a corner again."
Oh no! Your sister just ran away with her lover, leaving her groom at the altar because he is very terrifying. You marry him instead to save face, I hope he isn't mad when he unveils you 😉
A/N: Reader is female, plus size. No other descriptors used.
Warnings: Implied violence. Please let me know if I missed any.
You steel yourself before walking down the aisle. This isn't how you imagined your wedding to be, and you know this isn't what the groom is expecting. Instead of a wedding dress, you're wearing a white pantsuit. Instead of a bouquet, you're carrying legal documents.
Levinson sees you and scowls in confusion. His glare is known to cause fear in even the strongest men, but you keep walking. If only because you have to.
You don't blame your sister for running. Levinson's reputation preceded him and he certainly lived down to it whenever he was around her. She's always been a good little sister to you and you always tried to protect her. At least you know she'll be safe with a man who truly loves her.
By the time you reach the altar, Levinson is red with anger.
"What the hell is this? Where is your sister?"
"She's not coming," you state, trying to quash the nervousness in your voice. "I will be fulfilling my family's part of the contract."
"Your sister was the agreed upon bride," he seethes.
You open up the contract in your arms and point to the paragraph you knew was going to be needed.
"According to the contract, 'a daughter' will be given as bride. It never specifies which." Levinson rolls his shoulders and fear shoots down your spine, but you can't back down. "If you would like to get the lawyers involved, especially in regards to verbal versus written agreements, we can delay the wedding to accommodate. But let it be known that, our family has fulfilled our end of the deal by providing you a bride at the allotted date and time."
Levinson throws his head back and laughs, startling you.
"I am definitely getting the better bride," he comments. "You and your sister are both afraid of me, yes?" You nod in confirmation. "And yet, you are facing me. You're loyal to and protective of your family. You're willing to challenge me. These are traits I can respect. A wife who is constantly terrified of me would get old real quick. "
He gently cups your chin. "You can set down the contract, sweetheart. Won't look so good for the wedding photos."
Big, grumpy guy who laughs and tells you he got the better wife because she isn’t as afraid as she maybe should or tries to pretend - or whatever? Urgh, the “You can set down the contract, sweetheart. Won’t look so good on the wedding photos.” Ah, yes.
summary: you dress to provoke your husband, only it doesn’t end the way you had hoped.
prompt: “you behave so much better when i have my hands on you” (swapped)
warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, degradation, established relationship, pet names (pumpkin)
jazz talks: is it me or is lloyd not appreciated enough?? ladies pls give a warm welcome and have your legs open ready for mr. hansen! day 4 of january jumble scribbles.
word count: 378 (hey im really trying here)
It had all started with a dress. Crimson silk so sheer and delicate, leaving little to the imagination. You had chosen it with the intent of provoking a reaction from the man who had treated you like a ghost for the past five days.
Lloyd’s work had become his mistress and you were determined to remind him of the wife he had waiting in his bed. You had stepped into his office, leaning over his desk to “ask a question,” giving the six men he was meeting with a view they would never have.
The air had grown thick with tension, the only sounds were the shuffling of feet and the soft click of Lloyd shutting his laptop. He hadn’t even looked at you, but you felt the temperature drop to arctic levels.
Now, that same desk is cold against your cheek, your body bent over it as Lloyd takes you from behind. There’s no gentleness, only a raw, merciless rhythm born of pure, unrestrained fury. Your dress is a ruined puddle of silk around your waist, torn in his haste to reclaim what he knew had always been his.
His arm presses firmly against your shoulder blades, pinning you in place, while his other digs into your hip, pulling you back to meet each brutal snap of his hips.
“Thought you were clever, didn’t you?” he grunts, his voice a low growl. “Parading yourself around like a common whore for my men to see.”
A whimper escapes your lips as he angles his hips, hitting a spot deep inside that makes your vision blur. You feel the coil tightening in your belly. “Oh god- fuck- Lloyd, please…”
“You behave so much better when I have my hands on you.”
He can feel you’re close. He stops suddenly, the loss of friction is a new kind of torture. You push back against him, a desperate plea to continue.
“Nooo please, Lloyd. please let me come. I was so close.”
A dark chuckle vibrates through his chest. He leans down, his lips brushing your ear.
“Oh I know, pumpkin. But you don’t get to come until I say so. You wanted my attention? You fucking have it. Now, you’re going to learn what it means to be patient.”
lloyd pls degrade me! thank you so much for reading! hope you enjoyed! pls like/comment/reblog if so and let me know what you think!
pairing: professor ari levinson x grad student f!reader
summary: professor levinson finally acts on his semester-long desire for his best student, you.
prompt: “look at me when I’m talking to you.”
warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI, oral sex (cunnilingus), pussy slapping (one time), praise, pet names (sweetheart)
jazz talks: i just couldn't resist! day 6 of january jumble scribbles. huge inspiration from the lovely @epiphanyrogers! ari lost to bucky on her poll and i was a wee bit disappointed (i voted for ari 🫣 i still love you, bucky!) but it was still a huge win! pls go pay professor barnes a visit and tell him professor ari says hi!
word count: 403 (i mean come on, it's professor ari! can you really blame me!?)
You are perched on the edge of your professor’s mahogany desk, your skirt bunched up around your hips.
Ari kneels before you, his broad shoulders pushing your legs wider apart. The first stroke of his tongue against your pussy makes you jolt, a soft gasp escaping your lips. Your head falls back, eyes squeezing shut as if you could block out the overwhelming reality of the situation.
He’d wanted this, wanted you, since the first day of the semester. He remembered you perfectly: seated front row and center, being the first to answer his questions. You quickly became his best student. You were so eager to learn, so earnest, and he’d spent months fantasizing about this exact moment.
His tongue finds your clit, circling the sensitive bud with a quick, deliberate pace that makes your hips jerk.
He is relentless, his mouth working with a devastating expertise that has you trembling. Each flick and swirl sends another jolt of pleasure straight through you.
“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groans, the sound making your stomach flutter. “Knew you would. Knew this pretty little pussy would be perfect for me.” He flattens his tongue, licking a broad stripe up your slit before circling back to your clit. “So responsive, shaking for me already. Look at me, sweetheart, tell me how good it feels.”
You can’t answer. Your throat is tight, your mind goes blank from the overwhelming sensation. You can only manage a strangled, pathetic whimper.
The rhythm of his tongue slows. He pulls back, his warm breath a ghost over your slick, swollen flesh. Then a harsh, stinging slap lands directly on your exposed pussy. The shock of it rips a sharp gasp from your lungs.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” Your eyes fly open, instantly locking with his. “Tell me.”
A soft, broken sob escapes you. “It… it feels so good. Please, keep going, Professor”
His dark gaze is intense, locked on yours as he leans back in. He holds your stare as he slowly takes your clit between his lips and sucks. Hard.
A choked cry tears from your throat. The visual is too much. The sight of his dark head buried between your legs, his eyes burning into you as he pleasures you without hesitation.
“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, releasing you just enough to speak. “Now, watch me while I make you come on my tongue.”
it's that time of the month and i am unwell! thank you so much for reading! hope you enjoyed! pls like/comment/reblog if so and let me know what you think!
FootballPlayer!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // W/C: 270
A/N: “How could something so real be so quickly erased?” as today’s prompt - another alternative prompt - for @societynsoelsscribbles.
Thick fingers brush through the soft strands of blond hair, heavy breathing coming from the man in front of you. His ice blue, yet glassy eyes, look down onto the floor of the locker room.
Your fingers run up and down his thick thighs, gently squeezing the tensed muscles underneath his pants.
"How could something so real be so quickly erased?" He asks, it's more of a breath than words but you catch them anyway. "One damn accident and you're about to find a new-"
You interrupt the football player, fingers skimming along his arms to capture his hands softly with yours.
"That's the sports business. But you know, Coach only had a bad day, he wouldn't throw you out. Not even when you ruin a hundred touch downs," you whisper, leaning your upper body against his knees.
Steve nods, his hands sliding down his cheeks. Blue eyes meeting yours, and only the you notice the cut underneath his eye. Moving your thumb along the skin just underneath the cut you sigh softly.
"He needs you on the team. You know that. He knows it. We all do, so don't stress yourself about it," you say, kissing the back of his head.
"I love you, you know that?" He whispers, letting his head fall back against the wall with a quiet thud.
"And I love you. Now let me have a look at these cuts," you mutter, getting off the ground to tower above him and press a kiss against his lips. "Take of your shirt, Stevie, gonna take a look at these bruises on your chest and ribs too."
summary: days after meeting your first friend in college, natasha, you were introduced to her friend group. it was then that you met him, Steve Rogers. and after being cancelled on your friends, you finally got what you wanted. to be alone with him.
tags/warnings:: more fluff (i love fluff), confessions!!, an almost kiss, their friend group are a bunch of little shits, no usage of y/n, reader is flustered a LOT.
wc: 1.4k words.
a/n: sorry (not sorry) for writing another fic with a college setting... literally the 3/5 now wow. btw first fic of 2026 yay! hope you enjoyed!!
When you first arrived at your new university, you knew absolutely nobody.
Moving through waves of unfamiliar faces, dragging your suitcase and heavy backpack down endless of hallways, until you finally find your assigned dorm.
And when you opened the door to see a gorgeous redhead already unpacking on one of the two twin-sized beds, you had no idea you were about to meet your first real friend.
Her name was Natasha.
The two of you clicked instantly—too easily, it surprised you. You became close friends quickly. Telling each other your background, family back home, and even gossips from your hometown.
Within days, she was already pulling you into her world. Introducing you to her friend group like you have known them since forever. That Friday night transformed everything.
“Are you sure it’s okay if I come?” You doubted. The nerves tugging in your stomach as you stop before the door of a dive bar.
Natasha just smirked, the kind that made it seem like she knew something you didn’t.
“Shut up,” she chuckled. “They’ll love you.”
When you walked into the bar, she introduced you to everyone—her sister Yelena, Wanda, Bucky, Sam…
…And Steve.
You could’ve sworn your mouth went dry—stomach burst with butterflies, the second you saw him.
As weeks turned into months, your friendship with the group grew. Tragically, so have your feelings towards Steve. You managed to keep it hidden. Telling yourself it was nothing—just a stupid little attraction to a gorgeous, Greek god-built guy who had a damning dimple, and smiled like he meant it every time.
Then, for the first time since meeting him, you got exactly what you’d secretly—selfishly—wanted, to be alone with him.
It was supposed to be a group study session in the library as usual. You were surprised to see no one there, since Bucky usually camps at a table after one of his classes, but you sit down on your usual table anyway.
Pulling out your books and laptop to start preparing, opening tabs of ebooks and too many PDFs– when Friday afternoon slowly bled into a string of cancellation texts from the others, except for one.
You sighed, deciding to continue alone (and not be too hopeful), till you saw him the second he walked in. No, you probably felt him before he even opened the door.
Steve grinned when he saw you at the usual desk, strutting his way over with his usual confidence that made you unable to look away.
“Hey,” he called, his dimple faint, already showing.
Then he sat beside you, dropping his backpack down, sliding an iced coffee over the table.
“Hazelnut latte,” continued casually. “Don’t worry– I remember the oat milk.”
You felt your heart stop.
“You remember?” you asked quietly, staring at the cup like it was something too sacred to touch. Fingers brushing over the condensed plastic.
He only shrugged, “Of course. You know why the others cancelled?”
“No… weird. Do you?” tilting your head.
He opened his phone to check a text. “Asked Bucky. Told me that something came up… didn’t tell what though.”
“Huh…” you exclaimed confusingly, opening your phone straight to your group chat.
You: where the hell are all of you !!!
pretty nat: emergency came up 😬
sam the bird: deadline got moved up, gotta grind
wanda my beloved: migraine, sorry guys
lena <3: 🤷♀️
You: ??? lena, thats not even an excuse
buckkk: 🫡 good luck, lovebirds
You blinked. Looking up to the side to see Steve already beaming at his phone, before typing back, slowly.
You: liars. all of you 🙄
Almost half a second later–
pretty nat: wow. rude. enjoy ur ‘studying’
sam the bird: use protection
You: WHAT?? SAM?????
wanda my beloved: sam chill!!
lena <3: LMAOOO
buckkk: proud of you stevie 👍
stevie: bucky i swear to god
Slamming your phone down, your face was flushed. Heat creeping up to your cheeks.
Mortified.
When you looked up to him again, he was already holding back his laughter. Hand over his mouth while his shoulders shake as soon as he fails to contain it.
“They planned this,” you huffed, still glaring at your blowing-up phone. For sure, the group chat.
“Oh absolutely,” he smirked, eyes bright with amusement and mischief. “Days in advance, probably—hell, weeks.” chuckling.
“They are insufferable.” You groaned, scrubbing your face with your hands.
He only leaned in. Voice lower as if he’s sharing a secret.
“Honestly? I’m not mad about it.” He shrugged. Making you look up to him, folding your hands down on the desk.
“In fact,” he leaned back on the wooden chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m kind of glad they did it.” Face etched with that annoyingly attractive smug grin of his.
Oh you don’t know whether to slap or kiss that smile off his face.
“That so?” you raised a brow. Lips slightly tugging at the corner of your mouth.
“Mhm.” he hummed. Leaning forward again, resting his chin on his palm. Studying you, with his eyes on your lips a beat too long.
“Because,” dragging your name out teasingly, “I may or may not just like spending time with you.” He smiled wider.
You were going to have a heart attack at this point. Unable to even mutter a word, your mouth parted, before it closes again.
His teasing grin turned into something softer. Eyes holding your gaze, open and sincere. Completely smitten.
Steve didn’t care how obvious he was being with his own feelings.
Cause, for the love of god, he wanted you to know.
The air between you changed, suddenly thick with tension and something unspoken.
He was still leaning forward with his chin resting in his palm. Eyes fixed on your face like he was memorizing every detail. Your wide eyes, slightly parted lips that he wanted to kiss so bad– before looking at your eyes again.
You swallowed. Mouth feeling too dry.
“I–” you finally spoke up, before stopping again.
His gaze moved to your lips again. Just a beat too long, making your breath hitch.
“You okay?” he asked. Brows slightly knitted as his worry showed.
You nodded, though your heart was hammering so loud you were sure he could hear it.
“Yeah– yeah.” You stammered. Taking a deep breath and finally exhaling, letting at least some nerves dissipate.
“Just– I didn’t know–” hesitating, “I didn’t know you felt that way…” You muttered.
He smiled at that. Softer than you ever see him.
“Guess I got tired of hiding it…” He confessed gently. You can see how his cheeks are now dusted with redness. Making yourself flushed harder.
You finally distracted yourself. Eyes landing on the long forgotten laptop and watered down ice coffee he brought you, till you felt him shift.
Not touching you. Not yet. But near enough that you felt his warmth and his faint scent of cologne. Lavender? You didn’t care, you just know that it was addicting and you needed more.
Your fingers twitched. An attempt to chase him.
He noticed.
“You don’t have to–” his voice was gentle, careful, but you didn’t let him finish.
Instead, you leaned in just an inch. Close enough that you felt his breath fanned your face, that you could see the tiny freckle on his cheek, the crinkle around his eye as it searched your expressions for permission.
Your stomach flipped. All you could focus on was him. Not the quiet sounds of pages turning, patrons murmuring throughout the library. Only Steve.
He moved slowly, intentionally—giving you time to say no and pull back. Nose brushing yours, just barely there, as your breaths mixed with his.
“Okay?” he breathed quietly.
You nodded.
And then–
A loud THUMP echoed somewhere behind the shelves, making you jerk and pull back.
“Shit!” someone hissed, followed by distressed whispering.
“Sam, I told you not to hover over the shelves–”
“I didn’t hover–”
Steve froze, eyes wide, before groaning in frustration and dropping his forehead on the table.
“Oh my god,” you sighed, heat flooding your face.
From the shelves, Natasha’s recognizable voice carried over, “abort. ABORT.”
Steve finally looked back up at you. Cheeks red, eyes bright as he held back his laughter.
“So…” he started, signature grin already painted on his face, “that was… almost something.”
You smiled back, shy, breathless, and entirely undone.
“Yeah.” You giggled, “almost, huh?”
He finally let out a chuckle, gaze still lingering on your lips a beat too long.
“Rain check?”
You nodded, “rain check,” a small grin on your face.
“Come on out you fuckers!” You called out, making Steve laugh harder, before all of them stepped out. Sheepish smiles on their faces.
prompt: You don't see stars here, just city lights
summary: You might sell out stadiums on tour, but forty floors above the city, your bodyguard reminds you who you really put on a show for.
warnings/tags: SMUT, p in v, exhibitionism, pet names (sweetheart, baby), does window sex count as semi-public sex?, 18+ MDNI
from maddie: back on my horny agenda for day 9 of january jumble scribbles! had an idea and ran with it, not quite what i meant for it to be but we ball. late again (😔) being back at work has fucked me up icl
word count: 337
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Down in Times Square, your popstar facade is plastered across billboards - flawless, iconic, untouchable.
But forty floors above the city, it’s you Steve has on display, bent against the panoramic window of your penthouse suite. Hips arched, tits flattened to the glass, pussy leaking down your thighs as his thick cock slams into you from behind.
You’re dizzy with it. The exposure, the thought of being seen like this - all fucked out and falling apart, sobbing Steve’s name to an audience you can’t see - and it makes your walls flutter desperately around him.
“Steve—fuck—” you moan, fogging the window with your breath as your fingers scrabble for purchase against the glass.
“That’s it, baby,” he rasps, beard scratching your skin as he nips along your pulse. “Let them see what their perfect little popstar looks like when she’s really putting on a show.”
His hand glides up between your breasts, fingertips teasing your throat before curling around your jaw, tilting your face toward the glass. Your ruined reflection blinks back at you: mascara smeared, lips parted, Steve’s broad chest like a wall of muscle behind you, caging you in.
Beyond your reflection, the night sky wraps around you like a voyeur, but you don’t see stars here, just city lights smeared through the window, now streaked with condensation.
Steve’s free hand drops between your thighs, sliding through the slick mess coating your cunt like he needs to feel just how wet you are for him. It pulls another desperate whine from you, hips bucking back against him and clit throbbing under his fingers.
He circles it fast, merciless, each stroke winding you tighter, pressure coiling so sharp it’s unbearable. Your breath hitches, chest heaving against the glass as your cunt clenches hard around his cock, coming so hard your legs nearly collapse.
“Shit—“ Steve curses, grinding deep as your pussy throbs around him. “Gonna fuck you just like this in every city on this tour, sweetheart. Make the whole world watch you come on my cock.”
thank you for all the love on these scribbles so far!! the reblogs and comments have been much appreciated and i'm having a lot of fun with the prompts! if you enjoyed, please like & reblog/comment as i would be super grateful for feedback <3
“That’s it, baby,” he rasps, beard scratching your skin as he nips along your pulse. “Let them see what their perfect little popstar looks like when she’s really putting on a show.”
summary: just because your mouth’s full doesn’t mean you can forget your manners.
warnings/tags: SMUT, pwp, oral (m receiving), daddy kink, praise kink, soft dom!ari, sub!reader, dumbification if you squint, 18+ MDNI
from maddie: day 6 of january jumble scribbles! kinda accidentally did this prompt on day 3 without realising (oopsie) but ari levinson has been living in my brain recently, and he’s just so beefy and broad and 🤤 he’s just sooo soft dom sugar daddy coded like i just know that man would take care of you. i have just realised that there isn’t really any indication of the sugar daddy/baby relationship in this, but just know that’s what they are in my head lmfao
word count: 490 (sigh)
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Ari stands above you, chest bare, muscles flexing with every shallow roll of his hips as your lips stretch wide around the thick, veiny length of his cock. Every time you choke around him, a low, pleased groan escapes his lungs, fingers tightening in your hair, pushing you further down.
You stuff yourself down to the base, nose buried against the dark thatch of hair at his groin, and the flushed head of his cock presses at that tender spot at the back of your throat. Spit pools down your chin and onto your tits in long, sticky strands.
Your eyes flutter shut, lashes wet against your cheeks, too busy moaning around the salty tang of him on your tongue to make sense of the low words he rumbles above you.
“Look at you, baby. Fuckin’ made for this cock. Want Daddy to come down your throat? You gonna beg for it like the good little slut you are?”
All he gets back is a distracted little “hmmph” vibrating around his length, your brows furrowed like he’s interrupting you, still swallowing around him like you’re trying to milk him with your throat.
“Where are your manners, sweetheart?” Ari tuts, dragging you off with a wet little pop, a messy string of spit trailing from your swollen lips to his twitching cock.
You whine immediately at the loss, a pathetic sound, already trying to chase him back with a desperate little lurch. But his fingers slide to your jaw, pressing into your cheeks and tilting your head up to look at him. “You know the rules. Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
Your eyes flutter open, all doe eyes and flushed cheeks, as Ari drags the leaking tip of his cock across your pouting lips. A reminder of what you’re missing.
“You didn’t even hear me, did you?” he murmurs, eyes dark with lust. “So pretty like this, babygirl. But I asked you a question.”
You blink up at him, dazed, mouth still open, chest rising fast as you try to pull the words back out of the fog in your head. It takes a second to remember what he even said, distracted by the useless ache of your pussy.
Then it clicks, and you nod fast, eager, lips parting around a desperate little gasp.
“Please Daddy—please,” you babble. “Need your cum so bad, wanna be your good girl, please let me have it.”
Ari groans low, hand tightening on your jaw just a second longer before guiding you back down, cock brushing your swollen lips before you open wide and swallow around him again.
“Fuck,” he pants. “Just like that. That’s my good girl. Your brain just goes all empty when you’re sucking Daddy’s cock, huh baby?”
You hum sweetly around him, eyes obediently locked on his, as he starts to fuck your throat with slow, possessive thrusts, until he gives you exactly what you begged for.
thank you for all the love on these scribbles so far!! the reblogs and comments have been much appreciated and i'm having a lot of fun with the prompts! if you enjoyed, please like & reblog/comment as i would be super grateful for feedback <3
