#and blue football t-shirts
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"USA Football Fanatic Tee" Classic T-Shirt
Show your passion for American football with the "USA Football Fanatic" tee! Designed in patriotic colors and featuring a bold football helmet and stars, this shirt is a tribute to true football fans. Whether you’re cheering from the stands or celebrating at a tailgate, this design embodies the energy and pride of American football culture. Perfect for game days, Super Bowl parties, and any occasion that calls for team spirit!
visit our stores from here
#usa football fanatic t-shirts#american football fan t-shirts#patriotic football t-shirts#football helmet and stars design t-shirts#football culture t-shirts#game day fan gear t-shirts#super bowl fan t-shirts#red t-shirts#white t-shirts#and blue football t-shirts#tailgate party t-shirts
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Kith & '47 for the NFL: New York Giants Vintage Tee
The Kith & '47 for the NFL: Giants Vintage Tee is crafted of vintage-washed 230GSM cotton jersey, complete with a ribbed neckline and custom artwork printed on the front.
DETAILS
• Vintage-washed 230GSM cotton jersey
• Ribbed neckline
• Graphic printed on the front
• Logo printed at the back neckline
• Machine wash inside out
• Wash with like colors
• Style: khm032685-413
• Color: Nocturnal
• Material: 100% Cotton
#New York Giants#NYG#Big Blue#nfl#football#KITH#collaboration#47 Brand#t shirts#tees#clothing#clothes#cool#dope#fresh#awesome
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This happened to me. It was a weird circumstance where I and my german classmates at uni ended up as a football team playing against other uni's actual first men's teams. It was a big misunderstanding but I digress.
I was one of two men on our "team" and everyone else was too scared to go in goal. I stepped up and did it. I didn't have gloves or even shin pads. Sheffield were absolutely smashing us in our mismatched t shirts and trainers in their full uni kit. It was about 10-0 near the end. I'd attempted to save a few and got my wrists battered for trying. So I was mostly just trying not to get hurt.
Eventually I got one right in the groin. The cunt must have done it on purpose honestly. I fell to the floor, despite my cock and balls being silicone it was still very painful. I cried. Because it hurt, also because it was so humiliating.
I'd never had the fear the OP described. I was stealth to all my classmates who were there that day. I didn't have to act, I didn't have any dysphoria around it, I just felt emasculated and it did hurt my (natural) cock and the whole area.
My (favourite from my whole time at uni tbh) lecturer came and helped me hobble to the sideline. She'd signed us up for this tournament thinking it would be a bit of fun with other german students, which it was billed as. She was so apologetic. Sheffield chilled right out after that. The other teams still beat us by miles but they weren't arseholes about it.
Just wanted to recount that whole experience really because idk if I wrote about to here at the time. We won the pity/participation trophy and had pints after. It was a good team building exercise for us at least. If it had actually been other german classes it would have been really fun.
When I was a young trans guy, I used to have a huge irrational fear of being hit in the groin and needing to overinflate the pain I felt because I wanted to pass in every scenario. However, now, I think if that ever happened to me, I would just stand there like 😐 so everybody can admire that I am just so tough.
#uni#football#personal#it was called “The Sauerkraut Cup”#the only women there were on our team#the other teams turned up in kit with bags of balls#and we were juat wearing random blue t shirts and trainers. i was wearing a german football shirt because i happened to own one#that was another factor in my deciding to be in goal#the welcome speech was given in german and all the football lads were like “wtf is she saying?”#what a day that was
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Cowboy Yandere! Lane HeadCanons ✧.*
pairing : yandere! lane x fem reader
summary :
authors note : i hope yall enjoy pls lmk
warnings : nsfw, breeding, pregnancy, daddy kink
yandere! lane is a country boy through and through…he eats as much as a prize bull, making him damn near the size of one. Due to his hard labor, he is the perfect blend of muscles and fluff. He is the size kink king.
yandere! lane cannot be convinced to wear a condom or use protection no matter what stage of the relationship y’all are in. He wants a football team of kids and you will have them all.
yandere! lane also won’t wear a condom because the idea of anything separating him from his darling’s insides is infuriating.
yandere! lane is a true dom, he values your pleasure more than anything.
yandere! lane size comes into play when he’s pounding your pussy from behind. He tries to hold himself up and not squish you underneath him but somehow his chest always ends up pressed to your back. His arm around your tummy pulling your smaller body onto his cock as he continues his pounding. You couldn’t escape him if you wanted
yandere! lane never suppresses his guttural moans and groans from you. He doesn’t know how to be quiet but neither do you…
yandere! lane lives by the phrase ‘save a horse ride a cowboy��. When you’re on top of him he’s using his hips and hands to bounce you silly on his dick. Or he’s guiding your hips in just the right back-and-forth motion.
yandere! lane washes his hands of all dirt and grime the second he enters the house, because right after he is going to find you and pick you up for a kiss. “Missed me Dollface? Daddy missed you.”
yandere! lane has rough hard days sometimes. If he’s too tired to fuck you silly he loves to pull you on his lap, lift your legs, and mindless play with and finger your cunt. Your back to his chest his large form looming over you with his chin resting on your shoulder. “Mhm good girl darling, too tired to fuck you properly, but what kind of man would I be if I didn’t pleasure my sweet girl every day?”. He definitely has just gotten off work, still clad in his jeans, hat, boots, and a black t-shirt.
yandere! lane does not like to see you beg. He’s too soft and believes his darling shouldn’t want for anything, he is very willing to give you anything and everything that you want. Especially his mouth on your pussy.
yandere! lane will fuck you any and everywhere if you let him, god do you look so plump and round in a pair of blue jeans, but those long tight skirts are his favorite. The way they look when it’s pooled around your waist as he plows into you in the back of his truck drives him insane.
yandere! lane prefers that you have most or all of your pubic hair, his pussy just looks so cute with its little bush.
yandere! lane will not pull out no matter how hard you beg and squeeze his bicep, what’s the point of cumming, if it’s not in you?
yandere! lane when he finally gets you pregnant is the happiest man on earth, kiss your job bye bye the day you pee on that stick. You often catch him admiring every part of your body. Below your pregnant belly, he watches intently as his dick slides in and out splitting your perfect cunnie in half. Thinking about how it was just like this he bred you the first time.
#fanfiction#y/n#smut#yandere#male yandere#yandere x reader#yandere blurb#yandere insert#yandere x you#yandere oc#yandere imagines#soft yandere#yandere male#yandere x darling#yandere oc x reader#male yandere x reader#tw yandere#fem reader#yandere male x reader#male x reader#masterlist#female reader#x reader#headcanon#yandere smut#Lane
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Shirt
Zećira Mušović x Hardersson!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Zećira manages a miracle
It's a difficult situation to navigate.
For one, it's because the shirt you're currently wrinkling your nose at is a Chelsea one.
Everyone on the team knows of your hatred of Chelsea.
Truly, Zećira just thinks you hate blue. She's known you longer than most others on the team, remembering you as just that tiny little baby who cried when Pernille tried to leave you with Magda at camp.
You're still young, young enough at least to have fairly flexible opinions. Maybe it's not that you hate Chelsea but that you hate the colour blue.
Red is your favourite colour which is why you're attracted to clubs like Arsenal because of the red on their jerseys and rebuke clubs like Chelsea because of the blue.
"Blue is the opposite of red," You've told anyone and everyone on multiple occasions.
So, Zećira puts down your hatred of Chelsea to the fact that London is blue and you'd prefer it to be red instead.
Which is why this situation is delicate.
You stand in front of her, arms crossed over your chest with your little wrinkled nose.
Zećira holds a Chelsea shirt in front of you, waving it teasingly in your face.
"No," You huff," No! No! No! No Not-Wolfsburg!"
"Are you sure? It's got your Morsa's name on it?"
“Morsa’s smelly!” You declare,” And Not-Wolfsburg is bad!”
Zećira laughs, kneeling down at your level. “Work with me here, princesse. You don’t want to wear Magda’s shirt and you don’t want to wear a Chelsea shirt?”
You stick your tongue out. “Don’t like blue!”
“And you won’t wear Magda’s Sweden shirt?”
“Smelly Morsa!”
That’s a new thing you’ve been going through, calling Magda smelly at any and all times that you can. You heard it off Pernille, kind of.
A few weeks ago, Magda left her smelly football socks and boots around the house when she came home from training. Pernille had gone straight to the nursery, to pick you up from one of the few days that you went in so she hadn’t seen it until she got home, tripping over one of the boots and then slipping on the socks.
She’d complained they were smelly and that Magda was smelly after she found out that Magda had gotten straight into bed without washing off all the sweat from the day’s training.
You’d parroted back her words and Magda could now hardly appear in your vision without you calling her smelly.
Zećira sighs, pulling the shirt back.
“You have to wear a jersey if we’re going to train,” She reminds you and you huff.
“I know! A different one!”
This is where Zećira gets a bit crafty with it as she pulls out a second jersey.
It’s a Chelsea one, that’s for sure but it’s very much not blue.
You eye it warily.
“It’s mine,” Zećira says, showing you the back with her name and number.
“It’s Not-Wolfsburg,” You reply bluntly.
“Yeah, it’s Chelsea,” Zećira admits,” But it’s not blue and it’s not smelly Magda’s.” She waves it in your face and you slowly reach out.
You withdraw your hand quickly though and eye Zećira wearily.
“You won’t tell? I’m not a Not-Wolfsburg fan. I don’t want to make Wolfsburg and Arsenal feel bad.”
“I won’t tell,” Zećira promises and you nod, finally taking her shirt.
You pull it over your other t-shirt and Zećira grins.
She’s pretty sure she’s witnessing a miracle, you wearing a Chelsea shirt. She also knows that she can’t tell anyone though because you’ll never forgive her and you’ll never wear any of her shirts again, let alone a Chelsea one.
You pull on your gloves, getting a little stuck with the Velcro but you manage.
You point a finger at her. “Can’t tell,” You insist,” Our secret.”
Zećira smiles, unable to stop herself from teasing. “Are you allowed to keep secrets from your mums?”
You purse your lips.
Technically, you’re not allowed to but it’s a bit like technically you’re not allowed to lie. You’re not allowed to lie but Morsa’s told you before that saying a white lie to save someone’s feelings is okay. Like how you should always tell Momma’s momma that her ugly floral shirt is pretty even though it makes you want to close your eyes and never look at her again.
You think this is kind of similar. Momma and Morsa might get upset if they find out you wore Zećira’s Not-Wolfsburg shirt so willingly. You don’t want to make them sad but you definitely don’t want to wear their Not-Wolfsburg shirts either because you just hate Not-Wolfsburg and everything it stands for. Admittedly, you’re not quite sure what Not-Wolfsburg stands for but you’re pretty sure you won’t like it either way.
“It’s only a little secret,” Is what you settle on telling Zećira,” So it doesn’t really matter.”
Zećira chuckles a little at you audacity but doesn’t argue, merely adjusting your gloves so they fit a bit tighter around your wrists and giving you an antihistamine to take to combat any reaction you’ll have to their latex.
“Alright,” She says as she leads you out of the house and towards the park,” Today, we’re going to work on your catching.”
#woso x reader#zecira musovic x reader#zecira musovic#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso#the big adventures universe
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⋆˚࿔ build-a-fic no. 2 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
➴ chose a scent, an item of clothing and a weather forecast (a number, letter, + creature), and write/request to your heart’s content my dears!
𓂃 ࣪˖ a smell
꒰ 1 ꒱ rich, incensed perfume
꒰ 2 ꒱ burnt coffee
꒰ 3 ꒱ resinous pine needles
꒰ 4 ꒱ steadily-baking bread
꒰ 5 ꒱ inescapably strong disinfectant
꒰ 6 ꒱ expensive, pungent red wine
꒰ 7 ꒱ cheap cologne
꒰ 8 ꒱ salty air rolling off of crashing sea waves
꒰ 9 ꒱ mouth-watering home cooking
꒰ 10 ꒱ a too-strong vanilla candle
꒰ 11 ꒱ fresh-cut, perfectly ripe stone fruits
꒰ 12 ꒱ overpowering tiger balm
꒰ 13 ꒱ smoke unfurling from a wood fire
꒰ 14 ꒱ spiced incense
꒰ 15 ꒱ all-too familiar coconut shampoo
꒰ 16 ꒱ strong herbal lavender
꒰ 17 ꒱ newly turned earth
꒰ 18 ꒱ motor oil
꒰ 19 ꒱ just-washed bedsheets
꒰ 20 ꒱ petrichor after a rainshower
𓂃 ࣪˖ a piece of clothing
꒰ A ꒱ a wrinkled black tie
꒰ B ꒱ mismatched socks
꒰ C ꒱ faded blue jeans
꒰ D ꒱ a hotel bathroom
꒰ E ꒱ a stolen hoodie
꒰ F ꒱ a crisp white button-down
꒰ G ꒱ an expensive, lush fur coat
꒰ H ꒱ a pair of beaten-up combat boots
꒰ I ꒱ plaid pajama pants
꒰ J ꒱ loose-fitting boxer shorts
꒰ K ꒱ a yellow football jersey
꒰ L ꒱ a papery hospital gown
꒰ M ꒱ a blue, lacy thong
꒰ N ꒱ a brown belt with a gold buckle
꒰ O ꒱ cheap swimming garb
꒰ P ꒱ six-inch high heels
꒰ Q ꒱ a dark-red evening gown
꒰ R ꒱ a thick knitted sweater
꒰ S ꒱ a chef’s white coat
꒰ T ꒱ a flimsily-made tourist t-shirt
𓂃 ࣪˖ a weather advisory
꒰ 𓆉 ꒱ hammering, unrelenting rain
꒰ 𓅨 ꒱ warm, golden sunshine
꒰ 𓆣 ꒱ hair-raising rolls of thunder
꒰ 𓃰 ꒱ thick, looming fog
꒰ 𓃗 ꒱ a clear, chilly evening
꒰ 𓃱 ꒱ blazing heat
꒰ 𓃟 ꒱ a nighttime lightning storm
꒰ 𓆟 ꒱ a grey sky laden with rainclouds
꒰ 𓆈 ꒱ cold, drizzly mist
꒰ 𓅫 ꒱ an unexpected snowstorm
꒰ 𓅟 ꒱ bone-chilling sleet
꒰ 𓃵 ꒱ breathless humidity
꒰ 𓃓 ꒱ blustery winds
꒰ 𓆌 ꒱ rain-induced floods
꒰ 𓆏 ꒱ spitting showers of hailstones
꒰ 𓅭 ꒱ a freezing, sudden drop in temperatures
꒰ 𓆗 ꒱ a hurricane warning
꒰ 𓃢 ꒱ a tropical storm
꒰ 𓆧 ꒱ a warm, temperate breeze
꒰ 𓃔 ꒱ road-closing landslides
#a lil more abstract than her predecessor but i hope it’ll still inspire!!! xx#prompts#build a fic prompts#prompt list#writing prompts#writing exercise#rp meme#dialogue prompts#otp prompts#imagine your otp#otp writing#writing games#writing ask games#ask games#drabble meme
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I Just Wanna be Yours
Summer in Westview hasn't officially started until the Rogers throw their annual Memorial Day Beach Bonfire. Now the torch was passed to Y/N Rogers, the local playgirl little sister of the boy next door, Steve Rogers. Your reputation preceded you for most, but you really only had your sights on one person.
One Wanda Maximoff.
TW: Daddy kink, smut, orgasm denial if you squint? Lol
A/N: Not proofread- let me know if you find any big errors :] Enjoy!
Word Count: 9.6K
Memorial Day weekend marks a few things for most. A long weekend, the start of summer break, barbecues, parties, and a day of remembrance. For those who attend Westview High? They circle the calendar for another reason- the annual Roger’s Family Party and Bonfire.
Your older brother Steve had restarted the tradition after finding out that your father threw the same party when he was in high school. Steve had been the All-American, the school’s Football and Baseball team captain. He was every girl’s dream high school sweetheart, kind to all, piercing stare paired with his dusky blue eyes, blonde crew-cut hair, and always clad in blue denim jeans with a t-shirt. His athletic build and confident stature paired with his boyish charm were endearing to all who attended high school with him, earning him the nickname "Captain America".
Now, it was you, in your senior year, carrying the torch that leads the who’s who of Westview High filling the Rogers family beach house for a day of barbecue (courtesy of Steve, equipped in nothing but swim trunks and his Grill Sergeant apron), music, booze, and a traditional bonfire on the beach at dusk. You had branched the family image out. You were the athletic, mysterious bad girl. Leather, ripped jeans, band shirts, tattoos, and piercings were more your speed, a stark departure from your brother’s more traditional appearance. You had recently made the switch from your long, charcoal locks to a short, spiky undercut that displayed more of the tattoos creeping up your neck.
Your upbringing was charmed, the typical "busy" American family with parents who were less than present. Your father was a hedge fund manager, your mother a successful lawyer. Both led busy careers that led them all over the country. You hardly saw them as a result, your nanny was more of a parental figure than your own. Steve was the consummate gentleman, while you ‘played the field’, having slept with most of the female population and moved to the neighboring schools. Even in Steve’s shadow, you were able to maintain a large social group, but never, really let anyone in.
That changed your sophomore year when a certain brunette walked in the front doors for her first day of school. Wanda Maximoff and her brother Pietro were star athletes in their own right. Pietro, the tall, silver-haired goofball was a track star from a rival high school, and stud midfielder on the pitch. Wanda, was a quiet, scholarly type, always in the top rankings in women’s golf and tennis. She was always willing to assist others with their academics, her affinity for science and math making her an asset for many. Her stormy, dark appearance kept most at bay, but she did have a tight-knit group of friends you never seemed to be able to penetrate.
You never seemed to be able to corner the green-eyed woman, wanting just a chance to talk, to get to know her. You were sure that her friends had warned her that all you would try to do was add her name as a notch on your bedpost. But this feeling Wanda gave you, whenever she shot you a shy smile or her viridescent eyes found you in class or at a tennis match, the butterflies and sweaty palms feeling, was beyond what you felt with others. She seems oblivious to the flirting thrown her way, many guys and girls trying to pull back her veil of mystery.
“Hey, sis.” Steve came charging down the stairs, clad in only his swim shorts as he made his way to the fridge, grabbing a protein smoothie from the confines of the fridge.
“Morning,” you mumbled through your mouthful of Lucky Charms.
He rolled his eyes at your antics, polishing off his drink before throwing the bottle in the trash. “What time did you tell everyone? I need to start getting the food ready.”
“12 at the earliest. Open house, people can come and go.” You respond.
"And don't forget about the bonfire. It's going to be a good one." He grinned, nodding in the direction of the backyard. "I've got everything set up. Should be ready to go by nightfall."
"How could I forget?" you fire back, shooting him a megawatt smile.
You glanced at him over your shoulder. His smile was contagious, and it was easy to see why everyone liked him. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy, but you pushed it aside. You had your own life, your friends. You didn't need to compete with him for attention. He winked at you as he turned away, heading out back to fire up the massive grill on the back patio and get it ready for the multitudes of burgers, steaks, bratwurst, and chicken that were about to be strewn across it.
Your thoughts drifted back to Wanda, and you wondered if she'd show up. You hadn't seen her at school yesterday, but you hoped that maybe she had plans to come. It would be a shame if she didn't make it, but you had your things to do, your people to see. You finished off your breakfast, glancing at the clock that read 10:15 am before grabbing your keys and cell phone and heading out the door to pick up the booze, sodas, and ice you needed for today.
Your car, a shiny black Maserati GranTurismo, started on the first try as you backed out of the driveway and made your way down the quiet residential street. The sun was shining, the sky a brilliant blue, and the air smelled of freshly mown grass and the sweet scent of blooming flowers. You hummed along to the radio as you drove, taking a right at the end of the block and heading towards the local liquor store.
The parking lot was mostly empty, save for a few other early birds like yourself stocking up on supplies for their parties. You grabbed a cart and wheeled it over to the back of the store where the beer and soda coolers were. You spent the next few minutes selecting just the right mix of beers and sodas, making sure to get a variety of options for everyone. As you approached the front checkout, the cashier gave you a bright smile.
"This must be for the annual Rogers summer break kick-off,” he quipped, grabbing the scan gun and walking around the counter to begin scanning the items on your flatbed cart.
You grinned, a little embarrassed that the liquor store clerk had recognized your family's party. "Yeah, well... it's going to be a good one," you said, trying to play it cool.
He nodded, glancing up at you with a knowing look. "I'm sure it will. And don't worry, I've been to a few of these parties myself. I know how much work it is to make sure everything goes smoothly. Your family does a great job." His smile was genuine, and it made you feel a little less self-conscious about the attention your family's gatherings sometimes got. "Do you need any ice?"
"Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. I'll take 12 bags, please." You added, reaching into your wallet to pay for the booze and sodas. As the cashier rang everything up, you glanced at the clock on the wall. You still had plenty of time to stop by the grocery store and pick up the rest of the food and supplies you needed.
The drive to the grocery store was uneventful, and you managed to get in and out of there with all your items promptly. As you loaded your car up with bags of chips, dips, and other snacks, your mind drifted to Wanda again. You wondered if Wanda would show up today, and hopefully, you would get the chance to talk to her.
When you finally pulled into your driveway and parked the Maserati in its spot, the yard was already filling up with cars and people were starting to mill about. The smell of charcoal smoke wafted through the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and music. You had to make multiple trips inside, but luckily your best friends Natasha and Maria were already there and helped you carry everything inside.
You had a couple of large coolers set aside for food, so Steve could keep the waiting items cold, and you could keep the typical sides like potato and macaroni salad chilled while the food was cooked. You had 2 coolers of sodas, and 5 coolers of booze to fill, which Nat and Maria quickly took over because they just wanted to throw ice at each other.
Taking the moment before more people started to arrive, you ran upstairs, getting into your black bikini, and black swim shorts and pulling a black tee shirt over your torso. There was no point in shoes, so you padded back downstairs barefoot, and out to the outdoor bar you would be manning.
As you were setting up the bar, more people began to filter in, and soon there was quite the crown milling in and out of the house. As you began making some drinks for a large group of people, you saw Wanda walk up with a couple of her friends, their laughter ringing through the yard. You couldn't help but smile as you watched her, her long brown hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, and a cover-up over her barely there red bikini. She looked stunning, but little did you know that she would be putting on a show today, and you were the sole reason.
You caught her eye as she was making small talk with her friends, and she smiled back at you before walking over to the bar. "Hey, Wanda," you said with a grin, "Glad you could make it."
She returned the smile. "Thanks, I'm glad I did too. I haven’t been able to make the last couple of Rogers Family parties, and this looks like it's going to be a good time." She glanced around, taking in the crowd of people before leaning in closer to you. You gulp as her breasts push up her bikini top, almost taunting you. "So, what can I get from the bar? You've got quite the selection here."
You chuckled. "Well, you've got a variety of beers in the coolers, the proverbial White Claws and seltzers, some sangria in the far tap, and of course, my signature tropical punch." You nodded toward a tap of punch on the counter. "That's my specialty. It's got a bit of a kick to it, but I've had plenty of people tell me they like it." You winked at her, hoping she would take the hint.
Wanda considered your offer for a moment, her eyes lingering on the punch tap. "You know, I think I'll try that. I've never had your punch before, but it sounds delicious." She flashed you a dazzling smile, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest at the compliment. "Thanks, Y/N." You grabbed her cup, poured her a cupful, and slipped some fruit slices into her drink.
"There you go, Wanda," you turn, flashing a charming smile her way before sliding her drink over. "Have fun at the party." You wink again before turning to make some drinks for the group at the other end of the bar. You pretend to not notice the blush creep over her chest and face before she turns and saunters away, making sure to sway her hips to garner your attention.
As the day goes on, the party gets going. People are dancing, laughing, and enjoying themselves. You can't help but steal glances at Wanda now and then, watching as she lets loose and has a good time. She's enjoying your signature punch, and you're glad to see that it's helping her have a good time. Natasha took over for you after a couple of hours at the bar, and you found yourself poolside, laying on a lounge chair talking to one of your teammates from the softball team. Carol nodded at something over your shoulder, causing you to turn and almost spit out your drink.
Wanda was now walking towards you, throwing a towel down on a lounger a few spots from you. She sent you a shy smile, before turning her back and pulling the cover-up off her body. Your mouth went dry as you raked your eyes over her body, her milky-toned thighs and athletic body driving you insane. This is when you were glad for your dark sunglasses, as she bent over, straightening her towel on her chair. You were sure you were flush, as it took all of your willpower to pull your eyes off of her.
Carol smirked at you, slapping your shoulder as Wanda dove into the deep end of the pool.
"Looks like she's enjoying herself," your teammate chuckled.
You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "Yeah, she is." You glanced back at Wanda as she floated on her back in the pool, her long brown hair spread out around her. The water seemed to cling to her skin, revealing every curve of her body. You couldn't help but feel a surge of arousal as the water continued to bead off her body as she swam around, talking to people who were also meandering in the pool.
You looked back at your teammate, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "I didn't realize she was this... attractive." You stammered, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. "I mean, she's always been pretty, but... I dunno."
Carol almost choked on her drink, before looking at you bewildered. "Bullshit, Y/N. You've had a huge crush on her since she started at Westview."
You blushed even deeper at your teammate's words. You couldn't believe you hadn't realized it before. "I-I didn't mean it like that. I just... I've never really thought about her like that." You stammered, not wanting to admit your true feelings.
"Well, maybe it's time you did." Carol grinned, nudging you with her shoulder. "She's single, you're single. You two would be perfect together. And judging by the way she looks at you, I think you may have a better chance than you realize."
You shook your head, feeling even more flustered. "I-I don't know, Carol. She's drunk, she’s just being flirty. She’s made it clear since she started at school that she wasn't interested."
Carol sighed, shaking her head. "Y/N, think about it. Have you ever seen her date someone at school?"
"No...I haven't."
"Exactly." Your friend rolled her eyes. "Well, you should probably make a move before someone else does. She's been single for a while, and I think she deserves someone who appreciates her." She paused, looking over at Wanda, who was currently laughing with some of her friends. "And I think you're the perfect girl for the job. And my god, does she need to be appreciated." she smiles, nodding in Wanda’s direction, causing you to look over and see her on Pietro’s shoulders, playing a game of chicken against Steve, who had Peggy on his shoulders.
You watched as she fought to knock Peggy off Steve's shoulders, her muscles flexing, her intoxicating laughter as the pair fought for bragging rights. Both women soon fell off their partner’s shoulders in tandem, a loud shriek coming from each of them.
Wanda swam to the end of the pool by your chair, pulling herself out, and giving you an up-close view of the water dripping down her body before she made her way over to the lounger that was a few down from you. Your gaze drifted over her body again, before realizing she was watching you watch her.
Her cheeks flushed, and she cleared her throat, trying to play it cool. "So, Y/N," she started, her voice slightly deep from the exhaustion of being in the pool, "I heard you're good at beach volleyball."
You looked over at her, not sure if she was just being friendly or if there was something more to it. You smiled, deciding to go along with it. "Well, I've been playing for a while. It's not that special, though."
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she took a seat on the lounger beside you. "Oh, please. Everyone here says that, but you're really good. I've seen you play volleyball at school a few times now. You're one of the best."
You blushed, looking away from her. "Oh, I dunno about that. There's a lot of other good players too."
She chuckled, leaning in closer to you. "Well, a group of people were gonna start a match down on the beach. Care to join us?"
You hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Carol and the others. They were all busy talking and laughing with each other, and you didn't want to leave your friend alone. But the thought of spending more time with Wanda was too tempting to resist. "Sure," you finally said, standing up. "I'll meet you down there." You winked her way before going up to grab another drink.
As you made your way down to the beach, you couldn't help but feel a little nervous. You hadn't talked to Wanda like this before, outside of the occasional hello or passing comment in class. But the more you thought about it, the more you realized how much you enjoyed her company. She had a way of making you feel comfortable and at ease, even when you were around a group of people.
When you finally reached the beach, you saw Wanda standing near a group of people who were already gathering, clad in their swimwear as another crown began to flank the sides of the makeshift court to watch. She smiled brightly when she saw you approach, and her cheeks flushed slightly as she turned away to hide it. You smirked, setting the small cooler with water and Gatorades off to the side, swapping out your aviator sunglasses for the sports ones you wore out on the water.
You couldn't shake the feeling of someone watching as you played with a volleyball in your hands as you awaited the rest of the people who would be playing. Steve was carrying down a speaker so you had music to play to. Turning ever so slightly, you saw Wanda’s gaze locked on you, rather, your hands, as you threw the ball up and down. Deciding it was time to tease her a little bit back, you threw the ball to the ground and decided it was time to lose the Van Halen tee shirt.
She blushed even harder when she realized what you had done, but she quickly regained her composure, calling out for everyone's attention. "Alright, alright, let's get this game started!" she shouted, clapping her hands together. You pretend to not notice how she bit her lip when your abs made their debut, your tattoo down your side and back on full display.
The game started well, with everyone splitting up into teams. You found yourself on the same team as Wanda, and you couldn't help but feel a little cocky. Having her on your side was the perfect way to bump her around a little bit, to get close to her.
As the game progressed, you and Wanda worked well together, communicating seamlessly and reading each other's movements like a well-oiled machine. Your team began to dominate, and the other players started to take notice. Carol shot you a warning look, but you ignored it, focusing on the game and the girl beside you.
"Alright!" Carol stopped the game, calling an audible. "Nat and Wanda, switch!" she yelled, causing the two teams to moan.
You and Wanda exchanged a look before she shrugged and jogged under the net to switch sides, putting you across from each other. As you took your place on the court, you couldn't help but feel a little bit of nervous excitement. It was one thing to be teammates, but something else entirely to be opponents. You both smiled at each other, the tension between you seeming to grow in the air.
You shot her a sly smile, winking before Nat served the ball over the net.
You both watched the ball as it sailed through the air and then you moved into position, bending your knees as you readied yourself to spike it. The ball came down, and with a powerful swing of your arm, you sent it hurtling toward Wanda's side of the court. She jumped up, meeting the ball at the height of her reach, her fingers just managing to touch it before sending it flying back over the net. The two of you continued to volley back and forth, your movements becoming more fluid and in sync with each other.
The game progressed, and the other players began to fade into the background as you found yourself locked in a battle of wills against Wanda. Every time you sent the ball her way, she seemed to be waiting for it, her reactions sharper than ever. You couldn't help but wonder how much of this was due to the competition between you, and how much was simply her natural talent. Either way, it made for an intense match.
As the tension grew, you saw your opportunity. Wanda had just hit the ball high into the air, and you knew she would have a hard time reaching it. You took a step back, bending your knees, and then exploded forward, leaping into the air. Your hands connected with the ball, sending it flying toward her with all your might. But instead of aiming it at her side of the court, you spike it right at her feet.
"Fuck!" Wanda yells as Carol shoots you a warning glare. You fire a cocky smile back their way, before heading off the court.
She looks furious as you return to the sidelines, her face flushed and her breath coming in ragged gasps. You can't help but feel a little thrill at the power you have over her in this moment. You want nothing more than to see her lose control, to give in to her anger and frustration.
As you watch her compose herself, you can't help but admire her determination. Despite her best efforts to remain calm, you can see the fire in her eyes, the passion that drives her. It's a strange mixture of attraction and intimidation, and you find yourself drawn to it in a way you can't quite explain.
The next game starts, and you and Wanda are once again on opposing teams. This time, though, there's an undercurrent of tension that runs between you. Every time you make a move, she's there, anticipating it, blocking it with ease. It's almost as if she's reading your mind, knowing exactly what you're going to do before you even do it.
Finally, after multiple set matches, your team won the best of 7. Deciding that now was the time to get more to drink, you left the volleyball game in your brother’s capable hands as the guys began to play. You scooped up your shirt and towel, using the shirt to wipe some of the sand and sweat from your body. Now was the perfect time for a dip in the pool.
"Hey, wait up!" Wanda called after you, quickly catching up to your side. "You looked good out there," she admitted, her voice a little less sharp, but laced with a little bit more innuendo than it had been before. "I didn't expect you to be so... competitive."
You smiled over at her, feeling the heat of her gaze on your skin. "I've always been a bit of a natural athlete," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "Besides, it's not like I don’t play sports at school or anything, Wanda."
She pursed her lips, considering this for a moment. "Yeah, but you never really seem so competitive in school," she said, looking away for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "It's... nice to see another side of you." There was an almost wistful quality to her voice that you couldn't quite place.
You shrugged, not sure what to make of her reaction. "Well, I'm just a complex lady, you know? You never can tell what you're going to get with me." You flashed her a cocky grin, trying to lighten the mood. You had reached the pool at this point, so you threw your shirt and towel onto the closest empty chair. "I need to cool off." you smile at her, nodding to the pool.
Wanda smiled back, following your lead. "Yeah, it is pretty hot out here." She hesitated for a moment, then looked around at who was at the pool. As she looked around, you took the distraction as the perfect opportunity to sneak behind her, giving her a gentle push into the deep end of the pool. She let out a shrill shriek as she fell into the crisp water. You jumped in shortly after, wiping the water from your eyes as you surfaced.
"That was cold!" she exclaimed, splashing you playfully. "You asshole." You smiled and swam closer to her, grabbing her around the waist. "But it was worth it, wasn't it?" She struggled against you for a moment, but eventually gave in, relaxing in your grasp. You couldn’t help but feel the butterflies at the skin-on-skin contact, the electricity was palpable. You quickly realized the position you both were in and let Wanda go. She sent you a captivating smile before swimming over to some people who were calling her name. You pulled yourself out of the pool, drying yourself off before heading up to where Steve's best friend Bucky was manning the grill.
"Hey man, what's for lunch?" You asked as you approached him. He grinned, flipping a burger on the grill. "Well, if it isn't the champ herself! You guys just get done playing?"
You nodded, stretching your arms over your head. "Yeah, just now. Tough match." He chuckled, nodding in agreement. "But enough about that. I was asking what's on the menu. You got anything I can help with?"
Bucky smiled, handing you a pair of tongs. "Well, since you asked so nicely, I could use some help with these burgers. But as for the menu, we've got burgers, dogs, and some of that potato salad you brought. Oh, and don't forget the chips and salsa." You took the tongs gratefully, picking up a patty and flipping it over on the grill. The smell of sizzling meat filled the air, making your stomach rumble.
"Sounds good to me," you replied, watching the burger cook. "And thanks for having me, man. This party is shaping up to be a real blast." Bucky smiled, and you nodded his way. You glanced over at Wanda, who was still talking to some of her friends, then back at Bucky.
"Of course, Buck. You're always welcome here, you know. Mom and Dad love you." you smile as he slips a burger onto your dressed bun, and you flip its lid over onto the meat.
The sun beats down on the grass as you take a bite of your burger, feeling the juices dribble down your chin. Wanda finally finishes talking to her friends and makes her way over to you, a towel wrapped around her hips.
"Hey," she says with a smile, "this is quite the party, Y/N. Thanks for putting it on."
"You're welcome, Wands. I'm glad you’re having a good time."
"Could you do me a favor, Y/N?" she asked shyly. You looked at her, a bit taken aback by the sudden request. "Of course, Wanda. What do you need?"
She bit her lip, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. "Well, I was wondering if you could maybe help me with something." You nodded, waiting for her to continue. She held out a bottle of sunscreen, a flush on her features.
"I, uh... forgot to put some on earlier. And now I'm kinda burnt, and it's starting to sting. Do you think you could...?" She trailed off, looking up at you with those big, green eyes.
You couldn't help but smile at her. "Of course, Wanda. Let's go find a spot where we can sit down and take care of that." You lead her over to a nearby table and pull out a couple of chairs. As she sits down, you kneel in front of her and unwrap the towel, revealing her bare hips. Her skin is indeed a light shade of pink, so putting the sunscreen on now would save her a world of hurt later.
"Okay, just lay back and relax, I'll take care of you." You say, as you gently push her back into the chair. She lets out a soft sigh and tilts her head back, exposing her neck and shoulders. You take the bottle of sunscreen from her and unscrew the cap, then begin to rub a generous amount into her skin. You start at her lower back and work your way up, massaging the lotion into her flesh as you go. You pretend not to notice the goosebumps that erupt in the wake of your hands as you rub the lotion into her skin.
As you work your way up her back, you can't help but take in the softness of her skin, the way it feels beneath your fingertips. Her shoulder blades are sharp and defined, and you find yourself tracing them with your fingers, wondering what it would be like to touch her like this under different circumstances. You snap back to reality as you finish rubbing the sunscreen into her shoulders, feeling a bit guilty for letting your mind wander.
"There you go," you say, sitting back on your heels. "All done." Wanda sits up and turns to face you, blushing a deep shade of red. "Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate it." She looks down at the floor, seemingly lost in thought. "I-I guess I should meet up with Agatha and Peggy down at the beach now." She bites her lip, glancing at you from the corner of her eye. She sends you a shy wave before getting up and running to her friends on the beach, jumping onto one of their backs. You continue to watch her from afar as you finish your food.
"Hey, Bucky. You wanna toss the frisbee around with me for a bit?" You ask your friend, trying to distract yourself from the strange feeling in your chest. Bucky nods and stands up, grabbing the frisbee from the table. The two of you make your way over to the beach, joining a group of other guys as you all start tossing the frisbee back and forth. The sun begins to set, painting the sky in a warm, orange glow. You feel your muscles loosen up and your mind begins to wander. A chill begins to set in as Steve gets ready to light the bonfire, and you are sure that a large group of people have left for the day. You glance around, disappointed when you don’t see Wanda. You decide to make your way into the house, heading upstairs to your massive bedroom, so you could change into some sweatpants and a hoodie.
As you're changing, you decide to take a quick shower, washing off the day's sweat and sand. The hot water feels good on your skin, but you can't help but feel a little off. You step out of the shower, drying off quickly and throwing on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. As you're about to step out of your bathroom, you are shocked when you walk into your room and see Wanda on your bed.
"Wanda?" You ask, confused. She looks up at you, her cheeks flushed red and her eyes glistening with mischief. "What are you doing here?"
She grins and shrugs her shoulders. "I-I just wanted to see you." Her voice is soft and hesitant, but there's a newfound confidence in her eyes that you haven't seen before. "I mean... I had fun today, and I didn't want to go home yet. All my friends have already gone home, so I went looking for you."
You're taken aback by her admission. You weren't expecting this at all. "Oh... well, uh... I'm glad you had fun. You can stay if you want." You gesture towards your bed, feeling a bit awkward now. You stand there, shocked at who is currently on your mattress. This is the first time you are unsure of what to do, or to say with an insanely attractive woman in your bed.
Wanda grins and climbs over to the other side of the bed, plopping down on the pillow. "Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate it." She looks around the room, taking in the band posters and trinkets, her eyes landing on your guitar. "So... what do you usually do when you're bored?"
You chuckle and sit down next to her on the bed. "Well, I play guitar sometimes. Or I'll watch a movie, or just hang out with my friends,” you smirk, walking over to the chair by your desk and sitting down backward on it. "But those are just fillers for my favorite pastime."
Wanda tilts her head, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "Oh? What's that?"
You grin, feeling a thrill run through you at the thought of what's next. She fell right into your trap if you want to call it that.
"Well, Wanda..." you eye her up and down, a slight smirk on your face. "I'm hoping it's going to be you."
She blushes deeply, looking away for a moment before meeting your gaze again. There's a newfound fire in her eyes that makes your heart race. “That's quite the line, Y/N," she smirks back. "What makes you think I'm like the other girls who have fallen into your bed?"
You chuckle, shaking your head. "Oh, I don't think you're like them. I mean, I've seen how you are with people. You're sweet and funny, and..." you trail off, looking her up and down once more. "...and you're gorgeous." You stalk over to her, placing your knee in between her legs, and leaning close enough to feel the warmth of her breath on your skin. "But most of all, I think you're honest. And that's something I appreciate. You're not like the others."
She bites her bottom lip, looking into your eyes as she nods slowly. "And what if I wanted to be?" she whispers, a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Well, that would be a shame, Maximoff." you start, as her gaze darts back and forth between your eyes.
"Oh?" she asks, inching closer to you, her lip trapped in between her teeth.
"Yeah. That’s what I like about you. You aren't like anyone else."
You lean in slowly, feeling the warmth of her breath mingle with yours as your lips meet hers. Wanda's mouth is soft and yielding, her tongue dancing against yours in a rhythm that sends shivers down your spine. Her hands slide up your chest, over your shoulders, and around your neck, pulling you closer still.
She moans softly into the kiss, arching her back off the bed and grinding her hips against you. You can feel the heat between your legs, and you're aching to touch her, to feel her skin against yours. Your hands wander down her back, over the curve of her ass, and up underneath her shirt. You can feel the soft skin of her stomach, the warmth of her breasts pressed against your palms.
Her hands slip under your shirt, feeling the muscles in your back, before moving up to cup your neck, her thumbs brushing against your jaw. The sensation sends a shiver through you, and you deepen the kiss, wanting more. Wanda's tongue darts out, teasing your lips before delving back in, their rhythm growing faster and more intense. The tandem you made out on the volleyball court seemed to carry over to the bedroom, as you both responded to each other’s bodies.
When you both needed to come up for air, you pulled away, resting your forehead on hers.
"I've been waiting a while to do that," you whispered, staring at her kiss-swollen lips.
Wanda smiled, tracing a finger along your jaw. "I'm glad you finally did." She leaned in, pressing her lips against yours again, their heat melding together. Her tongue darted out, exploring your mouth as your hands tangled in her hair, holding her close.
The passion between you was palpable, and you could feel it building with each passing second. Her body was pressed tightly against yours, her hips grinding against your erection as she moved in time with your kiss. Your heart raced, and your blood pounded in your ears, drowning out everything else. You had all but forgotten the party downstairs as you pushed Wanda's bikini-clad body further onto your bed.
The arousal was obvious as you caught a glimpse of the darker spot on her bikini bottom, and the glimmer that coated the inside of her creamy thighs. You groaned as you hovered over her, trapping her beneath your body weight.
"Oh, I like you like this," you breathed, as she arched her back upwards, pressing her chest against yours.
She tugged at your hoodie as her blown pupils found yours. "For someone who has been waiting for this for so long, you sure do have a lot of clothes on."
Your heart skipped a beat as her words sent a thrill through you. You leaned down, kissing her neck, and her collarbone, before moving back up to capture her lips once more. The taste of her, the feel of her skin, was intoxicating. You could feel the heat between your legs, and the need to be inside her growing more urgent with every passing second.
With a groan, you peeled off your hoodie, and then your bra, tossing them to the floor before pushing her bikini bottoms down her hips, revealing her smooth, toned legs. She gasped as you parted her legs, laying yourself between them. You ground your hip upwards into hers, allowing her to feel the strap-on that was hidden under your sweatpants.
Her eyes went wide, and she arched her back off the bed, her hands clawing at your shoulders. "You've got a strap-on?" she breathed. You laughed, pecking at the side of her neck, up to her ear.
"Daddy is always packing, baby," you whisper in her ear, licking the shell.
Wanda shudders, her breath catching in her throat. She reaches down between your bodies, feeling the thick length of the strap-on, her fingers wrapping around the base. "Oh, God," she moans, grasping at the waistband of your sweats, trying to get them off as quickly as she could in her state.
Her movements only serve to further arouse you, and you lean in, nipping at her collarbone as you watch her fingers fumble with your clothes. You help her out, yanking your sweats down your legs, revealing the hard cock beneath. She gasps, her eyes going wide with desire as she takes in the sight of you.
"Fuck, Y/N," she breathes as you push her thighs further apart and position yourself between her legs. You grasp the base of the strap-on, guiding it to her entrance, you can practically feel the heat and wetness of her waiting for you. She arches her back, lifting her hips off the bed, practically begging you to enter her. With a groan, you push forward, watching the head of your cock slip inside her.
Her muscles grip you tightly, her walls milking you as you begin to thrust slowly, feeling her body stretch to accommodate your size. You look down at her, at the way her eyes are closed and her lips parted, her skin flushed and damp with sweat. You reach down between them, teasing her clit with your thumb, feeling her tense and shudder beneath you.
"Fuck, Y/N," she moans, arching her back and meeting your thrusts with her own. "So big... so good..." Her fingernails scrape down your back, leaving trails of pleasure-tinged pain as you continue to pound into her. She's so wet, so ready for you, and you can't help but lose yourself in the sensation of her greedy pussy swallowing the toy before you, her vanilla perfume mixed with sweat and the smell of the sunscreen you applied earlier invading your senses, and her whimpering, whiny sounds as you mercilessly thrust the dildo into her.
Her hips rise off the bed, her breasts heaving as she pushes herself up towards you, her expression a mix of ecstasy and agony. You can feel the tension building inside her, the telltale tightening of her muscles as she nears her peak. You slow your thrusts, savoring the feel of her body moving against yours, her body milking the cock attached to your hips with each slow, deliberate push.
"Ask for permission to cum, baby." you kiss the valley between her supple breasts, her hands running through your hair.
"Y-yes, Daddy," she stammers, her hips undulating against yours, her eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy. "I want to cum so badly..."
"Aww, baby," you tweak her nipple between your fingers, causing her to clamp her eyes shut and a pornographic moan to come from her. "You can do better than that for Daddy."
Her breath comes out in ragged gasps as you continue your slow, steady rhythm, your hips moving in perfect synchronization with hers. Her hands grasp at the sheets, her nails digging into the fabric as she fights to keep herself grounded. "I'm close, Daddy," she whimpers, her body starting to tremble beneath yours. "Please..."
"Please, what?"
Wanda's eyes snap open, her pupils dilated as she looks up at you with a pleading expression. "Please let me cum, Daddy. Please let me feel you inside me." Her voice is ragged, her body shaking with the effort of holding back. You can feel her muscles tense and release, her pussy clenching, her breath hot against your skin.
You look down at her, taking in her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, and the way her breasts heave with each ragged breath. "You're doing so good, baby," you whisper. "Just a little bit longer for me, okay?"
Her eyes closed, her head falling back against the pillow in submission. "Please Daddy," she whimpers, her body arching upward in surrender. She holding on to everything she has, you can tell she is fighting for her release.
"Fucking beg, Wanda. Let me know how close you are."
Her eyes snap open, her pupils dilated, and her expression a mix of pain and ecstasy. "I'm so close, Daddy! I need you to make me cum! Please, Daddy, let me cum!" she whimpers and moans, burying her face into your neck as her nails rake down your back, leaving trails of fire behind them.
Her hips buck up against yours, her inner muscles gripping you tightly, her body tense with the effort of holding back. Her breath comes out in short, ragged gasps, her chest heaving with each one. You can feel the tension building inside her, the anticipation coiling tighter and tighter.
"Let go for me beautiful, let me see how I make you feel."
You watch as Wanda's eyes close, her head falling back against the pillow, her lips parting as she takes in a deep, shuddering breath. Her body tenses, every muscle in her abdomen tensing as she lets go. Her fingernails dig into your back, her hips undulating against yours, stuttering as her orgasm rips through her body.
"Oh, Y/N!" she screams, her voice muffled by your shoulder. "I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" Her inner muscles squeeze you tightly, her pussy milking your fake cock as her pleasure washes over her in waves. Her body arches upward, her breasts spilling from your grasp, her nipples hard and aching for your touch. Her eyes flutter open, looking up at you with a mixture of shock and ecstasy.
"That's it, baby," you whisper, your voice rough with desire. "Let it all out for me." Her hips buck wildly against yours, her nails raking down your back, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tries to catch her breath. Her orgasm seems to go on forever, her body shuddering with pleasure as she clings to you, her lips parting in a silent moan.
Her pussy grips you tightly, her inner walls fluttering around your fake cock as she comes down from her peak. You watch in awe as her features soften, her eyes flutter shut and her breathing begins to steady. Her body is still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure, her nipples hard and aching for your touch. You brush your fingers over them, circling and teasing as you continue to thrust slowly inside her.
"That's it, baby. Just relax and enjoy." You whisper, your voice gentle and soothing. Her body responds to your touch, her hips moving in time with yours as she leans into the sensation. Her eyes open lazily, meeting yours with a look of contentment and gratitude.
"Oh...my...god, Y/N," she started, her breathy, husky voice making you swoon. Her body trembled beneath yours as she reveled in the afterglow of her orgasm. Her pussy clenched tightly around your fake cock, her inner walls milking you with each gentle thrust. Her eyes were half-lidded, gazing up at you with a look of pure adoration and desire. Her eyes widened as you lowered yourself down her body, the realization of what you were about to do hitting her. "Y/N, honey I don't think I can..."
"Shhhh, Wands, I've got you. Don't think. You have one more for me, I know you do."
Your words seem to have the desired effect as her body tenses, her breath catches in her throat. Her eyes closed, her expression one of concentration and determination. You gently blow a burst of air to her sodden sex, before nudging her perky clit with your nose.
"Oh fuck, Daddy!" she groans, arching her back as her hips buck wildly against your face. Her hands grab fistfuls of your hair, urging you closer, wanting more. Her inner muscles clench and release around nothing as you kiss around her lower lips. Once you dive into her, you plunge two fingers into her as you lick at her swollen clit. You alternate between lapping at her juices, sucking on her swollen clit, and twisting your fingers around to hit the spongy spot inside her, determined to make her cum harder than ever before.
Her legs tremble beneath her, her toes curl as her orgasm builds quickly. She cries out your name, her voice hoarse and desperate. Her body quakes as she holds her orgasm back. You can feel her pussy clenching tightly around your fingers and tongue as her inner walls spasm uncontrollably, her muscles relaxing and tensing in perfect rhythm with your ministrations.
Finally, with a long, drawn-out moan, she arches her back, her hands gripping your hair, her hips bucking wildly against your face. Her orgasm ripples through her, shuddering through her body as her inner muscles squeeze and release around you. Her juices coat your tongue and flow down your throat as you drink in her ecstasy. Her legs tremble, her breath comes in ragged gasps, and her eyes roll back in her head. Her legs locked you between them, and you swore that you could die then and there, and be happy.
Slowly, you pull back, watching her eyes as they refocus on you. She looks dazed, her lips swollen from your kisses and her cheeks flushed from her exertions. She reaches out, trailing her fingers down your chest, over your abs and lower, until she cups your sex that was surely dripping down your thighs. You had dreamt of this moment, of when Wanda Maximoff would end up here, and now, you wanted nothing more than to keep her here forever.
You fell next to her, a sweaty and panting mess, as she rolled over on top of you. "I am so glad I showered," you laugh, looking into her adoring eyes.
"Must be nice," she laughed, as your eyes drifted over her body once more, her breasts hanging before you as she hovered over your body. She sat back, resting on your lower abdomen, shrieking as the dildo still attached to your hips poked her ass.
"Well, now I think I need another," you laugh as you prop yourself up, pecking at her lips as her arms wrapped behind your neck.
"Yeah you do, Y/N," she smiled her million-dollar smile. "But, this time I think you should invite someone to join you."
You raise your eyebrow, gazing into the pools of sea green before you. "Oh really? Maybe I'll invite Nat. She said she needed her monthly shower."
Wanda giggles, shaking her head. "You're an ass, Y/N."
You feign offense, gasping as you rest a hand on your chest. "Wanda! Is that what you think of me?"
She laughs, shaking her head. "No, idiot. You should invite someone else. Like me. I could use a shower." she leans forward, tracing her finger between your breasts before looking back up at you, her lip caught in her teeth again.
"You keep doing that, Wanda, you're going to lose your lip," you pull it out from her teeth, before leaning in and kissing her gently and passionately. Your hands slid to her back, pulling her closer to you. She moaned into the kiss, grinding herself down onto your lap, causing you to moan when she pushed the toy into you. You shuffled her and yourself over to the edge of the bed, without breaking the kiss.
As your lips finally parted, you gazed into her eyes, seeing the lust and desire there, and knew that she wanted this as much as you did. "Well, if you insist, darling," you grinned, leaning in and taking her nipple into your mouth, sucking on it roughly. Her back arched, a quiet moan escaping her throat. "But I'm going to need you to be good."
She smiled down at you, her hands running through her hair, flinging it to one side. "Oh, Y/N," she sighed, "I'm always good." With that, she lowered herself down, taking the dildo back into her warmth, moaning at the intrusion. You groaned at the sight, watching as she began to rock her hips back and forth.
Her breasts swayed with each movement, her nipples hard and pebbled. She leaned forward, her hands on either side of your head, her hips moving faster as she began to ride you. Her skin was hot against yours, and the scent of her arousal filled the air.
"Fuck, Wanda," you rolled your head back at the feeling of her rocking against you, but her hands ran up the back of your neck and into your hair, guiding you back to her.
"C'mon, Daddy. Take me to the shower," she smirked, knowing that this was going to be a challenge. You firmly grasped her ass, stilling her motions as you lifted her till the toy was almost fully removed, before slamming her back down onto it. You smirk at the moan that left her, as you wrapped her legs around you, standing up to walk to the bathroom.
The cool air of the bathroom hits you both as you make your way to the shower, Wanda's nails dragging down your back as she holds on tight. You can feel her dripping down the front of you, her arousal making a mess of you. You step into your shower, slamming her against the wall and thrusting into her.
She gasps, her head thrown back as you take her roughly. Her hands slide up your chest, over your shoulders, and into your hair, tugging you down so that you're looking her in the eye. She leans forward, their lips just inches apart, her breath hot against your skin. "I'm going to come, Y/N," she whispers, her hips bucking against you.
"Fuck, Wanda," you gasp as you roughly fuck her against the cool tile wall. "You drive me insane."
She whimpers, arching her back as she comes, her legs wrapping tighter around you, her nails digging into your shoulders. Her inner walls clench around you, milking your cock, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body. Her lips part, and she gasps, her breath ragged as she tries to catch it. Her eyes close, her head thrown back against the wall as she comes down from her orgasm.
"Fuck," you groan, thrusting one final time into her, your release taking over. You grip her ass, feeling her walls clench around the toy as your orgasm drips down your thighs.
She sighs, her body still pressed against yours as she comes down from her high. You lean against the wall, watching her as she runs her hands through her hair, looking somewhat dazed.
"Well," you say with a smile, "That wasn't how I anticipated today going," You reach over and turn on the shower, letting the water wash over your bodies, helping to cool you down.
You can feel Wanda leaning against you, her breath still ragged from their exertions. "Yeah," she says softly, "I think... I think we both needed that." She presses her body closer to yours, their skin slick with sweat and sex.
You let the water rinse away the sweat and your cum, the heat from the spray adding another layer of sensation to your already overloaded senses. You idly run your fingers through the water, tracing patterns on her back, feeling the play of muscle beneath your touch.
Wanda leans in, pressing her lips to yours, her tongue darting out to greet yours, her hands slipping beneath the water to cup your ass. You moan into her mouth, feeling her strength and her desire pressing against you, the wet heat of her body. She breaks the kiss, breathlessly, her chest heaving as she looks into your eyes.
"I think we need to get down to the bonfire before Steve or Pietro come looking for us," Wanda laughs.
"You think they'd care?" you ask with a grin, as you step out of the shower and help her dry off.
Wanda laughs, shaking her head. "Probably not. But we don't want to give them an excuse to tease us, do we?" She winks, slipping on one of your loose tank tops and a pair of sweatpants. You nod in agreement, pulling on a clean pair of sweatpants and your hoodie.
"Y/N?"
You turn to face Wanda, who is leaning against the door frame of the bathroom, her expression a mix of mischief and concern. Her hair is still damp from their shower, and you can't help but smile as you take in her beauty. You swoon at the sight of her damp hair and her wearing your clothes.
"What's wrong, Max?"
Her expression softens at your use of her nickname. "Nothing, just... I don't want to go back out there and pretend that nothing happened, you know? I just want to stay with you."
You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Me too."
Taking her hand, you lead her back out through the house, watching the shocked gazes of those who remain. You wind through the sea of people, walking down the timber steps and out to the beach. The bonfire crackles and spits, casting flickering shadows across the group of people gathered around it. You can see Steve and Pietro laughing together, sharing a drink. They look up as you approach, their expressions changing from amusement to surprise as they see Wanda's damp hair, and her wearing your clothes.
"You two been having fun?" Steve asks, the humor lacing his voice.
Wanda laughs, shrugging. "You know, just us." She leans into you, resting her head on your shoulder. You wrap an arm around her, feeling the warmth of her body through your thin sweatshirt.
Steve grins. "Well, you two should get back out there. I'm sure there's plenty of people who'd love to party with you." He winks, and you can't help but chuckle. Pietro sends you a warning glare.
"Y/N, if you hurt her, I swear..." he growls, as Wanda blushes before burying her face in your chest.
You laugh, ruffling his hair affectionately. "Don't worry, Pietro." As you say this, you glance down at Wanda, feeling a pang in your chest at the thought of her being hurt. It's been so long since you've felt this way about someone. You've been alone for so long, just surviving day by day, that the idea of losing her... it terrifies you. "I may have a reputation," you continue. "but Wanda is the last one that I would do that to."
Wanda looks up at you, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She grabs your hand, squeezing it. "Thank you, Y/N." Her voice is barely a whisper.
Pietro nods, seeming satisfied for now. "Alright, you two. Have fun." He slaps your shoulder, then takes another beer from the cooler before heading back into the crowd.
You lead Wanda back towards the fire, feeling the warmth of it on your skin. She leans into you, her body pressed against yours as if she's afraid to let go. You wrap your arms around her, holding her close. The music starts up again, and the party seems to find its rhythm once more.
#communicatethrulyrics#wlw fanfic#lesbian nsft#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wanda fanfic#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda maximoff#elizabeth olsen x you#elizabeth olsen x fem!reader#elizabeth olsen x reader#elizabeth olsen x female reader#elizabeth olsen
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the realistic aftermath of ghost catching the handy in the back alley with best friend!johnny…a few weeks later
“ugh johnny, get off.” you tried pushing against him but he was deadweight, 200+ pounds of muscle at the mercy of many, many alcoholic drinks. “fhehnihernr.” you rolled your eyes. “i don’t know what you’re saying.” instead of answering, he wrapped his arms tighter around your waist, pulling you into him by your stomach. “miss? did you need some help? or another drink?” you laid your hand on top of johnny’s and he growled in approval. “two waters, please.” the bartender nodded and turned around to grab the cups. “wanna be closer t’ ye, leannen.” you chuckled in spite of yourself. “can’t get much closer than you are now.” to save him from responding, the bartender placed down your waters and you took them, nodding your thanks. “drink up, come on.” you pushed the water cup toward him, ignoring his messy mohawk and gleaming blue eyes. how even shitfaced, your best friend was too handsome and flirtatious for his own good. “let’s go back to gaz.”
johnny slid into the booth first, wrapping an arm around gaz’s shoulder. “gazzy!” you snorted, attempting to slide in after johnny. he halted your plans by dragging you into his lap, losing no strength even with his lack of sobriety. instead of protesting, you laid back on johnny’s chest, mouthing “sorry”to gaz. gaz shook his head, opting to answer with a sip of his beer. “you’re lucky cap isn’t here.” johnny had finished the water cup, slamming it down on the table. you leaned forward, ignoring his growl at the movement, and placed the second cup in his waiting hands. he chugged it, muscled throat pumping at the exertion. you overted your eyes, wisely placing your gaze on the football game on the tv. “why’s that?” thankfully, johnny sounded more sober now, the slurring at a minimum. “‘cause you two are disgusting.” you shot him an affronted look. “i’m not doing anything!” gaz pushed at your shoulder, causing you to tilt, until johnny righted you in his lap, grip growing tighter. “soap’s annoyin’ but he knows how to take a woman’s no for an answer. you jus’ never tell him no.” hmph. he did have you there. instead of forcing you to answer, johnny rested his chin your shoulder, drawing the blame back on him. “think yer jealous ‘cause i hav’ a new favorite sergeant. she’s a wee more bonnie than you, gazzy.” he placed down the second water cup, sounding s bit more sober now. “well ‘ve got 100 quid on you tossers so don’t fuck it up.” instead of letting you answer, johnny pushed you off his lap and out of the booth, murmuring something about going to the dance floor.
and now you were here, arms wrapped around johnny as you danced way too slowly to the 80s rock crooning out of the pub speakers. the tension was calmer now, the drinks in your system finally hitting, putting you at an equal level with johnny’s slowly sobering brain. he rocks you gently, strong arms keeping you steady as your fingers skim his triceps, defined even under his shirt. his fingers splay against your waist, brushing the top of your ass as you sway off beat. gaz’s words swam through your mind, coupled with the looks ghost had been giving you since he caught you two in the alley. he hadn’t told anyone, hence the bet gaz mentioned, but youve felt the silent questions coming off of him every time you entered the room. johnny feels you tense in his arms, too intuned with all your movements. “ask me, lass.” you swallowed at the low gravel of his voice, accent deeper in your ear. “are- are we doing something wrong? i dunno, johnny, it was all fine before anyone said anything and now-“ he stops you with a pinch to your hip. “‘s a pile of shite, bon. unless,” he pulls back slightly, grasping your chin to force you to meet his eyes. “tell me to stop.” you shake your head immediately, noting the smile on his face. “don’t stop. i like being close to you, anyway i can. even with the blurry lines.” he tucks you back against his chest, grip finally relaxing. “no lines, jus’ us.”
#soap calls gaz gazzy when he’s drunk i don’t make the rules#tornadothoughts#fluff#john soap mactavish#soap#soap mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish x f!reader#johnny soap mactavish#johnny mactavish#johnny soap mactavish x reader#john mactavish x reader#john mactavish x you#soap x reader#soap call of duty#soap cod
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American Tourist
I sit near the start of the hike, waiting for my tour guide. It takes a while, but finally an older man comes out of a small hut and greets me.
"Hello, are you Markus?" The man asks.
"Yes, I'm here for the tour." I reply, getting up to shake his hand.
"Well let's get started." He says as he leads to the head of the trail.
The tour starts fairly normal. The man just points out small things along the trail like plants and wildlife. But he started to sprinkle in some small talk as well.
"It is not often we have Americans come on this tour." The man says.
The comment confuses me, as I'm from London and have a very obviously non American accent.
"Oh I'm from London, not America." I correct him.
"I must be confused, the big men like you tend to be from America." He replies.
I take it as a compliment, that he's calling me strong, but it still strikes me as odd.
"It must be cold back in America, for you to be wearing shorts and a button up in this weather." The man continues.
Again with the 'America' stuff, I don't know why he keeps insisting on this. Also I'm wearing a t shirt and jeans, I don't know why he said that. But I'm shocked when I look down and see that in wearing khaki shorts and a blue button up. I could have sworn I was wearing jeans, but I guess I was wrong.
"Ya, it is..." I just lead the man along, hoping he'll let it go.
"I hope you brought some sunscreen. Americans with light complexion like you tend to burn easily." He continues.
I don't know what he's on about this time, I literally have darker skin than him. And it's definitely not sunny enough today to burn me. I look down at my arms to see if I'm burnt, maybe that's why he made the comment. Though when I look down, I see white skin. What!? My arms, my legs, they're white. I pull out my phone and look at myself in the camera, my face is white and my hair has become straight. I should be more shocked, but the more I think about the more comfortable I am. This is how I've always looked, right?
"I'm shocked you're keeping up this well." The tour guide continues.
"What do you mean?" I ask, nearly out of breath. He just complimented how big I was, and now he's questioning my athleticism.
"Well Americans like you tend to think they can do a trail like this, but then have to stop half way through." He says as he slaps my stomach.
What does he mean by Americans like me? And why did he slap my stomach? I look down and see my previously flat stomach grow rounder and rounder. My button up stretches further and further as my stomach grows into a soft beer belly. My solid pecs also soften into a pair of moobs. I even feel my shorts tighten around my ass. I try to rearrange my dick to make my bulge less noticeable, but these shorts are way too small.
"Don't you worry my friend, I did football in college. Don't let this tank fool ya, I'm sure I can keep up just fine." I reply in a thick southern accent, still out of breath. I start to unbutton my shirt, hoping to beat the heat.
"I still don't know how you Americans can grow so much hair, it's like a forest in there." The man questions, pointing at my chest.
I look down at the thick pelt of hair covering my chest as I scratch my thick beard.
"Us American men, we've got plenty of testosterone. Makes us the men we are." I reply in a surprisingly deep voice.
"Look, we've made it to the top. You should be glad, not many people your age make it all the way up." The man congratulates me.
I don't know what he means by that comment, but I'm not that old. Besides I barely broke a sweat, I'm an athlete after all.
#male tf#masculine#fat tf#hairy#reality change#male wg#muscle tf#male transformation#age progression#race change
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WINNING STREAK 18+
Pairing: Quarterback!Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader
Warnings: ᴘʀᴀɪꜱᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ᴘɪᴠ, ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ, ᴏᴠᴇʀꜱᴛɪᴍᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ,ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀᴅᴜʟᴛ ᴛᴏʏ ᴏɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴᴀʀʏ, ʀɪᴅɪɴɢ, oral ꜱ*x ᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ꜰᴏᴏᴛʙᴀʟʟ ᴊᴇʀꜱᴇʏ, ᴅᴏɢɢʏꜱᴛʏʟᴇ, ᴀɴ*ʟ ᴘʟᴀʏ.
A/N: I think that covers everything. Oh yeah, and fluff, and a lot of horny thoughts. Inspired by a real-life event. Watched the Bengals vs. the Giants this week. I'm really proud of how the bengals went. Anyway, I hope you like it. I obviously do not own Joe Burrow and Ja'marr Chase, just written a fictionalised version, I guess. Images and gifs are not mine, and Bengals team name.
It was a nice sunny day, accompanied with a cool breeze, the start of spring had brought beautiful flowers and luscious green grass.
That could be evidently seen on the very green football field, your husband Steve was running on. It's week six of the football season. Today's Sunday game is Cincinnati Bengals versus Oakhill Stingrays.
You watched as he manoeuvred and dodged incoming defences on the opposite team.
He sprinted as fast as his body could allow him to, muscles straining and sweat building in his helmet.
He didn't care about the burn, he only cared about scoring that winning goal for his team. He’d worry about sore muscles later.
Coach Fury, crouched from the sidelines, nervousness written over his face, Joe Burrow and Ja'marr Chase were following closely behind him but they were no match for Steve.
Those of the team who weren’t playing watched along cheering your husband along. You were in the VIP section, watching along with Natasha and Mrs Fury.
You cheered as loud as you could, much quieter than your cheerleading days.
You didn’t want to strain your voice too much. Your shout of Steve’s name caught his attention for a brief second.
His stark blue eyes landed on yours. He blew you a kiss, and winked at you, mouthing “ this one's for you baby”.
You caught it and blew a kiss back to him. He grinned, he continued running, finally reaching the goal and scoring a touchdown. Just as the last quarter, sealing the fate of Brooklyn Panthers.
They’d won the game. Sam and Bucky joined Steve as they celebrated, a bunch of others ran up and carried Steve.
The sports announcer and journalists worked overtime, trying to capture Steve, for an interview.
Soon he got roped into post game interviews. You waited in the area reserved for family members and friends of players.
You had a giant bouquet of flowers that you wanted to give Steve, along with his favourite brooklyn donuts, his favourite being the cookies and cream cheesecake flavour.
They had become your favourite as of recently. You were very proud of him. So you thought they were the perfect gift for him.
He’s worked so hard the past few months, early mornings, strict diet and regimen. He also had been away from home for a couple weeks.
But he always made sure to call you and send you text messages, telling you about his activities throughout the day. Something you found adorable, you returned the calls and daily updates as well.
Since it was a home game, you’d had plans for tonight, something cute and chill. You’d go to the diner that Steve took you on, on your very first date, in the eleventh grade. Go to the beach later if you have time to and spend the night catching up on anything and everything.
You’d missed his company so much, the calls nor face times weren’t enough most days.
When you were able to, you did fly to his away games. Tonight you wanted to hug, cuddle him, everything really, and lucky last you really wanted to have sex with him.
Whether slow or rough would be determined by how Steve’s muscles were. You don't mind either, you just wanted that intimate connection.
You catch Steve coming out, duffle bag swung over his shoulders, he had a nice pair of jeans, Nike Jordan's and a fitted navy blue t-shirt that stretched over his muscles.
He fixed the chain that you'd bought for him on his birthday last month. He caught you oghling him and Steve grinned like a Cheshire cat.
You squealed as he approached, he was engulfed in big. You melted into him, loving his warmth and fresh shower smell and the mens gucci perfume he wore. He smelled divine, so manly.
He pulled back and captured your lips with his. At first the kiss was light then he deepened it, its full passion and filled with hunger. The sensation sent heat rushing to your core and you could feel your core pulse.
The emptiness was real. But you knew you had to wait a while. You loved a slow burn. Letting the pent up tension build it made for a perfect release.
One where you hoped, you'd be filled with your husband's cock, in any of your favourite positions. You pulled away to catch your breath.
You were sure you'd captured the attention of others. You sure had, you found Bucky and Natasha eyes wide. Coach Fury and Mrs Fury only smiled then quickly returned to their conversation.
“Hey honey, great game”.
“Thank you, I had the best cheerleader out there. Your cheers meant a lot of love”.
“no problem, here I bought you some sunflowers and your fave donuts.i have a few activities planned for us”.
“Thank you, sweetheart, can't wait to plant these. And devour these donuts and you later”.
Steve gave you once over eyes dilated, lust filled them. You looked away blushing. Steve had a way with words, it was a lot sometimes but you liked it.
“I'll hold you to that common lets go”.
The sun had now set, the last remaining light illuminated your living room in pink, yellow and orange. You and Steve were playing a game of twister. You took turns to see who lasted on the mat longer.
Steve was in grey sweats and a white t-shirt. You were dressed in the first football jersey the team had given him and sport shorts. They were Steve's favourites because they really accentuate the round of your ass and curves.
“Okay Steve I don't I can hold on much longer”. You dropped onto the mat because your right arm had given in. You massaged it.
“you're on a winning streak today Steve”.
“I am, I think it's time I get my reward”.
“Is that so?”.
“Uh huh”.
“I'll be happy to facilitate that”.
Excited Steve worked fast to pack away the twister mat and other board games. He bought pillows, blankets, towels, your dildo and blueberry flavoured lube. That you used when changing locations of where you had sex around the house, when comfort was needed.
_____________
“Legs spread wider sweetheart. Hold them up for me, yeah just like that.
You did as Steve asked, you were in nothing but his football jersey, and your pussy bare for him. He kisses along your thighs, and places soft bites. He trails down landing right at your entrance.
“Such a pretty pussy”.
He works his tongue through your slit, tantalisingly slow. You jerk you to get more friction, Steve moves hands to hold you down on you abdomen.
“patience sweetheart, we just started”.
“quit teasing”.
“like you haven't been teasing me all week with photos you've sent me”.
“fair, but still. Please Stevie I need more”. You rasped, kneading your hand through his beautiful hair.
“Nope, not after all the cold showers I've had to take”. Steve shakes his head as he continues, working his tongue inside your core and through your slit.
You moan at the sensation of his warm tongue. In pushing in and out, then did you do justice by adding two thick fingers, it was a little uncomfortable but soon you welcomed the stretching.
Steve moved his long fingers in a nice rhythm, he curled his fingers inside of you and worked his thumb on your clit.
It was a little too much, you were now panting, and moaning wantonly. Embarrassed, you took a pillow and covered your face.
“Uh Uh, let me hear those pretty sounds”. Steve took the pillow and threw it far from your reach, he even threw the other ones as a precaution. The only one left is the one your head is resting on.
“it's embarrassing”.
“it's not at all, I think it's a good sign, I love your moans, it lets me know if I'm doing a good job”. Steve adds a third finger and picks up his pace.
Your legs started to shake. You can't hold your legs up for much longer, Steve realises so he holds them for you with his forearm.
The last curl of Steve fingers of your gspot pushes you to the edge. You moan out loud, Steve then manoeuvres to get more comfortable and starts sucking on your clit.
You pushed him away, it was all too much. Given you were still riding on the wave of your first orgasm of the night.
“Your turn, Stevie”. Steve quickly takes off his clothes and boxers. He cock springs free, hitting his lower abdomen and lightly coating his happy trail in his precum.
“I want to try something, I loved the video that you sent of you riding your dildo, and it gave me a few ideas”.
Steve, took a small block and pressed your 6 inch dildo down, so that it could stand on something. It was a complete replica of Steve's cock that he'd gotten made for you.
It was a fun 1 year anniversary gift.
“I want you to ride that, as you suck me off”.
“Okay”.
You were kinda excited, the double pleasure you were about to experience. Steve pulled the special chair that you guys used for sex and he sat down.
Steve added, lube for you, you lowered yourself on the dildo. Then move your attention to his dick.
You lick it from base to tip, then the reverse. Your other hand massages his balls and thighs. You opened your mouth, and took him as far as you could fit inside your mouth.
Then you bobbed your head up and down, slightly gagging on his dick a little. Steve's deep grunts and growls, encouraged you.
“Keep up the pace, just like that honey. Doing so good”. He whined, you shifted your eyes to his. You held eye contact as you sucked him off.
Steve held your braided ponytail, but he still let you control the pace. A few curls that had been gelled back when now loose. You didn't mind, because Steve loved when you were a mess for him.
"My good girl, doing such a good job. Almost there dove, almost there.". Steve pants. His voice breaks a bit towards the end. “You look so sexy bouncing on your dildo like that, keep going. I watched your video an embarrassing amount of times and I came so much each time. I imagined you swallowing it all”.
“you gonna swallow it all like a good girl?”.
“Yes Stevie”. You answered and placed your mouth back on him.
You could tell that he was about to cum soon. His hand usually held your hair tighter, slightly pulling. His cock twitches in your mouth and his breathing becomes deep and slow.
You move your head to look up at him. You loved the look on his face. He was dazed, blue eyes dialated, sweat on his face, cheeks flushed pink and mouth open.
Eventually spurts of cum fill your mouth and you swallow every single drop. With the pop of your mouth, you move to the tip of his dick over your nipples.
Steve assessed you slowly you as he also kneaded and massaged your boobs.
“take off the jersey”. You did as he asked. You handed him the jersey. “face down and ass up, hands behind your back.
Steve tied the shirt making it into a makeshift blind fold. Since you couldn't see.
Steve helped move you into position.
Then once you find a comfortable position, you put your hands behind you. You were completely relying on your other senses.
The sound of a slap to your ass fills the air. It stings, but then Steve massages it replacing the previous sensation with pleasure.
Steve then takes the lube and adds a few drops between your cheeks. It's cold on your skin, it gives you goosebumps
You feel the tip of Steve’s cock at your entrance. He pushes inside you, just the tip. He pumps inside just a little pushing further he teases like that then, finally is buried inside you to the hilt. He's much deeper in this position, Steve starts pumping his hips, at a fast pace.
“Steve, I can't take it”.
“Yes, you can, you're already doing so well”.
“Such a pretty sight”.
It's all too much, Steve pushes a thumb through your puckered hole. The sensation of being filled in both holes is all consuming.
It feels amazing.
You wantonly push your hips against Steve to meet his thrusts. Steve lets you control the pace.
“Good girl, good fucking girl. Fuck yourself on my cock like that”.
Steve, fingers your puckered hole as you thrust against him. You were dizzy with pleasure. You slowed your thrusts to catch your breath and blink a few times.
“Fuckk, Stevie, you feel so good”.
“It feels so good, doesn't it? We fit so well together, don't we? Your pussy was made just for me. My cock just for you”.
“Yes Stevie, your cocks all mine”.
“All yours princess, all yours”. Steve takes off the blind fold and moves you onto your back, and ties your hands in front of you. He holds your legs and spreads them with your thighs and easily slides into your sex again.
Steve picks up the pace, he's completely in control. Slow or fasts, that's all his choice. You have no choice but to take what he gives you.
Steve's thrusts are deep but slow and he shifts his hips at a slight angle. Your eyes closed, Steve doesn't like that.
“eyes on me, keep them open and no biting your lips I wanna hear you”.
You open your eyes and find him watching your face and the bounce of your tits with each thrust. He picks up the pace and thrusts deeper.
“Look at you, you look so good like this. Pussy filled with my cock. Could stay like this forever”.
You try with, with your hands to push Steve away, to help control the pace.
“move your hands, you're going to take what I give, you're doing good so far, we're almost there”. Steve cock twitches, and can feel the familiar coil inside you.
The last stroke of Steve's pelvic bone against your clit sends you over edge. You hold onto his back tightly, his climax shortly follows yours.
“I missed you so much, my love. Let me know when you're ready for round two”.
“Stevie!”.
#steve rogers#steve rogers x black!reader#steve rogers x reader#black reader#captain america x reader#steve rogers smut#captain america smut#steve rogers x fem!reader#steve rogers x black!reader smut#captain america x reader smut#captain america x black!reader smut#alternate universe
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ciao
can you please do dating x includes... with isagi, bachira, chigiri, nagi, reo, rin and sae (bllk)?
thanks 🤗
Blue Lock ~Dating them includes...~
Manga/anime: Blue Lock
Warnings: nothing
(Y/N): your name
Dating Isagi Yoichi includes taking walks together holding hands, him blushing when you laugh, him dying of embarrassment, but working even harder, if you wear his jersey during one of his games, him tying your engagement ring to the laces of his right shoe during his games (he can't keep it on his finger) and thinking it's the reason for his goals, him watching you in the stands every time he scores a goal and dedicating it to you
Dating Bachira Meguru includes wearing matching t-shirts and pajamas, him sending you spotify lyrics he thinks relates to your relationship, him cuddling into you like a koala and pouting and whining when you break free from his grasp, having matching keychain in school bag, going on photobooth dates and making funny faces at the camera, him having one of the photos you took in the photobooth in his wallet and phone cover
Dating Chigiri Hyoma includes doing skin and hair care together, you helping him to take care of his injured leg, him leaving to touch, comb and play with his hair only to you, reading novels together, him complimenting you on everything you're wearing, him blushing if you compliment his speed after a practice or game, him always carrying a hair elastic in case you need it, him having a period tracking app
Dating Nagi Seishiro includes arcade dates, watching TV series or films or videos, reading manga and playing mobile games together, him not letting you go for at least an hour when you two cuddle, him collapsing on you after coming back from training and staying in that position for quite a while, him always muttering "what a pain" when you ask him to do something (even if he does it anyway)
Dating Mikage Reo includes his gallant behavior, him paying for all the meals, gifts, hotels and places you're at, going only to fancy places, him always giving you flowers, him buying everything you want, even if you don't tell him so, him always having pads and chocolate on hand when you've your period, him always thinking "would (Y/N) like this?" every time he sees something in a store
Dating Itoshi Rin includes watching horror movies together and him being forced but actually wanting to hug you so you won't be afraid, him glaring at the boys too close to you (for him), him giving you his sweatshirt if he notices you're cold, him always giving you only veiled compliments, him teaching you how to play football, him having more photos of you than of him on his phone, him having you as his photo on his phone's lock screen
Dating Itoshi Sae includes him being mean to everyone but you, him hugging you from behind when you least expect it, him keeping all your gifts and the cards you gave him, him always mentioning you at least once during his interviews (he doesn't do it on purpose, it's completely involuntary), him carrying you in his arms like a bride effortlessly if you're tired, him thinking about your wedding every time he passes a jewelry
💮 Rules 💮 Masterlist 💮
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#blue lock fluff#blue lock x reader fluff#bllk#bllk x reader#bllk fluff#bllk x reader fluff#isagi yoichi#isagi x reader#isagi fluff#bachira meguru#bachira x reader#bachira fluff#chigiri hyoma#chigiri x reader#chigiri fluff#nagi seishiro#nagi x reader#nagi fluff#reo mikage#reo x reader#reo fluff#itoshi rin#rin x reader#rin fluff#itoshi sae#sae x reader#sae fluff#blue lock x you
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. ・。・ self checkout ࿐ nagi seishiro.
── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content ㆍ﹒fluff, aged up!nagi, pro footballer!nagi, height difference (reader is shorter than nagi), shopping trips, slightly suggestive, established relationship. f!reader. w.c. 2k & not proofread.
── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis ㆍ﹒nagi enjoys running errands if the two of you go together. & ໒꒰ྀི ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ྀིა notes: baby’s first blue lock fic !! honestly i’m supa nervous bc i haven’t written 4 them before n i’m still figuring things out but i hope u enjoy reading this anw <333
“this date is so tiring,” nagi laments for the fifth time since you stepped through the automated sliding doors of the neighborhood supermarket. he blows out a breath from his puffed cheeks, sounding as if he is on the verge of collapsing while you browse the shelves for pantry essentials and late night snacks. “when can we go home?”
a trendy song from a summer spotify mix croons over the tinny speakers overhead, its bubblegum pop lyrics interrupted every now and then by a cheery voice advertising new items and upcoming discounts. the supermarket is busier than when you and seishiro usually stop by, which isn’t all that surprising considering it’s the end of the day. college students carry armfuls of instant ramen and sugary sodas for study sessions and old ladies browse for medicinal teas while parents push full carts of groceries, ignoring their wailing children who press their little noses against the frosty glass of the freezers, begging to be given overpriced ice creams locked away inside.
and you resist the urge to roll your eyes with exasperation, glancing over to where your boyfriend leans heavily on the handle of the cart he has been tasked with pushing for you— his long fingers tapping away at a mobile game on the screen of his phone.
“that’s because,” you begin, wagging a finger at him when you turn around and toss an item into the bottom of the cart. “it’s not a date, sei. i told you that i had to run errands today and you insisted on coming with me when you hate it.”
“‘s’boring at home when you’re not there, so it seemed like a good idea at first,” he shrugs, rolling the cart further down the aisle when you’re on the move again. slothy, midwinter gray eyes drag lazily over your body— taking in the way your faded t-shirt (which is, really, just one of his old ones) rides up a little on your body, exposing the cute little dimples in the soft part of your back as you stand on your tiptoes, struggling to reach one of the higher shelves in the freezer section.
you are well aware that nagi hates daily tasks. things such as making the bed in the morning, washing the dishes after dinner, or visiting the laundromat once a week requires too much energy from your drowsy footballer boyfriend, but it makes you happy to know that he tries, even if he falls asleep while doing it; that he will do anything if you are involved, and nothing if you aren’t.
like right now, he abandons his mobile game and the shopping cart in the middle of the aisle without care to come over and help you, making a mother of two-under-two glare at him viciously. he snorts, sliding his hand into the back pocket of your denim shorts, a romantic comedy habit of his when the two of you are walking anywhere together. nagi’s head tilts cutely to one side, blinking owlishly up at the shelves. “which one d’you wanna get, shortstack?”
“i am not short,” you huff, twisting your mouth to one side at his teasing, but you point to the item you want— an assorted pack of ice lollies. “shelves are designed against short people. and i dunno— are we in the mood for ice cream or popsicles?”
it’s hard to make a decision because freezers full of summer treats line both sides of the aisle. tubs of gourmet gelatos, variety packs of creamy ice candies, and an endless selection of mochi with custard fillings in the middle that make your mouth water at the thought of bringing them home with you.
“i’ll eat them no matter what anyway,” he shrugs, unwilling to be the one to choose, but then his gray eyes glance down at your lips, then back to the items in front of you. you swear that his eyes darken to a stormier color, even though his expression never changes. “you make cute sounds when you suck on ice pops, and you always taste sweet after. get those.”
and then he faces forward, browsing the selection of ice creams with interest, as if his words didn’t short circuit a current in your brain. you’ll never understand how seishiro can say the most outlandish things so casually, only to return to what he’s doing while you’re left attempting to calm your fast heart.
“ice pops it is,” you say, a little winded. “make sure to get the second pack, and not the first.”
“mhnn, why’s it matter? the second one’s farther back. they all look the same to me.”
“they’re not. the first is one everybody has touched or returned.”
“that . . . makes sense,” he considers it, then he nods, lips formed into a little ‘o’ shape. “okay, we’ll get the second one.”
you watch as he steps forward, pushing the first pack of ice lollies aside to select the second as you requested, reaching the item with ease and heavens, it’s moments like these when you are reminded just how much bigger seishiro is. he’s always towered over your shorter height and it’s so, so unfair how he uses it to his advantage, making your tummy burn at the sight. frosty air wafts from the open door of the freezer, bringing chills over your heated skin. “‘s a good thing i was here, since you’re so little— there was no way you could reach it.”
“‘m not little,” you mumble, all pouty because nagi is squishing your cheeks between two finger pads. “you’re just so tall. it’s unfair.”
“want me to be shorter?” he asks, and before you can ask what he means, nagi drops the pack of ice pops into your hands and deflates dramatically, bending down to drape himself over your frame. his head tucked against your shoulder, the footballer’s milky fringe tickling the skin of your neck as he closes his eyes. “man, now ‘m even more tired.”
“seishiro, you’re heavy.”
“i know,” he sighs, eyes shuttering below thick lashes, but he makes no effort to move away from your body. instead, his hand slithers under your shirt. making you shiver because his fingertips are dewy and cold from the arctic blast of the freezer and the frozen treat he picked up. you hiss, squirming under his touch as his fingers trail across your belly. “but i’m tired ‘n’ you feel s’soft, like a pillow.”
“nagi, off,” you wheeze, his extra weight making it hard for you to properly breathe. it’s easy to forget how solid he is, straight lines of athletic muscle that usually has you cow-eyed and cooing, as long as it’s not weighing you down in the middle of a supermarket. you try to shake him off, but the midfielder only squeezes you against his body even tighter, his slightly damp lips pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “we’re never gonna get anything done like this, you lazy boy. if you don’t wanna walk, go wait in the sitting area with the grandpas.”
he sighs in defeat and shakes his head, pressing his lips together in that cute frown he pulls whenever he’s thinking. then, he’s dropping his arms from you suddenly. “mmhn, got a better idea.”
“and what’s that—”
you face nagi, only to catch your boyfriend with one foot in the shopping cart as he tries to hoist himself over the railing and inside of the basket.
“sei, you can’t fit in there—!” your eyes flicker between him, and the elderly man judging the two of you at the other end of the aisle. “you’re too big.”
“you’re always saying things like that,” he says, and the innuendo intertwined in the words flies over your pretty head because with one boost, he’s hopping over the railing and sinking into the cart, the metal rattling in protest. you stand there, dumbstruck as he settles. “now i can stay with you without walking.”
“yeah, but now that means i have to push you,” you grumble. “i should leave you here and get a new cart.”
but it’s hard to refuse when your boyfriend is that cute. his impossibly long legs are folded against his chest so that he can fit inside the shopping cart comfortably, taking extra care not to crush any of the delicate items surrounding him. the lower half of his face is buried into the collar of his soft hoodie as he absently chews on the drawstrings, but you can still see the sanrio bandaid you put on him yesterday after he got a nasty elbow to the cheek during football practice.
even though you two are already receiving strange looks from other shoppers passing by, you grip the handle, pushing the cart and your boyfriend dutifully, rolling it onto the next aisle.
“you look ridiculous,” you tell him, but you’re grinning. “but here, you’re on list duty. what do we need to get next?”
nagi’s eyes dutifully scan over the shopping list open in the notes app of your phone, his fingernail scrolling the screen lightly.
“it says ‘ramen because my greedy athlete bf keeps eating it all’ so y’need to get . . . oi, you mean me—”
“i wonder who wrote that there,” you whistle innocently, plucking the device out of his hands, wheeling him away fast.
the rest of your shopping trip is a blur, except for you turning a corner too fast and nearly dumping him out of the cart or the weird looks shoppers continue to give you because by the time you’re lining up in the queue, nagi is buried under the items because he takes up too much space. there’s a bag of rice on one shoulder, a pack of ramen on the other and fresh radishes sprouting from the snowy peaks of his head. not to mention, he’s still holding the pack of ice pops, condensation dripping over his hands.
“you’re making them melt, sei.” because he runs hot a heated blanket in the summer, and you can sympathize with the poor popsicles being defrosted in his big hands.
“‘m gonna eat one so they won’t— oh, hey this one is lemon,” he says, prying open the cardboard lid and tearing open the plastic wrapper of a lemon crème ice pop. tongue peeking out to lick before he’s holding it over his shoulder for you to taste next. “try it. i don’t sound as cute as you when i eat them.”
“sei, you’re not supposed to open those before we—” but nagi pushes the cold treat between your lips insistently, your eyes rounding wide, whining in protest as the ice pop hits your sensitive teeth. but it does taste good— creamy, sweet and sour flavors coating the surface of your tongue. “oh, it’s sh’good. we should get another pack.”
“see? y’make the cutest sounds when you suck it.”
“shut up, seishiro.”
you begin placing the items on the conveyor belt, listening to the irritating bleep, bleep, bleep of the scanner as the cashier rings up each product. you’re not frugal, but you peep at the total on the screen every now and then with a wince.
“that’s it for you, or are you buying the man in your cart too, ma’am?” the cashier asks, glancing at nagi as he finishes off the melting ice pop in the shopping cart, chin resting on top of his knees.
“no,” and you giggle, cheeks warming as you roll your eyes in exasperation. “this one is already mine.”
#little novels.#nagi x reader#nagi x you#nagi fluff#nagi seishiro x reader#nagi seishiro x you#blue lock x reader#blue lock fluff#blue lock x you#bllk x you#bllk x reader#bllk fluff
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Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter One
A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic
Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child?
Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader
Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, alcohol
Chapter summary: Y/N meets Bob's squadron, and encounters someone she thought she'd never see again; the Daggers celebrate Jake's birthday where he and Y/N have their first conversation after the one night stand
Masterlist here
You were late. Bob was going to kill you. Your brother was a stickler when it came to being on time. It came as no surprise to anyone in your family that he had gone into the military.
You rushed through the door, purse strap getting caught on the handle and you tugged it free, chest rising as you spun around, searching for Bob. He stood in the corner of the coffee shop, pristine in a khaki uniform, eyes wide behind his wire glasses.
“Hi Ducky,” he said as you tossed yourself into his arms, breathing in his familiar scent. He felt like home, even though it had been years since you and Bob had lived under the same roof. You had been barely a teen when Bob left for the Naval Academy, and his stints on land were far and few between after. His assignment to Top Gun was the first time he had settled somewhere on a more permanent basis. It’s why you decided to move to San Diego after college. All of your friends had scattered around the country – grad school in New York, policy analysts in Washington, even one friend had taken an internship with an art dealer in Miami. But you had packed up and left Tennessee with one goal. Be closer to your brother.
“Bobby,” you grinned, stepping back to admire him. Every time you saw him it was months apart and so much had changed, but also so little. He was the same Bob who had thrown you over his shoulder to win the family flag football game on Thanksgiving. The same Bob who had carried your book bag for you when you were in elementary school and he was a middle schooler and went a mile out of his way every morning to make sure you got to your homeroom class safe and sound. The Bob who always picked up, day or night, when you called. The Bob who listened to you weep about your college boyfriend who broke your heart. The Bob who took care of you when you were seven and had the flu and your mom was working a double shift at the hospital and couldn’t stay home with you.
“Ducky,” he said, dropping your hands. The familiar nickname on his tongue brought forward a flood of memories: spring weekends flying kites in the nearby park, sitting on the back of a tandem bike with Bob on a trip to Florida to visit your grandparents, the fort the two of you made the one time it snowed two feet in Tennessee in under a day in March. “This is my squad. Guys, meet my sister, Y/N.”
You tore your gaze from Bob, looking over at the table he was gesturing to, a smile plastered on your face. A beautiful brunette with pearly white teeth and a tight bun was on the far left. That was Phoenix. You had received a handful of letters from Bob talking about her. Next to Phoenix was a handsome, bulky man with a mustache in a plain blue t-shirt. Wow, he was gorgeous.
Your eyes shifted over one more, breath halting in your throat as your gaze slowly crept up. First you spotted the dog tags. Eerily familiar, but then again, a lot of military guys wore dog tags, right?
Then the chin. Ridiculously cut jaw, slight bifurcated butt chin that you had found weirdly adorable two nights before. Plump, pink lips, puckered up in a grin. You felt your heart sink. There was only one thing left. You raised your eyes to his. Clear, seafoam green. An ocean in two small orbs. He smiled as you screamed internally.
Bob’s voice drew you out of your coma. “That’s Bradley.” The mustache man waved a hand. “And Jake Seresin. Hangman.”
Jake. Your stomach did a somersault.
Last time you had seen him, you had been teetering on the edge of drunk, standing outside of the bar with one hand on the railing, the salty ocean wind licking at the sweat on your collarbone, flicking the ends of your hair up against your chin.
The next moment, his tongue was on your throat, in your mouth, fingers in your hair, pressing your body against the railing of the deck as you whimpered into his lips.
You had crept out of bed before he woke up. Just a gorgeous, tan, muscular back sticking out beneath crisp white sheets as you tugged on your short dress and called an Uber. You had expected to never see him again.
And here he was, smirking at you as your brother’s gaze narrowed.
You had fucked up. Correction. You had fucked Jake Seresin. And that was a major fuck up.
***
Bob had never been the type to have a huge friend group, or any close friends really. So the first time he called from Top Gun, giddy with excitement, you had been elated for him. Your brother deserved a tightly knit friend group.
Before you had moved to San Diego, Bob had filled you in on the group’s antics. Their flights, their wild nights out, the dynamics. But he had centered mostly on Phoenix and Rooster.
Jake had conveniently been left out of the majority of the conversation.
“Well?” Bob asked as the two of you headed back to his house in your rental car. “What do you think of the group?”
“They’re nice,” you said.
“That’s it? Nice?”
You sighed. “I’m really happy for you, Bobby. You have a good group of friends. I know that’s what you always wanted.”
Bob leaned back against the seat. You were the one person that Bob confided in. He was an open book and you could read him with one glance. Looking over, you spotted his furrowed brow, the tense way he was squeezing his knuckles together.
“Are you OK?” you asked, turning your eyes back toward the road, slowing down to take a right turn.
“Tell me you didn’t move here for me.”
“Then I’d be lying.”
“Y/N,” Bob said. His voice had taken on Big Brother™ mode. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Don’t you want me around?” you whispered.
“Of course I do,” Bob replied. “I just don’t want you to waste your life following me.”
“Living in California a waste?” you asked. “No way.”
“What’s the plan, Duck?”
“Not everyone was born potty trained and with a plan, Bobby.”
“You’re twenty-three,” he countered. “It’s time to be an adult and figure out what you’re doing with your life.”
“You sound like mom.”
“And we both know she’s never wrong.”
You sighed. “Just because you got your life together at seven doesn’t mean I have to.”
“Duck—”
You cut him off. “Bobby, please. It’s been a week. Give me a little time and I promise, I'll figure out what I’m doing. Just be my brother, OK, instead of acting like my dad.”
That silenced him. Bob had taken your father’s disappearance harder than you had. He put on a brave face. He stepped up. He became the man of the house. But that meant that he had taken it upon himself to be your brother and your dad. So even at twenty three he still saw you as a child.
The two of you drove the rest of the way back to Bob’s house in silence. Inside, you were just about to close the door to your guest bedroom when Bob’s voice floated down the hall.
“By the way,” he said, “I told the squad we’d go out for drinks with them tonight. It’s Jake’s birthday.”
You grimaced. “Sounds good.”
“Leave at nine?”
“Sure.” You closed the door, plopping down on the bed face first. You had moved to San Diego to figure your life out. And of course the first thing you had done was have a one night stand with one of Bob’s teammates. If he had been anyone else in the world you would have been able to avoid him.
What do you get someone for their birthday when you hoped you’d never see them again?
***
“Floyd!”
You turned at the same time as Bob. Bradley grinned. “Oh this is going to get confusing.”
“Here.” Natasha pointed to the bar stool next to her. “Have a seat. Boys will get you a drink. Bradshaw?”
Bradley tipped his head. “On it, ma’am.”
She rolled her eyes as you settled into the seat, crossing your legs beneath the short skirt. “So, Y/N. Bob’s told me all about his little sister. But he left out that you were coming to live here.”
“I’m not much of a planner.”
Phoenix laughed. “The anti-Bob. I like you already.”
“He’s told me a lot about you,” you replied. “And Bradley.”
“And nothing about Jake I’m guessing?” You nodded and Phoenix took a sip of her beer. “Trust me when I say, you don’t want to even go there.”
“Are you speaking from experience?”
Phoenix craned her neck around, making sure the two of you were out of earshot before nodding. “Just steer clear of him. That’s my suggestion. Hangman is fun for a night. But things get messy quick. And he and Bob have a little bit of a history.”
You frowned. “What kind of history?”
Just as Phoenix opened her mouth to respond, Bradley pressed a beer into your open hand. “Ducky.”
You grimaced. “Bobby, you didn’t!”
He shrugged. “Sorry.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m so going to eat your last Pop-Tart tomorrow just to get you back for that.”
“Fill us in, will you?” Phoenix asked.
“When she was four, Y/N became obsessed with those little yellow rubber ducks that you put in your bath.” You groaned as your brother recounted the full story. How you had thrown a fit when your mother had tried to take you out of the bath and the only thing to calm you had been to fill your bed with the rubber ducks. And how the next morning that continued, one rubber duck gripped firmly in your chubby hand as you ate breakfast, went to the park, tagged along to the grocery store, went to daycare. This continued for weeks.
You didn’t want to admit to the team that you still had a rubber duck stuffed inside your suitcase back at Bob’s house. It was a safety net of sorts.
“Sorry, Duck,” Bob said, squeezing your shoulders and placing a small peck on the top of your head.
You looked up at him. His cheeks were flushed, he had a massive grin on his face. He was happy. All you had wanted in as long as you could remember was for Bob to be happy. He took your happiness more seriously than his own. It was time you returned the favor.
“Am I interrupting?” All eyes turned to Jake. He had on a tight black t-shirt and a pair of jeans with cowboy boots peeking out the bottom. He shot a grin your way and you did your best to avoid his eye contact.
“Happy birthday, Hangman.” There was a chill in Bob’s voice, or perhaps you were reading into it because of what Phoenix had said earlier.
Jake nodded. “Thanks, man. Anyone up for a game of darts?”
Bob dropped his hand from your shoulder, following Phoenix and Jake back toward the darts board on one end of the bar. You sat back in your seat, tipping the beer down your throat, watching as they played. There was an easy banter with all of them.
You finished your beer, the darts game still ongoing. Quietly, you slipped around the edge of the room, out the door that led to the back deck.
It was quiet outside, just the sound of the waves crashing against the hard sand and the soft hum of the music as it seeped through under the door and from behind the old windows. You laid your fingertips on the wooden railing, tipping your head back toward the moon that was slung low in the sky, feeling the cool breeze dry the sweat that had started to form on the base of your neck.
“Mind if I join?”
You turned. Jake stepped out onto the deck, a beer in one hand. He approached the railing, putting the green bottle down and smirking over at you. This time you were far less drunk. You shrugged. “It’s your birthday. Who am I to say what you can or can’t do?”
He frowned. “Don’t be like that.”
“Just because you’ve seen me naked doesn’t mean you know me.”
He looked bristled. “Y/N. I had no idea you were Bob’s sister when we met the other night. If I had known, I—”
“Wouldn’t have fucked me?”
He grimaced. “You’re the one that left without saying anything.”
You folded your arms over your chest. “It’s not like you were falling over yourself to drive me home. It was better that way and we both know it.” You allowed yourself to look up. God, he was stunning. Green, wide eyes. Tanned skin, the way his forearm flexed as he gripped the railing. You could remember the way his touch felt as he dragged his fingertips over your skin. You tried to shake the memory from your mind. “Just do me one favor.”
“Sure.”
“Don’t tell Bob,” you whispered. “Let’s just forget the other night ever happened.”
Jake’s gaze lingered. “If that’s what you want.”
You pushed up off of the railing. “It’ll be better, trust me.” You headed for the door, turning around at the last moment. Jake was still leaning against the railing, watching the waves in the dark. “Jake?”
He turned, green eyes wide. There was something almost sad about him, you thought. It was a fleeting glimpse, but you saw it.
“Happy birthday.”
He smiled. You turned, peering through the glass on the wood door. Bob had his head thrown back in a laugh as Bradley pounded against the piano keys and Phoenix danced. You smiled. Your brother was happy.
You weren’t going to ruin his perfectly crafted life by saying you had slept with one of his friends. It would be easier for everyone if you and Jake Seresin pretended you had never met before.
How would they ever catch you in your lie?
Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:
@bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @wkndwlff @mamachasesmayhem @mandylove1000 @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @shanimallina87 @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @yanna-banana @bbyvanessaa @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @joaquinwhorres @boiolay @sometimesanalice @spinning-away
#jake hangman fic#top gun fanfiction#jake seresin#top gun imagine#bob floyd fanfiction#jake hangman x you#hangman fanfiction#jake hangman imagine#bob floyd x female reader#robert bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x y/n#bob floyd x reader#jake seresin x y/n#jake seresin x you#jake seresin x reader#pregnancy#pregnancy fic#unexpected pregnancy#sister reader#natasha phoenix trace#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#glen powell
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No need to hide it
gif by @userjoel
pairing: college!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader; Post nwh; not too canon
word count: 6K
warnings: underage drinking for USA citizens; mentions of sex
summary: Peter thought no one remembered him after the spell, however you did, but not for the reasons he was afraid you would. Mostly fluff and slow burn romance.
a/n: I'm a sucker for college!Peter, I literally cannot think about anything else. ANY SCIENCE TALK IS A BUNCH OF BS I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT CHEMISTRY OR SCIENCE.
part2
"Hey, catch!" you heard a male voice from somewhere behind you, making you turn towards the sound. A brown leather football flew throgh the air, landing in your feet. You picked it up, throwing it back to the shirtless man that was jogging in your direction.
"Thanks!!" He said after he caught it, running off back to whoever the other shirtless dude he was playing with was.
"Yeah no problem..." you muttered under your breath, trying to hide how flustered you were.
It was orientation week at Empire State University.
The weather, apparently, was still warm enough to have people running shirtless around campus, and being the shy, awkward geek you were, it was hard not to get embarrassed by any social interaction, let alone one that included both sport and a half-naked man. Overall, orientation week was going well. You checked out a few classes that sparked some interest, went to the library, the gym, even got completely settled in your dorm room. Things were going smoothly, excluding the fact you hadn't really met anyone new. Most of the people in your classes seemed like they already knew at least one person and stuck to them. Since you were not really the type to go out of your way and approach people, it left you walking around campus alone, sitting in class alone and even eating alone. It wasn't all that bad, just lonely. Your roommate hadn't arrived on campus yet either, so everything felt especially odd to you, like you were invisible to everyone.
Four days in and the long walks between buildings were already annoying. It was so easy to get lost or distracted on the way between buildings. You didn't know the shortcuts yet, so it was always a hazard whether you would make it to class on time. Miraculously you got there early, and gave yourself a mental praise for that. You didn't expect to actually be in a lab on the first day of class, and were glad you got there on time because there were barely enough lab coats for everyone in the room. You really didn't want to be the freak who wasn't wearing one. You scanned the room as you sat down on one of the desks, secretly praying that this class wouldn't require having a lab partner or work in groups because it was going to make you feel even worse. And as you were stalking the people around you, your eyes landed on someone who looked suspiciously familiar. He wasn't terribly tall, curly brown hair, one backpack over his shoulder, flannel shirt over a plain white t-shirt and regular blue jeans. You could recognise Peter Parker from miles away. You've never felt so terrified and so excited at the same time. You finally knew someone in this university and it had to be him of all people. He never told you he was going to ESU. In his defense, you couldn't really recall ever speaking to him. You used to have the biggest crush on him back in high school, but never gathered the courage to actually chat him up, even if it were about homework. He never got assigned as your partner on a project either (no matter how many times you would fantasize about it), so you just graduated one day and accepted the fact it just wasn't meant to be.
But now you were presented with the perfect opportunity to actually talk to him and decided to take it. Unfortunately, the class started before you could approach him. You tried your best to keep your focus on the professor, but it seemed as if that was not necessary, he was only going over the main goals of the class and what books you would need. You sneakily looked over Peter from time to time, thinking about what would be best to say to him and not make it awkward.
The class was over in the blink of an eye, which made your heart beat pick up because you no longer had an excuse to not approach him. There was a line forming around the coat hangers, which you thought was going to be the best way to casually start a conversation. You cut the line when you saw Peter hang up his coat, putting yours next to his and smiling at him. He smiled back when the two of you locked eyes.
"Hey" you said "Peter Parker, right?"
He looked a bit stunned by your question. First, he was starstruck because the prettiest girl he had ever seen came out of nowhere and greeted him and secondly, she knew his name. And that was not supposed to be like this at all. His mind was rushing and calculating how it were possible. Were you a supervillain from an alternate reality trying to expose him? Or did the spell just not work on you? All of the scenarios seemed very bad for him.
The way he just sat there and said nothing was making you extremely nervous. It did feel like a terrible idea now that you had done it.
"We used to take Spanish together in high school." you added, your voice shaking slightly from the anxiety. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, I'm really sorr-"
"Wait Spanish?" he finally said, his theories crumbling down when he realized what was actually going on. You were no supervillain, just an old classmate. Yet, he was sure he would have remembered you.
"I really don't remember..." he continued, feeling his cheek heat up.
"Oh that's fine, we never really... spoke? Like at all, I sat all the way in the back and no one could make me say a word."
He laughed softly at your words.
"Wanna discuss this over coffee? If you don't have any other classes?"
"I'm free, so yeah, we could grab a coffee"
20 minutes later the two of you were laughing over how ridiculous you looked in the yearbook. Peter was holding your phone and looking at the photo in which you still had braces on, your eyebrows were so badly drawn on because you thought shaping them with a razor the night before was a good idea. It was not, you shaved off so much from one of them you had to fill it in. And since it was your first ever filling eyebrows in, it was very, very bad. Also, your hair looked like it was made out of dark matter, because you recently had it dyed black, straightened it and accidentally put a bit too much hair oil on it. You were definitely not having a good time back then, but it was a small price to pay to hear Peter laugh so hard. A 4-month accutane treatment to acne and taking your braces off could really make a person change enough. It was a glow up and Peter could really see it now.
"Okay now that I've seen that, I actually do remember you! You're the girl that got hit in the head with a basketball while tying her shoes on the bench during gym! Somehow you fell back and got under the benches so I had to pull you out."
"Oh no" you whined, hiding your face in your hands to hide how hard you were blushing. And he was right, that really did happen once, and it was that moment that actually started your little crush on him. You were probably 14 when it happened. You fell under the bleachers and felt so embarrassed that you froze on the spot, feeling like crying. People came running towards you, Peter beating them to it, and pulled you out by the hand. He dusted your shirt off and asked if you were alright. To your teenage mind he came in like a knight in shining armor, and it made you fall for him, very hard.
''Come on, it wasn't that bad!" he said between laughs, giving your phone back.
"It was bad, like really bad. How can your only memory of me be my worst moment in high school?''
"If that's your worst moment, you were doing good."
You took a sip from your coffee, your finger tracing the rim of the paper cup once you placed it down on the table. You really were regretting not talking to him in school, he seemed like such a nice person, you would have been good friends.
"Why did you decide to go to ESU? I thought you had plans to go to MIT with your friends."
"Oh, I didn't get in."
"Yeah, totally sounds believable, Peter Parker, the Stark intern, highest SAT score in our grade, didn't get into MIT" you said sarcastically, shaking your head at him.
He sighed, looking down at his hands. His leg started bouncing under the table and he suddenly seemed tense. Now it really did feel believable, based on his reaction.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to..."
"It's okay, honestly I was so sure I would get in too, but I don't think I ended up at a bad place"
"Obviously you didn't, I chose ESU, which makes it the best place ever. And now that I know you're here too, I get double confirmation for that."
He laughed softly at your words.
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A few weeks later you were actually glad to have to work in pairs in the lab because Peter asked you to be his partner.
You arrived just before the class started, sitting down at the table and putting your protective goggles on.
"Sorry" you said as you sat down next to him, taking the empty flask that was sitting in front of him and immediately starting to mix the things you managed to read on the board.
Peter smiled at you as he watched you, doing his own thing which you didn't pay too much attention to.
"Roommate problems again?" he asked.
Being lab partners meant the two of you had to talk regularly, which led to getting closer. You didn't know many people there besides him and your nightmare of a roommate.
"You have no idea." you sighed, dropping a few droplets into a test tube. The mixture inside started smoking up slightly, you swirled it around until it stopped, passing it to him so he could heat it up.
"What did she do this time?"
"Locked me in and took both of the keys on her way out. I had to call her to come back and unlock, she was pissed."
"Still don't get how someone can be so rude to you for no reason."
"I don't think she hates me really, she hates the idea of me. Not every 3rd year student is keen on the idea of babysitting a freshmen, I totally get that."
Peter wrote something down in his notebook after the mixture started bubbling up. You looked at it, brows furrowing.
"What's the temperature?"
"140 F"
"Peter that's not supposed to happen" you said worried
"Actually it is, you didn't have the time to read the board and put only half"
"Oh-"
He removed the test tube, letting it cool down.
"It's okay, we'll just multiply it by two."
"Sometimes I wonder what I would do if you weren't here."
"Probably blow up the place."
You rolled your eyes at him before the both of you laughed, continuing your work. You tried being more concentrated now, and for the most part it was working out. Until Peter would roll up his sleeves and expose his forearms. Or when he would take the goggles off to fix his hair. You tried staring as discreetly as possible, but he probably did notice it every time.
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That same night was your first ever frat party. You weren't really a fan of parties, the high school ones you went to were boring but you were hoping that college ones were going to live up to the hype everyone was giving them. Plus, you were trying to make amends with your roommate, and she wanted some alone time with her boyfriend back at your place. The idea of frat boys really turned you off, you had seen more than enough of them in class and around campus.
The music was booming through the speakers as you entered the house, people were everywhere. You could barely squish through the crowd, it was barely 10 pm and people were already wasted. You really wanted to let loose that night too, so you made it over to the bar and took whatever drink was handed to you first. It was vodka. Tasted bitter and burned down your throat and stomach as you drank it. The stress from university and the complicated relationship with Ruth, your roommate, were really starting to get you. Add your unresolved feelings for Peter to the mix and you really do have a strong enough pressure to make you explode like a time bomb. So, you wanted to take some pressure off by drinking and dancing. No one knew you here anyway so it was relatively easy to just do whatever you wanted.
Five shots of vodka were already in your system by the first hour. The dance floor was yours to take. A red plastic cup in your hand while you were swaying to the rhythm of the song playing, boys were coming from left and right to dance together. And you did dance with them, probably even made out with one or two as well. It continued for what felt like forever, until 2 am rolled around and you started feeling tired and wasted. And the alcohol in your blood was about to hit you in the worst way possible and make you overthink everything that was going on around you. At that point you were sat on a couch in the trashed living room and some dude was talking to you. His hand was on your knee. You were too preoccupied by your own thoughts to even listen to whatever he had to say.
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Peter hid behind his apartment building on campus, looking around to make sure no one would see him as he took off the spider-man costume. Ever since he went back to no one knowing his identity, he had to sneak around. He couldn't risk any of his roommates seeing him accidentally so he took the costume off outside after patrol, shoved it in his backpack and walked in. If anyone was ever awake and asked where he was, he would say either the library or doing lab work with you. He really did use you as an excuse a lot to his roommates, which gave them all kinds of wrong ideas. He didn't share a bedroom with anyone, which made his life so much easier, but there was a whole other bedroom with two boys in it in his apartment.
No one was awake when he walked in, throwing his bag on the floor next to his bed. He felt shattered. The whole studying and spider-man business was draining his batteries like never before. Peter lay down on the bed, too tired to even get out of his jeans. He was rapidly drifting into sleep when his phone started ringing. He groaned in annoyance, looking at the screen only to see it were from you. Peter quickly picked it up, any feeling of tiredness leaving his body when he heard you crying on the other side of the phone.
"Hey, hey, what happened? Are you hurt? Where are you?" he asked, panicked.
"Ruth locked me out again." you cried on the phone "She left her key in, she was with her boyfriend and they were probably doing the deed and locked themselves and fell asleep."
You babbled really fast, he was trying to understand what you were saying but it was muffled by soft sobs. And you didn't sound sober either.
"Peter, you fix all of my lab mistakes, please fix this."
He wasn’t sure what to do, especially since he didn’t know where you lived exactly. There weren’t many opinions in this situation, he could either find you and kick the door down so you could get in your place or he could take you in his room and let you sleep there.
“Can you tell me where you are?”
“In front of my dorm?”
“I don’t know where that is, genius”
You continued sobbing at his words, which made him feel even worse. You were very vulnerable and probably scared and he was acting poorly.
“Okay, okay, sorry, I didn't mean that. Tell me where your dorm is and I’ll come fix it, okay?”
“It’s the one next to the library”
He hopped out of his bed, rushing towards the building.
When he got there he saw you sitting on the steps, looking down at your feet.
"Hey" he said, standing in front of you, his hands in his pockets as he watched you slowly look up to him. Your eyes were red from all the crying and your cheeks were still wet from the tears. Peter sat down next to you with a sigh, the second he did that he could tell you had been drinking. The smell of vodka and cigarettes were all over your clothes.
"Hi" you muttered back after a while, not really sure what to say or do at this point.
"So what happened?" he whispered to you, bumping his shoulder into yours
"I got locked out, again" you whispered back, looking at him. He was smiling, a warm, comforting smile that made you feel so incredibly guilty that you called him.
It made you realize what time it actually was, and that you probably woke him up. It was the middle of the night, and you woke up the closest thing you had to a friend here to help you. You ruined his sleep so he could save you from something you could have probably figured out on your own if you weren’t drunk.
"Come on" he said, getting up and reaching out his hand to help you up as well. ''Let's get you out of here"
You took his hand, the tears were welling up in your eyes again as you looked at him. He seemed so tired, yet he came rushing to your rescue.
He walked in his room, trying to be as quiet as possible.
"Wow you have a double bed??" you said as you looked around his room.
"Oh, yeah" he said, blushing when he saw the state of it. He didn't really think about making the bed before he left and the bedding looked like scrambled eggs with all the pillows and blankets everywhere. Peter didn’t want to look messing in front of you but it was too late for that.
"Lucky duck"
Peter was kind enough to take out some clothes for you to sleep in while you showered. It was a spare pair of pajama pants and an old star wars t-shirt. He looked away while you got dressed and helped you into bed after that.
"I can't thank you enough for this."
"Oh, you can, you can do my calculus homework."
The both of you laughed after that. He grabbed a pillow and a blanket, with the intention of sleeping on the couch.
"Where are you going?"
"To sleep?"
"Not here?"
"Well, no-.... I-.... Don't want to invade...."
"I feel bad enough about it as it is, please come sleep in your bed, it's big enough" you whined.
Peter stood at the door. He really didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable, or crush you while he slept but at that point he was so shattered that the bed seemed like the best thing that could happen to him. You got up and pulled him towards the bed, grabbing the pillow and blanket with your other hand and throwing them on.
Peter was asleep the second his head hit the pillow, and you followed a minute or two later. It didn't feel as weird to sleep in the same bed as the two of you had anticipated. Maybe the alcohol helped. You were pretty sure that it was, in fact, the alcohol that made you call him, the one that insisted on sharing the bed as well. Sober you would probably be a flustered mess just from the thought of being in Peter's bedroom alone.
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The second Ruth knew you had somewhere to sleep over, she took advantage of it. It was happening so often that you basically had a schedule when you would sleep over at Peter's. He didn't mind one bit because it was a reason to spend time with you. Plus, you did all your work for classes together, even in classes you or him weren't taking. So by the middle of the semester, you two were practically platonically dating.
And it made you feel the worst and the best type of ways at the same time. You absolutely loved spending time with him and your feelings were only getting deeper and deeper with each day. Somehow, you still felt like you were taking away the college experience from him. He declined every party opportunity his roommates suggested, he rarely spoke to other girls and if he went out with friends from other classes, he would always make you tag along with them. Everyone thought that if you were not dating, then you were definitely hooking up, no matter how many times you denied it. Truth being told, it was actually kind of weird that you weren't doing either of those. And it got even weirder when someone else started expressing an interest in Peter.
Surprisingly enough, even to yourself, you actually liked going to parties. The alcohol helped you loosen up and talk and since Peter actually had other friends, now you knew some people here and there. You would always find someone to chat with at a party and you learned that socializing wasn't at all as scary as it seemed before.
Tonight you found yourself at a random party in some basement of the dorm on the other side of campus. You knew that you'd be home late so the arrangements of staying over at Peter's were already made. As you were speaking to someone from your beginner-friendly biology class, a girl approached you. She was tall, way taller than you, had long dark hair and an amazing body. She grabbed your arm and said your name in a questioning tone. You nodded slightly taken aback from the interaction.
"Can I borrow you for a second?" she asked, turning to the other person in an apologetic smile.
"Sure."
She pulled you a bit away, still holding your arm right above the elbow. The whole thing was making you tense for some reason.
"I'm sorry that I asked like this." she said, letting your arm go. "Actually, we've met before, I take calculus with Peter Parker, he brought you over at one of our group study sessions."
"Oh. Right." you did remember her now, but she looked slightly different with heavy makeup on. She definitely looked like one of the it girls on campus and you got the impression that she actually was.
"So I wanted to ask if you and Peter were a thing?"
Once again you were stunned by a question from her. You looked around for some reason, she was making you feel uneasy.
"Um, no, we're not."
"Great!" she said with a bright smile. "Do you think he'd be into me? He has this nerdy sex appeal, I actually really want to get with him."
You were blinking in disbelief towards her. This whole thing was really not making you feel well about your situation. She was gorgeous and she wanted to fuck your crush, it was going to end badly for you. You felt something like a ball in your throat that you knew even the gin couldn't wash down.
"Well, good luck with that." you said, patted her shoulder and walked away before you started crying in front of her.
The whole situation really put you in a bad mood. There was nothing particularly wrong with it, but it managed to burst the bubble you were so peacefully living in. It got you wondering if Peter had his eyes on someone, if he was sleeping around with different girls, if he was going on dates. You kept imagining it, and drinking to try to stop, but nothing seemed to help. You couldn't spend every waking second with him to know, plus he never talked about girls with you. You didn't know who he was texting, or if he were going out with someone and not telling you. You were sure he wasn't because no girlfriend would ever feel okay with some random girl sleeping over as much as you did. Then again, he could be hooking up with someone, you were only sleeping over two or three times a week.
You were so preoccupied by your worries that you almost didn't pick up your phone when Peter called. He said he finished whatever work he had to do and was going to come to the party and pick you up. It made you even more anxious.
He walked through the door 15 minutes after the phone call. The whole thing was a sensory overload for him, the music was way too loud, the colors were too flashy, people were everywhere. He was constantly on edge because people were walking a little too close and his reflexes were being triggered. He hated parties. He hated the idea of you liking them even more. With the amount of time the two of you were spending together in the last few months, he grew very attached, he even developed a little crush of his own, but he was too terrified to admit that. Given his background and his secret, he wasn't too sure he wanted to put you through what MJ had gone through. He felt like it would be unfair to lie to you at the same time, it's not something you could hide from the person you're dating.
People greeted him here and there, giving him brofists and handshakes. Peter really felt like a real frat boy, but he hated the experience. He froze in his tracks when he saw a girl that looked just like you making out with some dude. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, his chest tightened and it felt like someone set his lungs on fire. You were wearing black skinny jeans and a black top, hair was tied in a bun and your tongue was in someone's mouth. Was that why you sounded so weird on the phone? Was that why you waited so long to pick up? Peter was too stunned to even move so he just stood there in shock for a few seconds. He felt a hand on his shoulder, which made him snap out of it, turning his head. He met your eyes when he looked down, giving you a confused look. His head turned back to the other you that was still exchanging saliva with a guy, then back to the actual you. He finally started breathing again. Your outfit was actually nothing like the girl's, you had a long-sleeved light blue dress on that had a v-cut. It made you look really desirable and the way the color mixed so well with the lighting in the room, you looked like you walked straight out of Peter's dreams. He was practically trying to take pictures of you with his eyes for later.
"What?" you asked as you noticed his stare, looking at your dress for accidental spills or any signs of why he was looking at you like that.
"Nothing, actually." he said, taking the cup you were holding and finishing whatever was in it. He didn't really care what was in, alcohol had little to no effect on him but he liked to pretend.
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You expected to go home shortly after Peter's arrival, but things didn't play out that way. The girl that talked to you about him earlier tonight saw the two of you and came over to chat. After 15 minutes of them talking and you awkwardly standing there, holding an empty cup in your hand, you were feeling more annoyed than ever. And pretty drunk too. You were already in a bad mood because of her, and when Peter suggested walking her to her dorm you just felt like crying. Your feet were killing you because of the heels you were wearing and you made sure to inform him but he seemed to have forgotten about that.
And now, all three of you were walking around campus to get her safely to her room. You were giving them a side eye the whole time while she tried to scoot over closer to him. And when she said she was cold she could offer his flannel, you rolled your eyes so hard you got scared they'd get stuck and not come back. Unfortunately, they did come back and you had to witness him putting his shirt over her shoulders. Once at her dorm, she even had the audacity to kiss his cheek before walking in. It made him blush, and you, you were really about to throw up at that point. It felt like a very weird game of chess, and she had checked you in it.
"Are you okay?" Peter asked when he saw how you looked. Gorgeous, he thought, but kind of pale and like you would collapse any second.
"No" you said, your eyes meeting his. You could see the lipstick stain on his skin from the other girl and now you really did feel like throwing up. You were only 3 steps away from him and he made them so fast you felt like he teleported.
"No, no, Peter, step away" you told him, your hand covering your mouth while you rushed to the nearest trash can and actually threw up. He rushed after you, holding your hair as you did.
"You didn't look THAT drunk." he said, patting your back while you were coughing.
"This is so embarrassing" you cried softly, as if this night wasn't humiliating enough.
"There, there, I hope you got it all out because I am not changing my sheets for the second time today."
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"I'm thinking about switching my field of studies." you said, looking at Peter.
He took his glasses, looking at you in disbelief. He was sat at his desk, trying to solve a math problem while you were lying on his bed, playing on your phone.
"Chemistry doesn't do it for you anymore?" he asked mockingly.
"No, I just hate spending so much time with you." you replied in the same tone, sticking your tongue out at him.
It had been a week since the whole party thing. You didn't throw up at his place, but you did have the worst hangover of your life. Peter helped you through it, but didn't pass up an opportunity to make fun of you.
"Then why are you here? I'm sure there's a party somewhere on campus."
"Shut upppp" you groaned, throwing a pillow at him. He caught it mid air and put it on the back of his chair before turning to finish his work.
It felt like it was too early to sleep but you didn't have anything better to do since Peter was so busy with math. You turned on your side, facing the wall, since you liked sleeping on the side next to the wall, and closed your eyes. You didn't know how long it had been but you were definitely asleep when you got woken up by a knock on the door. You looked up with confusion, half asleep when Peter gave you an apologetic smile and got up from his chair to check who it was.
He assumed it was one of his roommates that either lost or forgot his key, but he was surprised to open the door to his calculous classmate.
"Hey, Pete." She said "May I come in?"
"Sure-" he said, letting her in
The girl walked over to the couch and sat down.
"Remember last week when you gave me this shirt?"
"I do." he said, only now noticing what she was wearing. It was his flannel, with a belt around her waist.
"Well, I came to return it." she said, unbuttoning it and taking it off. She got up, only in her underwear and walked towards him, handing him the shirt.
Peter was so flustered that he had to stare at his feet the whole time.
"I think you got the wrong idea here-" he started, squeezing the flannel in his hand.
"About what?" she asked, squatting down in front of him so he could see her, and, well, you know...
Just as he was about to move, the door of his bedroom flew open. You stood there, wearing his shirt as your pajamas, double taking on what you were seeing. You didn't think there would be anything serious happening, but the chatter was disturbing your sleeping attempts and you wanted to check what was going on. But now you were just frozen in your spot, staring at a half-naked girl that was on her knees in front of Peter. Both of their heads turned towards you, staring in the same amount of disbelief. It felt like your worst nightmares had turned into reality. Neither of you knew what to do or what to say and you just stood there in silence, the tension so heavy it could suffocate someone.
"It's not what it looks like." Peter managed to say, holding eye contact with you.
''I'm so sorry, I didn't know-'' she started, getting up from the floor.
"I think I'll pretend I dreamt that and go back to sleep." you said, closing the door before anyone could do or say anything else.
"Peter, I didn't know, she told me you two weren't a thing last week."
He handed her the shirt, not even bothering to look at her.
"We're not. You can keep this, go home."
She walked to the door, stopping at it to look at his back.
"I'm really sorry, if I can do anything, tell me."
"Goodnight."
He knocked gently on the door before walking in. He saw you tucked in the bed, hugging one of the pillows. You weren't really sure what to feel right now and you were trying your best not to cry. It wasn't like the things between you had changed and you had no right to be upset over his personal affairs. Peter sat on the bed next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.
"I know you're not sleeping, can we talk about this?"
"Talk about what?"
"What happened back there."
"There is nothing to talk about."
"I don't want you to get the wrong idea."
You sat up, still hugging the pillow. You pressed the back against the wall, looking directly into his eyes.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why don't you want me to get the wrong idea? Whatever that is supposed to mean."
He looked at his lap, unsure of what to say next.
"Because I'm not that kind of guy."
"Peter, it's none of my business what you do for fun."
"For fun? You think I do this for fun?"
"You're not doing math for fun, that's for sure."
"Are you always a bitch or is it a defense mechanism?"
"You were the one who wanted me to ''not get the wrong idea'' and suddenly I turned into a bitch?"
"Okay, I overstepped on that one. Nothing happened there, I haven't talked to her or seen her since we left the party together and you threw up."
"Okay, for some reason I believe that, but why should it be concerning me?"
"Stop pretending."
"Excuse me?"
He didn't say anything after that, just pulled your arm so you could get closer to him and kissed you. It happened so fast you couldn't really process it. Once the shock was over, you kissed him back. You probably looked like a teen movie kissing scene, you on your knees and arms while he was sitting, one arm for support and the other one cupping your face as you kissed.
"I should have done this way sooner." he said after you parted.
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Carnival
Mary Earps x Child!Reader
Summary: Mary takes you to the carnival
Lockdown was both the bane of Mary's existence and the best thing in the world.
The worst thing because it meant confusion and fear and no football for a while. The best thing because it brought her you.
She fostered at first before moving to adoption when she found that she couldn't be parted from you.
With the lockdowns tentatively over now, things had started opening up again.
Like the carnival.
"They're rigged," You tell her.
You're still little but you speak well for your age, well advanced when compared to any of your peers.
"Rigged?" Mary laughs," Where've you heard that word?"
"I read it," You say," In a book."
"Oh. I forgot I was taking a genius out."
You make a little noise of acknowledgement before turning back to the carnival game.
It's most definitely rigged.
All of them are.
This one is one of those basketball toss games where you know the ring is only just wide enough for the ball to get through. If the throw isn't perfect then it'll hit the rim and bounce away.
Mary is looking at it with concentration though and you snag her belt loops, tugging lightly.
You hadn't meant to stop in the first place but you'd caught sight of one of the prizes.
One shot in got you a keychain.
Two shots got you a little inflated ball.
Three in meant the prize was a small toy.
Four was a medium sized toy.
Five was a big toy.
The big toys are displayed at the very top of the game. A lot of them a bears or big puppies but a handful of them are birds. They're in lots of different colours.
Yellow seems to be the most prominent colour but then it's pink. The one that caught your eye is blue though.
You like the look of it a lot but you also know the odds of winning it are slim to none.
Five perfect shots in a row is very difficult especially when the backing board behind the hoop is angled at a way that means if the ball hits it, it won't go into the hoop in the slightest.
"Mary," You say, tugging," Let's go."
Mary doesn't move though. "You want the bird?"
"Yes."
"Then let's try."
"No."
"You don't even want to try?"
You shake your head, scuffing your foot into the dirt. "It's not worth it, Mary."
"Would it make you happy though?"
"Yes."
"Then let's try."
"But-"
"Come on, birdie," Mary says," We'll try a few rounds and if we get it, we get it but if not that's fine too."
It costs five pounds for five balls and Mary fails abysmally for her first round.
It stokes something in her though, especially when your eyes dart away from the toy with every missed shot.
You've had a rough go of it, Mary thinks as she pays for another few rounds. Before her, you'd had a failed adoption. The couple had wanted you but then the wife had gotten pregnant and they realised what they actually wanted was a biological child.
It had fallen through and you'd bounced for a few days before being fostered by Mary.
She'd worked hard with you on understanding that she wasn't going to abandon you. She'd worked hard to get you to accept her as a maternal role in your life.
But that illusive word still evaded her.
She didn't need it, not truly. She knew what you thought of her and you knew what she thought of you.
She'd do anything for your happiness, including draining her bank to win you this stupid blue bird.
Your eyes had lit up when you'd seen it but you seemed fairly realistic for such a little kid.
These games were rigged but Mary refuses to let that stop her.
You want this stupid bird.
She'll get you this stupid bird.
Her hands are sweaty as she grabs her last ball. The others, surprisingly, have all gone in after nearly fifteen rounds of this stupid carnival game and it slowly dawns on her that this is the last shot.
She wipes her hands on her shirt.
"Mary?" You say and she looks down at you," Are you okay?"
"I'm just fine, birdie. One last shot and we can get your bird."
You glance down bashfully, fingers still threaded around her belt loop. "It's okay if you can't make it. We can go on the teacups instead."
Mary frowns, dropping to her knee so she can cradle your cheek in one of her big hands. "You don't want the bird?"
"I do," You say," But...I don't want you to feel bad if you can't get it in."
"Trust me," Mary says," I just want to make you happy."
You look into her eyes, searching for any hint of untruthfulness in them but you find none. You nod. "You should move slightly to the left," You say," And spread your fingers out a little more."
"Thanks, birdie."
She does as you've said and shoots.
The ball goes in and Mary breathes out a sigh of relief, already leaning over the counter to talk to the poor minimum wage worker that's had to sit through all her attempts.
"Yeah," She says," The bird. The blue one. Up top. Yeah, that one."
He has to get a big stick with a hook on the end to get it off and Mary takes it from him triumphantly.
She presents it to you and you gently stroke your hand over the fur.
She's still holding it but you bypass your new favourite toy completely, moving to hug her as tightly as you can.
"Thank you, Mummy."
Mary tries not to let you finally saying the 'm' word affect her, forcing back the tears that want to fall as she hugs you back, raining kisses onto the top of your hair.
"It was my pleasure, birdie."
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⋆˚࿔ clothing prompts 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
¹⁾ baggy blue jeans
²⁾ mismatched socks
³⁾ a wrinkled grey button-down
⁴⁾ patterned pyjama pants
⁵⁾ a borrowed hoodie
⁶⁾ a long, flowing skirt
⁷⁾ beaten track shoes
⁸⁾ a boonie hat
⁹⁾ a football jersey
¹⁰⁾ a weathered kitchen apron
¹¹⁾ a soft, expensive hotel dressing gown
¹²⁾ laddered black tights
¹³⁾ strong combat boots
¹⁴⁾ a poorly-knitted blue scarf
¹⁵⁾ black boxer briefs
¹⁶⁾ a green tie
¹⁷⁾ grey sweatpants
¹⁸⁾ tartan pyjama pants
¹⁹⁾ a knitted jumper with loose threads
²⁰⁾ a red sports bra
²¹⁾ a miniskirt
²²⁾ a pink whale tail
²³⁾ a loose graphic t-shirt
²⁴⁾ a sports-branded cap
²⁵⁾ cargo pants
²⁶⁾ one single mitten
²⁷⁾ a balaclava
²⁸⁾ cheetah print leggings
²⁹⁾ a fake fur coat
³⁰⁾ heeled leather boots
³¹⁾ a wedding dress
³²⁾ a blue flannel shirt
³³⁾ black slacks
³⁴⁾ doctor’s scrubs
³⁶⁾ a sleek, tailored suit
³⁷⁾ a white lace bralette
³⁸⁾ jorts
³⁹⁾ a cocktail dress
⁴⁰⁾ a torn wifebeater
⁴¹⁾ a biker’s leather cut
⁴²⁾ a silk singlet
⁴³⁾ a bloodstained uniform
⁴⁴⁾ gaa shorts
⁴⁵⁾ a leather belt with a silver buckle
⁴⁶⁾ a cheap costume feather boa
⁴⁷⁾ rolled up shirtsleeves
⁴⁸⁾ a little black dress
⁴⁹⁾ a polo shirt
⁵⁰⁾ a birthday suit
#mayhaps some outfits prompts would be cool too? idk. can you tell i’ve been enduring the hell of winter clothes shopping lately or no#prompts#clothing prompts#clothing writing prompts#prompt list#writing prompts#writing exercise#rp meme#otp prompts#fluff prompts#soft prompts#imagine your otp#otp writing
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