#college fan fiction

[attapullman]

Bob From Stats | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: f!reader, smut, 18+ ONLY as always, dry humping, alcohol, drunken party games, mentions of studying because that gives me PTSD, semi-exaggerated Greek life for theatrical reasons

A Note From Mo: Somehow my frat!Bob, drunk Bob is Rhett, and 7 minutes in heaven ideas all rolled into one fic - wild! Massive shoutout to everyone who listened to me talk about Stats Bob (who is now officially my #2 Bob, I love him) and for supporting this here lil blog. May you find a hobby-horse-wielding future WSO to sweep you off your feet too!

“I hate this. I’m going to quit school and become a stripper.”

Anna gives you a wry look. “That joke was only funny the first time you said it.”

“So you admit I’m funny!”

The two of you have been spread out in the library the majority of the evening. Textbooks, snacks, and highlighters littering the glossy dark wood. You’re on hour five of assignments and your brain is pounding against the front of your skull. Your other classes aren’t too bad, a bit time consuming, but Statistics is a foreign language. Thinking in probable numbers? It was one thing when the nice guy who sat behind you helped explain concepts, but Anna does not have quite the same analytical mind.

The sky outside is an inky black and the library is quiet except for your frustrated huffs. It’s Saturday night. The rest of campus is indulging in cheap beers at Barney’s, slinking along Greek Row, or enjoying tonight’s episode of Saturday Night Live. It’s time to get out of here and crawl into your soft bed. Torturing yourself with Stats homework will be just as painful on Sunday.

“If I buy us a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough, can we blow this off and hang out back at the dorms?” Anna is nodding before you’ve even finished. Stuffing notebooks into backpacks and capping pens low on ink, you’re strolling down the library stairs not even five minutes later.

As the balmy evening campus air hits your face, you already feel fresher. Campus is quiet, late enough that most people are settled into their Saturday night plans. As the two of you near Greek Row, there’s a comfortable silence as you appreciate the breeze through the trees and the warm glow of campus housing windows.

That is, until a low whoop rings out. An undercurrent of boisterous cheering and what sounds like stomping feet. You exchange eyes with your roommate. What is that?

As if summoned, a group comes galloping through the neatly trimmed cypress trees around the corner. They’re stomping their feet in a rhythm, hands held mid-air to imitate holding reigns. Drunken laughs ring out between cries of “Whoa!” and “Steady there, Lucky!” To round it off, the leader of their horse play (literally) is full-on cosplaying as a cowboy, his jeans tucked into boots and a Stetson perched atop his head. 

Wait, is he holding a hobby horse? It’s been decades since you’ve seen those horse heads stuck on a stick. The stuffed felt Appaloosa head is reigned in the cowboy’s hands, where he pretends to spur it back into action. 

Just when you think you’ve seen it all.

The group continues its way toward you and you’re equally secondhand embarrassed and amused. As they grow closer you recognize a few guys from the Pi Kapp house and wave. But it’s Anna who makes the most shocking discovery when Mr. Cowboy tilts his brim up.

"Is that Bob from Stats?" 

It takes a second to look past the brown felt hat and the hobby horse he's taking for a spin, but that's definitely the same pink-cheeked Bob Floyd who has lent you a pencil all semester. 

“Howdy, ladies.” He tips his hat to you, all toothy grin and droopy drunk eyes. "Can I offer you a ride?"

You stare open-mouthed. Shocked. That slow rancher drawl is new. The unbridled confidence is new. Actually, the entire getup is new. For nine weeks you’ve seen him in the same trucker hat and sweatshirt combo while going over homework answers together. What is going on?

He’s clearly in the middle of his house party crawl, bright blue eyes half open behind his metal frames. Just as gorgeous as ever as a tendril of sandy hair curls against his forehead. Normally your reaction to him is tender, a puppy dog crush. But this wild, inebriated version of him? You’re hot under the collar.

“You think there’s room on your horse?” Ever since that first Stats class he’s made your brain feel like it’s on RedBull. The way he noticed you missing a writing utensil and offering you his extra. His kind smile when you get a homework answer completely wrong. Anna hasn’t noticed your crush, but it feels obvious with the way you can barely keep eye contact with him yet are unable to look away. Especially with that stupid cowboy hat on.

He bites his lip, considering your response, and his buddies all razz him as he drawls out, “There will be if we squeeze in.”

The wink makes your mouth dry.

Someone from the back of the group complains of the cold and the group prepares their steeds to head back to Pi Kapp. Anna explains you’re headed back to the dorms, tone deaf to the sexual tension, and Bob nods with his brow furrowed. 

“Another time then.” His white tshirt practically glows in the moonlight. “Have a good night, chickadees. Get home safe!”

With another tip of his Stetson to you, Bob Floyd gallops away toward another keg. 

You’re sprinting across campus, cursing how late your meeting with your advisor went. There was ten minutes to get across campus and he had spent four of those questioning whether you really needed another semester of French. You make it into the lecture hall with a minute to spare, finding your preferred spot in the lower rows where you can actually see the board. Right in front of Bob.

“What? No cowboy hat for class?” His cheeks flame red, the hope you’ve forgotten about his Saturday antics lost. He looks like himself today, his signature trucker cap keeping the hair off his face. Those friendly ultramarine eyes shyly focusing on his notebook because god forbid he makes eye contact after you’ve seen him gallop across campus on a fake horse. 

He rubs the back of his neck over his soft-looking crewneck, an awkward smile playing on his lips. “It’s at the cleaners.”

You give him an amused grin before settling yourself into one of the classically uncomfortable lecture seats. Anna waves to you from where she’s rushing in, historically always late. The professor is shuffling notes at the podium as she collapses into the seat next to you, nodding her head in greeting to you and to Bob. She raises her eyebrows to you, a “remember when Bob was dressed as a cowboy” gesture, and your lips twist happily. 

“Alright, class, who’s ready to talk probability?” The collective groans and hollers mark the start of lecture. You flip open your notebook and start digging around for a writing instrument in your bag. Like usual, you seem to be missing a pen or pencil when you need one most.

A tap on your shoulder. You turn and lock eyes with the frat boy-turned-cowboy with the shy smile. He holds out a pencil to you. Taking it sheepishly, you mouth a thank you and turn back to lecture. After nine weeks it shouldn’t be this embarrassing, but every week he’s given you a pencil since you whispered shoot! a little too loud on Week 1.

Risking a quick glance back at him, engrossed in the Empirical Law of Averages while he twirls his pencil, you’re not sure you can survive the rest of the semester.

By the end of the Stats lecture on Thursday, you have one brain cell to your name and seven pages of notes. What a brutal class. Midterms were quickly approaching and not a single professor had any mercy. As you pack up your stuff - including the borrowed pencil that would promptly disappear before next class - you make a study plan with Anna for that evening. She brings the chips, you’ll supply the vodka.

“Are you two not hitting the houses tonight?” He looks uncomfortable having interrupted the two of you.

Bob shifts his backpack to his other shoulder, adjusting the collar of his navy blue sweatshirt. Other than when he’s kindly exchanged homework answers before class - or been drunkenly galloping across campus - the two of you don’t speak much. The odd quip here and there, but overall the two of you exist in pencil-sharing quiet. “Everyone’s having pre-midterm parties before buckling down to study.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!” You look at Anna encouragingly. As needed as a vodka-infused study session was, one night out couldn’t hurt. And it was Thursday. No classes tomorrow meant you had three days to buckle down and attempt to understand anything you’ve learned this semester. 

She eyes you warily, but agrees that Greek Row sounds like a better option than highlighting textbooks. Bob flashes you his timid smile beneath the brim of his cap. “It’ll be a fun night. Maybe I’ll see you? If not, have a good weekend!” 

As he starts to walk out, a feeling takes over you. “Bob?” You watch him slow down and turn, wide blue eyes watching you from behind those unconventionally cute glasses. “You’ll be at the Pi Kapp house, yeah?” He nods. “Cool. See you around!”

Despite standing next to it the entire conversation, neither of you notice the pencil sitting on the desk, left behind as you head out for your respective weekends.

“What did you say?” You’re practically yelling to be heard over the EDM that Sigma Chi is blaring. They’ve turned their house into a rave with glow sticks, body paint, and music so loud your eardrums must be burst. The beer is warm, your arm has supernaturally purple paint smeared across it, and Anna has been unsuccessfully telling you a story for ten minutes.

Huffing, she grabs your arm and drags you toward the entrance, tossing your cups onto a random hallway table where a heated makeout session is taking place. They move out of the way just enough so the two of you can slip out of the old colonial house and out into the cool night. The ringing in your ears subsides slowly as you lean against the columns of the front porch. 

“House number three? Also sucked. Three strikes and you’re out? Can we go home?” Anna grabs your wrist and pouts. She wanted movie night with vodka and a pizza from Pietro’s. You wanted to blow off steam.

But Alpha Sig had mostly been freshman and Phi Delt, while not a terrible party, had the most smarmy men on campus. The bleeding eardrums of Sigma Chi was preferable to pushing off men in polos just to grab another drink. You just wanted a semi-decently flavored alcoholic beverage - maybe three - while chatting with some friends. You weren’t asking for much.

Allowing Anna to drag you in the direction of the dorms, ready to admit defeat, you slow to a stop seeing the bricked entrance to Pi Kappa Phi. Bob’s fraternity. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt, right?

It takes a little convincing, but soon you’re in the warmly lit foyer of the Pi Kapp house. The vibe is more relaxed than Sigma Chi, with a keg in the corner, an array of liquor bottles in the kitchen, and hip-hop softly filling the house. You’re impressed they’ve even gone the extra mile with multi-colored string lights across every surface to brighten up the otherwise dark house. 

“Yooooo, how’s it going?” A drunken loaf of snapback and Deep Eddy envelopes you in a hug. It’s Tyler, one of your freshman seminar PK friends. Exchanging pleasantries - the best you can with someone that far gone - he drags you further into the house. Miscellaneous groups of Greek and geed litter the hallways. Anna sees her friends from Delta Gamma and ditches you, promising to get home safe. Tyler continues on his mission to god knows where.

At least he’s considerate enough to stop in the kitchen so you can grab a whiskey lemonade to sip.

Eventually you’re spat into a sitting room of sorts, groups crowding the ring of sofas while drunkenly jeering at the game. You set yourself on the arm of one, trying to make sense of the theatrics. The latest victim laughs out a “Truth!” before everyone giggles wickedly. Are they playing truth or dare? 

Your eyes gloss over the group, trying to figure out who else you know. A few PK’s you recognize, a girl who smiles but looks unfamiliar, and…a cowboy hat that is a dead giveaway.

Standing up and walking around the group, you tap him on the shoulder. The biggest blue eyes meet yours, a surprised smile splitting his face. 

“You made it!” That deep drawl is back and that tingle reappears on your spine. Bob jumps up from the couch, beer bottle dwarfed in his hand, and comes to stand with you. “You having a good night?”

Ironically, your night is much better now that you’ve found him. He’s back in his cowboy gear, a worn denim shirt tucked into his jeans and those same cowboy boots scuff against the hardwood. You’re tempted to steal the felt hat from his head just so he looks a little bit more like Bob from Stats. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, letting the alcohol be an excuse, you succumb to the obvious question. “I need to know - what’s with the…cowboy?” You gesture up and down, drawing a chuckle from him.

He blushes under the felt brim. “You know I have a slight accent, yeah?” You attempt to stifle your laugh as he incidentally talks in a thicker accent. “When I was a pledge they started calling me cowboy. Saw the hat while I was in town one week, ended up leaning into the joke.”

“And the hobby horse?”

He beckons you closer, bringing his lips to your ear. “Stolen from my little sister over summer break.”

There’s that wink again making your knees weak. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and takes another sip from his beer. Despite the party raging around you, nothing else seems to exist past him asking about your night and if you want another drink. You’re wrapped in the warmth of his words, itching to snuggle into his broad chest. 

The spell is broken when “Cowboy Bob!” rings out from the crowd. The entire room is turned to you two. “Truth or dare, man?”

In the background of your intimate conversation with Bob, the truths and dares have reached full raunchiness. People have been stripped of clothes and dirty secrets. A bead of sweat gathers at Bob’s collar, aware that neither option is safe. 

His worried gaze flits to you, as if you hold the correct answer, before tipping his hat back and exhaling, “Dare?” 

It’s gutsy, but if there’s one thing you’re learning about the quiet guy from Stats, he’s full of surprises. The crowd bubbles with excitement, anticipating what dare will be dealt out. Next to you, the wannabe cowboy looks more annoyed than anything. He was enjoying talking to you not in a classroom and with a little liquid courage.

An evil smile crosses the dare-dealer’s face. He knows Bob and isn’t blind to what’s going on. He’s gonna help his buddy out on this one.

His arm stretches out and he points (with the red plastic cup in his hand) to the coat closet at the end of the hall. “Hmmmmm, I dare you to, hmm, play Seven Minutes in Heaven with…” It’s no surprise when the cup-turned-pointer lands on you.

Ice water down your back wouldn’t be as panic inducing. It’s hard to tell who swallows harder, you or Cowboy Bob. Every instinct is telling you to run, but that little voice in the back of your head wins out. As Bob starts to tell you it’s okay, they’re joking, you don’t have to, you grab his thick wrist and give him a nervous smile. You don’t even care what the punishment is for not completing a dare, this stupid drunken game has given you an opportunity.

The dealer of the dare follows the two of you down the hallway, leading the whoops and wolf whistles. Bob’s cheeks flame scarlet in the low light. You keep your chin high and eyes forward. He can definitely feel the way you’re trembling around his wrist.

Whether in anxiety or excitement it’s hard to tell.

The inside of the closet is dark, the faint light under the door casting only the faintest of shadows. Your heart is pounding, blood pulsing through your ears. Bob rubs his lips together nervously. It’s all you can do to not run your tongue along them. 

“We don’t have to do anything, we can just talk.” The way he prioritizes your comfort makes heat pool between your legs. The brim of his hat is as far back as it can go, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as he gauges your emotions. He’s welcome to figure them out, you’re unsure of them yourself. 

His large, warm hand rubs your forearm comfortingly, your skin too cold without his touch. You’re suffocating under his sweat-and-bergamot scent, citrusy and warm.

You bite the bullet. “What if I want to?”

His breath stops. Fingers find yours in the dark, interlocking on either side of your hips. Eyes you know are the deepest blue lock onto your gaze, a million emotions passing behind his irises. Face descending upon the space between you, tentatively showing his intentions. You meet him in the middle, caution out the window.

The kiss is gentle, puzzle pieces slotting together for the first time. He tastes like malt sugar and peppermint. Mouth warm and soft, enveloping you fully in his comfort. It’s even better than what you’ve imagined for the past nine weeks.

Bob begins to pull away, ever the gentleman. Your hand finds his collar, holding him in place. “Not yet, we still have, like, five and a half minutes.”

Despite the low light, his smile lights up the closet.

His lips return to yours in a rush, swallowing your mouth in a passionate heat. The press of his body to yours is delicious. Hands previously at your side meet your hips, lightly squeezing as you moan into his mouth. You reach up and hold the back of his neck, bringing him even closer as your lips toy with the tiniest bit of stubble along his jaw.

“You know,” he starts, holding the moan in the back of his throat. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since September.”

You pull back momentarily, a crinkle upon your brow. “Bob, we didn’t start Stats until January.”

He kisses the confusion from your face, his hands wrapping further around your body. “And you looked very pretty in that green dress at the homecoming barbecue.”

Bless your love of school spirit and free food. “Why didn’t you? Kiss me?”

“I don’t normally make a habit of kissing girls I don’t know. And clearly it takes an entire fraternity for me to get you alone.” The way his chuckle bounces against your skin has you squirming. Your schoolgirl crush on him wasn’t one-sided, and suddenly you’re hot for teacher. 

You capture him in another kiss, tongue searching the seam of his lips for entrance. He obliges immediately, groaning as you explore his taste. Four hands roam skin, finding purchase in anything and everything. Your body has a mind of its own as you press against him, chest heaving with your passion. The right shift of fabric on fabric reveals that he’s equally as affected by the chemistry.

Reluctantly, he pulls away once more, threading his fingers across the back of your neck. Takes a moment to capture his breath as he sees the lust in your eyes. A deep breath. “As much as I like you, I don’t want to do anything if you’re drunk.”

Soft fingers follow the line of his arm to where it wraps around your waist. How is he this impossibly sweet? Thoughtful, respectful, and looking hot as sin with swollen lips. It’s unfair.

“I promise I’m not.” You stroke the back of his hand. “Please kiss me?”

His large hands unwrap from your waist and travel down, shifting behind your legs and pulling you up, resting your back against the wall. You tangle your legs around his waist as best you can in the small space, relishing his firm body pressed deliciously close, warm and solid. Kisses smeared across lips and jaws as noises crescendo. You’re panting as you trail down to his impossibly long neck, desperate to cover it in affection.

You’ve barely explored the expanse of skin when the door flies open, the boisterous party sounds flooding in. Reality strikes like a slap across the face. The truth-or-dare ringleader takes you in - legs wrapped around Bob and hands creeping toward your ass - and whoops in delight. Who knew Cowboy Bob had it in him!

“Time’s up, lovebirds!” He crows and reaches forward to slug Bob lightly on the shoulder. 

Not skipping a beat, Bob shoves his friend back and throws up his middle finger. “Fuck off, Milburn.” 

The closet door slams shut, blanketing you again in the intimacy of the moment. You’re looking at him with unsure eyes and he’s praying the moment hasn’t been ruined. He’s waited seven calendar months for this opportunity and his fingers are so close to enjoying the plump squeeze of your ass.

“We can go back to the party if you want?” Your voice is so small, nervous outside of those bold seven minutes. Tentative breaths exist between you. 

In lieu of an answer, he bows his head to give you a searing yet gentle kiss.

That cramped coat closet suddenly is an inferno, his tongue slipping inside your mouth and groaning at the burning sweetness of your taste. Your hands grip his shoulders as you fight for dominance, fingers tangling in denim. Hips brushing together, still clinging to the idea of this being innocent. 

An innocence immediately lost when Bob strikes up the courage and palms your ass. Soft and pliable and perfect to squeeze in his palms. He remembers the exact day you came to class in the tightest jeans known to man (laundry day) and the way he had dug his pencil in his palm to avoid a semi as your curved ass met the lecture seat. Something unavoidable now as you squirm against him, moaning your pleasure against the pulse in his neck.

Nothing has ever felt as good as rubbing against Bob Floyd’s clothed bulge. One glance down and you’re dizzy with arousal. Rutting yourself against him as best you can with your limited mobility, sloppy kisses exchanged as the two of you can barely keep your mouths closed. It feels so good, too good. 

Lost in the moment, one hand slips below the hem of your skirt, warm skin on skin. Any noise from outside the closet dims to a hum. Two hearts beating rapidly as desire fully consumes, directing lips to too hot exposed skin. You murmur your need in his ear. You don’t care where you are, you need him.

Bob tucks a finger under your thong, feeling the slick coating your folds. The whine that leaves him is desperate and gruff. He groans against your throat. “Shit, I don’t have a condom.”

Undeterred, your lip catches between your teeth, core muscles contracting as you grind your hips forward. “Doesn’t mean I can’t go for a ride.”

He’s immediately on board, teasing you briefly before extricating his hand to support you better against the wall. His hands practically swallow your ass, flooding you with lust. You thrust your chest against him, desperate to touch every spot on his handsome body as your hips begin to grind. 

His hands are sweltering as they trail down, effortlessly clutching the back of your thighs to give you leverage. Your clit finds friction against his jeans and your mouth hangs open as you buck frantically into him.

“Look at you move, cowgirl,” he breathes out, infatuated. The nickname spurrs you on, whimpering against his lips.

One hand clutching his bicep, holding on for desperate life, while the other snakes its way atop the damned cowboy hat that’s stayed on the entire encounter. Gripping the top of it and holding fast as you ride his clothed bulge with everything you’ve got. Denim and lace against your clit, rubbing deliciously as your brain fuzzes. His hot mouth focused at the hinge of your jaw, sucking soft bruises into the skin; moaning when you brush him just right. 

“I’m close,” you whisper against his cheek. Time has stood still, but it’s embarrassing how close he’s gotten you to orgasm with just his clothed cock and strong hands. 

He ruts his hips forward, meeting your thrusts in heavenly synchronization. You’re panting as the pressure on your clit catapults you, so close to the ultimate prize. Whispers of you can do it, cowgirl, cum for me, doing so good riding me, just a bit more, cowgirl fizzle your senses. 

“O-oh!”

It’s intense, the blinding pleasure coursing through your body. Prolonged by the thick bulge still rutting against you, ready to burst itself. Lips tickling your ear as he praises you. You want to live in this perfect moment of bliss. A moment only perfected when Bob’s fingers grip too hard and his hips stutter up into yours. His all-consuming orgasm only muffled by the skin of your shoulder as he rides it out. 

The rhythmic slowing of your breaths is all you can focus on. You breathe in, he breathes out. Small smiles and a blush barely visible in the low light. 

Delicately, like he knows you might break, he releases you back to the ground; taking his time to smooth down your skirt and straight out your top. Your own hands reach up to his chest, fixing the fabric that had bunched up in your passion. Adjusting his fogged glasses to look into his beautiful eyes.

It doesn’t matter how much you clean up, one look at you two and anyone would comment you’ve been ridden hard and put away wet.

With one final kiss to your lips, you feel something land on your head. The brown cowboy hat with the rip along the edge. Cowboy Bob showing off his cowgirl.

You tentatively open the closet door, eyes adjusting to the normal light. Painfully aware of the wet splotch on the obvious front of his jeans, Bob holds your body against him as a human shield. The party is still going strong - your antics have not interrupted anything - and you slip toward the front door without notice. Well…mostly, as a few wolf whistles reach your ears.

“It’s not that late, you want to go back to mine? I’m just off Thornton. It’s quiet since everyone is here.” His eyes are so hopeful in the dark night. So desperate for you to say yes. For you to be his cowgirl beyond tonight.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him close, careful to avoid the spot where your bodily fluids have drenched his jeans. “I’m in.” Your smile is blinding. “We have about nine weeks of Stats to make up.”

The brick is uncomfortable behind your back, but it’s hard to care when his lips feel so good. Broad shoulders shielding you from the hallway, trucker hat turned around and glasses in his pocket so there’s not an inch between your faces. Agreeing to meet outside before lecture was such a good idea.

Despite spending most of the time between Thursday night and Tuesday afternoon in Bob’s apartment trying every position in the book (with teasing hollers from his Pi Kapp roommates adding to the soundtrack) you can’t help but steal these five minutes. He looks so cute, to not kiss him would be a crime.

Bob squeezes your hips, lips trailing down your jaw. “What’s on your mind, cowgirl?”

“I’m trying very hard to convince myself that we pay a lot of money to attend this school and should go learn about statistics. Even though I really only want to head back to my dorm and see how sturdy that loft bed is.”

From where his nose traces your ear, a guttural whine leaves him. “You can’t say something like that and expect me to go to class.”

You pull back to look at him, fingers tickling the close cropped hair at his neck. God, he makes it so hard to want to be responsible.

“Let’s make a deal, okay? We’ll go to class, learn, and tonight you come over and for every study guide question you get right I’ll take off a piece of clothing. Sound good?” He’s practically panting as he smothers your mouth in another kiss. He’s really good at Stats. A steady stream of students files past Bob’s back, a sign that class is about to start.

You press another kiss to his lips. “Let’s go or we’ll miss out on seats. Plus I need to dig through my bag for a pencil.”

“Do you think you actually have one today?” He smirks, amused. The eighteen pencils he’s lent you say otherwise.

Your cheeks are hot under where he kisses them. “Uh…if I don’t can I borrow one? If you have one, that is.”

He lets out a soft chuckle and holds you closer, rubbing your noses softly.

“You do realize I’ve been buying pencils all semester just to give to you, right?”

Turning his cap around - insides fully melted - you know you’re in this rodeo for the long run.

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[luminoustarlight]

Saccharine | Modern!Anakin Skywalker

What do you get when you mix a college Halloween party with beer and a pretty girl wearing a pirate costume?

A jealous Anakin Skywalker.

rating: explicit | pairing: anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 5.3k | read on ao3 warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, drinking, jealousy/possessiveness, SMUT [fingering, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected p in v, come eating/swallowing, mild degradation, like a really brief moment of lactation kink(???)]

the lovely @queenie-official asked for someone to write anakin and reader at a halloween party and anakin gets jealous. i have no idea where 5.3k words came from but y'all i love this one!

and i dedicate this to @hanasnx because we were talking about how we would suck anakin's dick every day if we could.

Here’s the thing about Halloween parties— or rather, Halloween and parties.

Anakin hates both of them. Halloween is a stupid holiday where girls wear short skirts, low-cut tank tops, and a pair of generic animal ears and call it a “costume”. Then they complain about being cold and ask for your jacket. It’s fucking October in New York, what do they expect? 

As for parties, Anakin has never liked them. He’s not a particularly social person. Hell, he’s not even that pleasant of a person but he somehow wound up with you as his best friend in college. He’s the grumpy to your sunshine. He’s a pessimist, you’re an optimist. He drinks black coffee, you like it full of syrupy caramel. He hates everything you like and you don’t understand any of the things he finds fascinating.

The logistics of your friendship is complicated. You don’t know why Anakin is the easiest person for you to talk to even though you have just about nothing in common. You don’t know why Anakin chooses to spend all of his time with you, even though there are other girls in his engineering classes who would kill to talk to him about their shared major. 

You don’t know why he holds your hand when you walk through Central Park while telling you about his hookups. (You wish he wouldn’t talk about other girls with you but you just like the sound of his voice so you do your best at drowning out the meaning of the words). 

If only he knew how miserable it makes you feel to hear about his dating life. If only you knew how difficult it is for you to do the same because every single guy is lack-luster compared to Anakin.    

“I hate parties,” Anakin states. He’s tossing a baseball— the foul ball he caught for you at a Yankees game— in the air to keep his hands busy.

“Yeah, but you love me,” you reply while taking a cream flowy blouse out of your closet. 

“Not if you make me go to this stupid Halloween party with you.” 

You roll your eyes and rest your shirt hanger on one of the knobs on your dresser. You catch the baseball midair and flop beside Anakin on your bed. He props up on an elbow and you just want to soothe the crease between his eyebrows. “Pleaaaase, Ani?” 

“No.” 

“Oh, c’mon! When’s the last time you did something for me?” 

“Look around, sweetheart,” Anakin gestures his arm out lazily. “I helped you move into this place.” 

You huff. “Okay, fine. But you offered. And if I recall correctly, I supplied you with all of the coffee and bagels your heart desired.” 

“There’s only one thing my heart desires.” A lopsided grin forms on Anakin’s lips as his fingers brush against your elbow. It’s a barely there type of touch, one you might not even notice if it weren’t for the sparks you feel every time you and Anakin make contact. 

You fail to mask the sharp intake of air that passes through your teeth. “Wh-what’s that?” 

Anakin runs his tongue over his bottom lip and you think maybe, maybe he just might say what you want him to say. Your heart expands with hope as you await his answer with a bated breath. “To not go to a fucking Halloween party.” 

And just like that, your hope deflates. Of course he wasn’t being serious. Why does his blatant disinterest in you make tears threaten behind your eyes? Is your affectionate friendship really so common that it doesn’t mean anything to him?   

You quickly stand up from your bed and distract yourself by finding the skirt you want to wear in your pile of clothes on the floor. You clear your throat and rapidly blink back any tears before they fall down your cheeks. “Fine,” you say as you find your skirt. “I don’t want you there anyway. It’s the senior Halloween party and I’m not going to miss it because of you.”

“Fine,” Anakin says back. “Go. I don’t care.” 

You gather your clothes in your arms and stand at the foot of your bed. “I have to get dressed first.” 

“So?” Anakin is back to throwing the baseball in the air. Oh, you hate him so much sometimes. You swat the ball out of the air so it lands on Anakin’s stomach, making him groan and his legs curl up to his chest. “Ow.” 

 “So, get out,” you instruct. 

“Jeez. Alright, alright.” Anakin slowly gets up from your bed, being the overly dramatic douche you had to fall in love with. “What, they didn’t put enough sugar in your coffee this morning?” 

“Out!” you point to your door. You’re fuming with him. Why does he have to be so fucking difficult? At this point, you don’t even want to go to the party but you’ll go anywhere to get away from him. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 

You take a good thirty minutes to get ready for the party. Inspired by a recent rewatch of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, you decided to dress up as a pirate. You didn’t have to buy a shirt or skirt, which helped keep the cost down. You did purchase a corset, hat, and knee high boots from a thrift store in Brooklyn. With the crimson scarf you’ve had since freshman year wrapped around your waist, you’re set. 

Anakin waits for you on your aubergine couch in your living room. Why he’s waiting, you’re unsure. He’s stretched across the entire length of the couch, his long legs hanging over the armrest. Upon hearing your boots scuff across the floor, he quickly locks his phone and stands from the couch. 

“What are you still doing here?” you brush past him and into the kitchen. 

“I changed my mind,” Anakin replies, following you. You don’t notice the way he looks you up and down, soaking in the entire image of you. The scoopy neckline of your shirt, the flounce of your brown skirt, and the tightness of the corset. The only thing he’s disappointed by is the length of your skirt. It’s not short enough. 

Still, there’s no way he’s letting you go to the party alone. Somebody has to pretend to be your protective boyfriend to keep the college douchebags away. “I’m going with you.” 

You turn around without realizing how close Anakin is to you. You practically step on his toes. He looms over you and you fear he might actually hear your heart racing with how close he is. You back away, straightening your skirt for no other reason than to not look at Anakin. “Are you, now?” 

“Yes.” Anakin crosses his arms. “Are you ready?” 

“You’re going like that?” You counter. “In a zip-up Yankees hoodie?” 

“Take it or leave it, sweetheart.” 

You hate him. You love him. You hate that you love him because you know he doesn’t feel the same way. At least not in a romantic way. You grab a banana off of the counter and march toward the door. “I’d rather leave you here.” 

“Not an option.” Anakin closes your door and uses his key to lock it. The act of him using the key you gave him for emergencies makes your insides twist. It’s on a ring with his own apartment key, as if he’d need yours as frequently as he needs his own. 

You walk down the hallway with a quick pace and make a point to stomp down the stairs, even if it annoys your neighbors more than Anakin. “You’re being exceptionally annoying today.” 

“Thank you,” Anakin accepts the insult as if it’s a compliment. He holds the lobby door open for you and a rush of late October air attacks your skin. You have to hold your hat on your head so it doesn’t blow away. You make an effort not to shudder in front of Anakin, knowing how much he hates girls being unprepared for the weather. At least you’re wearing long sleeves. But it’s not not like the fabric was made to keep the Autumn chill out. 

The party is only a couple of blocks away in Hell’s Kitchen and you’re determined to stay silent all the way there. You’ll just eat your banana and pray Anakin isn’t in a rare talking mood. 

“Why are you walking so fucking fast? I have longer legs than you and I’m practically running.” 

You ignore him. You just want to go to the party, have a couple of drinks, maybe flirt with some guys you have no intentions of screwing, and then go home. Preferably without the puppy dog currently following you. 

“So. Pirate. Interesting choice. You got a thing for Jack Sparrow or something?” Why does he never have anything interesting to say when you actually want to talk to him? Now he can’t seem to shut up. 

Just one more block. Why did he change his mind? Why couldn’t he just be content with going back to his apartment and finding someone to hook up with? You’re sure that’s what he was doing while you were getting ready. The way he locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket when he heard you come out of your room. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like you two are dating or anything. He doesn’t have to hide his booty calls from you. 

“I see what you’re doing,” Anakin jogs in front of you and starts walking backwards. “You’re ignoring me.” 

You give him a look that has “No shit, Sherlock” written all over it. 

“Y’know I don’t like being ignored. I’m too sensitive.” 

You have to laugh. “You? Sensitive?” 

“Ha!” Anakin points at you. “Gotcha.” 

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “We’re here, anyway. I know you’re just gonna find a corner and sulk in it so please, just let me have a good time tonight.” 

“Alright,” Anakin surrenders. You walk into the brick building together, the heavy bass of the music thrumming through your bones. “But just one thing.” 

You raise your brows, waiting for him to continue. “You look beautiful tonight.” 

Your heart skips a beat and you hate how easily he makes you swoon. How easily your feelings of irritation disappear after one compliment. “Just tonight?” 

“Ah- what?” Anakin looks at you quizzically. Perhaps he didn’t hear you over the booming music and chatter. 

“Never mind!” you shout. “I’m gonna get a drink. You want a beer?” 

“Sure,” Anakin shrugs. You nod and skip off without another word. When you don’t come back after twenty minutes, Anakin starts to worry. It doesn’t matter how many girls have come up to him and batted their lashes at him. It doesn’t matter that he has 11 unread messages from several past hookups waiting for him on his phone. What matters is that you’re alone at a college party with booze and guys who get a little too handsy when they’re drunk. 

He pushes himself through the crowd, not an ounce of care that he’s severely undressed and out of place. Actually, he’s overdressed. He didn’t know the fire marshal could allow so many shirtless ‘Gladiators’ in one building. And here he thought only girls used Halloween as an excuse not to wear anything. He bumps into several people on his quest for you. 

“Hey, man! Watch it!” 

“Yo, dickhead, you made me spill my beer!” 

“What are you supposed to be? A sad Yankees fan?” 

Anakin hardly hears any of it. Actually, everything seems to fall silent when he spots you. Every other body blurs as he focuses on you and your hand on the forearm of some guy dressed as Captain Kirk from Star Trek. At least he has a goddamn shirt on. It doesn't make the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach disappear, though. You know why? It’s because you’re throwing your head back with laughter. Real, genuine laughter. What is this guy saying to you? And why hasn’t Anakin made you laugh like that recently? 

When the familiar figure of Anakin approaches you, you instantly feel bad. You forgot to bring him his beer! And then you realize that you actually handed it to the guy you’re talking to. Oops? 

“Ani! I never brought you your beer! I am so sorry. I got distracted talking to- oh my God, I don’t even know your name!” 

“Oh, uh, Jeff,” the guy tilts his beer bottle toward you and smiles. You smile back and tell him your name. You also introduce Anakin, but he’s not feeling very friendly right now. He’s too busy criticizing the way Captain Kirk introduced himself. 

Oh, uh, Jeff? He had to think about his name? He couldn’t just say Jeff? 

“Jeff and I were talking about baseball. He’s a Mets fan, though,” you fake gag. “I told him about the foul ball you practically saved me from. Whew, my life flashed before my eyes.” 

“Yeah, they come out of nowhere when you’re not paying attention.” 

Anakin hates this guy. He fucking hates him. His fists clench by his side before sidling up next to you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist. You stumble when he pulls you toward him. “She was paying attention. Are you implying that she wasn’t watching the game?” 

“Anakin, it’s fine,” you place your hand on Anakin’s chest to calm him. “I’m sure that’s not what Jeff meant.” 

“Yeah, man, not at all. I’ve had a couple of close calls myself.” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve been hit in the head a couple of times with the way you introduced yourself,” Anakin spits. “Who has to think about their name? ‘Oh, um, I can’t remember. I think my name is Jeff,’” Anakin mocks.  

“Anakin, stop,” you try pushing away from him. “You’re being incredibly rude.” 

“I don’t care,” he replies. He begins ushering you away from Walmart Captain Kirk. “We’re leaving.” 

“Seriously, Anakin,” you manage to slither out of Anakin’s grasp. “Stop it.” 

“Hey, is this guy bothering you?” Jeff puffs out his chest. 

Anakin steps in front of you and squares himself in front of the guy with no chance with you. “Funny, I was going to ask her the same thing about you.” 

“Are you her boyfriend or something?” 

“He’s not-” you begin, standing on your toes to talk over Anakin’s shoulder. 

“Something like that,” Anakin answers. Huh? 

“Whatever,” Jeff scoffs. “Thanks for wasting my time.” 

“Wait, Jeff!” you call. “It’s not like that-” 

“Let him go,” Anakin grits. “He’s not worth it.” 

You had almost forgotten about the frustration Anakin made you feel in your apartment. Now it’s all coming to the surface again. Yes, you feel bad for abandoning him and not bringing him his beer but he had no right to ruin your conversation like that. “Oh, and you are?”

“We’re not talking about this here.” Anakin turns and expects you to follow. You have half a mind not to scream at him in the middle of the party but it would be a waste of breath. He’s already nearing the door. You down the rest of your beer and follow Anakin out of the party and onto the street. 

It feels drastically colder outside but perhaps it’s all coming from Anakin’s stare. You stuff your hands beneath your arms in an attempt to keep them warm. “What the hell, Anakin? What was that all about?” 

“Nothing.” 

“I’m sorry, did you just say ‘nothing’? That was not nothing, Anakin. That was… that was…” you search for the word but your toes are starting to freeze. You don’t know how frozen toes correlate to not being able to think, but it does. The wind is biting at your legs and your teeth are chattering. 

“Jealousy?” Anakin fills in the blank. 

“Yes! Jealousy! Are you fucking jealous, Anakin?” 

“So what if I am?” 

You’re both shouting unnecessarily but you’re fucking pissed. This cannot be the way you admit your feelings for each other. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. It’s supposed to be romantic. It’s supposed to happen when you’re strolling through the park and the leaves are falling around you and you kiss and everything falls into place. It’s not supposed to happen during a screaming match on the sidewalk while you’re dressed like a historically inaccurate pirate. 

“So what if I feel like punching every single guy who talks to you? Or even look at you? Hm?” Anakin is backing you into the wall and you have no choice but to retreat. “I am jealous every fucking day. I feel possessive over you and I know I shouldn’t. You’re mine, even though you’re not.” Anakin has caged you in with his arms pressed against the wall above your head. His leg is nudged between yours and if you just lower yourself a tiny bit, you might feel a bit of friction where it’s needed. 

Anakin drops his head down so his nose brushes against your cheek. Your lips are so close, you can feel the warmth of his breath. “You never asked me,” you whisper. 

“What?” 

“You never asked me to be yours,” you unzip Anakin’s sweatshirt and slide your arms into the warmth of his jacket. You press yourself against his chest and you think perhaps everything is falling into place.

“Then I’m asking you now,” Anakin cradles your face in his hands. He runs his thumbs over your cheekbones and wonders why it took so damn long to finally get to this point. “Will you be mine?” 

“I already am.” You pull Anakin down to your lips by the collar of his sweatshirt. He tastes like Altoids and you taste like beer, which isn’t necessarily a pleasant combination but it doesn’t matter. Anakin’s lips are so plush and soft, everything you dreamed they’d be but better. They work against yours like it’s the only thing they’re made for. He’s groaning against you, slipping his tongue carefully past your lips. He’s not overzealous with it like some people are. It’s just perfect. He’s perfect. 

The heat in your core continues to grow and spread throughout your body, suddenly warming you up. “Anakin,” you murmur. 

“Hmm?” He replies, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. He pays attention to your neck—which smells of vanilla and everything nice— and is nibbling gently but kissing harshly. His hands have found their way to your breasts, massaging you through your bra and you just fucking wish he’d stop for a second because it’s all too distracting. 

“Anakin, stop,” you breathe out. 

“What? What, are you okay?” Anakin withdraws himself from you completely and you damn near whine at the loss of contact.

“I’m fine, Ani. More than fine.” 

Anakin relaxes at your assurance and takes a moment to admire you. Your hat is askew on your head and your shirt is crooked from him cupping with your boobs. He hopes the corset isn’t difficult to take off… 

“Anakin?” you snap your fingers in front of his face. 

“Huh?” 

“What are you thinkin’ about, pretty boy?” 

“So many things,” Anakin smirks.  

“Care to enlighten me at my apartment?” 

“Way ahead of you, babe.” Anakin whips out his phone and orders an Uber. He’s not walking five blocks back to your apartment with a hard-on. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 

You have no clue how either of you manage to keep your hands to yourself in the Uber, but you do. You hardly make it through your door before Anakin’s lips are back on yours with a heavy desperation. He throws your hat off, letting it land who knows where. His hand is on the back of your neck and you’re doing a clumsy dance around your living room. You’re tugging at the roots of his wavy hair, which he’s been growing out since last semester. 

You and Anakin are a mess of hands as you’re both trying to get the other’s clothes off with your mouths still attached to each other. He’s fumbling with the laces of your corset and you wonder how long it will take him to realize there’s a zipper in the back. 

You shrug off his sweatshirt, leaving him in a basic white tee. Anakin reluctantly breaks away from you when he accepts he’s getting nowhere with your corset. “This thing is fucking impossible,” he groans. 

You giggle as you draw the zipper down your back and remove the black corset from your body. You let it drop to the floor as you drape your arms around Anakin’s neck. “You were saying?” 

“I hate you,” Anakin says with a smile. 

“You love me.” 

“So much,” he replies, lips trailing down your neck once again. “I love you so much it consumes me. I’ve tried to fill this void inside of me with other women but it’s never enough. It’s not enough because they’re not you.”

You’re smiling so widely your cheeks hurt. You consume him. He loves you. You’ve never been happier. “I love you too, Anakin. You have no idea.”

“I have some idea,” he smiles. He grabs a fistful of your skirt and slips his hands beneath the hem to find your panties. “Are you going to let me take care of you tonight?” 

“Anything,” you nod, giving him the permission to remove your panties. You take off your boots and blouse and while it’s by no means a show, Anakin is enjoying every second of it. 

“I’ll let you do anything, Anakin.” You unclip your bra so all that you’re left in is your skirt. Anakin is still wearing a shirt and jeans, which is only mildly infuriating since his golden tan skin looks so radiant against the bright white of his shirt. 

As Anakin admires you, he can’t possibly be filled with any more lust than he is right now. Three years of pining after you is surging through his veins and his cock is insanely hard. He’s imagined this so many times. Would he fuck you slowly? Or maybe you’d rather have it fast and hard. Do you like to be called sweet things? Would you be his good girl? Or would you rather be his little slut? 

He’s overwhelmed with the incessant need to taste your cunt. “Get on the couch,” he instructs. “Take your skirt off, too. I want to see all of you.” 

You nod and once you’ve stepped out of the fabric, you situate yourself on your couch. Anakin kneels down in front of you and resists the urge to spread your legs open so he can see your pussy. “You have to take something off, too,” you say sweetly.  

Anakin swiftly tears his shirt over his head and you knew he was fit, but you just didn’t realize how fit. “Oh my God,” you practically drool. 

“Yeah?” Anakin smirks whilst hooking his arms beneath your thighs, pulling your ass to the edge of the couch. His cock strains against his jeans even more now that he can see your glistening pussy. “You like what you see, sweetheart?” 

You shrug. “Mm, yeah. It’s alright, I guess.” 

“You’re a little brat,” Anakin says before kissing up your thigh. The feather-light touch of his warm lips makes you wiggle. Your hand rests atop of Anakin’s head, fingers massaging his scalp in an effort to keep him traveling up to your core. “You’re lucky I can’t resist a pretty pussy like yours.” 

“Is it the prettiest?” 

Anakin lays a kiss on the inside of your other thigh. His nose brushes against your clit as he places a chaste kiss over your folds while running two fingers down your slit. “No doubt about it, babe,” Anakin praises. Fuck, you smell divine. He wants to spend all day between your thighs.  “The absolute prettiest. Bet you taste the sweetest, too.”

With that, Anakin dips a finger inside of you, making you gasp. “Fuck, sweetheart,” Anakin sucks in a breath. He lays his head on your thigh to watch his finger disappear inside of you and then reappear glistening with your juices. “How can you be this wet already? I’ve barely gotten started.” 

You roll your head along the couch cushions, impossibly worked up and craving more than just one of Anakin’s fingers. “Then show me what you’re made of, Skywalker.” 

Oh, that sends a jolt straight through Anakin’s cock. He wastes no more time teasing you and slips another finger into your hole while attaching his lips to your clit. He flicks the tip of his tongue over your bundle of nerves, two long fingers are curling against your walls, and Anakin can’t get enough. Pussy just tastes better when you love the person you’re eating out. It’s pure saccharine to him. He needs it pumped into his blood to survive. 

Anakin finesses his cock out of his pants and strokes himself several times to alleviate the terrible pain that has come over him. Your strangled cries of pleasure and hand on his head pushing him further into your cunt encourages Anakin to add a third finger. “Anakin! Fuck!” 

“You like that, baby?” Anakin is breathless, lips coated with your nectar. “You like being stretched by my fingers?” 

“Mm,” you hum, fisting his hair, “yes.” 

“Bet you do.” Anakin bites the inside of your thigh and pumps his three digits agonizingly slowly so he can really admire the stretch. It’s a toe curling sensation and a bit foreign more than anything. You had no idea fingers could feel so good. Maybe it’s just Anakin’s. He places the pad of his thumb on your clit, applying even pressured circles and yeah, it’s totally just Anakin who makes you feel this good. “Good little whores love to be stretched out.” 

“Oh my God!” you exclaim, pussy clenching at Anakin calling you a whore. Your bodily response doesn’t go unnoticed by Anakin. No, he’s storing all of this in his memory, creating a file of all the things that make you go wild. “Fuck me, Anakin. Please.” 

“Currently doing that with fingers, sweetheart.” He pumps his fingers faster but rolls over your nub with a more delicate touch. By now you’re squirming off of the couch, heels digging into the cushion and all you can do is chant Anakin’s name. You’re caught in a dichotomy of wanting to cum while also wanting Anakin’s cock. “C’mon, angel, let it go. I want you to cum on my fingers before you take my cock.” 

“But I- hngh…” your words are mangled as it’s no longer an option to stave off your orgasm. Your clit is overly sensitive and the tightness in your tummy begins to unravel as your walls pulse around Anakin’s three fingers. “Mm— oh, fuck! Ani-”

“That’s it, baby,” Anakin coos. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you cum.” He draws his fingers from you one by one, each time making you cry from emptiness. Anakin sits beside you on the couch, bringing his fingers soaked in your goodness up to your mouth. You open obediently, only taking in two of them. Your tangy sweetness coats your tongue and you’re looking straight into Anakin’s ocean eyes. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel seasick. 

When Anakin takes his fingers out of your mouth, you maneuver yourself on top of Anakin. The rough denim of his jeans creates a rough contrast to the silky tip of his cock poking your thigh. He manages to get his jeans down his legs and around his ankles. Kicking his feet out of them impatiently, his large hands find a home on your breasts while you grab the base of him and position him under your cunt. He’s kneading your mounds gently, rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You slot your lips between his as you lower yourself onto his lap. 

“F-fuck, Ani,” you rest your forehead on Anakin’s as your breathing becomes one. He runs his hands down your tummy, landing on your waist and gives you an encouraging squeeze. “So big, so full,” you murmur. Anakin guides your hips forward and backward, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. He’s sucking down hard, no other thought other than claiming you as his.

It’s fucking magnificent having his cock nestled deep inside of you while you’re moaning in his ear, and soft hands roaming his upper body. His hands drop down to your ass, grabbing a handful of your peachy cheeks. You start bouncing on his cock, each time you drop down you feel like he’s in your stomach. “Cunt’s so fuckin’ greedy,” Anakin groans. “You just can’t get enough of my cock, can you?” 

“Mmh, nuh uh,” you babble mindlessly. Your legs are starting to ache but the pain goes in tandem with the pleasure. Anakin presses your chest to his with his arms around your back. You kiss along his jaw lazily, feeling your energy deplete with each landing on Anakin’s thick length. “Need you to…mmm-” 

“Say no more.” Anakin flips you over seamlessly with his cock still anchored inside of you. He hikes your leg over his shoulder and he drills into you at a delicious new angle. His fingers fall to your clit and it sends you soaring. “Fuck,” Anakin breathes. “I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this tight cunt from me for three years.” 

“Y-yours now,” you have some brain cells left to respond. He’s fucking you hard, tits bouncing with each thrust and Anakin just has to have one in his mouth. While he encloses his lips over one of your nipples, he cups your other breast in his hand. He flicks his tongue across your bud and suckles, as if there’s something in there to nourish him. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chant. It’s all getting to be too much. The bulge you feel in your belly, the pressure on your clit, Anakin’s warm mouth on your breast. How is he so good at doing so many things? “Ani, I’m close.” 

“I feel it, angel,” Anakin drags his lips across your chest and up your neck until he reaches his final destination. With his lips slotted between yours once more, the roll of his hips is languid and methodical. He’s bringing you along gradually, until your second orgasm washes over you and your limbs are convulsing. You moan into Anakin’s mouth and he swallows it happily. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?” 

“Mouth!” you manage to say. Anakin loses every single semblance of control he had when you utter that one word. He pulls out of you just as he begins to cum, hot ropes landing on your chest before he’s propped his foot by your head and shoves his cock between your lips. 

Your warm mouth welcomes him greedily as his seed coats your tongue. “Shit,” Anakin grumbles. “Such a little cum slut.” 

You nod submissively, wrapping your hands around the rest of his length, all slippery from your juices. You look so fucking sexy with his dick in your mouth, he can’t even think straight. You on the other hand, you could suck his cock all damn day. You don’t even have to think while you’re doing it, you’ll just let your hands, mouth, and tongue do whatever they want. It isn’t until you feel his dick start to soften do you realize he’s finished releasing his load. 

Anakin breathlessly slumps down on the other side of your couch. You scoop up his cum from your chest and bring it to your mouth. “Don’t. Don’t fucking do that,” Anakin says rather firmly. 

“Why not?” you blink innocently. 

“You know exactly why.” 

You don’t reply. Instead, you crawl over to him, pulling the blanket that’s draped over the back of your couch and lay on top of Anakin’s chest. He lets you get comfortable as you’re sandwiched between his body and the back cushions of your couch. Once you’ve settled, his strong arm holds you against him protectively. He kisses the top of your head gently and mumbles something you can’t understand. 

Neither of you say anything the rest of the night. Anakin isn’t a man of many words, anyway. But when he has something to say, he’ll make sure he gets his point across. The point he made tonight was very clear. 

He loves you.

remember to reblog and leave comments to support authors!

(ps i'm not a yankees or mets fan. hayden's sweatshirt just kinda looks like the yankees logo even though i know it's not. okay that's it.)

◂ anakin masterlist ▸ main masterlist

[gurugirl]

The Arrangement

sugardaddy dom!harry x college student subby!reader

Based on this request - Harry's wife proposes that he find a mistress to meet his needs in the bedroom as she is no longer willing. His wife has 2 rules: The first is that he finds a professional, and the second is that no feelings are to be involved. But both of those rules are thrown out the window when he meets Y/n.

Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, dom/sub dynamic, smut, use of implements for bondage and bdsm play, DDlg kink, cheating

Part 1 - 22k words

Y/n is an intern at Harry's company and he thinks she's adorable and might just be what he's been looking for. She's already smitten.

Part 2 - 17k words

Harry & Y/n start to get serious despite his wife's wishes, and there's something going on with Romy that isn't sitting right.

~Extras~

The Office Visit - 2k words

Y/n visits Harry at his office in the middle of the day for "lunch".

"Like this, Daddy?" - 3.4k words

Harry wants to make a cute video of Y/n stripping for him but it quickly turns into a sex tape.

Owned - 6.2k words

Harry brings Y/n to his home and Romy returns at a very bad time (takes place in the past before Harry and Romy split)

The Work Trip - 4.8k words

Harry takes Y/n with him on a work trip (takes place in the past before Harry and Romy split)

Pervert - 3k words

Based on this request. Harry calls Y/n to his office in the middle of a workday (takes place in the past before Harry and Romy split)

Dress Up - 4.5k words

Based on this request. Y/n dresses up in diamonds and jewels and thinks she looks sexy so she secretly makes a solo video of herself. But then she goes out on a limb and sends the video to Harry while he's working.

[sushistyless]

Kisses in kiwi flavour.

just some early morning love between Y/N and H.

1.2k (blurb). My masterlist!

——————

“Mhm,” Harry grumbles sleepily as he wraps his tatted arms around Y/N’s waist, encasing her with his strong chest. His arrival in their tiny kitchen (but cozy— they’d add) catches her by surprise, a breathy laugh leaving her lips. She melts into his touch, liking the pattern his fingers make as they skate on the bare skin that’s revealed from the way he rucks her (well, previously his) shirt.

“What’s m’precious doing up so early?” He bends down some, the raspy notes of his voice resonating against her neck, and the feel of his lips curving against the canvas of her skin as he speaks slowly.

Y/N breathes in deeply, a smile blooming on her face from his words alone. She flips a pancake, noticing how the golden brown colour on it has spread evenly, and plops it over onto the ceramic plate kept on the side. She nestles further into him as she does so, and Harry’s hold on her tightens, his face now buried in the crook of her neck as he inhales her scent— rosemary and… cinnamon? — revelling in the knowledge that he now has her full attention.

“She’s making pancakes for you. She’s amazing actually.”

Harry grins hazily at her response, kissing her neck and skating his palms gently along her soft waist before giving her love handles a little squeeze. “Don’t doubt that. My dodo is amazing.”

Y/N bites her lip in efforts to stifle her own fluttering laugh, cushioning her head back on his bicep, and leaning back into him. She twists her head to look up at him, fondly gazing over his features while he continues to talk in the drawly velvety voice of his, “But as wonderful as tha’ is, she left me without m’cuddles this morning.” He pouts, giving her puppy dog eyes that are way too easy to fall for, Y/N thinks. “And I need m’girl to give me my daily dose of cuddles t’function.”

He was such a dodo too.

“Oh no,” Y/N gasps dramatically, “How will you live now? I’m getting worked up just thinking about it—” She pretends to faint on his arm, animatedly throwing a hand over her heart and closing her eyes.

“Hey,” Harry warns, the muscles in his cheek resisting the usual urge to twitch into a grin, “She should know that I have her in my arms— in m’clutches— right this second.”

Y/N blows a raspberry, not giving much regard to the threat, instead fanning her hands in front of her face, “Yeah, yeah, right. Like tha—" Her sentence is cut short however, when Harry’s hands move to tickle her sides. A bubble of chirpy laughter immediately bubble out of her system, as she curls into herself as a built in mechanism.

“H-Harry!” She squirms in his embrace, laughs pouring out her lungs, grappling to hold onto his wrists which is almost impossible considering his tactful tickle skills. And even when she does manage to get a hold of him, he’s way too strong for her to move especially when she’s already in an annoyingly compromised situation. “

“Yeah?” He beams, deep dimples making little craters in his cheeks, “Don’t worry now. Her laughs have resurrected me.” His fingers continue to squiggle around her sides until his arms wrap around her form completely, fully holding her to him.

He decides to relieve her by planting a big smooch on her cheek, and there’s quiet in the room from her breathing finally slowing down, heavy pants and little laughs leaving her lips as she calms down. Her fingers move to thread around with Harry’s, a pulse in his grip as she does so.

“Boo you, H,” she beams, panting out, “Absolute meanie.” She shakes her head, eyes betraying her quest to stay unaffected as if they remain with a blushy, joyful little twinkle in her crinkled eyes.

Harry only stares back at her, the biggest smile pulling on his lips. He watches the sparkle in her eyes, happiness cradling his heart at the fact that he could be the cause of that.

“I wanna kiss you, now.” Harry whispers and flips her to face him completely, entranced by the sight of his idiot. His lover. His dodo.

His.

“Yeah?” she counters, slowly pushing herself up to sit on the now empty, slightly flour-y counter. Harry catches on and guides her by the hips, assisting her.

“Yeah.”

That’s when she pops a piece of kiwi from the bowl on the counter into her mouth.

A glint in her eyes is next slowly, and before he knows it, she’s chewing on it.

“Aish. Too bad. Toooo, too bad.” She lets out a soft giggle as she chews, hand covering her mouth, “Such deprivation this is for you. How can you kiss me, when I-I’m eating, Hm?”

“Oh, no.” He smirks at her, “S’bad manners to talk while eating.” He brushes a strand of hair out of his face, his teasing and banter with her mischievous, actions tender. He scrunches his nose some, “Guess it’s time for me to break a rule too, then.”

He moves forward and nudges his nose with hers, and Y/N helps, giggling softly as she pulls back, chewing with her mouth still covered by her hand, a bit of the kiwi juice trickling down her lips. “H! Oh my god, you are—"

“— much less clumsy than you? Yeah, you messy girl. I am.” He grins showing his usual dimples, eyes far too busy twinkling into taking her features as he brings up his thumb and carefully swipes away the little bit of kiwi juice trickling down her chin.

Y/N giggles softly, with a shy glow in her eyes as he does so, finishing her bite. Just as she’s done, in a moment of bold mischief she tries to reach for the bowl again.

“Ah, ah— ahh. Nope.” Harry’s hand immediately reaches for her, pulling it back, a lopsided smile tugging on his lips. “You menace.”

“Oh, I’m the menace?”

“‘Course you are. You’re dodging m’kisses.”

“I’m eating, H! I-" she bubbles out in a laugh, cut off by him.

“Is it ‘cause I ate that last donut you wanted yesterday?” He now pouts, his hold on her tightening as he bends a bit and nudges her nose with his. “Aw, and now you’re upset, Hm?”

She pouts a bit herself, laughing breathily, as she noses back at his nose, eyes closed. “See? You’re so mean. You’re not even sorry about it.”

“‘M such a meanie,” Harry says with a little smile, his eyes fluttering shut as he rests his forehead against hers.

Y/N finally leans in and kisses him, eyes closed too, as the soft touch of her hands behind his neck send tingles down his spine. Supple lips locked in a sweet dance with hers, harry deepens the kiss, tilting his jaw and pulling her flush against his chest, strong arms tightening against her soft frame.

He pulls away barely, eyes full of tender affection as he looks at her own irises, filled with a shy, excited tinge.

He whispers soft, eyelashes fluttering close to hers in a butterfly kiss, “Mmh. Y’taste like Kiwi.”

She kisses him back, barely able to contain her own shy little smile, “And you owe me a donut.”

———

ah, thank you so much for reading!! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and liking! 🤍

[badstargateimagines]

Y’all ever write fanfic so hard that you end up accidentally finding your passion in computer science at the age of 25 and then randomly apply for college and get in and then end up really enjoying programming and network security more than literally anything you’ve ever studied in your life and you can’t fucking articulate why in god’s name you ended up getting into IT because if you said you ended up getting into IT due to writing a Stargate fan fiction the length of the Book Of Mormon where two IT Rats start an economy based around selling pirated media in another galaxy people would literally think you’re insane? or is that just me?

[elliebarker]

one of the many. ( e williams )

category: modern!college/university!ellie x female!reader : angst, fluff

summary: after her devastating heartbreak with her first girlfriend in highschool, ellie swore off dating, everything she did was casual, non-committal. that was until you showed up. (basically logan and rory troupe but make it happy)

warnings: alcohol consumption, implied smut, “friends with benefits”, cheating(?), use of the word “baby”, a somewhat copy of rory and logan’s fight, fuck boy!ellie (LMAO I’M SORRY).

word count: 2.1k

it had been almost three years since ellie’s first, and only, breakup with her ex-girlfriend, cat. she was older now, more mature, i mean for god’s sake she was a junior in college she couldn’t still be hung up on some stupid girl from highschool. that is why she had resorted to this. one girl in today, another one tomorrow. no attachments. casual. she was hanging out in a cramped party at her friend's house, sipping something alcoholic, with one, two, girls on her arm, laughing and giggling and tracing their fingers up and down her fore-arm tattoo. she was, enjoying herself, she guessed. the party life wasn’t exactly dull, it was the crowd she was surrounded with, a bunch of drunken girls over-exaggerating their laugh so that she’ll go home with them. she wasn’t opposed to it, if fact she probably needed to let loose and celebrate the compilation of one of her tests, she just hadn’t found the right girl yet. that's when she spotted you. an absolutely gorgeous girl, trying to find your way through the crowd. and she immediately took the opportunity to…introduce… herself.

“hey girl,” ellie said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, her action causing your spaghetti strap to fall slightly lower on your shoulder. “i’m ellie, what’s your name?” she asked and you introduced yourself, pulling your strap back to a more comfortable position, and smiled up at her. fuck it ellie thought i’m just gonna go for it. “wanna get out of here?” she asked, earning a smirk and a cheeky ‘sure’ from you as she led you out of the party’s front door.

ellie woke up and stretched her fingers, sore from last night, to see your body draped in and out of the sheets of her bed, still resting. her heart fluttered a little but she chose to ignore it. she sighed, clearly, you didn’t know how this worked. but it was early, and she had never slept with you before, so she gave you cut slack, she’d find a way to get you up and out of her apartment later. a few minutes passed and your body started to feel the lack of ellie’s presence. you woke up in a dingy bedroom full of music posters and scattered clothes. one pile, of which, being yours. your legs were sore as you stood up and grabbed your clothes off the floor, with a little shame in realizing the reality of your situation. you eventually got up all of your belongings and went to find ellie.

“hey,” you greeted, voice hearse and sleepy, as you walked up behind ellie’s sitting figure in the living room. she was wearing new clothes, jeans and a shirt, layered with a flannel with her hair half up pulled into a lazy barely-ponytail. her eyes racked up your body, hair messy and outfit sagged from it being thrown off the night before. “so, um, do you want my number or? i’m sorry i haven’t really done any of this before…” you stuttered on your words.

“look,” she said getting up from the couch, “i like you,” she began, “i really do. it’s just i’m not really into all that relationship crap, you know? i don’t feel like i should be tied down to someone.” she explained, moving her hand to rub the back of her neck. 

“oh no i get that,” you lied, “i just, was hoping we can still…hang out.” you said, trying to come as casual as you could.

“oh no, definitely,” ellie said, smirking, as she looked you up and down. you kissed her on the check before you said goodbye. and that’s how it was. at least once a week you’d be over at her place, ‘hanging out’. it was nice. nice, until, “hey,” ellie said whilst scrolling through her phone, looking over at you gathering up your clothes, “down to go to a party?” she asked.

“sure!” you said, a smile rising to your face at the anticipation of spending time with ellie, outside the arrangement the two of you had. you went inside ellie’s bathroom, it was small and a little dingy, in order to fix up your hair and get ready to face the outside world. once you were both ready to leave, ellie locked the front door behind her and walked you to her car. it wasn’t until you were both buckled into her car and driving down to some girl’s house with her hand on your thigh that you realized you and ellie would be out together in public for the first time. i mean, sure, you’d see the other girls ellie was hooking up with but she decided to come to the party with you. you. ellie eventually pulled up to a house and slipped out of her car, with you not far behind. it was obvious with the loud music and yelling coming from the white brick house which one would be entering. you slipped through the front door with ellie by your side and went around to make conversation with the few people you knew here. you knew ellie wouldn’t want you clinging to her side the whole night. more than a few moments passed and pop music remixes blared through low-quality speakers all around the house. you did your best to socialize, and decided to look around and find ellie. luckily, she was in sight. on the other side of a heep of sweaty, dancing bodies. you were going to make your way over until an arm stopped you. the arm tan and delicate resting atop ellie’s knee whilst she sat atop the kitchen’s barstool. you felt a green-monster flash of despair, both anger and sadness. of course ellie wasn’t yours, but fuck, did your delusional-ass-self really think you meant something to her? something more than just a girl she fucks? acid rain fell from your eyes as you stormed your way out of the crowded jungle of drunken bodies. time had passed and you’d gone numb. you’d rationalized it. you and ellie weren’t exclusive, you knew that. so why did that girl fucking bother you so much? it wasn’t her fault, of course, she didn’t know. and that's the thing, know what? exactly, nothing. that’s what you were to ellie, nothing, disposable, replaceable. but your whole pissed-off attitude disappeared into a mear thought when she approached you, body lanky and oh so attractive.

“what’s with this whole ignoring me thing?” ellie laughed, leaning against the wall next to you, looking over your pouting frame. you didn’t want to start anything, god knows you didn’t, but the edging creepy feeling of jealousy washed over you.

“what was that?” you asked simply, not-answering her question with another.

“what was what?” she asked, seeming genuinely confused. you sighed, then began again, uttering the first answer to a question since the conversation first started.

“her…” you said, looking around the room for the girl ellie was with earlier, “that…girl…you were all flirty with.”

“oh,” ellie sounded surprised, “that’s dina,” ellie laughed, “another, friend, of mine.”

“friend?” you asked, as if you doubted her use of the word, “that’s what i am?” you asked, jestering to yourself, “a fucking friend?” you saw the gears turning in ellie’s head, the fight or flight kicking in. she composed herself without the slightest reaction that she was ever the least bit scared, to the untrained eye that is.

“yeah.” ellie’s voice grew impatient and angry, as if to say, ‘i don’t have time for your crap’, “that’s what we agreed upon.” ellie moved her hand from her hip to in front of her, “friends.” her stern voice and your overwhelming guilt and regret was building up and you felt tears starting to form in your eyes. you let out a, 

“y’know what? i- i can’t fucking do this,” before your voice could break and left the party, letting you walk yourself home. it wasn’t until you reached the welcoming doors of your bedroom that the tears that were welling in your eyes finally fell. and they fell fast. you sobbed into your pillow all night, so much so, when you woke up your pillow was still damp. you knew you couldn’t do it anymore. you slumped off your bed, and made sure to take care of yourself. you showered, did your skin care, put on something more comfortable. you opened your phone, scrolled to ellie’s contact and pressed ‘call’. there was only one ring until, 

“hello?” she called out your name.

“we need to talk, ellie.”

you walked through the mountains of fall leaves and cold air to reach her apartment. you planted a solid two knocks on her door and she immediately opened the door, you could tell she was nervous. her nails were picked at and her eyes darted everywhere around the room but you. the tension was thick, and you knew you had to settle, or rather end, it.

“ellie, i don’t think we should see each other anymore.” you bluntly stated.

“ugh, c'mon is this about that stupid shit last night? you're still hung up on that?” ellie questioned.

“look it's like you said, you can’t be couple-y with me and i get that it’s just i’m a ‘girlfriend’, ellie, i have ‘girlfriends’ not…friends.” you explained, used your hands to display a pair of air quotes when you pronounced the word friends. “i’m sick of…i’m sick of being one of the many, i can’t do it anymore, that’s it okay? i can’t be your friend anymore, i thought i could be different, but i can’t, i’m sorry.” you huffed out the big speech you’d crafted on your way to her apartment. after an erie second of silence, ellie spoke.

“don’t do that.”

“do what?”

“i get it,” ellie said, rubbing her hands together trying to settle her nerves and her voice at a calm level, “i get what your doing.” ellie accused you.

“i’m not doing anything,” you stated, plainly, confusion written all over your face, wondering where she was going with this.

“if that’s what you want, a…a girlfriend, then just come out and say it okay? don’t make me sit here and worry and feel like i fucked up, don’t make me pace around my apartment, don’t come here saying ‘i can’t see you anymore’ don’t fucking do that! i’ll be your girlfriend? alright? that’s what you're really saying huh?” ellie lectured you.

“that’s not what i’m saying, ellie.” you tried to explain, but she kept going on,

“no, no, but that’s what you mean, don’t you?” she sighed, putting her hands on your waist, “c’mon, i’ll do it”

“what?” you gasped.

“i said i’ll do it, okay?” ellie forcefully stated, “i’ll be your girlfriend, it’s either all or nothing baby.”

“you can’t be my girlfriend,” you pushed her back.

“who says i can’t? huh?” ellie’s hands slithered their way back onto your waist.

“um, you, last night!” you declared, recalling her aggravated tone from the night before.

“oh come on! last night was last night, forget about it, right now is right now and i want, scrap that i need you, don’t– don’t leave me sweet girl.” ellie pleaded, begged you. you placed a hand on your hip in an attempt to display fake confidence.

“you have a hundred girls on speed dial.” you scoffed, disbelieving of this ‘new’ ellie.

“who cares about them? they don’t matter to me.” 

“look,” you began, “i know you, i know your type, commitment is not your thing and that’s fine! non-commitment isn’t mine so it's better if we just go our separate ways.” you turned to leave. ellie’s hands, previously placed on your waist, went up to arm and turned you back around to look at her.

“just let me try,” ellie said, looking deeply genuine, “if i say i can do this, then i can do this.”

“ellie–” she interrupted you calling out her name, with your own.

“do you really want to stop seeing me?”

“no,” you stuttered, “but i can’t–”

“‘cause i don’t wanna stop seeing you.” ellie smiled at you.

“are you sure–?” she cut you off a third time, this time with her lips. waves crashed and goals scored in that moment. her lips, never so delicate until this point, landed on yours and connected each other. it was utterly and absolutely euphoric. her lips were soft, softer than other times you had kissed. and it was then you knew. it was then you both knew. you were the one. she didn’t want anyone else. only you. her girlfriend. and she was finally proud to call you that.

[lemoncrushh]

Comfort Food

Summary: Jessica, a self-proclaimed foodie, helps her classmate Harry study for their Biology test.

Warnings: None. Pure fluff.

Word Count: 4.9k+

A/N: College/Uni Harry x OC written in first person. Originally posted in 2019. I realize I've been reposting a lot of fluff lately, but apparently that was the mood I was in back then. I feel like this story is very relatable though, no matter your age. We all want to be liked, but sometimes we let our own insecurities stop us from believing we deserve it.

Most people didn’t notice me. Guys especially. They didn’t see me. I don’t mean they didn’t look at me exactly, but when they did it was like they were looking through me. There might as well have been a prettier girl standing behind me that they were really looking at, and I suppose at times that may have been the case.

“Five eighty,” the tired woman at the register said with a sigh. I handed her a five and a one before waiting for the clinking sound of two dimes that dropped from the side of the register into a little metal dish.

I gripped my tray with both hands and made my way to the farthest end of the cafeteria, choosing the booth next to the window where someone hadn’t already taken it upon themselves to open the blinds. I hated sitting in streaming, hot sunshine while I ate my food.

I’d just taken a bite of the macaroni and cheese - the main reason why I frequented this cafeteria - when I heard someone speak.

“Hey, I know you.”

I jumped as I looked up at the boy who stood near the restrooms, thinking surely there was someone behind me he was greeting instead. His name was Harry. I had a class with him, I knew that much, but there was no way he even knew I existed. He was tall with a curly mop of hair on his head and big green eyes that if I wasn’t careful, I could get lost in. I quickly blinked and looked back down at my lunch.

“I have a class with you, right?” he continued, stepping closer to my table. Okay so obviously he was talking to me after all.

I shrugged. “I guess.”

“Yeah. What is it, Psych?”

“Bio,” I muttered.

“What was that?” It was then that he took it upon himself to slide into the booth across from me.

“Biology,” I answered, glaring at him.

“Oh, right! Biology. Professor Graham.”

I nodded, sucking in my lips.

“You sit in front of me, end of the row. What’s your name again?”

“Jessica.”

“Jessica,” he repeated with a lopsided grin. “That’s right.”

Harry rested his elbow on the table, his chin in his hand as he stared at me. He seemed to be studying me for a while, though I wasn’t sure if he was really looking at my face or thinking of something else. Either way, he was silent for so long, even as I tried to ignore him and eat my mac and cheese, I began to get nervous. Finally he spoke again.

“Is that good?” he inquired.

“What?”

“That,” he pointed. “What you’re eating.”

I nodded emphatically. “Mhm. You wouldn’t think so, coming from a cafeteria, but it’s really good actually. It’s just like-”

“Hey, Harry!”

I turned my head to see a table full of people, one of the guys waving Harry over. I recognized him from class too. He sat next to Harry. I narrowed my eyes.

“You have your friends get your food for you?”

He made a face as he leaned forward to whisper, “Only 'cause I had to wee really bad.”

A giggle slipped from my throat before I could stop it. I quickly covered my mouth in embarrassment, but Harry only gave me another lopsided grin.

“I guess I should go,” he finally gestured toward the other table.

I nodded.

“Maybe they got me some of that,” he pointed at my mac and cheese as he rose from the booth. “Good to see you, Jessica. Have a nice lunch.”

“You too,” I managed a smile.

“Oh,” he stopped suddenly, his sneakers squeaking on the tile as he backed up. Then he turned to me, his big hands spread out across his chest. “I’m Harry, by the way.”

As if I didn’t know.

I could hear his voice before I saw him. I was already at my desk, concentrating on my notes from Friday when I heard Harry talking to Sam, the boy who sat next to him. I didn’t listen to what they were talking about, however, until I saw Harry’s legs stop on the step next to my desk and I heard my name at the same time a pen poked me in the shoulder. I removed my eyes from my notes and followed the long, denim clad legs up to a black t-shirt and finally green eyes.

“Sorry?” I asked.

“Just saying hi,” he smiled before bringing his pen to his mouth and biting on it. Then he took the final step and took his regular seat on the row behind me.

“Oh,” I whispered, though I figured he didn’t hear me. “Hi.”

“How was the rest of your weekend?”

For some reason I thought Harry had returned to his conversation with Sam, but then he said my name again.

“Huh?” I twisted in my seat.

“I asked how the rest of your weekend was,” he smirked. “After I saw you.”

“Oh,” I shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”

“Good.” His dimples displayed in his cheeks which made me quickly look away.

“Oh hey,” I heard him add. “I did get to try that mac and cheese. And you were right. Surprisingly good.”

I felt myself smile just as Professor Graham took his place in the front of class and began his lecture.

I’d just slung my backpack over my arm when Harry said my name for the third time in an hour. I turned to look at him, his long arms slipping through the straps of his own backpack.

“Yes?” I asked timidly.

“I have a favor to ask,” he said, taking the top step down to my level. I noticed he was picking at his bottom lip before he tucked it between his teeth.

“Favor?”

“It’s kind of embarrassing,” he admitted. “I’m a fairly decent student. So I don’t usually ask for help. But this class...well, I’m not doing as well in it to be honest. And we got that test next Monday.”

My stomach lurched as I realized what he was implying.

“You need a tutor?” I asked.

Harry tilted his head and a curl fell over his eye.

“I was thinking more like a study partner?” He said it in a question, probably out of nerves. I thought it was cute.

But I knew the truth. Cute or not, Harry was wanting help to get a good grade. Guys like Harry didn’t ask girls like me to “study”. Study partner was a term used for pretty, bubbly girls who were probably making the same grade the boy was - an excuse to be with them without actually asking them on a date. Harry was not asking me for that. He wanted a tutor.

“Um…” I sucked in my lips, then nodded. “Yeah, sure, okay.”

Harry let out a deep breath and his shoulders dropped. “God, thanks Jessica. I really appreciate-”

“I’ll be at the Franklin Library tonight at seven,” I interrupted. “I can stay as late as you need.”

“That’s...that’s perfect actually. I’ll be there.”

I nodded sharply. “Okay.”

I turned to make my way down the steps, feeling Harry’s presence looming behind me.

“Thank you, Jessica,” he said again when we reached the bottom. Then I felt his hand on my shoulder for a split second before he turned for the door. For some strange reason I froze in my spot, watching him reach the exit, then look back one last time and smile.

With the sleeve of my sweater, I covered my mouth and made an inaudible squeal into my arm.

“No, see that’s where you’re getting confused,” I pointed to the diagram in the book.

“Tell me about it,” Harry let out a frustrated sigh. “Actually it’s not so much confusing, it’s just a lot of names and shit to memorize.”

I chuckled slightly and sat back. “Science is a lot of memorizing,” I agreed.

“If I have the book in front of me, I get it. But obviously I can’t do that for the test.”

“Then we’ll keep studying until we get it right,” I offered as Harry scribbled some notes.

Looking up from his paper, he peered at me behind the curl that had fallen over his eye again. It took all my gumption not to reach out and push it away.

“So, Jessica, can I ask you something?”

I instantly felt myself blush and looked down at my own notes.

“Um...if you’re asking if I was a straight A student in high school, the answer is yes. But no, I wasn’t valedictorian. That title went to Joseph Larkin.”

Harry snorted and I glared at him.

“I wasn’t going to ask that.”

“Oh.”

With a smirk that I would have deemed cocky if Harry didn’t seem like such a nice person, he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“Why the macaroni and cheese?”

“What?” I asked incredulously.

“From that cafeteria. You’d barely said two words to me until I asked you about it, then all of a sudden your face lit up and you were eager to tell me how good it was.”

With another pink blush to my cheeks, I pretended to doodle on my paper.

“It’s my ultimate comfort food,” I admitted.

“Why’s that?”

“It’s the closest to my grandma’s that I’ve found anywhere. The rest of the food there is…” I shrugged, “it’s okay I guess. But I go there just for the mac and cheese.”

“Ah, so it’s sort of sentimental for you.”

I tilted my head from side to side.

“That...and...I’m sort of a foodie,” I explained.

“Yeah? Do you cook?”

“A little. But I’m more of like...a connoisseur of particular things. Like I have favorite items that I like to order from almost any restaurant in town, even if it’s not particularly what they’re known for.”

“Oh!” grinned Harry, leaning forward on the table, his arms crossed in front of him. “I’d be interested in picking your brain, then.”

“Go for it.”

“So if I name a place, you can tell me what to eat?”

“Pretty much. Except that Mediterranean place on 5th Street. Nothing is good there, trust me.” I made a gagging noise which made Harry laugh.

“Alright then. How about…” he tapped his chin with his finger, “that steak place by the cinema.”

I rolled my eyes. “Are you kidding me? The double fudge brownie a la mode.”

“That’s a dessert!” Harry quipped.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s the best thing on the menu. Plus I’m not a big steak person.”

“Noted,” he raised a brow. “What about Michaelangelo’s?”

“Chicken Marsala. And the stuffed mushrooms are good. Unfortunately there’s something in their marinara sauce I’m allergic to.”

“That’s too bad. What about Chinese? Do you like Asian food?”

“I like most of it, yeah,” I replied. “Oh! The best is this amazing chicken soup from that place on 8th and Morton. My mom used to get it for me whenever I was sick. I don’t know what they put in it, but I almost always feel better the next day.”

Harry smiled at me, his dimples dipping in his cheeks. I felt myself blush and looked down at the table.

“We should go get some,” I heard him say.

“They’re probably closed now,” I commented before I realized he probably didn’t mean right then.

“Oh! Yeah!” Harry looked at his phone. It was after eleven. “Shit, I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“Yeah I should get home.”

I shoved my book in my backpack and zipped it up.

“Can I walk you?” Harry asked.

“Oh, um...no, I have my car.”

“You don’t live on campus?”

I shook my head.

“Oh.” Harry looked disappointed. Or maybe I was just hoping he did. “Can I at least walk you to your car?”

I tried to hide my smile. “Sure.”

Stepping out into the cold night, I was glad I’d brought my winter coat instead of just my hoodie. Harry, however was only in a light jacket. I did notice how he walked a little closer to me, but I didn’t say anything until he did.

“It’s changing seasons now I reckon.”

“Yeah. Is it far to your building?”

“Nah, just over there,” he pointed across the street.

“Oh, that’s good.”

We made it to my car and I thanked him for walking with me before I opened the door and climbed inside.

“Jessie,” he said, his voice low, his arm on the door. “Can I call you Jessie?”

I bit my lip and nodded. Nobody else called me that, but I would gladly let him call me anything he wanted.

“Good,” he beamed. “You look like a Jessie to me. Anyway, do you think we could do this again? Studying, I mean, at the library.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“It’s just...the test isn’t for a week but I really wanna make sure I know this stuff…”

I reached a hand out and touched his bicep. “It’s no problem, Harry. I’m happy to help.”

“Great!” he said. “Is tomorrow too soon?”

“No, it’s fine with me. Same time?”

“Yeah. Thanks Jessie.”

“You’re welcome. Goodnight, Harry.”

“There’s no way Danny’s has better donuts than Esther’s,” Harry argued. “I’m sorry Miss Foodie, but I will have to disagree with you there.”

I laughed at his nickname and shook my head. “Not all the donuts,” I pointed out. “Just the jelly-filled. If I want a jelly donut, I go to Danny’s, no contest.”

“But have you had the cinnamon cake donuts from Esther’s?”

“I have,” I nodded. “And I agree, they’re good. But jelly is the best.”

Harry rolled his eyes which made me laugh harder. I covered my face with my hands, remembering we were in a library.

Harry and I had been at it since seven, studying for the Biology exam, but somehow we’d made it to the subject of food once again, just like we had almost all week, except for a couple days when we couldn’t meet.

“Alright, Harry,” I said once I calmed down. “Test is tomorrow. What do you think?” It was Sunday evening and the library closed early.

“I think I want another week,” he groaned.

“Harry!”

“Okay, okay, I think I’ve got it. I’ll at least squeak by and get a C.”

“Gee, thanks,” I scoffed.

Harry smirked, giving my chair a tiny shove under the table. “I’m teasing you, darling.”

I blushed for the upteenth time that week and gave a gentle grin. “Oh.”

“You’ve been a tremendous help, Jessie,” he added. “I’m actually sad the week is ending. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you.”

“Oh,” I repeated.

“You know,” he raised a brow as he packed up his books, “since we’ve been talking about food so much, I was thinking after this test is over we should go out.”

“What?” I stared at him in disbelief.

“Out to eat,” he offered. “Someplace you like. Not that Mediterranean restaurant or the one by the cinema, obviously.”

“Um...really? Um...I don’t know.” I stumbled.

“Yeah. Why not?”

“Um...I’m...I’m kind of busy,” I said.

Harry pouted, then blinked. “Every day?”

“Well…” I hesitated, knowing fully well that was a lie. “Maybe not. Um...yeah, sure we could do that...sometime.”

“Cool,” Harry beamed, “wanna give me your number?”

I stared at him while he pulled out his phone. Touching a few things, he looked up at me.

“Go ahead,” he urged. But I was frozen.

Guys like Harry didn’t ask for phone numbers from girls like me.

“Jessie?” he asked.

Finally I cleared my throat and recited my number. With a genuine smile, Harry typed it into his phone.

“I just texted you,” he said. “So now you have mine.”

“Okay,” I breathed.

Harry walked me to my car like always and waved goodbye as I drove off. When I got home and dropped my bag on the chair beside my bed, I quickly dug out my phone. I didn’t use it all that often; no one ever called me. It was more for emergencies. But there it was. A text.

Hey Miss Foodie. Good luck on the test tomorrow. And thanks for all your help.

Text me when you get home please.

I bit my bottom lip to keep from smiling as big as I wanted. But it was no use. The smile won out. He’d said please for gosh sakes.

I’m home.

Hey, thanks for letting me know. Just wanted to make sure you got home safely.

Ok.

Goodnight Jessie. See you in the morning.

Goodnight Harry

I could tell my texts were short and bland, even for someone who doesn’t text much. But I didn’t know what else to say.

The test went smoothly, at least I thought. I finished mine a little early and turned it in to Professor Graham. When I reached the door, I looked back and saw Harry with his lopsided grin. I waved and he gave me a thumbs up.

That afternoon I heard my phone buzz which startled me since that didn’t happen often. Harry sent me a short text saying he thought he might’ve aced the test. I told him I wouldn’t doubt it.

Professor Graham said the scores would be posted that night online. Just after I checked mine, and gave myself a mental high five for the perfect score, my phone rang.

“Hello?” I answered.

“A ninety, Jessie! I got a ninety!”

“Harry, that’s great!” I cheered.

“Well, it’s not acing it, but close. Definitely the best score I’ve ever gotten on a science test.”

“I’m happy for you!”

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Jessie!”

I smiled, though he couldn’t see me.

“I really appreciate all your help,” he continued. “Although we probably spent at least half of the study time talking about food.”

I chuckled. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I like talking to you.”

“I like talking to you, too,” I said before I could stop the words.

“Good. So let’s talk now,” I could practically hear the lopsided grin in his voice. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Just checked my score.”

“You aced it, didn’t you?”

I was silent.

“Of course you did,” he teased. “Smarty pants.”

“Well I was your tutor,” I quipped.

“Study partner,” he corrected.

I laughed louder.

“I like your laugh,” he said. “It’s cute.”

For the next hour, I was not myself. I was some other person, some other version of Jessica. I was Jessie, I supposed, Harry’s study partner. A girl with a cute laugh who got phone calls and texts from curly headed boys with lopsided grins. I didn’t recognize myself.

By the time I got off the phone, my face was flushed, and my smile seemed permanently glued to my face. Washing up before bed, I stared in the mirror, reminding myself who I really was.

Girls like me didn’t get phone calls and laugh for over an hour with boys like Harry. Most people didn’t notice me. Guys especially.

Wednesday morning when I walked into Bio, Harry was already there, which was a first. In fact, he was sitting in my seat, a white paper bag in front of him on the desk and a goofy grin on his face like he had a secret he was dying to tell.

“What are you doing?” I asked with a chuckle.

“Brought you something,” he replied, pointing to the bag. Then he slid into the empty seat next to mine that was usually occupied by Omar.

Taking my seat, I grabbed the bag and opened it, the sweet aroma hitting my nostrils immediately.

A jelly donut from Danny’s.

“What is this for?” I asked him incredulously.

“For helping me with the Bio test,” he said. Then a wide grin spread across his face as his cheeks blushed a rosy pink, much like mine had been doing since last Monday. “And maybe because I kinda like you.”

“What?” My eyes widened like saucers.

He looked down at the desk and back at me. “Alright. Truth? It’s not a maybe. And I don’t just kinda like you. I do like you. A lot, actually.”

“No you don’t,” I snapped before I even realized the words had left my lips. I regretted them instantly, especially after seeing the hurt look on Harry’s face.

“I don’t?”

“Well...I mean...you can’t.”

“Why can’t I?” He leaned closer to me. “Do you have a boyfriend?” he whispered. Then he seemed to consider something else. “Or a girlfriend?”

I shook my head. “No. I mean...guys like you don’t like girls like me.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, his expression looking like all the gears in his brain were turning around all of the words I’d said.

“What exactly are...guys like me...and girls like you? As far as I can tell, I’m a guy...no, not even that. I’m a person. And you’re a person. And I like you. What’s wrong with that?”

“Because it’s…” I stumbled. “I don’t know. You’re just...well you’re you.”

“I am me,” he agreed. “At least I hope I am.”

I tried not to laugh as I shook my head. “We’re different, Harry.”

“How so?” Harry crossed his arms over his chest. I glanced over towards the door and saw Michelle Young walk in. She was tall and pretty and when she walked into a room, people noticed.

“Have you looked at you?” I sighed.

Harry looked down at his lap and held out his arms, pretending to inspect himself. He was really making this hard for me.

“Her!” I gestured toward Michelle who was taking her seat. “That’s the kind of girl that gets attention. Guys like you go out with girls like her.”

Harry seemed to study Michelle longer than I would have liked, but when he turned back to me, he merely shrugged.

“She’s okay, I guess. But I haven’t gotten to know her and spend time with her. She may be a lovely person, or she may be a bore. I like you, Jessie.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Being around Harry definitely made me feel a certain way, but I didn’t think he would ever in my wildest dreams feel the same about me. I needed time to process it.

Professor Graham walked into the room then, and the class quieted. Omar shuffled in after the Professor so Harry walked around me to his seat behind me. For the next hour I was grateful he didn’t have to see my face. Because I had no idea what emotions they revealed.

When the lecture was over, Harry asked if we could talk. I told him I had to get to my next class, but he could text me later. And I told him thanks for the donut.

I didn’t get a text from Harry that afternoon, which was rather disappointing, but I tried not to dwell on it. I knew he was out of my league anyway and figured he finally decided for himself.

That night, however, after I ate dinner with my mom and did some homework, I realized I had a voicemail.

“Jessie…” he hesitated. “I’m not exactly sure what I did. But whatever it is, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you off, if I came on too strong. I just...I like you and um.... I don’t really understand this ‘girls like you’ thing you mentioned. But...I think you’re great. And I wish we could go out. But...if you don’t want to, it’s okay. Text me if you want...or call...or whatever. Bye.”

I sat on the edge of my bed with my phone in my hand for nearly twenty minutes. I was too chicken to call. I didn’t know what I would say. And apparently I didn’t know what to say in a text either because everything I’d type I’d just end up deleting before I could send it. Finally I just typed four words.

I like you too.

Harry didn’t reply to my text that night. Or at least not before I fell asleep. But I awoke to new messages Thursday morning.

Thank God!!!

When do you wanna go out??

Oh by the way, how was the donut?

I laughed as I got ready for school, sending him a quick reply that we could go out that weekend if he was available and that the jelly donut was the bomb.

I felt different all day. I seemed to have a hop in my step and a smile on my face at all times. For the first time in a long time, something - other than food - made me...happy.

But the hop and smile were short-lived. That night Harry called me and he sounded terrible.

“I think I’m getting a cold,” he moaned.

“Oh no.”

“I wanted to take you out tomorrow,” he added.

“It’s okay,” I assured him. “We can do it another time.”

“I’m sorry, Jessie.”

We talked for a little longer, but Harry’s coughing was getting worse so we said goodnight.

Harry didn’t make it to Biology the next morning either. I felt awful for him, but more than that, I missed him. Granted, he sat behind me, but just knowing his seat was empty made my heart ache.

After my next class, I had a plan. Taking a detour to 8th and Morton, I made a special purchase before heading to the dorms across from the Franklin Library. I didn’t know which one exactly was Harry’s, but as luck would have it, I saw Omar from Bio walking up to the building and I asked him.

His door was at the end of the hall. Taking a deep breath, I knocked three times. I heard some sort of sounds coming from inside before a latch was released and the door swung open.

“Jessie!” Harry exclaimed in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

He sniffled, then brought a tissue to his mouth which he coughed into. He looked like Rudolph with his red nose. I had the sudden urge to kiss it, but instead I made myself speak.

“I came to check on you,” I admitted.

“Oh. That’s sweet of you. I’m sorry I’m…” he paused to cough again, “...sick.”

I frowned at his obvious look of disappointment as though he really was more upset that he was sick under the circumstances. I found it endearing.

“Harry, get back inside,” I said, pushing him into his room and shutting the door behind me.

“You brought me something?” he asked, eyeing the bag in my hand.

I smiled, holding it up. “Soup. Now sit.”

Mustering up a smile of his own, he followed my orders and sat at the desk behind him. I opened the bag and pulled out the large container of soup and a spoon.

“Eat up, buttercup,” I sang. Then I sat on the nearby bed as I watched Harry dig in. After the first spoonful, he made a sound and looked at me with wide eyes.

“‘s so good!”

“Told ya! It’s my favorite comfort food. You’ll probably be feeling better by tomorrow.”

“I thought the mac and cheese was your favorite comfort food.”

I rolled my eyes. Okay so he paid attention. “Fine, second favorite.”

Despite his illness, Harry smirked before focusing again on the soup. I smiled and started to lie back on the bed.

“Is this your bed?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Okay, good. Didn’t wanna lie on someone else’s,” I joked.

“But you might not wanna lie on mine since I’ve been sick.”

He had a point. I sighed. “I don’t care.”

Harry ate a little more than half the container before he had another coughing fit. He grabbed a nearby water bottle that he’d apparently been drinking from and guzzled it down.

“‘m Sorry, Jessie,” he whined. “I think I need to lie down.”

“Oh, of course,” I agreed, sitting up. I was about to stand when he stopped me.

“Lie with me,” he said. “Just for a little bit.”

I blinked before he practically pulled me down with him, not having the chance to argue. Harry wrapped his arms around me and I instantly felt warm. I laid my head on his chest and felt his breaths, a nice steady rhythm that soothed me.

“This is so nice,” he murmured. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

I hummed against his chest and he pulled me tighter.

“You know, the soup was great. But if I do end up better by tomorrow, I reckon it’ll be because of you.”

I lifted my head to look at his face. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks were flushed, but more than anything I saw...something else. Sincerity.

“Me?” I whispered.

Harry pushed a strand of hair away from my cheek.

“I really like you, Jessie. I think you’re kind and thoughtful, smart and funny, cute and sweet.”

I smiled at him as he traced the back of his hand across my cheek.

“I think you might be my comfort food,” he grinned.

I couldn’t help but giggle at that.

“Smooth, Harry,” I poked.

“Hey, you liked it, admit it.”

It was cheesier than the mac and cheese I so loved. But it was also sweeter than a jelly donut. I could make my own silly analogies. But regardless, it was great to hear.

“I do admit it,” I nodded. “And I like you, too. A lot.”

Tilting his head, Harry leaned in, his lips grazing mine before taking my face in his hands and kissing me tenderly.

If you enjoyed, please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[absgay]

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ “You love to play hard to get. Get you like it was an accident. You like me more when I just don’t give a shit. You’re hard to get, hard to get.” ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

words count: 1.8k

“You want me to want you, want me to watch you and need you."

warnings: 18+ minors dni, grammar, f*buddy!abby, college!abby, some jealousy, abby is an asshole and idk, i’m not good at this, smut.

first part here: fetish.

Abby was miserable. It’s been twelve days, twelve fuckin’ days. You haven’t talked to her in almost two weeks, dammit. No texts, no nudes, no calls, nothing. But, you guys weren’t together, which means it shouldn’t even bother her, right?

She looked at you from across the room as you walked in class and sat down by the window, distancing yourself from the blond.

“Hey!” It was some girl named Nancy or Nathalie, Abby wasn’t even sure. She glanced at the redhead as she sat down next to her and frowned. “You don’t mind? I don’t wanna be alone.” Abby shrugged.

She regretted it as the redhead talked, talked, talked and talked, the entire time. Abby wasn’t listening to be honest, humming and nodding from time to time as she remained focused on the only thing that truly mattered to her: you. But, the redhead was clearly interested in Abby. She was touchy and very flirty, which caught your attention as you stared at them with an annoyed face. You looked back at the teacher as soon as Abby caught you in the act, the blond smirking as she pulled out her cellphone.

“what are you doing tonight, do you have any plans?” she texted. Abby waited and looked back at you as you clicked on the notification and started typing. God, she was anxious. Is this how people usually feels whenever they text someone? It sucked. “party at jessica’s.” you sent. “who the fuck is jessica?” Abby texted back, staring at the screen with disappointment as you didn’t respond.

She sighed and laid back against the chair. “Yeah— Sorry to interrupt but do you know anyone named Jessica?” Abby asked the redhead.

Nathalie or something nodded. “I do.” she responded. “We’re both Kappa members and there’s a party at our house tonight.” Abby hummed, intrigued. “Do you wanna be my date?”

She shouldn’t use this random woman, but it’s such a nice coincidence, and she’s an asshole after all. “Sure.” she responded. “Here’s my phone, you should add your number, it’ll be easier.” A great way to get somebody’s actual name.

Turns out the redhead’s name was, in fact, Nancy. And she was nice, enthusiastic and still too talkative. Abby felt uncomfortable, she didn’t even know what to say, they didn’t have much in common. A few months back, she would've skipped the whole conversation and dragged the redhead straight to bed. Anyway, she doesn’t wanna do that anymore, for some reason. She could tell the redhead wanted more than a conversation though: commenting on her athletic skills, appearance and obsessing over the blond’s arms.

“Do you want something to drink?” Nancy asked. “I’m thirsty.” Abby hummed, embarrassed as Nancy winked at her. “I’ll get us something, wait here.”

It’s been two hours and you weren’t anywhere to be seen, not in the living room, not in the kitchen, not in the garden, not upstairs and definitely not in Nancy’s bedroom. Abby had looked everywhere, you weren’t at the party. She decided it was time to leave after an embarrassing altercation with the redhead.

Abby walked back to the dorms, defeated. She looked at your room from down the hallway as she stepped in the building and decided to try it. She stopped at the door and knocked once, twice, an anxious bubble overwhelming her stomach.

“Oh— Hey, Abby!” your roommate said, all smiles and energetic. The room smelled like alcohol and weed. Abby glanced at the man sitting on the brunette’s bed and chuckled. “What’s up? We were about to rock the boat in there.”

Abby laughed at your roommate’s honesty. “Yeah— I can see that. I’m looking for someone, stubborn, annoying, cute. I think she lives with you.”

The brunette nodded. “She offered to leave, since we needed the room. She’s supposed to be at the library.” Abby thanked her and headed back outside.

Of course the library was dead silent at this hour. And there you were, seated at some random table by yourself, studying under the dim lighting. You heard the blond’s footsteps as she approached and smirked.

“So— Jessica’s party.” Abby started. “Well— I’m not an expert when it comes to addresses around the campus but I’m pretty sure this isn’t the Kappa’s house, sweetheart.”

You hummed and looked back at your notes. “I never said I’d be there. You wanted plans, I gave you some.” Abby scoffed as she sat down next to you. “Shit— I’m really, really sorry." you said with an exaggerated tone. "Did you expect to see me at this party?”

Abby chuckled softly. “Wow— Someone’s in a silly mood.” She looked at you attentively as you read, then sighed. “We haven’t talked in days. Come on—” Abby leaned in towards you, elbows resting on her knees and hands clasped as she continued. “You wanna tell me what happened since our last conversation?”

You hadn’t expected the blond woman to be so direct. You cleared your throat and shrugged. “I told you, I’m seeing someone.”

“Yeah, right— Is someone here? In the room, with us?” Abby asked with an amused tone. “If you were actually seeing someone, you wouldn’t be alone at the library on a Friday night.” she continued. "Listen, I know you wanted to piss me off the other night with this story and congratulations, it fuckin’ worked.”

Well, technically you weren’t lying and deep down, Abby knew it. But it couldn’t be serious though, not after what happened the other night, right? She hoped so.

“How was your date with Nancy?” you asked. “She seemed very interested in you. I mean— She was all over you in class and wouldn’t stopped talking about you at lunch.” Abby smirked. “Did something happen?”

“Let me think…” Abby said. “There were so many women all over me tonight I— I need a minute to collect my thoughts.” She hummed as you rolled your eyes. “Actually— Now that I’m thinking about it, it’s none of your business.”

You snorted and threw your pen at the blond as she used your own words against you. “You’re a dick.”

“You know— You don’t have to stay here. It’s late, you could come with me and sleep at mine.” Abby offered. “I’m just saying— Your room is gonna be messy, it smelled like the 80s in there.”

“You’re so generous.” Abby winked. “God— That’s not what I meant!” you whined as she laughed. “I can’t believe she told you about the library. So, what? You’re stalking me now? That’s your new thing?”

“Yes.” Abby confirmed. “I’m obsessed with you.” you blushed as the words left the blond’s mouth innocently. “Does it turn you on?” You laughed and slapped her arm. “Come on— Don’t be shy. It’d be understandable, I’d be a really hot stalker.”

Abby’s frustration was highly noticeable as she stared at you deeply, waiting for something, anything to happen. She looked so good, it wasn’t fair. She was magnificent, a temptation, your own forbidden fruit. And yet you still managed to stay away from her for twelve days, almost two weeks, an eternity. It was pretty impressive. You couldn’t fuck it all up now, no matter how bad you wanted to.

“Abby.” you said. “We are not gonna have sex tonight.”

She frowned. “Excuse me— Sex? Dammit. Who said anything about sex? What makes you think I wanna have sex with you?” Abby asked. “Pervert.”

“Bitch.” you snapped back. The woman’s eyebrows raised as she grabbed your chair and pulled it closer to hers, effortlessly. “Come on— Abby. You’re distracting me.”

You blinked and swallowed hard, the blond’s head leaning dangerously close to yours as she smiled. God, she wanted you so much it was ridiculous.

“We’re just having a conversation.” Abby said as she looked at your mouth with desperation. “A nice conversation.”

The room remained quiet as your own heartbeat got too loud. You felt self-conscious and wondered if Abby could hear it and feel it too. Fuck, someone could’ve grabbed and touched the tension between you two; an invisible strength, vibrations between bodies and souls, created by intense glances and unspoken thoughts.

“I have an important test on monday.” you murmured which wasn’t even true, an attempt to run away. Possessed by impatience and lust, Abby impulsively grabbed the papers off your hands and threw them away.

You were meant to fall into each other’s arms. It needed to happen somehow, you both believed it was written at this point. One, two, three… Time stopped as your inner voice encouraged it and silenced your heart’s complaints: do it.

You sighed and grabbed the blond’s neck. Mouth collapsed and moans were shared as you both dived into the heat, letting it consume you entirely. Happily, Abby guided you as you moved and sat down in her lap throughout the kiss, chest heavy and cheeks warm. The woman’s rough hands wandered across your body, one sliding under your skirt to hold your thigh, the other travelling from your back to your neck as she deepened the kiss.

Abby pulled away breathless then cursed quietly. She hummed in delight, head falling backwards as you grinded against the blond’s clothed crotch in the nastiest way possible. You yelped as she suddenly slammed your body against the table, eyes filled with desire.

“Wait, Abby." you breathed as she stood between your legs. “We could get caught—”

She interrupted you with another kiss as she bent over the table. “Which is why you’re gonna have to be quiet.” She stepped back and stared at you, pulling your underwear down your legs.

You sighed in anticipation as she kneeled between your thighs and lifted your skirt outrageously slowly. Abby’s hands went to your hips and held them firmly as your legs were hanging over her broad shoulders. You hummed in satisfaction, the blond’s nose pressed against your clit, mouth wandering along your crotch with an undeniable eagerness. She listened carefully to each one of your short breaths, moans, whines, murmurs and almost came as you bucked against her mouth, shouting her name in pure bliss.

You looked down at the gorgeous woman between your legs and sat down on the wooden table as she breathed heavily, eyes bright and lips swollen. She stood and looked at you with admiration, all sweaty and breathless, all hers.

You didn’t think twice before grabbing the blond’s collar. “Abby— I need you.” you admitted. She groaned at your words, forehead pressed against yours and mouth dropping as you unzipped her pants.

(twelves days, huh?)

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

next part: heaven.

[lafrexniere]

Adam Fantilli - Roll Jackets Baby

You were seated at the draft waiting for it to start. You were sitting with your boyfriend’s family with him at your side, talking to him and his brother when you felt your phone buzz in your purse. It was your brother calling to Facetime,

“Oh boy, what does he want?” your boyfriend Adam teased. You rolled your eyes and picked up. 

“Hey Rut,” you said.

“Hey sis, hey Luca, Adam,” he said.

“Rutger.” Adam answered sternly. 

"Lookin sharp fellas," he smirked.

“What’s up bro?” you asked, he knew you were here so why would he call you.

“Just wanted to remind you that you aren’t going to Anaheim with Adam and you are stuck at Mich with me and Luca,” he flashed an annoying smile that you wanted to slap off his face.

“I’m not a little girl anymore you can’t boss me around,” you sassed him. 

“Mom and Dad said I have to look out for you while I can so, you are stuck at Mich,” he snapped back. 

“Can I say something,” Adam asked. 

“Go ahead babe,” you smiled causing Rutger to gag through the phone. 

“I really don’t think I’m going there, I don’t care if I’m not second, I just think I’m going to Columbus,” your boyfriend shrugged. 

“Is Columbus okay Dad?” you groaned to your brother on the phone.

“Shut up Y/N, I’m not trying to sound like a parent, as your older brother-” you cut him off. 

“Older by two minutes,” you rolled your eyes. 

“Still older, anyways I have to look after you,” he smiled, “and Adam it’s not you it’s her, have fun in Anaheim buddy.” With that last part, you hung up on him and put your phone back in your purse, you felt it buzz again but you ignored it.

“He’s so annoying sometimes,” you laughed. Adam’s face was serious though, he sat there looking straight ahead not even cracking a smile at what you said. You turned to look at Luca who was as confused as you are.

“Adam?” Luca said, no response. 

“Adam? What’s wrong?” you said resting your hand on his. His fingers locked with yours as he looked over at you. 

“I don’t want to go to Anaheim, I don’t want to leave you, I don’t think we can do that long of a distance, at least I’m only a 4-hour drive away rather than a 4-hour flight,” he said as he broke eye contact with you. 

“Adam you don’t seriously think I’m gonna listen to my brother,” you said.

“You won’t, but you should, you have to finish school, look babe this will be a new experience for both of us, but whatever happens I will always try my best to be there for you and make time for you and you know that I love you,” he said looking back up and taking your other hand. 

“But-”

“No buts, whether Anaheim or Columbus I will make time for you, it will be hard on us, but worth it in the end,” he kissed your cheek and let go of your hands facing back forward as the draft was starting. You looked back at your phone to see several messages from Rutger.

Sis, I’m sorry

Sis pick up

Fine don’t pick up whatever hope he ends up in Anaheim

I didn’t mean that, I mean I did

Fine ignore me stay mad

Draft is about to start…

You read through the stream of messages laughing at your brother. You smiled leaving your phone out in your lap so you could see more of Rutger’s commentary. You patiently waited as the first pick was announced, no surprise that it was Connor. Anaheim was on the clock and you were getting nervous, you felt your phone buzz in your lap and looked down. 

Why are they taking so long it’s obvious who they should pick. You were getting even more nervous, then you saw the pick was in. You and Adam looked at each other squeezing hands tightly, you looked over at Luca who had a little bounce in his leg.

“We are proud to select from the SHL Leo Carlsson,” with that announcement you let out the biggest sigh of relief, you and the Fantilli boys exchanged smiles. You put your phone back in your purse not wanting to deal with Rutger’s response, knowing him he was definitely upset, but you would rub it in his face when you got home. Quickly the third pick was put in place by Columbus. All three of you had smiles on your face as the team approached the stage. 

“The Columbus Blue Jackets are proud to select from University of Michigan, Adam Fantilli.” As the applause began you stood up with tears starting to form in your eyes, you were so proud of your boy. You held Adam tightly,

“I love you so much,” you whispered in his ear as he was letting go,

“I love you too,” he said as he made his way to his brother, he continued to his parents then went and approached the stage. You couldn’t pull yourself together, Luca rubbed your back as you wiped the tears from your face and the running mascara. Once that was over with you looked at your phone and saw more messages waiting from your brother. 

C’mon pick Smith pick Smith

DAMN IT

Stop crying you got what you wanted, yeah you’re crying on TV 🫥

Whatever congrats Adam, you still aren’t going to Columbus

They had one job

You showed Luca the messages causing him to chuckle, the two of you tried to come up with a clever response, but you couldn’t wait to rub it in your brother’s face. 

I WIN YOU LOSE RUTTY!

ROLL JACKETS BABY!

He hated that nickname you made for him, you knew he would be mad, but he wasn’t he was smiling at his phone from wherever he was watching knowing that his “little sister” was the happiest she had ever been. 

The rest of the day was boring until you got to see Adam again. You made your way with the Fantillis to where he was waiting for you. He hugged his parents once again, then Luca, and lastly you. Adam scooped you up and spun you around, as you cheered.

“You knew it, Adam, you really did,”

“Just a gut feeling,” he said putting you down but keeping his arm around your waist still keeping you close. The two of you sat down in the box you were in, while everyone else was busy talking.

“You sure I can’t come to Columbus with you?”

“One day Y/N,” he smiled as he pressed a kiss to your lips,

“One day,” you said taking a breath of air before your lips found his again.

_______________________________

I'm so happy he's on the jackets

[cumulo-stratus]

Embrace[s.r]

spencer doesnt feel like hes anything more than his intelligence, but ethan proves him wrong.

WARNINGS- angst, internalized homophobia, self esteem issues, crying, mentions of mommy issues

college au!Ethan x college au!spencer reid ][ hurt/comfort ][ masterlist!!

a/n- ok this is actually my first ship fic and im so excited!! i've been obsessed with Ethan x spencer ever since i started writing this! hope y'all enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing <3

1.25k

there was a soft breeze drifting through the window ruffling the non-existent curtains that no college student was going to spend their little money on. Instead there were some cheap shades provided by the university.

Ethan never minded his small means, his small dorm with a small bed despite being in his junior year. The bed was big enough to fit him and Spencer and that's all he cared about.

but tonight, in the dark room they weren't sitting on top together- no Spencer was hunched over himself his body wracking sob after sob, and ethan’s arms wrapped around him. they left comforting circles on his back, and squeezed spencer tightly against his chest.

the darkened room left both boys faces wailed by shadows, hiding spencers tear track stained cheeks from his best friend.

ethan’s hushed voice was deafening over the silence of the tiny dorm room. He whispered quiet small nothings into spencers ear.

spencers cheek was smushed into his best friends shoulder, and his face was in ethan’s neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his worn university sweatshirt.

spencers knees were pulled to his chest in a self soothing motion, and ethan’s arm wrapped around the ball of spencer in his lap. Spencer also had his arms wrapped tightly around ethan’s waist, white knuckle gripping the back of his sweatshirt.

spencer had never felt worth more than when he was with Ethan. Ethan saw him for more than a 187 IQ or a multiple degree nerd. To Ethan, spencer was a man who had humor, deep empathy, and so so much love to give.

And it was nights like these were sometimes spencer needed a little help remembering that.

after all, thats what best friends are for right?

by two am, spencers body didn’t have any more tears to cry. He was a tired cookie sinking into his best friend’s arms.

“i, im sorry,”

spencer sounded hesitant, voice still shaky and throat still frogged. Ethan only chuckled lightly to himself, causing spencers eyebrows to knit together slightly and his head to perk up from its place on the other boys shoulder at the sound.

“spencer you've nothin to be sorry for” ethan’s soothing drawl lulled spencers worries along with the bashful smile he held for the idiotic genius in front of him.

this caused a small smile to crawl its way onto spencers lips and a blush on his cheeks.

“everyone needs a lil’ reassurance sometimes- even geniuses like you spence,”

spence. only Ethan called him spence. spencer liked when ethan called him that. the only other person who had a nickname for him was his mother, and thats a whole other can of worms filled with mommy issues we dont have time for.

these reassuring words caused the aforementioned smile to grow on his lips a centimeter or two. Spencer had now raised his head to look directly at Ethan. Their faces were so close, they could feel each others breath warming the others’ lips.

Ethan couldn't help but let his eyes drift downwards to spencer’s pink lips, the moment getting the better of him. the young genius was too busy staring into ethan’s beautiful deep brown eyes.

the bearded man tentatively lifted a hand to spencers cheek. he cupped it gently, his thumb rubbing away the tear tracks littering spencers soft cheeks. Ethan could feel the heat rising to his already warm cheeks.

this caused spencer to smile a bit, his eyes crinkling slightly from joy and bashfulness. they reminded themselves of school girls, blushing and grinning for eachother.

Ethan leaned in closer without actually touching spencers face with his, if that was possible. though it was spencer who took the final leap to close the gap.

Spencers lips felt exactly how Ethan had imagined them for months, the kiss feeling electric as they danced. Ethan had been pining for his best friend for months, but this whole experience was new for spencer. He had never really kissed anyone, and he had never really imagined it being with a man. but it felt right. like so many things had just clicked into place and spencer felt at peace in ethan’s arms

finally pulling away air, they both grinned big bashful smiles at each other. “that was nice, i like doing that. i like kissing you.” Spencer the ever logical man of science stated them as facts, though the hearts in his eyes were far from logical.

“can i kiss you again?” Ethan phrased it more like a statement than a question, but the offer still stood. instead of a response, Ethan got a kiss, which i guess one could say is a response. this time neither was caught off guard, and they could enjoy it more.

spencer felt fireworks behind his eyes to say the least.

when the pair reluctantly pulled away for air again, Ethan couldn't help but stare into spencer blown, honey brown pupils. Thais caused spencer to blush, a warmth creeping up his cheeks, blending with the buzzing lingering on his lips left by ethan’s own lips.

“i like you, ethan, like a lot”

ethan chuckled a bit, not at spencers admittance, but at the fact he fel the need to say it. “oh really spence, we practically just made out. but for the record i like you to, like a lot” Ethan had a warm smile fas as he spoke, looking down at spencer, who was still resting the side of his head against ethan’s shoulder.

spencer blushed a little when Ethan called him out, but knew he only meant it lovingly. though lovingly was the only way ethan ever spoke to spencer.

Even before spencer collapsed into his arms crying when he came over to vent about classwork, even before Ethan comforted him with no hesitation, and even before they practically made out. which was why Ethan felt the need to support

“hey spence?”

“ya?”

“you know it’s okay that you kissed a guy, ive known i was into guys since freshman year, its okay.”

spencer looked down, fiddling with his fingers like he always did. Ethan took the opportunity to take spencers hands in his. “hey, honey, look at me, it’s okay.” spencer darted his eyes up to Ethan’s and he said with an obvious frog in his throat “its okay that I kissed you, its okay that im in love with you.”

ethan’s smile was warm at spencer’s words, and he placed a peck on his cheek. “thank you handsome, thats all i wanted to hear.” spencer was even more blushy at the pet name, leaning farther into ethan’s shoulder in the hopes of obscuring his face in the other boys sweater.

“you know if your in love with me, then i think that means we should be boyfriends, right?” Ethan had a playful tone, but the questions till stood.

“i think so too, boyfriend.” spencer spoke joyfully, a smile on his face as he placed one last kiss on his now boyfriends lips.

without any other words said the new couple laid down together. spencer laid with his back resting against his boyfriends chest as he curled in on himself.

Ethan took the opportunity as the big spoon to rest in face in spencers hair, the smell of his hair gel bringing comfort.

Spencer fell asleep to the sound of ethan’s breathing and the feeling of his boyfriend’s warmth against their skin. He felt like more than enough in ethan’s arms, in ethan’s embrace.

The End

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[buckyalpine]

Pretend

College bucky x best friend reader, jealous Sharon, Steve and Sam are goofs. 

all the fluffff Friends to lovers

This shit has been sitting in my drafts for months. Idk why I started this or where I wanted it to go but here with our with more sweet college Bucky. Finally decided to finish it. 

-

“Buck!”

“Hey nugget”

You plopped on the sofa beside him in the library, not even bothering to pull your notes out to study. You scrolled through your phone, leaning against Bucky while he worked on his term paper.

“I grabbed you your drink by the way” Bucky leaned over, grabbing a coffee cup off the table, handing it to you before returning to his laptop. You hummed contently, sipping on the warm liquid, your body heating up, not because you were drinking hot coffee but because you were snuggled against Bucky. One of your closest friends. Who also played football on campus. Not at all someone you had a crush on. Nope.  

Bucky bit his lip, term paper be damned, you were tucked right into his side and he was fighting himself not to wrap his arm around your waist to pull you closer. He huffed through his nose, reading the same paragraph ten times over, not once actually comprehending what it said. The soft scent of your shampoo was evading his senses and it didn’t help that your head was leaning onto his shoulder.

You both sat in comfortable silence, until the sound of clicking heels made its way towards where you were both seated. For fucks sake.

“Hey Jamesss” Sharon sauntered over, letting his name roll off her tongue, throwing him a bashful flirty smile, completely ignoring your presence.

“Hi Sharon” Bucky offered her a pained grimace, shifting uncomfortably as she twirled a piece of her hair, her eyes trailing up and down his toned form. You internally rolled your eyes, staying glued to your phone while she continued to eye fuck him. 

“Soooo I heard Sam’s having a party this weekend?” Yes, and you somehow weaseled your way into it, we know, you thought to yourself. “Will you be there?” They’re best friends, of course he’s going, are you daft?

“Uh, yeah” Bucky nodded, his soul dying a little with each passing minute.

“If you weren’t going with anyone-

“I’m going with my girl”

“Y-your girl?” Sharon gawked, her eyes growing wide as Bucky kissed your cheek. You squeaked feeling his lips press onto your skin; it wouldn’t have been the first time he kissed you like that but…never mind, play the part now, worry later.

Bucky smiled, his arm wrapping around you with ease. You cackled internally, happily slipping into your role as his pretend girlfriend, slinking onto his lap. You hit the nail on the coffin pressing a little kiss against his neck, nuzzling into his hold.

“That’s your girl?” She did her best to sound disgusted but she’d completely lost Bucky’s attention; the second you crawled into his lap, he was a goner. 

“Mhm, my pretty baby” Bucky murmured, his lips brushing against your cheek. It didn’t even look like he was talking to her anymore, saying it more to himself, loving the way you fit perfectly in his lap. You’d playfully sat in his lap before but this...the softness of your lips on his neck, the way you were relaxed in his arms....why the hell were you not actually his girlfriend, he’d always been in love with you anyway-

“Oh” Sharon cut of Bucky’s train of thought, shrugging, pretending she didn’t care, “Well, you know where to find me, see you there” she frowned when Bucky didn’t bother looking up at her, his eyes still trained on you, while you continued to cuddle into his chest. Sharon huffed, leaving the both of you gazing at each other, unaware she wasn’t even there anymore; Bucky’s hands moving to grip your waist, another slipping up your sweater. 

You shivered at the feel of his hands, your eyes flicking down to his lips, the both of you letting your eyes bounce to each others lips, eyes, both of your minds racing with feelings that had been hidden away. 

He’s so pretty

She’s always been my doll 

His arms are my safe place

She’s so perfect to cuddle with

I wish he saw me that way

I don’t know if she’d want to go out with me 

I love him

I love her 

You realized you’d stayed in Bucky’s lap for longer than necessary, gasping when he held you in place as you tried to scramble off. He pulled you closer, his nose bumping against yours, your hands going down to clutch onto his hoodie to find a way to ground yourself. 

Meanwhile, somewhere in a corner of the library

“Do they even realize Sharon left?”

“No”

“Your best friend is a dumbass, you know that?”

“He’s your bestfriend too”

“I can’t claim him when his game is this weak, y/n is literally in his lap and he’s just rubbing her like a fucking lamp, expecting her to grant him 3 wishes. Fucking kiss her” 

“He’s just nervous”

“BARNES, WILL YOU JUST KI-

“SHHH, it’s a library!”

“BARNES STOP ACTING LIKE A VIRGIN AND KISS HER-

Steve scrambled over, slapping his hand over Sam’s mouth, the two of them wrestling in the corner while Bucky continued to obliviously gaze at you. 

“So, I’m your girlfriend, huh?” You whispered, softly poking his side to tease him. 

“You most definitely are doll” He nodded, his heart nearly thrashing against his chest. “Better be convincing so she’ll leave me alone” He smirked, his blue eyes sparkling. “We’ll have to pretend all the time for her to really believe it” 

“Mhm, and how long do I have to pretend for?” You bit your lip, trying to hide your nervousness. 

“I don’t know, couple days” He kissed your lips softly, while your eyes grew wide, did he really just-“Or a new weeks” He kissed you again, smiling against your lips when you squeaked, “maybe even months” His pecks were so soft and gentle, you melted more each time, “possibly forever?” His looked at you with his sweet puppy eyes, hoping you’d feel the same way about the last option. 

He didn’t even realize the both of you had started to lean into each other until your lips touched, his eyes rolling back, desperate for more of your sweetness. You nuzzled into his touch further, softly moaning against his lips, parting them giving him more access to your mouth. Bucky couldn't help himself, gently tugging your hair, cupping your cheek to deepen the kiss, not letting you go until you both needed oxygen. You pulled away, unable to stop yourself from grinning. 

“You okay with forever, peanut?” Bucky looked down at you, having the same goofy grin plastered on his face, his lips brushing against yours, sneaking in a few more pecks before kissing your forehead. 

“Of course I’ll pretend with you forever, Buck” You shrugged as if it was obvious, climbing off him momentarily to pack your things. 

 “Y’know we might even have to pretend to get married some day to really make her believe it”  You squealed when he lifted you bridal style with ease, wrapping your arms around his neck while he carried you out of the library and to his car. 

“Hmm, maybe we can even have 2 babies, that’ll convince everyone” You raised a brow while Bucky bit his lip, his mind now going other places, 

“Hmm, I’d love to make some babies with you, doll” Bucky smirked, setting you down and opening the car door for you. “Let me take you on a pretend date first” 

Tags: @glxwingrxse  @hungryyeyess  @sebsgirl71479  @beabutterfly987  @teambarnes72  @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass  @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan  @buggy14  @whimsyplaty92  @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec   @pono-pura-vida   @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z  @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog  @happyt0exist   @emmabarnes  @bethyruth @matchat3a  @cjand10   @getwellsoontana  @cherryschaos   @lokisasgardianvampirequeen  @ashenc-blog  @buckybarnessimpp   @potatothots  @goldylions  @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog  @kingfleury   @peaches1958   @spiderman-stilinski   @peaceinourtime82  @gublur   @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46   @lolawassad  @almosttoopizza   @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess   @buckycallsmeaslut    @kamaria-sweet-writes  @charmedbysarge    @xnorthstar3x  @kryoee7 @alina02  @gh0stgurl    @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club  @eralen  @carrotfantasimp

[gurugirl]

A Good Boy Masterlist - (completed w/ extras)

A stepmom!reader x stepson!harry forbidden romance au

Summary: Harry's got the hots for his young stepmom and she's pretty fond of him too. But they're both trying really hard to be good.

A/N: In this 5 part series, Y/n meets her stepson, Harry, when he's already an adult in college. For the parts written, he is 21 and she is 27. She is 6 1/2 years older than he is.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, inappropriate / forbidden romance, smut, angst, cheating, lies & secrets, age gap

1. Surrender (21.4k words)

The one where they finally give in to their desires.

2. No Panties? (8.8k words)

Harry visits his dad and stepmom for dinner and he begs Y/n to let him stay in her room after Leo goes to bed.

3. Overheard (14.4k words)

Leo's out of town and someone finds out about their secret.

4. A Mistake (12.5k words)

Y/n goes to an event with Leo for Valentine's Day and Harry's upset. Hurt feelings lead to a messy fallout.

5. When In Greece (17.2k words)

A family vacation to Greece is meant to be peaceful and relaxing but when Y/n is forced to confront Harry about her feelings everything is turned upside down.

~ Extras & check-ins ~

The Morning After (2,360 words)

What happens the morning after Harry and Y/n wake up together. Did Leo hear them? Has their secret been exposed?

The Video (3.9k words)

Back at home after Greece Y/n and Leo have a serious talk about Parker and things seem to go well. But then something unexpected comes up that could blow Harry and Y/n's cover.

A Prequelish blurb (1k words)

Set from before Harry and Y/n admit feelings for one another: Harry's stepmom is moaning in her bedroom and Harry can't help himself. REQUEST

Tags: @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @shishcabobsworld @daphnesutton @spinnerswife69 @holy-macncheese-balls @cookielovesbook-akie @lilfreakjez @itsgigikay

[ogsmog]

I don’t know if someone has done this already but I need a fan fiction of a college au where deku has the same quirk as his mother and can move small objects, so he never got into ua but still came across the deku squad and are friend with them and there is a party going on and someone from the deku squad invite deku and he then re-in counters bakugou which re-opens up his feeling that he had tried to push down for so long. A small group of probably the bakusquad and deku squad playing spin the bottle and when ever it’s Izuku turn he subtly uses his quirk to make the bottle land on bakugou and also uses his quirk so the only person who can make it land on him is bakugou.

I would assume that it would end with them getting together or at least having bakugou find out that izuku had used his quirk that night. Use your imagination to finish it ig. :D

I just thought it was a cute idea :))



[farfromsugafanfic]

Rebound | Chapter One: Cherry Picking

Genre: College AU, Basketball Captain!Yoongi, Basketball Captain!Reader, Idiots to Lovers, slight Rivals to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort

Pairing: Yoongi/Reader

Rating: M

Chapter Warnings: break up, implied cheating, cursing/sexual language

Synopsis: You and Yoongi always catch each other on the rebound. Notes: The first chapter! Enjoy x

Series Masterlist | Next

vVv

You hated the days where the girl's basketball team was forced to practice with the boys. It meant that you'd have to deal with the smell of boy sweat, being blatantly checked out, and many of the guys making fools of themselves as they tried to show off. Not to mention, you didn't like giving away your plays to the boy's team. Sure, you all played for the same university, but with an even amount of championship wins, this year, the competition was between the boys and the girls and who would be able to bring home another title that year.

And, you'd caught the boy's captain, Min Yoongi watching you as you ran through plays with your team. However, it wasn't the glances like you were used to from the rest of his team, the ones that lingered over your body and left you feeling like you needed a shower. No, Yoongi was watching each step of your foot, each time you faked a pass, or threw a basket. He was learning from you, and that was completely unacceptable.

You and Yoongi has been playing together since you were in high school. Now, as seniors in college, it was both of yours last chance to earn a championship for your respective teams. You both had previous championship wins, but the boys and girls never won a championship in the same year. And, this year, it was going to be yours.

"Yah, Min Yoongi! Why don't you come down here and show off your own strategy instead of stealing mine?!"

"I wasn't stealing," he said. "I was admiring." A smirk crossed his face quickly, fading so quickly you weren't sure it had even been there at all. "But, fine. Come on boys, let's play some defense."

Yoongi called over his team and instructed his starters to get into their respective defensive positions. His eyebrow arched as he got into position in front of you, his stance low and his arms out. Yoongi was known for his defense, in fact, it had turned many games. If your offense could beat Min Yoongi, it could beat anybody.

"Captain on Captain," he said, his momentary smirk returning. "Let's make this interesting. Whoever loses has to stay and clean up. Both locker rooms."

You shrugged, you often stayed for hours after practice anyway, but the thought of having to clean the boy's locker room made you want to throw up. However, you agreed—not willing to back down—and waited for the coach to blow the whistle, signaling for you to begin.

You began dribbling the ball and headed towards the basket. Yoongi was right there with you, his chest less than an inch from you. You stopped and passed the ball to a teammate before booking it over to the side of the basket where she passed it back to you.

It was a fairly simple play--the ball only being passed between you two--unless for some reason either of you was otherwise occupied. It depended on your teammates moving around to keep their defenders busy while the two of you used the free space to your advantage.

Yoongi attempted to catch the pass, his fingertips connecting with the ball, but you managed to catch it and throw it up at the basket before he could get a grip. The ball bounced off the basket and rebounded in your direction.

Yoongi managed to catch the rebound and started dribbling down the court. You defended him, but he was faster than he looked. You managed to get in his face just as he shot the ball up towards the basket, but it didn't faze him and the ball sunk into the basket.

You cursed under your breath. You turned--attempting to retrieve the ball--and your ass rubbed against Yoongi's thigh and you could practically hear the smirk break out across his face.

The game continued fairly uneventfully. The boys were two points ahead due to a lucky three point shot. It was the last half of the final quarter and you had to do something. You carefully signaled to your team to do a play that involved passing the ball excessively before one of your teammates finally passes it back to you and you go for the three point shot. You could think of nothing sweeter than winning by one point.

The play went smoothly with the ball coming back to you. Yoongi had only left your side for a moment in an attempt to catch the pass back to you, but as he quickly discovered what you were planning, he lunged towards you. Attempting to stop the ball from its ascent, he had too much momentum and smacked right into you. The ball's ascent becoming much sharper and landing far short of the basket.

You--on the other hand--had fallen straight backwards. Luckily, your butt broke your fall and you rolled onto your side and curled into a ball, out of breath from the shock. You heard the whistle blown--indicating that Yoongi fouled you--and it brought you back to reality.

Everyone seemed to be asking if you were okay, in a flurry of questions that only made you feel dizzy. You simply offered a quick nod and made your way to the free throw line. You easily made the two free shots, tying up the game.

The whistle sounded. "Games over," the coach said. "Looks like the teams are pretty evenly matched." He nodded at you and Yoongi. He dismissed practice and you turned to look at Yoongi.

"So, I guess the bet's off? Since we tied? We'll each just clean our own?"

Yoongi shrugged. "I don't mind doing both. I didn't mean to hurt you."

You laughed. "I'm fine, Yoongi. You've seen me take worse falls."

"I know, it's just--I caused this one--"

"Well, if you really want to clean the girl's locker room, it's fine. Just text me first or something so I can make sure everyone's out."

vVv

You didn't register Yoongi's text as you sat underneath your office desk. Your legs pulled into your chest as you tried to steady your breaths. He had to have known you were in your office by now. He'd been at practice and was probably changing when he sent the simple text.

"I'm breaking up with you, Y/N."

You knew your now--ex-boyfriend had probably left already--probably already had another date lined up. God, you hoped it wasn't with one of the other girls on your team. Partially because of the awkwardness, but also, because every girl on your team deserved better than a boy who would break up through text.

You heard a hesitant knock on the door. You huddled down closer underneath your desk, hoping that if you could keep your sobs quiet enough, whoever it was would just go away.

"Anyone still in here?" you heard Yoongi ask, as he peeked into the empty locker in room. Your office was connected to the locker room, but the blinds on your window were closed and your door was closed. You pulled your legs as close as they could possibly get to your body and pressed your head into your knees, hoping Yoongi would clean and leave thinking simply that you'd left already.

You heard as he shuffled around the locker room picking up half drank water bottles and making sure all the locks were secure. Your sobs were building up in your chest and you feared you couldn't hold them back. You inhaled sharply, but the exhale came out shaky. You whimpered, trying to hold the tears back.

The nearly completely concrete room carried sound better than some music rooms and it was only a moment later the shuffling paused.

"Y/N?"

You stayed quiet, even forgetting to breath for a few moments. You weren't sure how he immediately knew it was you. Maybe it was because you were always known to stay after practice and do your homework or work on strategy, often not leaving until it was dark. Or, maybe you two had simply played long enough together he could tell you from the others on the team.

You phone vibrated, somehow reverberating off the walls. It was simply reminding you of Yoongi's unread text and you muttered a silent curse as you heard the shuffling stop once again.

"Y/N?" he asked again, this time approaching the door to your office.

You closed your eyes and tried not to notice how the light was suddenly blinding you, even with your eyes shut.

"Y/N, what are you doing down there?" he asked. "Wait, what happened?"

You opened your eyes and looked up at the boy who was crouched down in front of your desk and examining you with his frustratingly puppy like eyes.

"It's nothing," you said, crawling out from underneath your desk and leaning against it and crossing your arms. Yoongi followed you, standing up, but not leaving the room.

"It's not nothing," he said. "I haven't seen you cry this much since you broke your wrist at championships Freshman year."

"At least I made the shot though," you said, smiling for half a second before it faded.

"I-I didn't hurt you earlier, did I?"

You shook your head. "No, really, Yoongi, I'm fine. It's stupid."

Yoongi stood in silence, waiting for you to explain. He wasn't going to leave without an explanation or a fight, and you were too exhausted to argue with the boy. Normally, when you were grumpy, he was the first person you picked a fight with, but you hated him seeing you in your weakened state. And, you knew he would see through your attempts at trying to argue for what they were--trying to annoy him into leaving.

"Isn't Ji-yoo waiting for you?" you asked, your attempt at stalling causing him to sigh and release the tension in his shoulders. You knew mentioning his girlfriend was a sure fire way to piss him off, but the girl was sweet and a decent player. You honestly didn't want her to have to wait on your problems.

"Y/N, just tell me what happened. We've known each long enough. I'm not gonna tell any of the boys about this."

Your eyes shifted away from him and your hands gripped the desk, your knuckles turning white. You held back another sob that has built up during the conversation, feeling more pathetic than ever.

"Chan-woo broke up with me," you said. "He texted me a little before you did." The sob came out and you hid your face in your hands.

You felt Yoongi's body envelope yours. You immediately fell into his warmth, your face hiding in his black T-shirt. You could still smell his body wash and a small hint of a musky cologne. He'd obviously showered just after practice and you couldn't be more thankful as you took in his scent and you felt yourself relax against him and the desk.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice soft and deep. It was the voice he used when he pitied you. His arm tightened around your back and you propped your chin on the center of his chest. He looked down at you, his free hand coming up to carefully brush some of your still damp hair from your face. "I know we're not really friends, but I don't like to see you upset. What happened to the Y/N from high school? You were the one breaking hearts then."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes playfully. "Like yours? Remember when you asked me to homecoming and I said no?" You dragged your fingertip over his chest and felt his gaze harden. Not maliciously, but enough to make you pause.

Your body tensed again under his gaze. His dark eyes looking at you in a way you couldn't describe. His gaze felt warm, but it was like sitting too close to a fire, the sparks began to burn.

"Yes," he said. "Yes, I do remember. I also remember driving you home after you got stood up that night."

You pulled away, losing his warmth was nearly painful, but you wiped your eyes, the tears having stopped spilling. The sobs were no longer in your throat, but you could still feel where they sat.

"Oh yeah," you said. "I, uh, forgot about that."

"I know you're upset, but you deserve better. You know that, right?"

"No, its okay. I know. He was a jerk, anyway, and I really should've seen this coming. I always saw the way he looked at the other girls on the team. I don't really know why I'm so upset about it. I know I shouldn't be cause he was probably cheating on me anyway, but--"

Yoongi's lips cut yours off. It caught you off guard, but your hands seemed to naturally gravitate towards his freshly washed and still half damp hair and your legs spread allowing him to come closer. His hands anchored to the desk on either side of your hips. The kiss was short, but heated, and when he pulled away you felt yourself yearning for him to come back.

"Stop talking about him," Yoongi said. "It'll make you feel worse."

"Yoongi, what was that?"

"You were rambling."

You couldn't help but let out a girlish giggle at his excuse. Yoongi's eyes seemed to soften when you laughed, but his posture was still tense, his hands still resting on either side of you, and his body still so much closer than you two got outside of the court.

"I never liked the way he talked about you in the locker room," he said, his head lowering slightly. His gaze falling from yours.

"Mmm, is that right? How'd he talk about me?"

Yoongi seemed surprised at your response, but his gaze shot back to yours. It had darkened though, from a look of concern to one of need.

"All the things he wanted to do to you," he said, his voice becoming raspy and breathless. You noticed his gaze slipping downward, although you had no idea where.

"Like what?"

Yoongi's right hand moved from the desk and onto your thigh, pushing up your basketball shorts slightly. His fingertips brushed the edge of your panties, but he didn't attempt to go any further.

"He wanted to fuck you on the court. Right at half court."

"Is that all?"

"Well, he was more specific, but I'll spare you the details."

Yoongi's face was dangerously close to your own, your foreheads nearly colliding.

"Don't guys talk about that stuff all the time?"

"Yeah, but it was different."

"Why?"

Yoongi knew you were baiting him, but as his fingers began to slowly massage the skin of your thigh, he seemed to care less.

"Cause it was about you."

"What makes me so different, Min Yoongi?"

He didn't answer the hair on his forehead tickling your skin.

"Is it cause you've known me so long I've become like a sister to you?"

"No," he said.

"Is it cause you have your own fantasies about me?"

Again, he didn't say anything, but he bit his lip and let out a shallow grunt that seemed to be in affirmation. "Just cause your glances are subtle, Yoongi, doesn't mean I don't notice."

His glance was less than subtle coming to rest at your lips and finally meeting your eyes full of something primal.

"What do you want to do to me, Yoongi?"

His lips brushed against the skin on your neck—testing the waters—and when your neck lulled back allowing him full access. He was eager and immediately his tongue came into contact with your skin and made you shiver.

"I want to fuck you on this desk," he said.

"Then, do it." One of your hands returned to his hair, while the other played with the hem of his T-shirt. "And, don't spare me any of the details."

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[velvetcake96]

Working on that Modern trenchler AU I was talking about last night, trying to work on it as much as possible before I go back to college! So this is me putting it out in the world to be held accountable for finishing it, this can be ignored.

(Clancy might be a bit of a mess…)

[thornbushrose]

Headcanon: College!Matt pranks College!Foggy

We hear about Foggy pranking Matt in college, but you know Matt pranked him back.

So one evening they're heading back to their dorm when Matt suddenly "remembers" he needs to go to the library. He leaves Foggy at a casual pace and Foggy continues home to their room.

Where he finds Matt already there, sprawled on his bed with an earbud in his ear.

"Hey," Foggy says, looking confused. "I thought you were going to the library?"

"I did." Matt holds up the box of the audiobook he checked out this morning when Foggy wasn't around.

"But, how did you get back so fast?"

"I had already ordered it. I was just picking it up."

"But. Still. You would have had to pass me on the sidewalk."

Matt shrugs and waves at his dark glasses. "I kinda rely on you to say something when that happens, buddy."

"But that's just it. I didn't see you."

"You were obviously distracted. Did you run into Marci or Sonia or someone?"

"No. I came straight here."

Matt frowns. "You must have been walking pretty slowly."

"Why?" Foggy glances at his alarm clock, which Matt has set ahead by an hour and a half, and sputters. "What the hell? Nine o'clock???" He turns to the wall clock, which Matt has also altered. "Nine o'clock????"

"I keep telling you, you need to wear a watch," Matt says, putting his earbud back in and rolling over. "You get distracted sometimes."

Foggy stands there for a minute, staring blankly. Finally he says, "Next term, I'm not taking this many classes. It's messing with my brain."

Matt hopes Foggy won't notice his shoulders shaking in laughter.