#the only acceptible summer body goals are 'i want my body to keep up with what I wanna do'

[seiya-starsniper]

I wish you would write a fic where...

…Hob is a little insecure about his body in comparison to Dream. Dream is wondering why his love only wants to have sex in the dark…

I need some hurt/comfort 🥹

Oh man friend, I started writing this thinking it wouldn't be super long and then 9.7k words later...😅

Still gonna post the whole thing on tumblr since this IS a tumblr prompt, but it's probably best read on AO3 for length reasons lmao. I hope you enjoy this angst train!

Cruel Summer - AO3

Also tagging @dreamlingbingo as I'm using this fill for my free space!

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The first time it happens, Dream doesn't think too much about it. There's not a lot of thinking going on period, not really. Dream's only focused on the touch and taste and feel of Hob Gadling’s body against his as they drunkenly make out against the latter’s front door.

They’d been out tonight celebrating with their friends, all of them having finally achieved some hard earned life goal. Matthew and Jessamy were engaged, and planning a marriage out on Cape Cod the following summer, Lucienne had gotten promoted as an archivist at Harvard, Mervyn had finally launched his own cybersecurity firm, and Dream had just signed a publishing deal for the novel he’d been working on for the past two years. His editing team was even based out of Boston, even if their main headquarters was in New York, which made Dream’s life much easier. 

Hob…well. Hob’s celebration was more muted than the rest. He’d just landed a job at Harvard as well, working as a professor, so he and Lucienne were now technically coworkers. And while it was a fantastic opportunity with decent pay, and mostly free summers, it had come at the cost of his relationship with Eleanor, his longtime girlfriend. 

Eleanor had accepted a job across the country working as a marketing lead for a lifestyle clothing brand based out of Seattle. She’d wanted the position more than anything, but Hob hadn’t wanted to move, so they broke up. Hob insists it was all amicable, and that he’d miss everyone too much if he’d actually left, but they all knew Hob had been thinking about proposing.

Dream knows all this, and yet, when it had just been the two of the left at the bar and Hob had started openly flirting with him alone, instead of just playfully flirting with every single one of their friends, Dream had decided, “why not”, and matched the other man’s energy until they were suddenly making out just outside the bar while they waited for the Uber Hob called for them. It’s still the beginning of summer and not terribly hot outside, but Dream’s still grateful for the cool AC of the car that eventually comes to get them to drive the short distance back to Hob’s apartment.

When Hob finally unlocks the door and they practically fall into the front hall, Dream messily kicks off his shoes and works his way towards undoing Hob’s belt in between kisses. Hob wrangles them down the hall and towards his bedroom and Dream thinks vaguely about turning on the lights when they finally cross the threshold. But then Hob pushes him down into the mattress and Dream stops thinking about anything at all. 

-----------------

The second time that it happens, a little over a month later, Dream is helping Hob clean up his apartment after their monthly movie night with their friends. They had all decided on rewatching Jurassic Park after Mervyn and Lucienne had gotten into a debate on whether or not dinosaurs looked stupid with or without feathers. But it had taken the group some time for them to even start the movie, since they had mostly gotten wrapped up with different bits of work and life gossip. It was rare that they were all able to get together like this, so the movie was a secondary concern for them.

During the movie, however, Matthew and Jessamy’s wedding planner called them about something that needed their attention immediately, and though they said it was fine to keep the movie running, they’d paused it anyways. Not even ten minutes after they wrapped up their call, Mervyn had to take a work call from a client suffering from some server issues. 

Needless to say, it was nearly midnight by the time they finished the movie, and since only Dream and Hob had nothing to do the next morning, Dream had offered to stay late to help clean up and then crash on Hob’s couch for the night.

That is, at least, the story they tell their friends. The dishes and the food end up abandoned as Hob pushes Dream into the couch cushions and palms his cock through his black jeans. Dream moans and ruts beneath the other man, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling Hob in for a desperate, filthy kiss. They make out like teenagers for what seems like hours, the taste of buttery popcorn and overly sweet margarita mix mingled in every kiss. Dream isn’t nearly as drunk as he was that first night, but he’s got a pleasant buzz going, which really only adds to the whole illicit nature of what they’re doing. Neither of them had mentioned the first time they’d fucked to any of their friends, they’d barely talked about just between the two of them, really. 

Dream had figured maybe they could talk about it tonight after everyone had gone home but well. He’d gotten distracted with Hob’s mouth.

When they finally move from the couch to the bedroom, Dream turns the lights on, but then Hob turns them right back off as Dream’s getting undressed. 

“Are you one of those people who prefers to have sex in the dark?” Dream asks, laughing as Hob crawls on top of him, shedding his shirt and underwear along the way. 

“Mmmm,” Hob says, putting his mouth on Dream’s neck instead of answering the question. Dream gasps as the other man bites down on that one sensitive spot just below his ear. “Don’t wanna get up later to turn them off.”

Dream hums, and that’s the end of that conversation as his mind floats away to far more interesting pursuits.

-----------------

The third time almost feels like a date. Almost. They don’t exactly plan to get together, just the two of them, it just sort of happens because Matthew had gotten sick, and Jessamy hadn’t wanted to leave him alone to fend for himself. She also wasn’t entirely sure if she was contagious herself and wanted to be safe. Mervyn was on call for a client this weekend so he wasn’t going out with them anyways, and Lucienne had decided she’d rather stay at home and catch up on some of her backlogged work rather than attend the Oktoberfest event they’d all bought tickets to. 

Hob had texted Dream individually and suggested they go out anyway, just the two of them, and Dream’s heart had stuttered in his chest when he’d read the message. Hob had suggested a new restaurant that had opened up near his apartment, and while it wasn’t necessarily a first date sort of place, it was still a bit nicer than any of the places they’d go with their friends for just drinks or a quick bite to eat. 

Dream agonizes for over an hour on what he should wear, before he ultimately defaults to what feels most natural to him, black jeans and a solid black polo instead of his usual band t-shirt, which he then pairs with a charcoal gray blazer, just to look a little nicer. But not too nice, just in case this isn’t a date. 

Hob, much to Dream’s disappointment, is in his regular outfit of a graphic tee and sweats when Dream arrives. He’s not terribly out of place in the restaurant, but he’s clearly not dressed to impress. He eyes Dream very appreciatively though, and doesn’t comment on why Dream’s a little more dressed up than usual. What he does do, however, is spend the evening whispering into Dream’s ear about how he’d like to peel that blazer off Dream and make him wear it while they fuck.

They only make it through a single round of drinks before they leave, with Hob leaving their server behind a more than generous tip for wrapping up their bill so quickly. 

Hob wastes no time divesting Dream of his blazer and tossing it down the hallway towards the bedroom before turning his attention back to kissing Dream senseless. He sinks to his knees and Dream moans as the other man then works at peeling his jeans off so he can blow Dream right in the front hall, up against the front door where anyone can walk by and hear. It makes everything that much hotter.

Later, when all Dream is left wearing is his blazer and nothing else, Hob gets up from where they’re kissing on the bed to turn off the lights and Dream frowns.

“You can just leave the lights on,” Dream says, before he coyly spreads his legs and shows off his best seductive pose to tempt Hob back to bed. Hob stares, transfixed at Dream’s posturing, before he huffs and then clicks off the lights anyways. Dream groans in annoyance and Hob laughs before he kisses Dream again.

“Sorry, just easier with the lights off,” Hob says, not sounding sorry at all. “Don’t worry about it too much.”

But Dream does worry. He doesn’t in the moment, but he does later, when they’re lying beside each other, Hob snoring away while Dream thinks and thinks and thinks. He thinks about how Hob always wants the lights off, and how he never cuddles with Dream after sex. He thinks about how they really only ever get together when it's convenient, but they've never made plans on their own, at least, not since Hob and Eleanor have broken up. 

Dream realizes, with a growing dread, that maybe Hob still isn't over Eleanor, that maybe all there is between them is sex, and nothing else. It makes an awful sort of sense; in the dark, Dream can't tell if Hob’s thinking about someone else, hoping for someone that's not Dream. Eleanor and Dream couldn't be anymore different but that hardly matters to a man with a broken heart. A warm body is a warm body after all, and Dream's the only other single person in their friend group.

If Hob's a little bit confused as to why Dream is a bit short with him in the morning he doesn't show it. Somehow that makes the pit in Dream's stomach worse.

-----------------

The fourth time—there isn’t a fourth time because Dream fucks it all up.

Dream had met with his publisher earlier in the day, and the meeting had gone rather…poorly. His editor had straight up told him that he’d needed to make significant changes to the book, and Dream had argued until he was hoarse but to no avail. He’d then been told to go home and sleep on things, effectively being dismissed like a petulant child who’d thrown a tantrum in public.

Dream knew he had a good story. He also knew that some of the suggested changes were good ones, while others would fundamentally change the story he was trying to tell. But still, the sheer amount of changes had overwhelmed him, and Dream had lost his temper. He already knows, with a growing dread, that he’ll have to make some apologies the next day.

He’s about to go home, but Dream decides instead he’d like to get as drunk as humanly possible to wash the bitter taste of the day from his mind. He texts the group chat, and since it’s a Friday night, they all respond with enthusiasm to blow off some steam for the weekend. Everyone except for Hob, who says he’s not feeling like socializing tonight, but he’s sorry Dream had such a shitty day. 

Dream tries not to be disappointed that Hob won’t show up. He wonders if he’d just invited Hob by himself, instead of texting their group, would he have come out, just for Dream? But they don’t do things like that, even with how long they’ve been friends. Before they started sleeping together, Hob and Dream had always just sort of existed together in the same circle of friends. Dream had actually met Eleanor first, and Hob only when they started dating. Dream has never spent any amount of alone time with Hob before now, and he still doesn’t know what sort of relationship they even have, if any at all. 

Dream’s worries leave his mind when the others show up. Mervyn stays for only one round of drinks, and Matthew and Jessamy only two before they head out for the evening. They have an early appointment with the planner the next day to do some cake tastings. Lucienne stays the longest, though she really only nurses the same glass of wine the entire night. She talks Dream through his frustrations with his editors, and his overall story. She’s been with him every step of the way to getting this publishing deal, and Dream hasn’t told her yet, but she’s going to be the front page of his acknowledgements. 

He’s so tempted to unload on her about Hob as well, but before he can gather the courage to broach the subject, she gets a text from someone and blushes furiously when she reads it. Dream pokes and prods until she admits she’s started seeing someone. Johanna. She’s not sure if it’s serious yet but well. They’re definitely physically compatible, and while she won’t show Dream her phone, he already knows she’s been sent something particularly provocative. So Dream lets her go, and then debates between ordering another drink or going home. 

He does neither of those things, and instead pulls out his phone and texts Hob, outside their group chat. The alcohol has more than loosened Dream’s inhibitions and right now, he’s lonely and horny. Lucienne’s reserved but still elated expression as she had happily explained Johanna had made Dream miss Hob. So he texts the other man and tells him he’d like to come over.

Hob’s response isn’t what he’s hoping for: are you drunk?

Dream frowns at his phone and then his initial message: aree tou busy?? Can i comeocer?

Okay, maybe he was a little more drunk than he realized. He asks Hob if it matters, being careful this time to make sure he types everything out carefully, and then closes out his tab while he waits for a response. Nothing comes. Dream’s annoyed and disappointed, but not surprised, so he starts to make his way to the train platform to head home. 

While he’s waiting, he finally gets a response back from Hob: okay. come over.

Dream changes platforms immediately and heads in the direction of Hob’s apartment. 

When he arrives, Hob pushes a glass of water towards him, which Dream drinks down greedily. When he’s done, he joins Hob on the couch and crawls into his lap to kiss him, but Hob pushes him away after only a few moments. Dream lets out an annoyed noise when Hob does it again. 

“Dream, not tonight,” Hob says, pushing him away when Dream tries to kiss him again.

“What do you mean?” Dream asks, now confused. 

“I don’t want to have sex right now,” Hob replies, before he pushes Dream off of him and back onto the couch, going back to watching whatever crime drama he’d had on before Dream arrived.

Dream stares, open mouthed and hurt, as Hob decidedly ignores him for Netflix. He gets up angrily and stomps around the kitchen, tearing open the cabinets looking for something to eat, and also more water because now he has a pounding headache as his body struggles to sober up now that he’s no longer drinking. 

“Dream!” Hob exclaims, getting up when Dream slams more than one cabinet door closed. “Come on, don’t be like this.”

“Like what?” Dream sneers, stuffing a potato chip into his mouth angrily. “I came all this way just to fuck you, didn’t I?”

“You’re drunk,” Hob points out.

“I’m always drunk when we have sex,” Dream argues, crossing his arms, chip bag still in hand. “You’ve never had a problem with it before.” 

“Yeah well, I’m not drunk now, and I’m also not in the mood,” Hob replies angrily. 

“Then why the hell did you invite me over?” Dream growls. 

“I don’t know!” Hob exclaims, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I wasn’t thinking, obviously,” he adds, then gestures to Dream. “How was I supposed to know you’d be like this?”

Dream huffs, then carelessly tosses the bag of chips onto the counter. A few stray chips scatter across the counter, but Dream doesn’t care. Clearly Hob didn’t want him around, not for sex, and definitely not to comfort Dream after the awful day he’d had, so there was no point in staying. 

“Fine, I’ll go,” Dream says, moving towards the door where he’d kicked off his shoes. He decides he’ll check the train times on the walk over.

“Dream,” Hob says, grabbing his arm before he can make it to the hallway. “It’s late. Come on. Let’s go to sleep.”

“I can get home on my own just fine,” Dream argues, raising his chin defiantly.

“No,” Hob replies, his voice stern as he grips Dream’s arm tighter. “Come on, let’s just go to bed. You need to sleep this off.”

“I can sleep on the couch,” Dream says, yanking his arm out of Hob’s grip. “Since you’re not interested in fucking my bad day out of me.”

“Dream, stop being so fucking difficult!” Hob yells, shocking both of them.

The echo of Hob’s roar hangs tensely between them, and Hob steps back from Dream with a hand over his mouth, clearly horrified at what he’s done. Dream also feels the prick of tears in his eyes as he processes just how angry Hob actually has been with him all night. 

How the hell had this night gotten worse? Dream doesn’t know, but what he does know is that he needs to leave before he starts drunkenly crying in Hob’s apartment, and Hob is the last person Dream wants to see him like this. 

Dream tries making his way towards the door again, but Hob seems to regain his senses and physically blocks him. Dream tries to push him, then tries to hit Hob’s shoulder to make him move, but Hob grabs Dream’s wrist to stop him. 

“I’m sorry,” Hob says, his voice much softer this time, laced with regret and pity. Dream hates it. “I lost my temper, I shouldn’t have done that,” he adds.

“Fuck off!” Dream yells, and oh. No. No, no, no, no. Dream furiously blinks back the tears before they can start falling, even if he can’t stop the pained hiccups that betray his emotional state from leaving his mouth.

“Just—” Dream gasps, then forces himself to breathe, slow and deep, and then counts to five. “Let me go home. You don’t—” his breath hitches again, cutting off what he wants to say. Fuck. He couldn’t even string together a full sentence if he tried.

“Dream, please,” Hob replies, his voice practically begging now. “Don’t leave. I don’t want you going home alone like this.” Dream turns to meet Hob eyes, and his anger dissipates slightly when he sees how devastated Hob looks. 

Despite how awful Dream feels, even he knows it’d be a mistake to go home in his current state. He’s highly emotional, drunk, and likely wouldn’t be paying attention to his surroundings. He could get mugged, or worse. 

“Fine,” Dream finally relents. Hob lets out a sigh of relief, and hugs him. Dream doesn’t hug him back. He’s still angry after all. 

But Dream lets Hob wrangle him down the hall to the bedroom, and then he strips down to his underwear to sleep, since he doesn’t have any of his own clothes here. And why would he? It’s not like they’re anything other than an occasional hookup after all. 

Hob does offer Dream a shirt and pajama pants to wear, but Dream tosses them away from him without so much as a second glance. Hob sighs at Dream, and then shuts off the lights, turning away from Dream without another word to sleep. He’s clearly still frustrated with Dream too.  

Dream lies there next to Hob, feeling cold and rejected and lonely. He hates everything about this. Hates that Hob let him come over and make a fool out of himself when he could have easily just told Dream to fuck off and go home instead. Hates that Hob even came onto him in the first place, all those months ago, and now they’re here, in this weird in-between state where they're together but not together. 

Dream realizes too late that he really hadn’t cared if they had sex or not either. He’d wanted comfort more than anything, comfort from Hob specifically. But the only comfort he knew that came from Hob was sex. And that’s the worst part of it. Dream knows now, without a doubt, that he has feelings for Hob. That he wants more out of this than what they’re doing now, but he’s not sure Hob does. At this point, he’s too afraid to ask. 

Hob’s bedroom suddenly feels like a suffocating prison as all of Dream’s feelings hit him at once. He’s going to cry again if he stays, and he really doesn’t want Hob to see him like this. He doesn’t want Hob to know just how badly he’s gotten under Dream’s skin. 

Dream realizes he needs to leave. He’s stone cold sober now, having laid here in the dark with nothing but his thoughts and his third glass of water now emptied on the bedside table. He listens carefully for the evening out of Hob’s breath, then shuffles around in bed to see if any of his movements disturb the other man. When he’s certain that Hob is deep in sleep, Dream hurriedly dresses himself, checks to see that there’s still trains running this late at night, and then rushes out when he sees the next one is in just 15 minutes. Hob lives about 12 minutes from the nearest station. Dream can make it if he runs. 

The front door slams loudly behind him as he leaves, but Dream doesn’t care. Hob probably won’t even notice that he’s gone. 

Dream makes it to the station just as the train is pulling into the stop. As he’s getting on, he hears yelling and frantic running, the sounds of someone about to miss the train.  Dream considers holding the doors until he sees just who's rushing towards the train.

It's Hob. Hob who is barely dressed, and running down the steps to the train platform in nothing but sweatpants and slippers. He catches Dream's eyes and waves frantically to get his attention. Dream’s heart flutters momentarily, and he imagines that maybe he was wrong about everything after all. That maybe there’s more to what’s been happening between them than just rebound sex.

Dream gets on the train anyways, and the doors shut just as Hob reaches the platform, and the train pulls away. 

-----------------

They pretend like nothing is wrong after that night. Hob had texted Dream the next morning to ask if he’d gotten home okay, and Dream had left him on read. He had far more important things to worry about that morning, like his pounding headache and the fact that he needed to talk to his editor at some point.

When he finally fights off the last of his hangover, Dream has a much more pleasant conversation with his editing team, who he apologizes to for losing his temper. His team apologizes to him as well, which he doesn’t expect, but they reassure him it’s their job to encourage him, not discourage him from writing. They have a candid conversation about communication, and then agree on a plan to move forward with his book.

Dream happily shares the good news with his group chat, still ignoring the direct message from Hob. He credits Lucienne for talking him off the ledge the night before, and the flood of positive and congratulatory messages flows easily after that. Even from Hob. 

Dream sighs when he reads the other man’s message in their group chat, then flips back to their private conversation. He really should apologize for his behavior as well, but he has no idea how to explain himself without revealing more than he’s comfortable with. So Dream turns off his phone, and goes back to working on his novel, hoping that maybe he’ll come up with something to say later in the evening.

He never does end up replying. Hob doesn’t privately message him either after that.

-----------------

It’s trivia night at the White Horse, and Dream would normally be excited to go and show off his arcane knowledge, but tonight he’s dreading the occasion. It’s been a month since he and Hob had last seen each other and he really has no idea how he’s supposed to act around the other man. Do they pretend like nothing ever happened between them? They haven’t spoken since, so things were clearly over between them. 

Dream’s still trying to tell himself it’s better this way. They were hurtling towards disaster, and Dream should’ve really known better, should’ve known that he really can’t do casual after all, and now he’s probably permanently fucked up his friendship with Hob because he couldn’t keep his own feelings in check. He still hasn’t apologized, he doesn’t know if Hob even wants an apology from him at this point, or if he just wants to forget about everything that ever happened between them. 

So when Dream’s sister texts him and tells him she’s in town for a few days, Dream jumps at the opportunity to meet her and cancel on trivia night plans. He receives a variety of boos and ‘we’ll lose without you!’ responses, all of which make him smile despite himself. Even Hob laments the loss of Dream’s knowledge for the evening. 

When Dream arrives at The New Inn later that night, it’s not only his sister that greets him. Eleanor is with her. Dream hasn’t seen her since she and Hob broke up. When she’d moved across the country, she left the group chat and hasn’t really talked to anyone since. Dream had missed her, if he were being honest with himself. Even though Hob had said the breakup was amicable, and that Eleanor had only left the chat because she couldn’t be part of their plans any longer, Dream was still sad to see her go. He realizes he could’ve tried harder to keep in touch with her, but then everything with Hob had happened and well.

Dream wants to hug Eleanor and also scream at her. Wants to unload what a horrible last month he’s had, and also wants her to never find out he’d been sleeping with her ex. It’s not her fault that Dream fell into bed with Hob knowing he wasn’t over his relationship with her yet. It’s entirely her fault for being so perfect, however, that there’s no way Dream could ever compare, and that’s why Hob won’t look at him when they have sex. 

When they had sex. Dream and Hob have barely spoken since that night, and only in their group chat. He’s pretty sure Hob doesn’t want to even be in the same room as Dream right now, for how ugly Dream had acted over what was supposed to be just a casual hookup.

“Not that I’m unhappy to see you, Ellie,” Dream says, giving both her and his sister a hug before taking a seat across from them. “But what are you doing back in town?”

“Dream—” Didi starts, but then Eleanor places a hand on her shoulder and stops her.

“We’re dating,” Eleanor says bluntly, moving her hand from Didi’s shoulder down to her hand. Their fingers interlace and Dream’s eyes boggle as he looks between them, shocked.

“When did this happen?” he asks, settling himself in for what must be an extremely interesting story.

Eleanor and Didi take turns recalling the story of how they met through a local meetup for knitters in Seattle, and how Didi had recognized Eleanor from one time she’d come out drinking with Dream and his friends years ago. Happy to have a familiar face, Didi and Eleanor had become fast friends, and they both realized they had a lot in common too.

Before either of them knew it, Eleanor was inviting Didi out everywhere as they explored their new city together, and Didi became accustomed to calling Eleanor after every shift at the hospital. One thing led to another, and then another, and now they’re practically attached at the hip. Didi even shyly admits they’ve talked about moving in together. 

The two of them beam at him when they’re done with their story and Dream wants to congratulate them. Wants to be happy that his favorite sister is dating one of his oldest friends. He wants to make plans to visit them in their new home, maybe even help them move if he can work out the logistics. He hasn’t been out to Seattle in some time, and he really could use a vacation.

“I started sleeping with Hob after you left,” is what Dream says instead. 

Eleanor spits her (thankfully white) wine all over Didi, who freezes in place, staring at Dream in shock. Dream stares back, horrified both at what he just said, and what followed after. He braces himself, expecting Eleanor to explode on him, to call him a slut, a bad friend, a terrible human being.

Instead, Eleanor starts laughing. Didi does too eventually.  

“Oh my god, of course he did,” Eleanor wheezes as she doubles over in her seat. Their server rushes over, bringing some extra napkins and Didi excuses herself to the restroom to wipe off the rest of the wine. Dream and Eleanor are left staring at one another in silence, before Eleanor breaks the tension with another giggle.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “I’m not laughing at you, really, just the whole situation. Imagine if you brought Hob with you tonight?” she practically squeals.

“I—you’re not mad?” Dream asks, more shocked than anything. Eleanor just shrugs and drinks from her water glass this time, instead of her wine.

“I mean, did Hob at least wait a day before he tried to make a move on you?” Eleanor asks. “Not that it matters really, we were broken up before I left but well, you know. Respectful turnaround time and all that.”

“I—” Dream stutters, trying desperately to recall when that first time with Hob actually happened. “I mean, I think it was a few weeks after you left?”

Eleanor snorts. “Good enough, I guess.” 

“Sorry,” Dream says, shaking his head as Didi returns and sits back down next to Eleanor. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around this. Did you know he wanted to—?”

“Oh no, no,” Eleanor says then starts laughing again. “Our breakup wasn’t planned or anything, don’t worry. It’s just that, well. He told me he wanted to stay with you guys more than me, so I’m not that surprised?”

“What?” Dream says, dumbly. “But you both said the breakup was mutual.” Eleanor sighs.

“I mean,” she replies. “It was technically mutual. But Hob wanted to stay in Boston, and I didn’t. And one of our last arguments before I left was about abandoning our friends.” She shrugs again. “I love you all, don’t get me wrong, but I really love living out in Seattle more. Especially the company.” She smiles at Didi, who kisses her on the cheek. “It kind of sucked that Hob really didn’t want to move, but it wouldn’t have been fair to ask him to do it all just for me and my career goals.”

“Oh,” Dream says dumbly. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” Dream wouldn’t have wanted to leave Boston for any reason either, so it makes sense, he thinks. Boston is just that. It’s home.

“It’ll make double dating a little weird, though,” Eleanor adds, and Didi laughs. 

“I think we’ll be fine though,” Didi adds, then turns her focus to Dream. “So tell us about you and Hob,” she says.  

“I—we’re not,” Dream stammers, unsure of how to proceed further with the conversation. Eleanor and Didi’s expressions both fall.

“Oh, Dream,” Didi says, reaching out to take his hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

“It’s fine,” Dream says though he feels anything but. “I don’t—it didn’t last long between us,” he admits. 

“Wow, he fumbled the bag on you?” Eleanor interjects, shock clearly painted on her face. “My god, he really is an idiot.”

“No I—we had a fight,” Dream says, unsure of why he feels the need to clarify. “It was my fault really. I shouldn’t have—he wasn’t ready to commit.” 

Eleanor makes a confused face. 

“That—doesn’t sound like Hob,” Eleanor says after a moment, and Dream huffs in annoyance.

“You only knew him while you were dating, how would you know that?” Dream retorts.

“Because he told me he’s never done casual,” Eleanor replies. “When we first started seeing each other, he basically said just that. That’s what I liked about him, he wanted to do the whole commitment thing right away, even if it didn’t end up working out.”

“Well maybe he’s changed,” Dream says, far more grumpily than he intended. “He’s never said shit to me about anything, and still hasn’t, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Dream,” Didi says gently, squeezing his hand. “Are you okay?”

“It’s fine,” Dream insists, not wanting to go into the details of how he’d terribly fucked up his situation with Hob. 

“You don’t sound fine at all,” Didi replies.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have this conversation at dinner though?” Eleanor interjects, looking concernedly at him. Dream huffs and then pouts. Eleanor was always hyper attuned to when people were upset, especially Dream.

But Dream does want to talk about it, even if it is a bit awkward, all things considered. Eleanor seems to at least be willing to hear Dream out, if nothing else. 

They wrap up their bill quickly, taking some of their dinner to go, and find their way over to Dream’s apartment, where he spends the rest of the night wrapped up in a blanket while he recounts the past six months to his sister and Eleanor. There’s also, perhaps, a lot of wine involved. Solely because Eleanor had decided it was also girls night and they needed a lot of wine for a proper one.

“I’m going to murder him myself,” Eleanor says, holding up her bottle of wine when Dream finishes telling her everything that had happened up until now. 

“El, no,” Dream whines. He’s really more embarrassed about the whole situation now than anything. Talking things over with the two of them had really helped, and Dream wonders if he should’ve talked to Lucienne, or even Jessamy and Matthew to start. Maybe he wouldn’t have let things go so far the way they did between him and Hob.

“Nah, he deserves it,” Eleanor replies, taking another swig from her bottle. 

“It’s really my fault,” Dream tries to insist, knowing it’s useless to defend Hob to his own ex. “I knew he wasn’t over you and I—”

“No, Dream, listen to me,” Eleanor says, taking Dream’s face in her hands. “He never—” she turns away from him suddenly and then burps. Dream laughs, despite himself. 

“He never what?” Dream asks when Eleanor turns back to face him. She sighs.

“He never told you why he turns off the lights, and that’s on him,” Eleanor tells him. 

“I—what?” Dream says dumbly. Hob turned off the lights with Eleanor too?

“Yeah, he—” Eleanor hiccups and then starts giggling. She releases Dream’s face and then falls back onto Didi, who’s sitting behind her on the couch. “He’s sensitive, you know? About—” she gestures at her front, “All the hair he has. Hates it when people see it. I think we had sex with the lights on like, twice, at most.” She pauses and then regards Dream, her expression sombering. “I thought you knew.”

“Why would I know that?” Dream asks, dumfounded. Hob had never given any indicator that he was sensitive about any part of his body, and no one in their friend group had ever commented on it.

“Because,” Eleanor replies, gesturing wildly. “Think about it. Whenever we went to the beach or anything together, did you ever see him take his shirt off? Or at the pool at Matthew and Jessamy’s place?”

“I—” Dream filters through his memory, which is an especially difficult task considering how drunk they are. He realizes that Eleanor’s right. 

“Shit.” Dream groans. “I think I fucked up.”

“No, no, he did,” Eleanor insists. “I always told him I didn’t mind all the hair,” she adds then sighs. “I mean it’s a lot, but it never bothered me, you know?”

“It’s never bothered me either,” Dream admits. He’d rather liked the differences in their bodies actually. Hob was broad where Dream was lanky, naturally tan and sunkissed where Dream was pale. Dream had never had an opinion on chest hair before, what little hair he’d had it was so fine and thin that his chest looked bare anyways. But Eleanor was right. Dream had never really seen Hob casually uncovered. And while he was always eager to undress Dream when the lights were still on, Hob almost never fully undressed himself until after he’d shut them off. 

It seems so obvious now, in retrospect. But Dream had been caught up in his own insecurities to really notice that Hob had any of his own to address.

“I honestly thought he didn’t want to look at me when he turned off the lights,” Dream confesses. “That maybe he was hoping he could pretend I was someone else in the dark.”

“Okay, I’m with my girlfriend,” Didi says suddenly, a murderous look in her eyes. “I’m a doctor, I can make it look like an accident,” she adds, holding up her weird hand mixed cocktail that has hot sauce in it. 

“Didi!” Dream exclaims. “No murder,” he orders, then laughs at the absurdity of the entire situation. They all start laughing, and Dream feels something unwind in his chest when they do. He thinks about texting Hob, but ultimately decides against it. What he wants to tell him, he wants to do it sober, and in person. 

Dream wakes up the next morning extremely hungover, and orders breakfast for delivery. Didi and Eleanor try to insist on paying him back, but he waves away their money, and tells them they can buy him dinner when he flies out to see them move. They both hug him fiercely on their way out and make him promise to see them at least one more time before they fly back to Seattle.

-----------------

A week after his conversation with his sister and Eleanor, Dream is outside Hob’s apartment door, pacing nervously as he rehearses everything he wants to say to Hob. His apology. His request to start things over, if Hob still wants to try. How he’s really been feeling about their whole not-relationship status.

Really, he’s just stalling knocking on Hob’s door. What if Hob doesn’t answer when he sees it’s Dream? What if he tells Dream to go away without even hearing him out? What if—

Dream groans and then mentally slaps himself. He needs to stop worrying himself unnecessarily. Either Hob will want to hear him out or he won’t. But Dream needs to at least try.

He’s about to raise his hand to finally knock on the door, when suddenly he hears Hob’s voice, distinctly from not inside the apartment. 

“Dream?” Hob asks. Dream turns in the direction of his voice and finds Hob standing at the end of the hall, groceries in hand. Dream realizes he’s been an idiot standing in front of a completely empty apartment. 

“Hi,” Dream says, every rehearsed speech and romantic gesture he’d just been rehearsing evaporating from his mind like wisps of smoke.

“Hi,” Hob replies, his voice flat. He looks tired, but not angry at least, to see Dream. “Did you need something?” he asks as he walks slowly towards his front door, eyeing Dream a little suspiciously. Dream can’t really blame him. Their last interaction had ended rather poorly.

“I—can we talk?” Dream asks, stepping aside so Hob can put his key in the lock. Hob sighs and his shoulders droop, like he’s been dreading this exact situation. 

“Sure,” Hob replies, putting on a fake cheerful demeanor as he opens the door to let himself and Dream in. 

“Do you need help with anything?” Dream asks, trailing Hob towards the kitchen. 

“If you want,” Hob replies, setting the groceries down onto the counter. But before Dream can start unpacking anything, he sighs again and groans. 

“Actually, Dream,” Hob says, turning around and facing him head on. “Let’s just talk now.” 

“Uhm—okay,” Dream replies, now feeling incredibly nervous. Hob looks at him expectantly, crossing his arms as he waits for Dream to gather his thoughts. 

Finally, Dream says, “I wanted to say I’m sorry. About everything that happened last time I was here.”

His apology seems to surprise Hob, who suddenly straightens up from his leaning position against the counter.

“Oh,” Hob replies, sounding dumbstruck. “I—I’m sorry too,” he offers, uncrossing his arms and running a hand through his hair. Dream realizes it’s longer than the last time he’d seen it. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper at you that night.”

“To be fair, I was being an ass,” Dream admits, even though it pains him to do so.  

“Yeah but you had a reason to be,” Hob says. “I was just feeling sorry for myself for no reason and I took it out on you.”

“I still took my shitty day out on you,” Dream replies, shrugging. “So I guess we were both not at our best that night.”

“I guess not,” Hob accepts, with a small smile. “We’re okay then?”

Dream nods. “Yes,” he says, offering a small smile himself, then stepping towards Hob. “Why were you feeling sorry for yourself?” Hob’s expression shutters closed again, and he shakes his head. 

“It’s not important,” he says, turning away and refusing to meet Dream’s eyes.  

“Hob,” Dream says, taking another step closer and reaching out to take the other man’s hand in his. “It’s important to me,” he adds.  

Hob sighs, and then turns his eyes to the ceiling. When he meets Dream’s gaze again, he looks pained. 

“I’m not good at being casual Dream,” Hob tells him bluntly, and Dream feels a sense of deja vu run through him like a live wire. “If we’re going to keep doing…this, I want there to be a commitment. It’s not just sex to me.”

It’s almost identical to what Eleanor had said about Hob to Dream a week prior. Dream suddenly feels wretched for not noticing sooner, but also indignant, because why had Hob assumed that wasn’t what Dream wanted as well? 

“Hob,” Dream says, as calmly as he can manage, before he squeezes Hob’s hand tightly. “What made you think I didn’t want the same things?”

Hob’s face falls. He looks intently at Dream’s face, and whatever he finds there only seems to upset him further. 

“I—I don’t know,” Hob admits, before he groans and places his free hand over his face. Dream finds it a bit comforting that he hasn’t tried to remove Dream’s hand over his other one.

“I’ve read this whole thing wrong, haven’t I?” Hob says through his hand, before slapping his forehead. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“You’re not,” Dream says, before he takes Hob’s free hand as well. “And to be fair,” he adds, “it’s occurred to me recently that I may have, as well. We’ve never talked about—about this,” he gestures between them. “Us. We just sort of skip to the sex.”

“Well, we have been drunk every time,” Hob replies. “You said so yourself.”

“Not—every time,” Dream says. “After Matthew got food poisoning, when I thought that you had invited me out on a date, we only had one drink each that we didn’t finish.”

“Wait,” Hob stutters, his whole body going rigid. “You thought I had invited you out for a date? That’s why—,” his eyes widen suddenly. “That’s why you wore the blazer.”

Dream blushes furiously and now it is his turn to look away from Hob’s scrutinizing gaze. “You don’t have to rub it in.”

“No I’m not I—,” Hob groans again, and then, unexpectedly, pulls his hands free before dropping his head down on Dream’s shoulder. Dream startles when he feels Hob’s arms suddenly wrap around his waist shortly after.

“I had no idea. None at all,” Hob confesses, then groans again. “God I would’ve taken you somewhere nicer if I knew you wanted it to be a date.”

Dream shrugs, then reaches up to pat Hob on the back. “It’s fine. Really.”

“Not really, but we can agree to disagree,” Hob replies, before he tilts his head slightly up to look at Dream “Can I get a do-over on that then?” he asks. “Take you out on a proper date?”

Dream wants that, he realizes. Desperately. So he nods. 

“I do want that,” Dream says honestly. “But—”

“Oh God, there’s a ‘but’,” Hob groans before he straightens and untangles himself from Dream. Dream already misses the warmth of Hob’s body. 

“It’s not a bad ‘but’,” Dream replies. “But there’s something that’s been bothering me since we—since all this started,” he finishes. “I want to make sure we’re really on the same page.”

Hob nods. “Okay, sure. What is it?” he asks.

Dream takes a deep breath to brace himself, and then looks Hob directly in the eye. Now or never, he supposes. 

“Why do you turn off the lights?” Dream asks. 

Hob blinks, slow, then suddenly blushes a furious red before he buries his face in his hands.

“Aw, come on Dream,” Hob sighs. “It’s really embarrassing.”

Dream softens a bit, but remains resolute. Eleanor had told him what she thought had been the problem all along, but he still needs to hear it from Hob himself.  

“I need to know, Hob,” Dream insists.

“Why?” Hob asks, then sighs again. “I mean, I don’t know, it’s pretty obvious isn’t it? I’m not really much to look at, you know,” he says, gesturing to himself.

“Not much to look at?” Dream asks, unable to keep the disbelief out of his voice.

“I know, it’s stupid,” Hob sighs, running a hand over his face. “But I mean, Dream, look at you. You’re gorgeous and I’m…I don’t know, not that?”

“I’m still not following,” Dream says, still confused but also growing more and more uneasy about what Hob is implying. “Did you…did you really not think I was attracted to you? At all?”

“No, I—I just—,” Hob stutters. “I don’t know what I thought, honestly,” he says, looking guilty. “I just—I’m not as confident as you about how I look naked,” he adds, gesturing to his front, and Dream’s heart sinks at the confirmation of yet another thing Eleanor had told him. “I thought…maybe you’d change your mind about being with me. If you saw, well— everything.”

“Everything,” Dream replies flatly. 

“I mean, you know I’m really…hairy,” Hob says, before he winces. “And well, I’m not really in shape or anything like that either…” he trails off, looking even more guilty with every new word that comes out of his mouth. Like he’s only just realizing now that he pushed his anxieties about his body onto Dream, who clearly hasn't noticed any of the things Hob's insecure about.

“So…what?” Dream says, suddenly feeling indignance and hurt creep into his voice. “You just assumed I wouldn’t find you attractive unless I was drunk and we had sex in the dark?”

“Wait, what?” Hob exclaims. 

“Am I really that shallow sounding to you?” Dream continues, already feeling his emotions start to get the better of him.

“No, oh god, no,” Hob replies immediately. “Dream, I don’t know what’s brought this on, but swear it had nothing to do with you. I was just stupid and insecure about myself, and I wasn’t thinking properly. I’m sorry, I really had no idea it bothered you so much.”

A somewhat tense and awkward silence falls between them. Dream mulls over what Hob has told him, feeling wretched about how deeply they’ve both misunderstood one another. But he had come here to clear those misunderstandings after all. Hob had admitted his insecurities. Now Dream had to as well. 

“I actually thought—” Dream says, then takes a shuddering breath to calm himself. “I thought you turned the lights off because you didn’t want to look at me,” he finally admits.  “Because I wasn’t who you really wanted to be with.”

Hob’s eyes widen, first in shock, then horror. “Wait you thought that I—”

“Was using me as a stand-in for Eleanor?” Dream finishes. He wraps his arms around himself and then looks away, refusing to meet Hob’s eyes. He feels like a coward for doing so but Dream knows he’ll lose his resolve to admit everything he’d been bottling up if he does. “The first time we slept together, I assumed you were only looking for a rebound. And when we never talked about it after, or told our friends I—”

“Fuck, Dream,” Hob interrupts, grabbing him suddenly and hugging Dream to his chest. “I had no idea, I—fuck, I’m so sorry I made you feel like that.”

Dream sniffles, wrapping his own arms around Hob, shrugging helplessly. 

“I should have said something sooner,” Dream says. “But I let it—fester instead. I had no idea that you thought you weren’t attractive to me either. But Hob,” he adds, turning his head to meet Hob’s eyes again, hoping he looks as serious as he feels. “I don’t just sleep with people I’m not attracted to. Regardless of how much alcohol is involved.”

Hob nods. “Yeah. I—I’m still sorry about everything though.”

“Me too,” Dream replies, then adds, a bit more quietly. “I like the hair, actually.” Hob chokes out a noise that seems half between a laugh and a sob. 

“You don’t have to say—” he starts but Dream shushes him.

“I mean it, Hob,” Dream says, before he works a hand between them to pet the small patch of hair peeking out from beneath Hob’s shirt. “I think it suits you. And I would like to be able to fully appreciate it.”

When he looks up at Hob, the other man’s eyes are a bit watery. But then Hob blinks rapidly, and sniffles, before he hugs Dream even more tightly to himself.

“Stay the night?” Hob asks. “Not for—not for sex. Just stay with me?”

Dream nods against Hob’s shoulder. “Okay.”

Hob makes a decision to order takeout instead of making dinner like he originally planned, citing that he’d rather spend time talking with Dream anyways. They still put away the groceries, which helps release a lot of the emotional tension that had built up between them, and Dream enjoys the warm, domestic feel of the activity. 

Once their food arrives, they settle on Hob’s couch and talk late into the night about everything and nothing. Hob catches Dream up on what missed during trivia when he was out with Didi, and Dream shyly admits that Didi had not been the only person he’d talked to that evening. Hob stares at him, equal parts awestruck and mortified, as Dream recalls his conversations with Eleanor and Didi, and how he found out they were dating. 

“So what you’re saying is, I’m lucky to have my bits still attached?” Hob jokes. 

“Hob,” Dream chastises him, bumping their shoulders together. “That’s not nice.”

“You didn’t date Eleanor,” Hob retorts. “She’s terrifying, do you know how many serial killer documentaries she used to watch?”

Dream did, in fact, know this. He had been subject to many episodes of Cold Case Files growing up with Didi, and his knowledge had been how he and Eleanor had first become friends. Dream suspects Eleanor’s deep passion for them is actually one of the reasons why she and Didi get along so well.

“Hob,” Dream says, a new worry now crossing his mind. “Are you—okay—with all of this?” he waves vaguely. “With Didi dating your ex while we—?” He trails off. They still haven’t really decided on what their official relationship status would be going forward, and Dream doesn’t want to presume.

Hob nudges Dream with his shoulder, and then kisses the top of his head. 

“Yeah, I am,” Hob answers sincerely. “I mean—it’s never not going to suck that we broke up,” he adds. “But we had our time, and if she’s happy then I’m happy too.”

Dream nods. “That’s good to hear,” he says. 

“Are you okay with it?” Hob asks. Dream hums. 

“I am,” he answers, then huffs a laugh. “I did offer to help them move into their new place, though.”

Hob groans. “Does this mean I have to help too as part of my good boyfriend duties?” he asks.

Dream’s potsticker falls out of his mouth mid chew, hits his knee, and then falls to the floor.

“Shit!” Dream exclaims, putting his food on the coffee table before bending down to pick up the stray dumpling. 

“I—did I say something wrong?” Hob asks, worry now clear in his voice. Dream shakes his head and then flops against Hob’s shoulder.

“You said nothing wrong,” Dream says into Hob’s shoulder, his face now flushed with embarrassment. “I was just surprised, is all. You—you said it so easily.”

“Boyfriend, you mean?” Hob asks, now in a teasing tone. “Do you like it?”

Dream nods, feeling ridiculous about being done in by a single word. But Hob doesn’t seem to mind.

“I like it too,” is all he says, before he places a hand underneath Dream’s chin and kisses him.

-----------------

As they’re getting ready for bed, Dream feels a thrum of excitement, even though they’ve still agreed that sex is off the table for the night. They’re both far too tired and emotionally drained from the evening to put in the effort anyways.

But then Hob is holding out his arm for Dream to snuggle into, and Dream feels like a teenanger as he curls up against Hob’s chest and rests his head on it. 

“Fair warning that you’re going to wake up sweaty if you stay here all night,” Hob tells him. Dream knows he doesn’t mean to sound so self-deprecating, but now that he knows just how deep Hob’s insecurities run, it breaks his heart a little. 

“That’s fine,” Dream says, pressing himself even closer. He can feel Hob’s chest hair poking through the thin material of his undershirt. Dream rubs his face into it, enjoying the rough, scratchy texture against his check. Hob laughs at Dream’s actions, and Dream hums in contentment. He really did like the feel of Hob’s chest hair. It was surprisingly soft in certain places, and warm. Maybe Dream would wake up because he’s too warm in the middle of the night. Maybe he won’t. He’s just glad that now he gets the opportunity to find out. 

“You don’t have to pretend to be enthusiastic about it,” Hob says as Dream nuzzles him again.

“I’m not,” Dream replies, rolling his eyes. “It feels…nice.”

“Sure,” Hob replies. “Say that again in the morning.”

Dream does in fact, say something similar to that effect in the morning. He says it while he sits atop Hob’s lap, Dream gripping the thick pelt of hair for purchase as he ruts himself desperately against Hob. 

They’ve never had sex in the morning. In the bright light of day. Somehow it’s even more intimate than what Dream imagines having sex with the lights on must feel like and he loves it. Hob is looking at Dream like he’s something divine, like he can’t quite believe that what they’re doing is really happening. Dream thinks he’ll never let Hob turn off the lights again when they do this. He never again wants to miss a single second of seeing the way Hob looks at him, at how stunning Hob’s entire body looks and feels when pressed against Dream’s. His new goal, for however long it takes, is that Hob never questions Dream’s attraction to him ever again.

When they’ve both reached their peaks, Dream collapses on top of Hob, uncaring of the sticky mess between them. Hob’s chest is warm and broad, and Dream finds himself slowly drifting back to sleep. Hob groans after a while, however, wriggling beneath the weight of Dream's body, and disturbing his otherwise peaceful post-coital rest.

“Okay, this is sweet and all, but now I’m the one that's too hot,” Hob whines, pushing gently at Dream’s shoulder. Dream laughs, a brazen, awful honking noise that he’s always been insecure about. But Hob had told him the night before that he loves Dream’s laugh, and Dream can see now that the other man wasn’t lying. He’s looking at Dream softly, so full of affection that Dream nearly forgets he needs to move and just stares at Hob for a while.

“What?” Hob asks, his eyes crinkled with happiness.

“Nothing,” Dream replies, smiling back before he moves off of his boyfriend’s chest.

Hob gets up from the bed once Dream rolls off of him and heads towards the bathroom. He comes back with two warm washcloths to wipe themselves off with. When they’re both done, he tosses both cloths in the direction of the hamper, missing his target by mere inches. 

“Close enough,” Hob says. 

“That’ll leave a wet spot on your carpet,” Dream tells him, already seeing his prediction start to come true. 

“I’ll get to it later,” Hob replies before he kisses Dream, languid and slow and perfect. “I have more important things to do today.”

[hopefullyhusky]

not into weight gain (godspeed to those who are 🙏) but as a fat gay man, your art makes me feel so much sexier and more desireable than society maybe wants me to feel. keep up the good work and happy trails to your goal weight

Thank you so much for reaching out - I can't express how good it feels when people tell me how they resonate (in whatever way) with my art. Sorry that it took me so long to answer this one I did not see the notification, but I guess that’s what you get for using the mobile app. I wish that I could tell every fat gay man how beautiful and sexy they are. I wish I could tell every fat person that period. Fat is beautiful bottom line, and no one should be able to tell you how you should think about your own body and no one should tell you what to do with it for that matter either. We, unfortunately, live under the influence of a society where “pretty” is power and insecurity is profitable. I wish you nothing but happiness in your own journey to find some common ground between body and mind – I know for sure that it will be a long journey for me to find my own inner peace and self-acceptance for the body that I have. Eat, drink, get fat (if you're into that), and be merry is the only (unwarranted) advice that I can offer as the simple pleasures in life are the things that make it worth living. Hope you have a great end to summer and early fall, Anon! <3

[btsbabe7]

November Prompt 24: Happy Ending

Words: 1.1k | Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Autumn is fleeting. You can feel it in the way the deep winds whip over your soft features while leaning against the railing of the Astronomy Tower and in the way graduation lingers like a heavy burden in your mind. With the nights growing colder and finals underway, you’d made it a habit to meet Draco here at least three times a week instead of each night.

Tonight, his heavy footsteps guide you back under the cover of the deck, only to see him standing at the entrance with an arm full of blankets.

“An extension charm might have helped,” you giggle as your lazy steps bring you towards him.

“Never been one for charms really,” he huffs as you help him lie the blankets across the floor for another cold night of stargazing.

Soon enough, you find yourself curled against Draco’s warm body, tracing the curvature of his sharp features with soft doe eyes. His chest puffs up and down rhythmically against the palm of your hand. His heartbeat is steady against it too. With graduation only a couple seasons away, this is what you’re afraid of losing the most.

About a week into meeting Draco here, you two had talked about the future. You’d discussed goals after school, your thoughts on family, and even attempting to keep in touch with friends to keep the balance of things that would otherwise fall to the wayside during everyday life as an adult, a time when things like finals will be the least of your worries.

However, in this moment, the week of finals has been stressful, but the weeks before were more grueling. Between it all, you and your closest friends, Solora, Harry, Hermione and Ron had decided to apply for your most wanted job just two weeks prior to testing. Jokingly, you’d placed the parchment application in your sandy owl’s beak and hoped for nothing. A writing position at The Daily Prophet you’d dreamed of since you were a girl, though you’d lost hope in it the older you got, and now, you have Draco to consider. Draco’s dream of becoming the next Quidditch coach was everything short of what his own father’s dream was for him at The Ministry, but you’d secretly sent off the application he’d filled out and left behind in your bedroom over summer break. Sadly, you couldn’t tell him; he always got nervous about defying his father’s wishes.

In all craziness of finals week, your owl had come back this afternoon. Perched against your chair in The Great Hall during lunch, you’d received the parchment addressed from The Daily Prophet after two weeks. Solora had just so happened to be skipping by when your owl came and she wasted no time awaiting your grand appearance.

“Well, you have to open it, ya know? Draco aside, I know you’re dying to know if you’ve been accepted. You’ve only been talking about this position since we were kids, Y/n.”

Draco hadn’t come to lunch, he’d been studying hard for a Potions final he had that hour, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d received his owl too. When your own envelope showed up, a pit formed in your stomach and you’d lost your appetite. You couldn’t face Solora or your other three friends, so you’d gently grabbed the envelope from your owl’s beak and ran off to hide the rest of the day until now.

“Y/n,” Draco speaks softly towards the ceiling. “I received a letter today… from the Wizards Quidditch Committee.”

Your heart stops and your blood runs cold. You hold your tongue at the headache sparking up. He knows it was you, but he doesn’t seem upset and that makes you more nervous about the news he’d received. But even more, it makes you curious about your own letter you’d tucked into the secrecy of your inner robe pocket several hours ago.

Draco looks at you, a warmth in his icy eyes. He grins softly, sputtering a laugh before continuing, “I’m glad you did it. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The thought of betraying my father by not working at The Ministry is my own burden. I was a coward, but you didn’t allow me to fall into that and I’ll forever be in your debt.”

You sit up on your elbow, caressing his cheek with a soft smile.

“So you got the position? Quidditch coach?”

He sits up, taking your hand in his before nodding with a nervous smile. You’re not sure when you leaped off your elbow and jumped into his arms, but you couldn’t stop smiling. You’re glad all the secrecy is over and that your boyfriend can finally get something in life that he’s wanted for himself.

“And you then?”

Your brows furrow in confusion.

“Your hand was shoved in your pocket when I arrived. You were gazing over the deck as if you were pondering something,” Draco states curiously. Your cheeks grow hot as you reach into your own pocket, revealing the letter from The Daily Prophet. “Go on, open it.”

You take a deep breath, eyes faltering from his to the slightly crumbled parchment between your hands. You shakily flip the envelope over, slowly dragging your finger over the wax seal before peeling it up. Carefully removing the letter from the envelope, you look up at Draco one last time.

He looks more excited than you. After all, this could change everything and you’re sure he can feel it just the same as you. If you got this job and Draco accepted his position, you wouldn’t have to linger onto the worry of no longer being able to see him. You wouldn’t have to cry yourself to sleep at the scenario of having to breakup just to manage life a bit more easier.

Your gaze drops to the letter just as your thumb flips the ceased edge upwards and you read.

Dear Y/LN,

On behalf of The Daily Prophet, we are more than pleased to offer the position of columnist following graduation from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

We look forward to receiving your owl accepting the position following the weeks of finals to further transition you for the role after graduation.

Thank you,

The Daily Prophet

You’re sure your face says it all and Draco couldn’t be more proud.

“Maybe you’ll be a sports columnist? You can write up about how well I’m doing as the new Quidditch coach and that I’ll be training the team up for the Quidditch World Cup.”

You relish the thought, imagining how you can still be close to Draco and work your dream job all at once. The idea of it all feels like a happy ending, like the one you’ve both been secretly wishing for.

Please be sure to check out my other latest fics:

⚡︎ November Prompt Challenge (days 1-30)

⚡︎ For You Always - reader x Snape

~ Navi: masterlist (all fandoms) & (bts imagines/drabbles)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction, but please don’t copy! Written purely for fun :) Please only repost to other socials w/my permission and credit! Reblogging w/credit is fine. Thank you! ♡

[lemonflowercat]

de-catastrophizing

breathe in, breathe out

body

i want to step back and accept: i am 88 kilos at this moment, i have fat rolls that i try to conceal. i do not fit into the conventional standards of beauty. BUT i'm blessed to have a strong and healthy body - it's a real privilege, and i am so grateful for it. and i'm beautiful! i have lots of clothes i feel pretty in - and feeling it myself, irrespective of what anyone else says, is precious.

also, my best friend ♡ T-T is my favourite person in the whole world

i do have some goals for my body - these are majorly rooted in vanity - and that's okay. it's Dora Milaje looking out for me, protecting me from years of being fat shamed by my mother and society. this is why losing weight makes me feel more confident - and that's okay. my weight loss goals are also rooted in nurturing it so it can do the best of all the magic it is capable of. i want to lose fat to

have a healthy metabolism,

balanced hormones,

and healthy skin and nails.

keep my joints healthy

reduce the risk of CVDs

i want to lift heavy, jump, run, climb, be flexible.

i am not my ideal self now - but i am on my journey to it. it feels like it'll never end, on some days it's the hardest thing i do, i fail more often than i'm comfortable with - and it's ok. this is my character arc - and what's a good character arc without some struggle? besides, life is bigger than calories in-calories out, of course it's a struggle.

things i can do to support myself through this struggle:

stay kind when things don't go as planned

make the tough choices easier to make

plan ahead

look deeper, understand more of what drives me and what breaks me

have a little talk with myself before jumping on the indulgence train: be mindful, check in with my emotions, negotiate alternatives that are better for me

show up every day - can't be my best self every day, but i can be more like my best self

academics

//tummy flip

my anxiety is inversely proportional to the no. of days left to the exam. this means, freezing through the day and panic attacks at night.

to support myself through this, i can

make space for things that calm me down: meditating, staying mindful through little activities like doing the dishes and cooking, walks, working out, sleeping well, avoiding parent-interaction

prioritise studying: this means letting other people know that i don't have time for some things, making conscious decisions about how i spend my time, showing up at my study table and sitting through the first 20m even when it seems impossible

set concrete goals, track progress, actively monitor emotions

eliminate distractions: when studying, focus only on that.

no scrolling during study breaks: breaks aren't to load up more information on the brain, but to step back and relax. like really relax - stretch, walk, drink water, snack, gaze out the window, pet my babies

consume less than 2 hours of media per day: like, seriously! i know how much of a game changer this is

tap into how much i enjoy studying

75 soft reval - to make it align with changing life season. i want to ease off the stress too, because the next 56 days are already super stressful for me. i'm going to cut down on the no. of goals i set out for myself.

body

[] yoga every morning x20m: outdoors if i'm up early

movement first thing in the morning is the goal here. to save on time, i'm going to do yoga (my walks end up taking an hour). morning sun, or even just watching the sun come up makes me feel really good, so i want to practice outdoors.

to make this choice easier, i'll keep my mat and water bottle ready to go by my door the previous night.

[] midday wxo

summer is here - the afternoons are unbearably hot and it's v hard to focus while i'm a sweltering mess. i want to capitalise on evening study hours, so i'm reserving 11 am to 3 pm for working out, chores and cooking. this is also why i'm cutting down yoga to 20m - to make more of the cooler mornings.

can switch up here, like maybe go for a walk in the morning and yoga in the evening.

[] 1400 kcal/day x6/week

sad to see my raw veg/fruit goal go - i put it in to make myself come up with more ways to consume them, and i think i've established a good enough menu to tap into for now. i'll incorporate these into my meals, and maybe bring this goal back later when i have the headspace for it.

mind

[] meditate once/d

[] study 6h/d x6d + 4h on break day = 40h/w

well, that's down to 5 goals from the 10 i was going for earlier! i have some ground rules like

prioritize getting 7h of sleep but if i do sleep late, wake up before 6.30 am irrespective of what i went to bed (sounds inhuman but this is honestly best for me: a day or 2 of less sleep can be made up for with afternoon naps and i really do function best when i wake up early)

have social time once/week

do not consume media for more than 2h per day: includes little things like not using my phone until i'm done with morning yoga, not scrolling in between study sessions and not using my phone to deal with a freeze mode T-T

goddd, if not for 75 days, i really hope to see this through for the 56 days to my exam at least. //stress surge// ok, i've got this. everything is ok, i am enough and i am capable of way more than my stressed out self feels rn. i'm not doing anything i don't want to - all of these things are exactly what i want for myself, and it's just my surface brain that's feeling so apprehensive and stressed. once i get into it, it's all going to be fine amazing because let's be honest ok: i love eating healthy and putting thought into my food, i love working out, i fkn love yoga and how good it makes my body feel, i love the deep stillness of meditation, and studying is that exact perfect blend of challenge+something i'm good at that gets me flowing.

lots of love to me teehee and every person out there life-ing ♡ ☆

[burberrycanary]

End of Year Stucky Recs [6/15]

Stucky as a fandom is lucky to have a lot of classics. But I want to give some love to authors who keep writing fantastic stories for us all to enjoy!

Title: North Fork

Author: BeaArthurPendragon & Stucky1980 / @beaarthurpendragon​ & @lisamott9​

​Summary:

Sworn to silence by the Air Force after a friendly fire accident in Afghanistan, former aid workers James and Sam have come home to take over Sam’s family’s vacation rental business to escape the bad memories. Losing an arm and working maintenance wasn’t how James pictured his life turning out, but his life is good: He likes fixing things, he gets to work for his best friend, and he loves surfing every morning.

Fresh out of the ice, all Steve wants is for SHIELD to announce his return and let him get back to work so he won't have time to think about all he's lost. But when his psychiatrist refuses to clear him for duty until he's dealt with his trauma, he reluctantly accepts Tony's offer of a beach house for the summer to settle his mind. Armed with a false identity and a stack of sketchbooks, his only goal is to get back into the field. He's got no intention of letting his heart defrost along with the rest of his body.

That is, until a handsome maintenance man with a secret of his own shows up with a gallon of ice cream and a smile that could light up half of New York.

—

I love the backstory for this modern Bucky—one of my favorites, from the perfection of being a civil engineer doing charity work with Sam to the senseless injustice of the inevitable tragedy. And the relationships in this story have a refreshing emotional maturity that makes for a great read and really suits the characters.

Art: Kristen Garneau, Muir Beach Storm

[viscerax]

oh em gee ok so what are ur favorite religious symbolisms/allegorys in marble hornets? 🤨🤨 i am interested..,

i hope mine were acceptable TM 😭

Jumping around in joy rn I am so glad someone asked about this. I just love marble hornets so much and I LOVE all the religious parallels in the series (religious upbringing go CRAZY)

SO!!! I think u reblogged one of my posts and you were talking about Alex being viewed as a lamb, and honestly that is soooo real.

Because of the whole thing where Alex is represented by a stigmata, in my mind, I see Alex as some really shitty savior/lamb. From his perspective, he is doing a sort of cleansing, and then sacrificing himself. By killing these people before they can get sucked too far into it, he is showing mercy to them (at least from his perspective).

ALSO... totheark. The ARK.... like. Noah's ark. Because in the Bible, the flood was sent by God to wipe out the entirety of the population of earth, save for the only pure person and his family. In this situation, I personally believe that Jay and Tim would be Noah in this situation. It could also be Brian. Since TTA is ran by multiple ppl (in my mind I believe it to be Brian, Masky, and possibly Seth), they could all have somewhat different intentions. But we see that at least one of the members at least want to keep Tim and Jay alive. This may just be my interpretation, but in Surveillance, with the clips of Jay and Tim flashing on the screen, and then the word "PERMENANCE" this could mean in a way that TTA is sort of trying to protect Jay and Tim. Thats entirely theoretical tho so don't take that to heart.

But anyways, anytime tta references the flood (Deluge, Impure.)

Or we could think about the other meaning of ark. As in The Ark of The Covenant. Don't quote me on this, but from what I remember, the word ark in Hebrew has something to do with a sacred enclosure or container that holds onto sacred scrolls, writings, etc...

So, TTA saying "Bring me to the ark" could be a way of saying that they are trying to reveal secrets. Bring them to the ark as in bring them into a place where these secrets and hidden writings are stored. TTA's main goal always seemed to be revealing secrets.

Beyond that, I could ramble in and on about how these boys lived in Alabama, and probably all had very religious upbringings. I headcanon both Alex and Jay as trans, and in case you weren't brought up religiously, these spaces aren't always very accepting of trans identities (does not apply to every religious space, obviously)

I think Alex's parents were strictly catholic. Church every Sunday. I feel like Jay and Alex knew eachother since middle school and Alex invited Jay to a summer camp (mostly because Alex didn't want to go without any friends and he had no interest in making friends with the other kids at his church.)

I think Jay's parents were sort of lazy churchgoers, but still very strict with their religion. Jay was very closeted as a child. Homeschooled for sure. Type of kid who wasn't allowed to watch SpongeBob or any cartoons that wasn't VeggieTales or something like that. He believed in it until he got to the age where he realized he had free will and didn't just have to believe everything his family spoon-fed him.

Alex carried his religion into his adulthood. I feel like he still believed in a God, and he was angry with him. How could God be so cruel, to curse him with a body that didn't fit him. To force him to take on this burden with the whole Operator thing. He definitely had a savior complex throughout the whole thing.

[truly-morgan]

Kinktober Summer Rerun 2024: Body Worship ● EkuMob👻🥛

【DAY 12】

[#EkuMob, body worship, L.O.L AU ??17]

“Please let’s all have a last round of cheers and laughter for our newcomers!!” Ekubo said loudly, raising his arms and inciting people to do as he said. The crowd in front of him erupted, cheering and laughing for the poor lost little lambs that finally found the path to join them. Once their meeting was over, Ekubo stayed behind as people slowly made their way out, talking with a couple of them who came to ask him questions.

Truthfully for once he couldn’t wait for the meeting to be over, eye wandering to the side quite often. He couldn’t keep his gaze away from one certain young man who helped clean up a little bit with his powers, reorganising things where they should be. It was easy to keep a kind smile on his lips when even if he truly didn’t really care, giving some rather generic advice that was accepted easily.

“I’ll be retreating to my quarters, thank you all for helping with today’s meeting and remember to always smile and laugh, this will bring joy every day no matter what happens” he offered, gently dismissing everyone. He made his way to the backstage of their scene, signalling for his loyal right-hand man to follow him.

“You’re speech and words were as eloquent and great as always, Ekubo-sama,” Shigeo said as he followed behind into his lodge. This had the cult leader hum, a softer smile on his lips this time, yet much more genuine than the one he shows at his meetings.

Shigeo was the only person following him who wasn’t under the influence of his powers. He was simply too powerful of an esper for it to work on him. Yet somehow, he had managed to make the young man one of his followers, a poor lost little lamb who just wanted happiness. He just needed to say the right thing and use some tricks to help him achieve his goals and he had him wrapped around his fingers.

He had thought having someone like him at his side would be a great thing to have, he could make use of Shigeo. But he had also greatly underestimated just what kind of powers the young man possessed.

It wasn’t just a powerful little lamb he had picked up, but a god walking among humans.

His followers saw him as a deity, following his every word and feeding his power with their devotion and love. But to Ekubo, the real deity was Shigeo and he was but a mere believer at his feet. And how great was it to have his own god look up to him too, probably due to his age.

He was certain he would never have gotten where he was if it weren’t for Shigeo who so generously fed him his powers. Who so generously helped Ekubo grow stronger and stronger, making it easier and faster to grow his following, which in turn kept making him closer to becoming a god of his own.

Not that he would ever be able to surpass Shigeo.

“Now now, Shigeo, there’s no need to be so formal with me in private” Ekubo hummed softly as he approached the young man. “You do remember what I told you, right?” He then asked him, hand slowly undoing the belt of his purple robes.

The young man seemed about to argue against it, but Ekubo gently shushed him. There was no arguing against his words on this, while they kept a facade for his followers, Ekubo couldn’t possibly be called Shigeo’s master behind closed doors, as honourable as it sounded coming from him.

“Now please allow me to give you a little hand before you go back home… unless you wish to stay with me, of course” he asked, carefully setting aside the belt and the sash Shigeo had been wearing. He smiled when the young man nodded shyly, apparently still unused to how Ekubo loved caring for him like this.

As the leader started helping Shigeo out of his purple robes he used his powers to start a warm bath, adding the necessary nice oils to keep his skin smooth and healthy. He was happy he had invested in this new location, a much proper temple a little more on the outskirts of town. Like this, he had more space for private quarters like these, where he could do as pleased.

He lived in luxury and made sure to share it with his god.

As carefully he folded the purple robes, leaving them aside. It was interesting seeing how the young man wasn't as embarrassed as he used to be when he first started doing this. Instead, he stood where he was with confidence, allowing the older man to undress him fully.

“You are truly growing into a fine man” Ekubo hummed from where he knelt on the floor, helping him out of his pants and shoes. He smiled at the way this did get him a cute blush, knowing Shigeo was still a little shy about comments like these. “I can also tell you are working out very well” he added, hand slowly making its way up his calf.

A god with strong psychic powers and a body that could overtake anyone physically too. What more could he ask for.

“I am just following the training regime my senpai are giving me,” Shigeo replied, jumping a little when hands gently started pulling his underwear down. It was a rather new thing, than to have Ekubo tend to him like this. He was used to him helping him change and stuff similar to it, but this was a newer and different kind of thing.

But he never stopped him.

He allowed his hand to glide freely over the young man’s skin, massaging the muscle hidden under it. Just a little relaxing before the bath time, making sure Shigeo could really properly enjoy it all.

“The bath is ready” Ekubo stated as he used powers to stop the water, leaving a trail of kisses along Shigeo’s forearms. He hadn’t left his kneeling position until now, only doing so to guide and help him into the bath.

Ekubo smiled when he saw the way tension left Shigeo’s shoulder and body, slowly melting into the water. He was always proud of himself for always making baths such an enjoyable and relaxing moment for the young man.

“I hope the water is just the way you like it” Ekubo hummed from where he stood behind Shigeo, hands slowly massaging his shoulder. He was working off any kinks in his neck and shoulder, carefully undoing any stress his body had. From the sound of it, the esper did seem to enjoy it, head leaning to the side to leave him more space.

Then his hands slowly made their way up front, massaging and caressing his chest. He liked feeling the muscle flex under his fingers, under the warm and smooth skin. It was also interesting to see the young man get flustered when he brushed against his sensitive nipples, biting his lips to keep quiet.

If he could, Ekubo would love eating them with his mouth, tasting him on his tongue and teasing him.

But not now, it was maybe still too soon to hope for such a thing.

Instead, he kept massaging the young man, drinking in all his quiet little reactions. He could see that what he was doing had some kind of effect on him, the side of his hand brushing against something sensitive at times. But he didn’t do anything about it, waiting to see if the esper would ask for it. Didn’t stop him from purposefully brushing closely by it as he started helping the young man wash.

He feels a little disappointed that nowhere in his meticulous washing Shigeo asked him for help. It’s okay, he can always ask another time, although he can tell the young man feels embarrassed and shy about it. “Time to dry up” Ekubo smiles, trying to coax him out of the bath which was now getting a little lukewarm.

He still managed to get him out of the water, standing with his hand trying to hide himself a little bit. “There’s no need to hide like this” Ekubo hummed, trying to sound soothing, “It is only a natural reaction after all”.

Shigeo seemed hesitant at first, but ended up nodding, allowing Ekubo to gently take hold of his arm. This way he was able to start drying him with a soft towel, making sure no water was left on him.

He felt a little amused when I saw the way Shigeo would buck his knew towards the towel when it brushed over his erection, holding in little sounds. It sure as hell wasn’t going down any time soon, especially when Ekubo wasn’t helping much, especially when he was purposefully letting it happen.

He was also very close to it, kneeling by the young man’s feet as he helped dry off his legs. “Ekubo-sama” he looked up when he heard Shigeo calling out to him shyly, smiling a little at the formal title again. “Yes, Shigeo-sama?” he asked, loving the blush that spread over his cheeks when he addressed him the same.

“Can you… I mean, would you help with… you know” he started, stumbling over his request a little. It was cute how shy he was about this.

“Do you mean this?” Ekubo asked dumbly, fingers lightly teasing the underside of his cock, making Shigeo gasp a little. He felt hands grab his shoulder, as if it would help the young man ground himself better. He looked back up again, watching as he bit his lip, nodding. “Then you wish shall be my order” Ekubo smiled.

He discarded the towel for now, allowing himself to kneel a little closer to the esper, hand gently caressing his thighs and hips. He was trying to make him calm down a little bit, seeing just how anxious he seemed to be. Instead of directly getting to it he started kissing his abdomen, slowly making his way down afterwards.

He would have teased the esper some more, but seeing how desperate he seemed to be for pleasure Ekubo decided not to. Maybe another time when it would present itself. Maybe this would be enough to make Shigeo want more.

So he started kissing his way from the base of his cock up to the tip, using one of his hand to help. He did this two more times, letting the young man get used to his touch and mouth, licking and tasting him. What a shame he couldn’t get the full experience of savour since he just helped him wash up fully.

He tried not to chuckle when Shigeo gasped much more loudly this time, a hand coming to Ekubo’s hair. This made him finally get on with it, going up and down his length, using his tongue to make it better.

And when he felt him start moving his hips timidly, he matched the movement, allowing the young man to set the pace. He could use him however he wished, all he wanted was to bring him whatever he wished for. And he would be especially happy to bring in some pleasure too.

He got a little lost in the pleasure he got from being able to please his god like this. Enjoying the feeling of his hand in his hair, the power leaking out of him and all around them, the taste on his tongue. He could be doing this all day if he were allowed to.

But that time got cut short a little as he could tell the young man was growing closer and closer to the edge. He was still young and sensitive after all and Ekubo dared believe he was the first one to ever bring him pleasure like this.

“Ekubo” Shigeo moaned, trying to push his head away. “I’m going to cum” he tried to warn, even if this only made the spirit work even more, instead taking him all the way in, repeating the motion until it was too much for Shigeo to even keep in. He took it all in, enjoying the way the young man leaned on him for support, a strangled noise coming from him.

He drank every last drop that was given to him, sucking and licking him clean once he was done. He would be damn if he were to let anything escape him.

He then helped the young man stand upright, guiding him back a little so he could lean on the bathtub. “How was it, Shigeo-sama~” he asked, tone teasing a little at the end. This had he esper blushing a little again, looking to the side.

“It was good” he admitted, jumping a little when Ekubo kissed his stomach again. “Good” he whispered, “I feel very happy and honoured to have brought you that much pleasure” he hummed happily.

[buzzerbeaterbin]

POST WINTER BREAK WE HAVE BREATHED WE HAVE RESTED WE ARE READY FOR 2024

I GUESS I'M SLOW BUT SLOW AND STEADY STILL WINS SO I'M TRYING NOT TO BEAT MYSELF UP OVER IT

SLOW IN THE SENSE OF NOT ONLY AS A STUDENT OF MEDICINE BUT ALSO A STUDENT OF #LIFE LMFAO

HERE ARE MY TIME SAVING, JOY SPARKING WELLNESS LESSONS/REMINDERS FOR MYSELF AT THIS TIME THAT I WANTED TO SHARE WITH EVERYONE:

I cannot express how LAUGHABLE of a venture it was to expect myself to ever reasonably keep up with essentially a 6 days/week workout routine in the midst of the biggest life transition I'm experiencing thus far. This semester we are focusing on fitting in a 1 hour session only 2-3x/week, that hits both strength training AND cardio - the name of the game is efficiency!!! Aerobic, weight-bearing, heart-rate elevating, fat-burning, full body, FUNCTIONAL, ATHLETIC. I'm accepting that certain other goals (e.g. flexibility) will have to take a backseat for the time being. It's looking like a lot of HIIT, double compounds (e.g. squat to shoulder press), minimal equipment ->

I'm done with waiting in lines for popular machines!!! WHO HAS THE TIME!!! I've also learned the value of simplifying your needs as much as possible the so that your ability to stay consistent with your workouts is not limited to exclusive, fancy equipment that ties you down to a particular studio/gym e.g. kind of a meme but I got so used to the hip thrust machine at my giant suburban gym just to basically never see it again. I PRAY for the day I am able to rely on body weight calisthenics alone, but until then, there's so much magic in a bare-bones bench + dumbbells gym, and almost everywhere you go will have that

on that note, a lot of solidcore moves can be done with sliding discs, youre welcome

for the first time in an extremely long time, one of my primary goals this time around is actually weight loss - there's a whole lot more I can say about this but for now, one of the primary reasons is the fact that I will be in Korea for the first time ever this summer ifykyk lol. but starvation is never the means nor the ends, especially given how much GLUCOSE my brain requires during these long days. I'm approaching this as a fun challenge to see how I can be the most efficient (time and money) with my fuel

-----------

SUBPOST!!! HOW TO MAKE SALADS LESS OF A CHORE THANK ME LATER

->BUY A LARGE PLASTIC BOWL WITH A LID!! EZ TO CLEAN EZ TO SHAKE/MIX EZ TO CLEAN BC LIGHTWEIGHT

->ROMAINE (CRUNCH + FLAVORLESS) + KALE (SOFT + EARTHY) IS THE BEST LEAST BORING GREENS COMBO THATLL DELAY TEXTURAL DISINTEREST

->TRY NOODLES AS UR CARB INSTEAD OF QUINOA OR RICE BC COLD NOODLES > COLD OTHERS

->USE LITERALLY JUST ACID (LEMON OR LIME JUICE) AS UR DRESSING AND ADD HERBS/SEASONINGS/NUT BUTTERS (THINNED OUT) SEPARATELY DIRECTLY INTO THE BOWL!!!! IT ADDS THE DEPTH OF FLAVOR BUT FEELS LESS HEAVY AND ALSO LESS DISHES BC U DONT NEED TO FKN MIX UR DRESSING IN A SEPARATE CONTAINER AND IT GET IT ALL GREASY FROM OILS AND ALWAYS HAVE LEFT OVER AND NEVER USE THE LEFTOVER ASFDIAHSDFLKH

-> VIDALIA CHOP WIZARD/-ESQUE TOOLS

GL I HOPE U ARE ABLE TO EAT MORE VEGGIES THIS YEAR!!!!!

--------

snack hunt saga:

the biggest revelation = The Only Bean Edamame Beans, they have a 11g protein :110cal ratio (same ratio as those pure protein bars) and go down wayyy better bc it's real food and not processed powder (I'm still learning to tolerate protein powder). They come individually packed too so SO good for on the go!!!!

I've been liking TJ's flavored cashews too - not the best macro profile (like all nuts) but are so easy to pack for a study session and don't go bad quickly

MEDJOOL DATES every once in a while i remember again that nuggets of heaven exist and are so filling so quickly

[victimofmybrain]

I feel like I am drowning. Drowning in my thoughts, my anxiety, my obsessions, my compulsions, my depression, my housework, my list of things to do. My daily goal is to survive the day. I use to be extremely productive, now I can barely do the minimum, which causes me to feel guilty. Every weekend my husband tries to get me to do an “extra” thing like go through my son’s old clothes or organize something. I refuse to let him do these things on his own because I don’t want hi to get rid of stuff I want to keep or I am afraid of the “dirtiness” of the chore. Lots of things are “dirty” in my mind. I explain to him that I can’t even get through what needs to be done and that expecting “extras” is not feasible right now. It usually ends in me getting upset. I often want to run away. Not from the people in my life, but from my brain. Like, just run off, leaving my thoughts behind but bringing along my husband, son, and parents. I also really want to leave our current house behind. It is a big source of my anxiety. The way it is laid out creates my OCD to go into overdrive. I will explain what contributes to my anxiety and OCD. But I am no longer even able to pack to go on vacation because in my mind, there is no acceptable place in my house for me to lay dirty suitcases down so I can pack them. Not that we can really go far - I can’t fly and I will only travel about 3 hours by car - but at least 3 hours away is better than being stuck 24/7, 365 days/year, in a house that causes me such horrible anxiety. I feel trapped - a prisoner of my mind and in turn, my house. My family is trapped because of me. Every summer that goes by I think how it’s another chance lost for us to travel, for my son to make childhood memories. It breaks my heart.

Here are the 3 things I fantasize about doing:

Have a custom designed house built in Italy and moving there permanently. Somewhere where I can have an organic garden and some animals but also walk into town and shop at the farmer’s market. Or even just having a house there to vacation at.

Have a custom designed house built not too far from where we live now. Somewhere with enough land that I can have an organic garden, a large patio with outdoor cooking and fridge, a salt water pool, a small separate building with a full bathroom and room for my husband’s office, and of course some goats, sheep, chickens, and rabbits. But it must have public sewer and water because septic tanks are gross and I use too much water cleaning and doing laundry to rely on a well.

Sell our current home, rent office space to store our stuff (I skeeve storage facilities), buy an RV, and travel the country for a year or so before having a custom home built as stated above.

I use to just sleep a lot but now even sleeping doesn’t help me escape. I either lay there not being able to fall asleep because all the things that cause my anxiety just keep replaying in my mind or I fall asleep but have bad dreams. I often wake up and feel like my insides are shaking or trembling. Nausea and headaches are almost an everyday occurrence for me. I know you are probably thinking that I should get help, but that’s the thing, I have gotten help. Ever since pregnancy, my body does not respond to any type of treatment - medications (including off-label meds), herbs, vitamins, marijuana, acupuncture, cognitive behavioral therapy, theta burst TMS, or ketamine infusions. I have also tried meditating and exposure response prevention therapy but I can’t calm my mind enough or handle the anxiety to be successful. I am looking into growing my own mushrooms to micro-dose psilocybin. And if that doesn’t work, I just may run away. 6.28.2023

[jonwongton]

12/31/22

2022 was probably the adult year that’s had the least direction so far. I knew I would finish my masters in about a year and Korea could only last three months because of the visa, but I had no idea how much I’d have to prepare to find a new job.

I won’t say this was my favorite year so far, but I definitely can’t say it was bad. My role at my current company completely changed after I got the new job offer, I put a huge emphasis on personal fitness, took my family to Korea, and I’m getting better at stepping on arrows at the arcade. But all my investments tanked (thanks economy), I was injured for over half the year, I paid a huge mental tax forcing myself to study for interviews, and Gyuri left the group.

Favorite moment of the year

I want to be able to look back on a year and remember at least one moment where I felt truly happy. I definitely should have at least one moment or I try hard enough to push myself out of my comfort zone and experience it.

This year’s moment is definitely going to be the the first night of the fromis concert when Nakyung teased Hush Hush. She put her hand on her ear to make us scream louder, and then when she put her index finger over the lips, the whole arena was dead silent, and then you could hear the song starting to play. Not only is Hush Hush my favorite b-side of the year, but also they’ve never performed it before so I’m never going to forget that rush of adrenaline when I saw the stage for the first time.

To make up the previous years:

2021: Climbing up Namsan tower and overlooking Seoul during my three month stay

2020: Staying up and hearing Feel Good for the first time after the 15 month hiatus

2019: Seeing fromis_9 perform in Washington Square Park, where I could finally meet them for the first time and they could hear me screaming the fanchants

2018: Getting accepted into my master’s program (I couldn’t pinpoint a single moment when I completely fell into fromis)

2017: Clicking on GFriend’s Neverland on YouTube, which made me fall into kpop and start learning Korean

Kpop and Korea really are what make me happy lol. I hope everyone has something that makes them feel this way.

Milestones

Gained the skills to find a new job (leetcode, how to interview)

Learned how to lift weights (at 125lbs, 135lb squat, 105lb bench press, 190lb deadlift, 65lb shoulder press)

Gained 10lbs

Took my family to Korea for two weeks

Can play 14s in DDR

Kdramas watched:

그림자 미녀 (Shadow Beauty)

그해 우리는 (Our Beloved Summer)

사내 맞선 (Business Proposal)

사랑의 불시착 (Crash Landing On You)

I want 2023 to be another year full of improving myself. If I want a blanket goal, I want to present myself as the best version of my self possible (physically), which means getting my body in shape and dressing well. If I can gain some more muscle, rehaul my wardrobe, and keep my skin clear, I think I can do just that.

Goals for 2023

Continue working out (no exact target, but I want to improve on all four of the big 4 lifts and not hurt myself)

Gain another 10-ish lbs

Put together 20+ outfits for different situations

Be open to meeting new people

Give myself more headspace to try new activities with friends 

Get a 900k on a real 17 in DDR

[harryskalechips]

one and done

A/N Hi everyone! I’m back with a one shot :) I know I don’t write as often anymore but since I’m self quarantining and I’m just about finish with high school, I thought I should try and give it another go? I’m also re starting up my jewellery business so ahhh many goals in mind but no motivation ??? Okay, I hope you guys enjoy this one!!! It is definitely a slow burn with smut but part 2? I dunno!!

Y/N and her brother’s best friend Harry, has had some pent up sexual frustration for a while. Wouldn’t it be best if they just had a one and done? you know to get it out of their system ;) 

*smut includes spanking, choking, male and female receives oral, harry dom but Y/N rides, magic face cream treatment for anti wrinkling results? Yes, and what else? sub space, hair pulling, gosh I forgot please read it 😁

Word Count: 6.1k // Masterlist // one and done PLAYLIST

“Don’t you think it's a bit of a cliché to be crushing on your brother’s best friend?” Ness teases Y/N as they walk out of her house. They were just on the steps about to go on a walk around the block. It was definitely one of their favourite things to do as the sun was just about to set.

Y/N had her butt sat on the spruced wooden steps as she ignored her best friend’s comment. First off, she knew it was a cliché. Secondly, her last encounter with him just seconds ago was already making her plan her own execution.

In her head, it was simply her just jumping out of her window multiple times until she lost consciousness. Ness on the other hand was standing up, watching the poor girl tie her laces. “Okay, I was just teasing. We can change the topic.” She lends her hand out for Y/N to take.

“It’s not just that Ness.” She gladly accepts the gesture and stands up. She wipes off her butt and glances back at the door. “I’ve never had a thing for him! Ryan and Harry have been best mates since what? 8th grade and for some reason ever since the cruise from last summer, I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“It’s because he was shirtless half of the time.” Ness laughs as she hands Y/N’s water bottle to her. “Okay, we can admit it though. As a senior he is 10 times more attractive than he ever was. He looks like a frat boy that could jump my bones.”  Y/N stops walking and just stares at Ness while the girl continues to walk. She grabs her hand and pulls her forward. “Okay, I’m sorry for the bad comment.”

“He is hot though. Really hot.” Y/N smiles.

“See, that’s why you should sleep with him.”

“What are you crazy? Ness, Ryan would kill me or him -maybe the both of us!” 

“It’s pent up sexual frustration. Harry legit watched us walk out your door while eating a banana and you still managed to trip on your shoes.” She laughs.

“He was making eye contact with me!”

“All I’m saying is that he throws parties at his house and always invites us despite y’know us being juniors. Just offer, do it, slip out, and never say anything about it ever again.” Ness elbows Y/N as she crosses her arms. 

“Maybe I will.” She laughs pretending to actually sound confident in the idea.

“Good, there’s a party this Friday anyway.” Ness shrugs her shoulders. “It’s the best remedy sis.”

~

“Harry, can we talk?” Y/N follows him into the kitchen while everyone else is God knows where around the house. 

“Ryan is in the backyard, trying to get Cassidy back.” He barely glances at her as he pours himself a drink. He notices an empty one in her hand so he decides to pour coke in hers. 

“I um wasn’t really drinking coke.” She states confusedly as she watches the bubbles in her cup dissolve.

“You think I’m trying to get you drunk at this party. One alcoholic beverage is good enough for yeh.” He smiles at her as he screws the cap shut and taps the top of her head. He was treating her as if she was a child, which definitely pissed her off since she was going to ask him a really fucked up favour in the matter of 60 seconds.

“I can handle myself, you know.” 

“Yup.” He rests his back against the counter and bites the rim of the plastic cup as he looks at her. “What do you need though?” He genuinely asks her. Although they weren’t that close, Harry knew her long enough to know she wouldn’t start random a conversation with him. It was more like a hi and bye situation. Not her trying to actually talk to him. 

“I have a favour and you can’t tell Ryan.” Y/N lets out a big breath as she watches his reaction change into a confused one. 

“Look Y/N, if you want to try and smoke a blunt, I think it’s best you find yourself a dealer that doesn’t know your brother.”

“No, not that.” She whispers as she moves in closer. There were more people entering the kitchen and this was about to get really fucking awkward. 

“What?” He looks at her and notices her body shifting closer to him. Her chest was touching the side of his arm, making his eyes look towards the cabinets instead.

“I-”

“Yes?”

“Do you wanna fu-?” His eyes widen as he downs the rest of his drink in one go. Harry doesn’t even let her continue as he steps away from Ryan’s little sister. 

“I’m sorry do I already know the rest of that question?” He tries not to obviously choke on the liquid in his mouth.

“Well, I don’t know you didn’t really let me finish.”  Her sassy tone comes out. Her cheeks were really red and although Y/N came to the party with Ness feeling really confident in the dress she picked. She just wanted to go home and not show her face to him ever again. This was the stupidest idea! Why on earth did she think Harry would want to sleep with her when there are so many girls that try to get his attention. 

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He bites the inside of his cheek and watches some familiar people leave the room. Once it’s clear again, he speaks up. “Like are you serious?” He could feel his throat becoming more stuffy. “You and me?” She nods. “Really?” She nods again. “That’s crossing the line and Ryan is pretty overprotective. I can’t do that to him.”

“Cool.” Y/N stands perfectly still as she tries her best to maintain eye contact with him. She takes a sip of the coke but later, grabs the bottle of alcohol and pours it into her cup regardless of him watching her. “Well, don’t let Ryan know.” She shrugs her shoulders and laughs. “Thanks for answering my survey!” She gives him an awkward smile then walks out of the room. How can a guy pass up on her??? First rejection has gotta sting. 

This wasn’t some weird guy she was asking though. This was Harry, Ryan’s best friend. If Ness was put in his position, she wouldn’t want her to say yes either. God, she was also going to kill her best friend for putting the most ridiculous game plan in her head.

And although the party continued on, Ness and Y/N didn’t let the earlier events bother them. The two spent hours just fucking around until they found a comfy spot in the living room.

“Y/N, don’t look.” Ness sits beside her on Harry’s couch watching a few strangers play an unfamiliar game on the floor. 

“What?” she quickly looks up to see what Ness is talking about. It wasn’t a surprise to see Harry holding Carla Laws’s hand as they walked up the stairs. They looked pretty excited for a room tour too.

Oh hell no, everyone knows a girl doesn’t go to Harry Styles’ room to just hold hands and a cute sentimental room tour!

“Are you sure he didn’t want to with you?”

“Yes Nessa.” She rolls her eyes and drinks her third cup. “Whatever, if anything at least I don’t feel attracted to him anymore. I found a new ick. He doesn’t even find me attractive.”

“Good. Rejection may hurt but it makes you wake up and face reality.” 

~

Okay if there was one thing Y/N could say now, it was that she is finally over Harry. Overall, he was nothing but a phase. Yes, she was crushing on him for the first semester of the year but after that weird conversation they had, it made sense why they couldn’t work out anyway. He’s a stuck up douche - a typical senior, all while she was a junior who was either too infatuated with him or too horny. Maybe both?

It’s been about two weeks and although Ness made sure to keep trash talking the guy, Y/N knew there was more to him than what her best friend thought. She knew him for years! Maybe the fact he was athletic, charismatic and just kind that made her realize what a perfect guy he was. She knew he was a bit more complex than what other people thought of him and it wasn’t bad at all. 

What she never thought was how awkward it was going to be the next time she saw him. “Hey, Haz.” Ryan opens the door for his buddy as Y/N covers herself with the blanket more all while pretending to watch TV.

For the past couple of days, Ryan was going over to his house and maybe Harry asked him too to come over, but what she didn’t expect was to see him again so soon. 

“Hey Ryan.” Harry takes his jacket and boots off as it just begun to snow outside. “Hey Y/N.” She quickly glances at him and waves. 

“Let’s go to the kitchen first, I wanna get snacks.” Ryan suggests as he walks away, assuming Harry would follow him like usual. 

After thirty minutes, Y/N thought the boys would be upstairs but as she entered the kitchen wearing nothing but her shorts and her brother’s old t-shirt, she was surprised to see Harry and Ryan eating sandwiches at the breakfast bar, looking pretty serious. Did Harry tell him? 

As she walked closer, she noticed both boys were just on their phones, scrolling through different social media platforms. She quickly brushes past them to put her dish in the sink. Ryan seemed unbothered but she could definitely feel Harry’s eyes on her. Once she makes eye contact with him, he quickly takes a sip of his juice and looks at his phone once more. “Y/N can you grab the chips in the cabinet please?” Ryan looks up at his phone and notices his sister was standing right in front of the cupboard. 

“Yeah, no problem.” She turns her back on them and opens the cabinet. She goes on her tiptoes reaching for the only bag of chips. Once she grabs them, she puts them on the counter and walks out of the room, only hearing her brother murmur a thank you. 

It was about 6:30 PM and the parents weren’t home yet. Ryan and Harry decided to chill in the living room when the doorbell rang. Pausing the game, Ryan opened the door to see Tom standing in front of him. “Y/N it’s for you!” He calls out for his sister since he knew Tom was her friend.

“Who’s that?” Harry mouthed.

“Her boyfriend.” Ryan shrugs as he unpauses the game. 

“Tom? What are you doing here?” Y/N walks down the stairs, pulling her shirt down. 

“Vanessa told me to come by. Apparently you need help with the calculus homework? I’m free tonight anyway.” He smiles and gives her a hug. Tom was a really good friend of Ness and Y/N. He was a smart boy that was really kind and obviously had a big crush on Nessa. There was anything he could do for her. 

Y/N instantly bit her cheek and laughed as she remembered Ness’ text message a couple of hours ago when she told her Harry came by. This was definitely one of Ness’ master plans. “You’re so sweet.” She pulls away and laughs. “We can go upstairs, I have a few questions to ask.” She quickly glances at her brother who doesn’t care all while Harry tried his best to maintain his eyes on the screen. 

“Y/N, Put some shorts on!”  Ryan finally yells out as the two went up the stairs. 

~ 

“I don’t get why he throws parties every weekend.” Ness takes a sip of her drink as they sit inside Harry's dining room. They probably weren’t going to stay too long. Everyone was inside due to the cold weather with the occasional smokers outside. Being the only few juniors, there wasn’t much the girls could do other than loiter around, drink a few cups and play the games they knew so well. Y/N wasn’t the type to have random hook ups but you know her exception with Harry. 

“Gemma has gone off for college and Anne is always working really late shifts at the hospital. He’s pretty much anywhere and everywhere besides his house unless it’s a party.”

“True.” 

“I’m going to say bye to my brother then we can head back to mine if you want?” Y/N offers as Nessa nods and downs her drink. 

“I’m going to drink a cup of water. Meet you at the front?”

“Mhm.” They both stand up and leave the room. Nessa was heading straight to the kitchen while Y/N began to wander around the house. 

“Y/N.” Harry calls out her name over the music. He was wearing a while long sleeved shirt that was unbuttoned. It made him look really attractive which almost made Y/N lose her breath. 

“Hey Harry, You know where Ryan is?” The only typical thing she would ever ask him before that one time. (Pretending as if she didn’t sexually harass him last time.) 

“He’s downstairs with the rest of the boys.” He glances around at everyone and looks at her once more. “I’m sorry, are you um- leaving?”

“Yeah me and Nessa are going to call it a night.” She wraps her hoodie around her figure and tries to make her way to the stairs. 

“Want me to give you girls a ride?”

“No no, it’s okay!” She smiles and waves her hand at him. “Nessa drove. You also have a party to h-”

“It’s kind of late maybe she should head home and we can-” And that’s when it hit her. Was Harry Styles trying to isolate her? 

“Oh.” She widens her eyes and slowly nods. “Okay. I’ll let my brother and Ness know. Should I meet you in your car outside?”

“Yeah.” He runs his hand through his hair and quickly leaves her side. After bidding her farewell to Ryan and explaining her interpretation of Harry to Ness, she was  quietly leaving the house as she watched Nessa walk by herself to the car down the street. What surprised Y/N more was to see him in his brown jacket standing by the passenger door. 

“Did you tell Ryan I was dropping you off?” He  nervously smiles as he opens the door for her. He makes sure no one is watching them leave together as he feels the butterflies forming in his stomach. 

“No.” She puts her hood on and sits in his car. She was picking on her stockings trying to avoid the awkward tension between them. Once Harry sat inside and they both put their seatbelts on, they were on their way to her house. It was weird knowing she was actually leaving a party with her brother’s best friend so she could suck his- 

 “What happens if they notice you’re gone?”

“Um, I’m sure they’ll think i'm elsewhere doing stuff.” She knew what he was thinking about and that made her a bit uncomfortable but it didn’t change the fact it was true.

“Are you still down to y’know?” Harry honestly never thought he would be this nervous talking to Ryan’s little sister. 

“Yeah.” She bites her lip as they glance at each other. 

“Cool. Are you like a virgin or something. I mean is there anything that I should know about?”

“No.” She shakes her head and low-key observes how he drives. 

This was going to be one hell of a night. 

Harry has seen Y/N’s room a countless number of times but to actually be with her by themselves in Ryan’s house made him feel really guilty. That guilt however, was shoved in the back of his throat. The girl in the room with his was obviously the best distraction. “I like your room.” he smirks at her as he looks at her soccer trophy collection from grade school. 

“Thanks.” She laughs lightly as she takes off her jacket. She quickly texts an update to Ness before putting the phone on do not disturb. 

“So before we start, what made you ask the offer?” He takes his jacket off and throws it on her chair. He sits on her bed and glances at the time. It was still early, so people probably weren’t going to be looking for him. 

“This is going to sound really dumb but I’ve had this crush on you since the cruise last summer. Well, you know Nessa... she had this thought and she thinks it is just pent up sexual frustration?” She shakes her head of saying the whole idea out loud. “So I thought maybe I should just get it out of my system.” Harry laughs as he takes in of what she just said. it made her smile as well.

“You were checking me out all summer?” He asks her in disbelief. “Little Y/N wanted to jump my bones?” He started to smirk at her. Although they didn’t know each other too well, the awkward tension was gone with just one simple laugh of his. 

“Stop laughing.” She throws a pillow at him. “I didn’t think you would say no.”

“I didn’t want to say no Y/N are you crazy? I’m laughing because I kept checking you out in those tiny bikinis you used to wear.” He throws the pillow to the side and shakes his head. “I don’t want to cross Ryan like that but I think i need to get you out of my system too.”

“Mhm and why’s that?” She locks her door and sits on the bed with him. “Because Carla couldn’t distract me from seeing you in my sheets.” He leans in and kisses her. “Tom coming by a few days ago with you wearing nothing but those little shorts was already making me lose my mind.” He whispers and kisses her again. 

Y/N immediately sits on his lap while trying her best to keep his mouth on her’s. Everything about this was so hot. She was about to just rip his clothes off. 

“One and done yeah?” Y/N rubs herself on him as her fingers tangle themselves in his hair. He kisses down her neck while grabbing her ass. 

“One and done. Just to get you out of my system.” He confirms with her as he gently throws her on the bed. He’s pulling his long sleeve off and taking his shirt off but once he begins unbuckling his jeans, he couldn’t help but notice Y/N trying to take her shirt off as well. “Fuck.” He murmurs as he gently unbuttons her long sleeve to help her take it off. In a flash, he’s on his knees unzipping her skirt and taking her stockings off as well. “You looked really pretty tonight by the way.” His cheeks flush as he throws her bottoms behind his back. Y/N laughs quietly and she sits up and brings his face closer to hers. 

“I actually would like to say the same exact thing.” He leans in to kiss her once more. Her lips were extremely soft and forbidden and it was making him slowly lose his mind all over again. Y/N thought Harry was just a phase but that seemed impossible as she was already dreading the fact this was a one and done situation. 

“You’re just so fucking soft and alluring.” He whispers in her ear as he unclasped her bra. “I already know I need to fuck you hard.” Y/N eyes’ roll back as she feels his wet mouth on her nipple as the other one massaged the other. Her hands were trying really hard to focus on the task at hand which was to undo his pants but it was definitely not working with the way he was distracting her. Not a single thought could process in her mind.

“I think since this is a one and done situation, you better make this memorable.” She whispers and bites her lip as she tries to hold back a moan. His fingers were teasing her covered entrance but Harry could feel her drenched spot already clenching at his presence. 

“Memorable? I’ll definitely leave my mark on you.” He sucks on her mouth more roughly than usual as he rubs his fingers on her centre. “You wanted me so bad baby? You just had to beg me huh?” He gestures his hips more forward to help her with his pants. 

“I’m kind of new to this. Be a bit patient.” Y/N laughs as she gently unzips his pants after numerous attempts.  

“You just ruined the moment.” He laughs with her as he kisses her forehead and takes his pants off as well. “Just kidding, this is probably the most fun I had.” He hovers over her again and teases her entrance. 

“What do you mean?” She lays on her back and roams her hands all over his chest. 

“Never got the chance to tease the fuck out of a pretty girl then fuck her hard.” He slaps her clit and bites down on her lip. She suddenly lets out a moan that makes her eyes flutter and her chest rise closer up to his face. 

He brings two of his fingers to her mouth and slowly lets her lick on it before rimming her entrance and shoving it in without any warning. His thumb slowly rubs her swollen numb as he can’t help but rub himself on her sheets as well. “You mind if I get a little bit of a taste? I’ve been dying to know. I saw you earlier at the party and I had to jerk myself off seeing you in those little stockings of yours.” 

“You. You jerked yourself off thinking about me, baby?” She looks down at him and smiles softly. He gives her a little smirk before pulling his hand away and heading his head down a bit south. His tongue dips slowly on the left side of her leg as his hands grip her thighs tightly, sure of the bruises to form soon.

“You’re like a fucking wet dream. How can I say no to you?” He urgently swipes his whole tongue on her centre. “I saw you earlier and had to go to my room.” He takes another lick. “Fuck baby, the best i’ve fucking tasted. Fuck oh fuck.” He precisely observes the way your whole swallows his fingers in and clench so tightly around him. His tongue dipping and switching with his fingers because he honestly can’t decide which is best. 

“Harry, fuck me please baby.” Y/N moans loudly as she harshly grabs on her boobs. She’s never been fucked this good. It was honestly feeling like a dream. With that being said, she’s only had sex a handful of times but Harry seemed like such an expert in the field. “Oh God.” She tries to pull away. She wasn’t sure if she could continue on with Harry obsessively licking and sucking on her wet centre. 

He looks up and watches her eyes roll back as her fingers begin to pull on his head aggressively. His only reflex is to spread her legs wider. After her first orgasm, Y/N lays on her back staring at her ceiling trying to catch her breath. 

“Fuck me.”

“We aren’t done yet, love.” He laughs at her cuteness. He can’t remember the last time where he wasn’t rushing to finish himself off. He was taking his time with Y/N since it’s what she deserves. He lays down beside her and kisses down her chest. “Tell me when you’re ready to go, yeah?” He dips his tongue on her shoulder until it reaches the huge hickey he left on her collarbone. He gently licks around it and sucks on it again. 

He was a bit surprised to see Y/N sit up and grab a condom from her drawer. “Thank you for fucking the shit out of me, I’ll gladly return the favour.” She smiles and tucks her hair behind her ear as she focuses on putting the contraceptive on him. Just touching it was already forming butterflies in her stomach. 

“I could’ve been fucking you on that cruise.” he mischievously smiles at her as he watches the way her pretty tits move. 

“You were sharing a room with my brother.” She hisses as she holds onto his shaft trying to gently ease the pain as she fully sits on him. 

“But you were alone.” He grabs onto her waist and helps her. “You’re so beautiful fuck.” He sits up on her headboard as her palms rest on his chest. Both of their eyes couldn’t help but watch the way he was easily penetrating her. 

“Was touching myself because of you.” She mumbles out as her speed begins to increase.

“What did you say baby?” He almost chokes on his breath as he can feel her fully taking him in. 

“Couldn’t stop thinking of you on that cruise. I needed you to rail the fuck out of me.” She moans louder as she starts to feel his hips meet her. 

“Fuck me. So perfect, Shit.” He quickly turns them around and shoves himself back into her. His hand immediately tightens around her neck and once he is about to pull it away, she keeps his hand on her. 

“Fuck me harder.” She cries out as his arm begins to push her legs up. He spits in between their centres before thrusting as hard as he can. All you could hear was her headboard banging against the wall as his hand continuously choked the fuck out of her. 

“I bet you like getting spanked too huh?” He bites his lip and semi turns her body before slapping her ass. 

“Harry fuck.”

“Come on, baby. Be a good girl and come around my cock.”

“Fuck fuck fuck.” Y/N cries out as her fingernails scratch his back. “Come in my mouth. I want to taste you so bad please.” tears begin to form in her eyes as she continues to clench around his dick. Harry immediately pulls off the condom and helps her sit up on her knees. She absolutely could not feel a thing below her stomach but with Harry’s hard cock in her mouth, she was already closing her eyes and trusting him with everything she was. She’s never been this fucking vulnerable, she was literally about to pass the fuck out. 

She was softly holding onto his thighs but her hands found comfort on his waist as he began to fuck her mouth harder. Harry on the other hand, kept his eyes on how her mouth was taking him in. He watched the way his fingers wrap around her hair tightly as he brought his hips closer and closer until he could feel her gagging on his dick. Without a warning, he immediately pulls out and spills all over her face.

“Why’d you do that?” She opens her eyes and pouts. She was pretty upset how she couldn’t taste him spill into her mouth. So her finger immediately takes a swipe of his spill and puts it in her mouth. Without hesitation, she’s taking his forming soft dick in her hands before softly licking it clean and softly sucking on his balls. She takes his shaft and swipes her cheek once more before licking the rest of his spill from his shaft. 

“You’re going to make me hard again if you keep doing that baby. Might not be as nice as I was this time.” 

“Maybe I want another round?” She gestures him to lie down as she continues to kiss and suck on his cock. 

“Thought it was a one and done.” He softly smiles as he removes some of the hair from her face.

“How about a one and done night?”

“Deal.”

And although they thought this was crossing a line, they already knew the moment their lips touched, they wouldn’t be able to stop.

~

“Wait so he changed his mind!” Nessa laughs as they drive back home. “Bitch how are you at school today? I literally saw you limping at lunch.”

“Shut up.” Y/N mouth widens as she rubs her face. “I don’t know what happened okay? We said one and done but we honestly went a couple of rounds before I had to wake him up so he could drive back home.”

“But is he out of your system? Don’t get me wrong Harry’s a fine guy but like dating wise? He’s been with other girls but somehow always goes back to Carla. They’ve been like that before you and Ryan moved here.” 

“Yeah, he’s out of my system.” Y/N laughs but truth be told, some nights when she can’t sleep, she’ll find herself staring at the ceiling. 

“Why are you guys home so early?” Nessa asks once they step inside the house. There was a good comparison between Nessa and Ryan with Y/N and Harry. First off, Nessa literally saw Ryan as her older brother which meant they were pretty vocal towards each other. Secondly, Nessa was very comfortable at Y/N’s house almost as if this was her second home. 

“Carla and Cassidy are coming over.” Ryan smirks as Harry cleans the living room behind him. “During the party last night, I may have asked if they wanted to come over for a double date game night thing. Mom and Dad are cool with it since it's a Monday which is their date night too.

“Oh have fun.” Y/N buds in and laughs. “Make sure to actually vacuum please. You don’t want the girls finding your crumbs on the carpet.” She takes her jacket off as Nessa follows behind her up the stairs. Harry obviously tried to ignore the fact, she bluntly ignored him. 

“Double date? Damn, you guys really did just fuck and brushed it under the carpet.”

“It meant nothing right. So?” Y/N tries to brush off the topic as she sets her backpack down. “Why won’t you sit down?” “On that bed?” Nessa smiles awkwardly as she glances at the double bed near the wall. 

“I changed the sheets.” Y/N takes her shirt off and replaces it with another loose top. She unzips her pants and wears her black tights instead.

“So should we invite ourselves to their double date?” Nessa raises her eyebrows as she lays down on the bed. 

“No because it’s weird and I don’t want Harry to think I’m jealous.”

“I think you are.”

“Nope, I told you I don’t like him like that anymore and he’s out of my system.” She tries to ignore the fact, how she swallowed him without hesitation.

“Okay but wouldn’t it be better to prove to yourself you are just by being around him.” And although Y/N wanted to protest that, the two best friends ended up being invited by Ryan to play downstairs anyway. 

“You girls want a refill?” Ryan sits up from the coffee table as he cleans up the empty red cups. Ness, Carla, and Cassidy wanted a new one which made Y/N go help her brother out in the kitchen. 

“Are you having fun?” Ryan asks as he throws the cups in the recycling. Y/N pours the preferred drinks in the new cups as she looks up at her brother. 

“Yeah, I was wondering why you invited Ness and I. Don’t you think we’re cock-blocking?”

“Harry suggested you guys hang out with us while we played games. More competition is fun y’know. Plus you and Nessa can leave whenever.”

“Oh cool. Thanks, I guess?” 

“Yup.” He grabs two cups as she does. She couldn’t help but notice how Ryan suddenly started cheering. “Yeah, Styles get it! Woooo!” Y/N turns her eyes to notice Harry and Carla making out on the floor by the coffee table. 

“Are you guys dating again?” Cassidy laughs as she tries not to watch them make out.

“Sure.” Carla pulls away and pecks his cheek. Nerissa was just watching Y/N’s reaction and she knew it was a bad one. 

“Y/N could you walk me to the car? Appa just texted me and he’s wondering where I am. I forgot it was his birthday.” Nessa speaks up.

“Oh shit.” Y/N was clueless of her excuse. Which thankfully made her seem more genuinely in a rush to get out of the room. She sets the drinks on the table before going upstairs with Ness.

“How did you forget it was Appa’s birthday, Ness?” 

“I don’t know.” She packs her things up. “Why don’t you come with me? He’s gonna blow his cake soon.”

“Oh, I don’t want-”

“Come.” And if there was one thing Y/N knew well about Nessa, it was that she wouldn’t ever forget it was Appa’s birthday, especially if she just celebrated it a couple of months ago. Without a fight to say no, Y/N immediately grabs a hoodie as they walk down the stairs. 

“Ryan, I’m going to Ness’ to celebrate Appa’s birthday. I’ll be home soon before Mom and Dad comes home.”

“Oh okay.” Ryan waves at his sister as his arms rests on Cassidy’s shoulder. 

“Bye guys!” Ness and Y/N wave as they both exit the house immediately. Harry stays unbothered as he takes another sip of his beer. 

“Thank you for getting me the fuck out of there.” 

“It’s okay. We don’t actually have to leave you know. It’s 6 PM, I can drive the car to a different neighbourhood and you can cry all about him there.”

“I love you.” Y/N begins to tear up. 

“I love you too.”

~

“What’s Tom doing here?” Ryan’s eyes are in shock as he watches his sister hold hands with the familiar boy. What’s confusing is that Y/N went to Ness’ for a birthday. 

“He just wanted to come over.” She smiles innocently as she waves hi to the same party. It was just about 7 PM and the double date duo was watching an unfamiliar movie on TV. Nessa called Tom and Y/N had to explain their situation. Although he didn’t really want to do it. He knew Y/N wanted to prove something to the Harry guy. So as long as they didn’t do anything romantic or weird that would cross his boundaries, Tom was okay with it. 

“Aw, I didn’t know you were dating Thomas?” Cassidy smiles as she walks in with a bowl of popcorn. She hands it to Carla who is cuddling up against Harry on one of the sofas.

“We aren’t dating.” They both look at each other and laugh. Tom shakes his head and pulls Y/N up the stairs instead. 

Once the pair is gone, the dates begin to watch their movie again. “Ryan, you really don’t care if your sister is by herself with that boy?” Carla laughs as she feeds herself and Harry popcorn.

“I’m definitely not going to interfere with that, they’re probably doing the nasty already.” His eyes widen as he stuffs more popcorn down his mouth and although, Harry was keeping his eyes on the screen, there wasn’t anything sitting well with him knowing the girl he was with on the weekend was already in somebody else’s arms. 

The goal was to get each other out of their systems, why the fuck are they so jealous then?

great plan Vanessa. 

Part deux ici 

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Hot summers and warm feelings

summary: reader and Hu Tao spend a hot summer day advertising and cooling down

characters: Hu Tao x gn!reader

a/n: This fic is different from my usual ones, not headcannon-y like the others, but I wanted to experiment a little bit, so I hope it turned out somewhat decent.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Work at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour was many things. Sometimes it was calm, other times burying corpses turned out to be quite a depressing job, no matter how little you knew the person lying in front of you, and on some occasions your boss’ behaviour and “advertisement”, or however she called those trips she would drag you along, made it so that you wished you were the one lying 6 feet under the ground. But if there was one word with which you would be able to describe what working in the Funeral Parlour during summer was like, it would be “hell”.

Every summer since you started working at your job was a brutal reminder that the building you were working in was an old one. Sure, it has had many renovations in the years, but somehow nobody ever had the idea to install any ways of cooling the building down or keeping the heat outside. And while some may have accustomed to the heat, you were still as bothered by it as you were the first time you had to sit inside those walls during the heat. There weren’t many commissions the Funeral Parlour had to work on, so most of your working hours were spent inside of your office, with all windows opened as much as possible and you completely leaned back in your chair, dangerously close to dying due to a heat stroke at every moment. But even though you had almost no energy to do anything besides trying to breathe, you nevertheless attempted to straighten yourself when you heard the door open, only for your boss to dance into the room.

“Aiya, you look like a corpse. What happened to you?”, she began asking in her usual playful manner, only for you to shoot her a small glare before continuing to drown in a mix of self-pity and sweat. You had no idea what kind of pact with the gods Hu Tao had made to feel fine in her clothes no matter the time of the year, even though her shorts ought to make her freeze in winter while her coat would make even people with unfathomable low body temperatures sweat from just seeing her wear it in summer, and nevertheless here she stood, not showing the slightest hint of feeling hot.

“Do you need me for something important or can it wait? I’m somewhat busy right now”, you questioned her in return, your voice betraying both your jealousy and your frustration.

“Are you sure that you can call what you’re doing ‘being busy’?”, she shot back, and even though you didn’t care enough to look at her, you were aware of the smile on her lips. But while you might have reacted to her mocking on other days, there was no way you would do more than absolutely necessary on a day like this. “Anyway, we’re going advertising now. So, get up and make yourself ready!”, she announced, seeming as excited as always, even though her advertisement would never achieve its goals. But no matter how many pleading stares you would send in her direction, her decision didn’t seem to change, and so you were forced to stand up from your chair, pick up the flyers that would get thrown into the nearest bin by the person unlucky enough to receive it, that was if they even accepted it, and follow her around in the summer heat.

But when you were finally done with going from door to door, even though your success had been moderate at best, and you decided to lean against the nearest tree, hoping the shadow it casted would be enough to make the heat somewhat more bearable, you were surprised when Hu Tao popped up in front of you with two popsicles in her hands, offering one of them to you before signalling you to follow her once again, this time in the direction of the harbour.

“And so, we once again finish a successful advertisement trip”, she stated while walking in front of you, you chose not to disagree with her, feeling that it wouldn’t be the best course of action for you to take, since she had been kind enough to buy you a popsicle and was the person enabling you to pay your bills. “It’s kind of warm, how about we go and try cooling down at the harbour?”, she suggested before sharply turning around, startling you in the process, only to laugh at you for your reaction. And even though her mocking would usually make you get defensive, this time you couldn’t help but laugh with her, only to be once again dragged by her when you nodded in response.

“Are you often at the harbour?”, you finally spoke up for once when the two of you had arrived at your destination and sat down at the edge, allowing your feet to get cooled by the water, deciding that a little bit of small talk wouldn’t hurt. For a few seconds Hu Tao seemed to think about your question, only for her to eventually blurt out her answer.

“Sometimes when it’s warm I just come here and do what we’re doing right now. Other times I wander around here at night just to see how the harbour looks like without anyone around”, she responded before getting uncharacteristically silent and staring at the water for a few seconds before finally turning her attention back to you. “Can you swim?”

You had a bad feeling about what was about to happen, so when you nodded and immediately felt Hu Tao push your back with enough force to make you fall into the water, you immediately grabbed her hand and pulled her down with you, making her yelp in surprise. “Well, I guess that was deserved”, she admitted after a few second in the water before breaking out in laughter, quickly causing you to do the same. But once you decided that you had spent enough time in the water, the both of you quickly crawled out of it, still catching yourself giggle at what had happened, only to immediately shiver once the air made contact with your soaked clothes and hair.

“I think we should get back as quickly as possible and change clothes”, you suggested, only for Hu Tao to start laughing at you again.

“What? Are you cold now? Even though you were complaining about the heat this whole time”, she mocked you, but when you pointed out her slightly shivering as well, she shot you another quick smile before signalling you to follow her back. And while the sight of two employees of the Funeral Parlour walking through the city, chatting and laughing while being completely drenched might have been a weird thing to see for most residents of Liyue, the two of you were too busy having fun to care.

Over the next few weeks Hu Tao and you would go on “advertisement” duty more and more frequently, even though the actual time spent going from door to door decreased with each time. But you didn’t complain, going around outside and finding new ways to cool down after finishing your job was far more enjoyable than sitting in your hot office, and spending the time with Hu Tao wasn’t as bad as you first imagined it to be.

[yourlocalshittywriter]

The Duty of a Hero

Author’s Note: Howdy folks! I’m here with my first proper fic and I really hope that y’all like it! This will be exploring what could’ve happened if the Dabi that Aizawa fought wasn’t one of Twice’s clones. Since this is a fight, I advise the folks that are sensitive to things like that to click off and read another fic. Also, since this story does change scenery and moods a bit, I included some songs that change along with the the stories mood! This is mainly just because I like showing off my music taste and shit. Here’s Part 2!

Songs to Go Along: The Fighter by In This Moment, Acid Bubble by Alice In Chains, The Great Gig In The Sky by Pink Floyd

I felt extremely at peace for once in life. I felt the normal crackling of my joints silence into a warm nothingness. My aching muscles that had been torn to shreds time and time again, the ones that had been strained and stretched beyond the limits of the human body seemed to reform perfectly as they melted into the rest of my numb form. My skin, a forest of calluses, scars, stitches, and open wounds felt as if it was no longer there. I was no longer confined to the space of my body, and instead moved around as freely as water or air. I was a sort of goo, unmoving, stationary, simple, yet free. 

With a quirk as self-destructive as mine, becoming a hero was a sort of death wish. My quirk was known as “pain transfer.” Anytime I made eye contact with a person, I could activate my quirk and subject myself to pain only to have them suffer the pain of the injury for as long as I was looking at them. I could also transfer existing pain to my target. Although I may have had a wicked high pain tolerance and quick recovery period, my humanity was bound to catch up to me eventually. Quirks like mine, “villainous quirks” according to most people, should be kept hidden and the people born with them should go on to live normal lives as ordinary civilians. My parents were among these people. When I told them that I was enrolling in the hero course at UA, I was given the choice to either become a hero and be disowned, or ditch my pipe dream and stay their beloved child. I packed my things that night.

It was a miracle that I passed the entrance exam the next day. I was running on little sleep, the loss of my financial support, and the trauma that came with the realization that your parents didn’t love you anymore because you didn’t live in a way that they approved of. I had trained since my will to become a hero first arrived, a sort of passionate drive that crashed into my life so unexpectedly that the impact nearly gave me whiplash. 

I supposed that that inferno of, what? Spite? No, not spite, something deeper, hotter, and more righteous than spite. Let’s say ardor. This ardor was what drove me to take out as many robots as I could, despite the fact that my quirk was utterly useless in this situation. I took out a decent amount of robots, at least, decent enough to get into the hero course. A lady by the name of Recovery Girl healed me before I went on my way. I thought that I just had a few scrapes and bruises, but apparently I had a broken wrist. Surprisingly, I wasn’t the worst-off there, some poor kid broke both of his arms and one of his legs. 

The time between this moment and when I got into UA seems to have flown by. I came into UA, a semi-blank canvas, and now here I was, bleeding out on the campsite that I planned to spend my summer at with my classmates. Dying feels far less painful than one would assume; you really don’t even realize that you’re dying at first. It’s sort of like that feeling you get after eating a warm meal after starving for so long, sickening at first, but comforting after you grow used to it. It’s like taking a hot bath after spending a day in the snow; it burns at first, but the burning subsides into a comforting numbness. Your senses slowly dull into nothingness but your brain is left to conjure whatever image it pleases. I could have seen dead relatives, met idols, or even pictured an alternate life where my parents still loved me, but I didn’t.

I didn’t want it. Fame, fortune, admiration, acceptance, rebirth, none of it. I wanted none of it. I wanted to live. I wanted to do what I swore to do as soon as I got into UA. I wanted what I signed up for when I packed my bags and left my parents’ house at age fourteen. I wanted what I fought tooth and nail for. I wanted my ambitions and goals fulfilled.

Of course I wanted what I had worked for, that was beyond obvious, however, I also wanted the small things in life. I wanted my afternoon tea with Yaoyorozu, Sato, and Todoroki. I wanted my fashion shows with Aoyama, Ashido, and Hagakure. I wanted my midnight conversations with Shinsou and Tokoyami. I wanted my video game sessions with Kaminari and Sero. I wanted my morning meditation meetings with Shoji, Ojiro, and Koda. I wanted to watch pro-wrestling with Bakugou and Kirishima. I wanted to train with Iida, Uraraka, and Midoriya. I wanted to swim with Asui. I wanted to listen to music with Jiro and Mr. Present Mic. I wanted inappropriate jokes with Ms. Midnight. I wanted to make Mr. Aizawa proud; I wanted to make myself proud. So, with so many incredible things to live for, I opened my eyes, and attempted to move.

Much to my distaste, it turns out that my relief from pain, as well as the disassociation from my body was nothing more than a thin veil that was easily permeated as I rose from near death. The forest was nothing more than a verdant blur, one that was far from easy to navigate. However, all things end eventually, so I decided to run from death and wherever I ended up would be the least of my worries. I sprinted through the disorder and dysfunction, and wound up walking in on my teacher fighting the son of a bitch who had left me to die a lonely death with only the company of insects and whatever plants were to take over my wilting corpse.

As Mr. Aizawa tackled the cremation villain, I rose from the forest, stared at the man in restraints, and activated my quirk. As the pain transferred from me to him, I felt the veil of insensibility slip over me once more. The villain howled out in agony, the very agony that he had inflicted on me only minutes before. 

“Whatever you do, don’t break your gaze Eraserhead!” I chimed as I finally straightened my form, not wanting the hero to see me in such a state, “You’ll just have to trust me on this one!” Mr. Aizawa nodded, keeping a steady gaze on his target.

“Tried to kill me off?” I snarled as I made my way towards the sadistic bastard and beloved teacher holding him in place.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” the captive growled through gritted teeth, still under an amount of pain that would knock-out any average human. He looked beyond pissed that I survived, as if he took offense to the fact that I didn’t appreciate his work. I waltzed over to him, just far enough from Mr. Aizawa, but just close enough to the charred villain. 

“Surprise, I remain,” I cooed, low enough for only the villain to hear. He bared his teeth at me, looking at me as if he were some sort of rabid animal. I wanted to taunt him. I wanted to make fun of the fact that he had been taken down by a high schooler and their teacher, but I knew that it was never good to brag, because Karma would usually come to bite you in the ass for it. 

I stared at the man covered in staples, every blink I took releasing him from the effects of my quirk. Every blink motivated me to continue staring at him, to immobilize him so Mr. Aizawa could use his eye drops or blink, to buy him some time. However, I knew that this game of “pass the villain” could only go on for so long. Something had to be done. Eventually, the patchwork villain would catch both of us off guard and use his quirk, or one of his buddies would come and back him up. Mr. Aizawa and I were miles away from my peers or the rest of the pro-heroes. It was just the two of us up against this villain, and we were growing tired.

Only minutes after the realization had struck me, the villain escaped from Mr. Aizawa’s scarf when the two of us accidentally blinked at the same time. The human crematorium stood before us, and before I could use my quirk to disable him, he shot out a flurry of blue flames my way.

I dodged this attack as Mr. Aizawa ran towards the villain, yelling out the name “Dabi.” Before Mr. Aizawa was able to restrain him, Dabi grabbed the erasure hero and threw him headfirst into a brick wall, effectively knocking him out. I desperately wanted to check on my partner in battle, but I knew that I couldn’t let my guard down, because now Dabi was staring me directly in the eye.

I could attempt to charge at him, but I would be charred to bits, and even if I somehow managed to avoid his flames, I would meet the same fate as Eraserhead, knocked out and at Dabi’s mercy. I was screwed, I had no back up, my teacher was unconscious, and I was face to face with one of Japan’s most notorious criminals. I was dead meat.

That was until I devised a plan, one that would take out the cremation villain for good. One that would end his reign of terror once and for all. However, there was only one downside to this plan, and that was the fact that this plan would result in two casualties, Dabi and me. However, if I went with any other plan, Mr. Aizawa and I were to become the victims while Dabi walked off scot free. 

I was destined to become a martyr.

With that realization, I turned to my teacher who was slowly coming to his senses and gave him a gentle smile,

“Eraserhead, it has truly been a pleasure,” I announced as Dabi’s arrogant gaze turned to one of confusion. As Mr. Aizawa slowly faded back into his previously comatose state before he had time to be confused, I focused my gaze back on the blue-flamed bastard. It was time to end it, to end his rule once and for all.

I reached into my pocket, grabbed a tiny weapon that fit perfectly in my hand, locked eyes with the villain, smirked, and painlessly slit my neck. As Dabi grasped his neck and choked on his unseen blood, which was truly my blood, he fell to his knees.

As I took what I knew were my last steps, I came face to face with the first half to my murder-suicide. He glared at me, an amalgam of agony that felt nothing at all, and snarled.

“I’ll see you in hell, you cunt.”

I laughed, of all the things he could’ve chosen to be his final words, he chose to give into the childish desire to have the last word with me. As his oddly-familiar eyes drained of life, I felt the pain I had so carelessly inflicted upon myself finally hit me like a freight train.

I began to choke as I fell to my knees, similarly to how Dabi had fallen only seconds before. I knew that my time was up soon, I would succumb to my injuries and lose the thing I had fought tooth and nail for only moments before. I looked to the horizon to find the sun casting his loving gaze upon my battered body. It was as if Apollo himself was granting me a warrior’s death, like he knew I had made some kind of a righteous sacrifice that warranted a soothing transition from death to afterlife.

The sunrise was something like I had never seen before. The blues burned brighter than the flames I had defeated minutes before, the yellow pooled around my weary being like an evening gown to a death dance, and the red painted a comforting scene in the clouds, as if to distract me from my own red that painted my body and the ground around me. I smiled my final smile as I walked into the loving embrace of the sun.

My duty as a hero had been fulfilled.

[rcksmith]

Felling — Five Hargreeves

Request: “Hi love could you maybe do #38 from the fluff prompts for Five where maybe Five is struggling with accepting the reader trying to be like romantic or affectionate with him !!! Thank you I love you !!!!”

Fluff Prompts:

38. “You say you hate it but your red face is telling me otherwise.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here!!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

I loved this request so much! I found it so cute and adorable!! ❤️ I hope it got close to what you wanted. I love you❤️

Here I used some fragments of Five's original chronology because it would help with the plot, but guys, keep in mind, please, that he is a 20 or more.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves/Fem! Reader.

Warnings: Just bad words, it is very fluff.

— — — — — —

The Hargreeves were a family full of wounds, trauma and deep-seated fears. They were trained to be super heroes. Strong, courageous, centered, perfect. And that was why no emotion could be on the way to that goal. Feeling love, passion, affection and affection was the gateway to becoming vulnerable. And a superhero couldn't be vulnerable. So they were denied that their whole lives.

Within each one pulsed a different problem, a different trauma. Denying love to a child only made him develop complications to connect with his emotions, feel empathy and be able to deal with different contrasts in a healthy way.

The Hargreeves brothers' lives were not easy, but some of them found, in the beginning, a way to connect with different types of love; Luther and Alissom for each other, Diego for the maternal love, Klaus and Ben in the partnership and complicity for each other. Vayna found her way in love for her brothers when her biggest internal problems were resolved.

But Five... well, Five was alone in the abyss of the apocalypse.

He did not have a chance to mature his feelings, deal with his psychological and transform the various traumas into something productive and healthy. Then, in the midst of loneliness, devastation and chaos, Five just threw his feelings under the rug until, like his childhood brothers, they stopped harassing him.

As they never had the opportunity to mature, those sensations remained on a primitive level. And his complications to bond with his emotions became even more broken when Five had to kill for the Commission.

Facing death and being the author of such devastation was not a mild endeavor. The smell of death was still in the air if Five stopped to concentrate on breathing, and the murder scenes were still fresh in his mind when he slept. But, just as Five did with any feeling, he just pushed them under the rug once again.

He didn't want to deal with them. They brought, for Five, pains, fears, weaknesses and a constant reminder that, perhaps, he... had failed in many things. And Five hated seeing himself as a failure.

And that was when he came home. And even when the waters have calmed down, when the winter breeze gently touched his face, when he can rest, dealing with feelings was something he still repudiated.

But that's when Five met you, and his whole world was turned upside down. When you first looked into his eyes, fierce, warm heat swept through Five's body, from the top of his head to his toes. The heat immediately gave way to a cold sweat.

Five thought it was just a second of madness, in which his system had given a blue screen for something else, not for you. But as soon as you smiled at him, there was a quick feeling of being stabbed near the diaphragm or in the belly. His composure didn't waver an inch, but he felt like he couldn't breathe.

The situation took on unimaginable proportions. You are going the Hargreeves mansion a lot times , since, what has been said, you were friends with the brothers, and Five lived lost in an agitated sea of ​​exasperating feelings whenever he was near you.

You were brilliant as the sun, smiling as happiness, beautiful as masterpieces and stunning as the evening. You were the personification of…Perfection, was the Five thought at the time. And it almost broke his heart, because he could never have you for himself.

Five couldn't because, as much as he refused to admit it, wouldn't know how. He couldn't because the whirlwind of emotions was a fierce scream that caused a stir in his mind. Five looked at you and saw a masterpiece - sublime and human art at the same time - and he didn't know how to name those emotions. And now, unexpectedly trapped by the intensity, Five was unable to reason properly when he was close to you.

All he could see was an excessively beautiful girl who was standing in front of him as something he wanted very much. And if you understood the state Five was in whenever you talked to him, you would have stopped at the first sentence. No, if you really understood, you would end up running as fast as you could. But you could not understand what Five did not understand.

So he preferred the loneliness of the apocalypse to those emotions that made him feel hot and cold at the same time, which seemed like his stomach was filling with birds, all beating their wings and trying to escape, and then his hands started to shake.

Five didn't know what it was all about, a mixture of emotions; attraction, passion, an overwhelming desire to touch you. But even if he knew how to name it all, he wouldn't know how to act. Five was a genius, he could solve the biggest equations about space and time with his eyes closed, but as a lover, however, he put his feet in his hands.

Five never thought of the most tender emotions without coldness and objectivity, they were great to justify the actions of human beings. But you have revoked absolutely everything.

Over time, it started to hurt physically in Five not to touch you, not to succumb to the most overwhelming wills. And then, one night he took refuge in a bottle of vodka, you walked in the door and it was the end for Five. He got up from the bar, came to you in determined and firm steps, and, sending everything to hell, held your face in his hands and kissed you as if he wanted to do this for a lifetime. Maybe more.

You were the opposite of Five. It was as if you were the heat and he was the ice, day and night. You burned like summer heat and Five burned like winter cold. You were everything Five was not: extroverted, agitated, knew how to deal with emotions very well, you were passionate, caring, loving, you loved physical contact. So when you returned the kiss, Five felt himself burning with your warm touch.

You wrapped your fingers around the black strands on the back of his neck, letting him put your bodies together and the kiss started to heat up. And then you said:

“You're beautiful.”

And that's where Five fell in love with you. He fell in love because when you took a breath and looked into his eyes when you said that, he felt like you could see the depths of his soul, all the secrets, all the sins, all the fears. You knew him, deeply.

Five was no longer able to stay away from you after this event. He always chose your side at a table, he was very less acid in conversation whit you were. And when you two played chess, and he let you win on purpose just to see your happy smile and your eyes shining, he knew was in trouble.

While Five tried to deal with so many new emotions and so many traumas, you were the opposite. You have been in love with him for so long, even when you saw his painting on top of the fireplace, you felt something different. So when you two kissed, came closer, you let your feelings out.

You were a loving person by nature, you loved hugging people, physical contact. You were an incorrigible romantic and, to be honest, you loved being like that. You loved feeling too much.

So with Five it was no different. You liked holding hands, hugs, more tender kisses and also quick hello kisses or bye. You loved touching physically, either way. But being like that taught you that many people didn't taste the same as you. And in the case of the Hargreeves, so broken and lost, dealing with feelings was not easy, especially to express it physically.

But with Five it was… more difficult.

He was very reserved, controlled, closed. You felt perfectly when he went rigid whenever you touched him: any affection on the arm, kiss on the cheek when you had to go to college, hugs.

You started to think that maybe he didn't like you that much or didn't want something serious, but Five was always looking for you. Whether showing up at your apartment, in your room, or going to be near you at the mansion or kissing you. So you ended up realizing that he just didn't handle feelings well.

It was very cold that night, you were in your room with the books and college notebooks on the bed, trying to solve some calculus equations, otherwise you would end up repeating in that subject. Your head was already pounding and you were getting frustrated, it was definitely not for you and your desire was to hit your head on the book and give up.

“What a nightmare.” You mumbled.

“What a nightmare?”

The voice at your side made you scream out in fright, turning to the left and seeing Five standing on the edge of your bed. The distilled moonlight came in through your open window and bathed the man in front of him with a builder in his black hair and alabaster skin, you held your breath, Five was always so beautiful that he should be considered a crime.

His hands were in the pockets of his dark pants, followed by the shirt and blazer from the Academy uniform. Five looked at you with a small condescending smile in the corner of your mouth, and you felt your heart pounding.

“Ah, it's just a college subject.” You sighed, looking at the notebooks in front of you “It's a nightmare.”

Then Five leaned forward, looking closely at your notes.

“You know where you went wrong, don't you?”

You jaw dropped, and you turned to the notebooks with your calculations. That was the only exercise that you thought was correct.

You felt frustration rising from your feet to your head, snaking through your body. You snorted, running your hand through your hair, it had been hours since you tried to understand that misfortune.

“I will never graduate, that's it. I accept the defeat of the God of mathematics.” You grunted, leaving the pencil on top of the books, giving up.

Five laughed softly, sitting beside your bed, still far enough away not to touch you.

“Give me the pencil.” He pointed to the object and you handed it over.

You frowned when Five pulled your notes to him, balanced the pencil in your other hand and redo your calculations at the end of the sheet.

You should have paid attention to what Five was doing, at each step, but the truth was that you got lost looking at him. The winter breeze shook his black strands as if they were a cloth from the night sky, his emerald green eyes were focused, and a slight crease on his forehead indicated that he was concentrating.

Your heart raced, the world seemed to stop breathing and the air took on a caustic and magical intonation. You would show all your shadows if Five showed his, you would do anything to show how sublime he was.

Then Five looked up at you, and the hemisphere seemed to make sense that second. So you leaned over and kissed him. You kissed because there was no cell in you that didn't want to kiss him. Because Five was a young god and you were just a mortal surrendered to his charms.

But you felt his muscles go rigid, the spontaneous physical contact catching him off guard.

Five burned in contradictions. It burned in the hot fire of passion and burned in the icy heat of feelings. Your touch was potent and had an overwhelming effect on Five.

He wondered what would happen if he had sex with you at that moment. Would he burn in your heat or would he be consumed by troubled emotions? Would he feel every part of your body pulse or would he lose himself in the confusion of his own mind?

Five gently parted his lips, still close enough for his breath to hit your lips.

“I feel your tension. Everything is fine.” You commented quietly.

Five just breathed, his eyes confirming to you what his words didn't say.

“I'm sorry for everything you've been through.” You were sincere, and cautiously put your hand under his. “But you have to understand that it’s normal and good to feel emotions. It's okay not to understand them. Feelings are not like math.”

Five felt your touch become more present, and you gently approach. He should have said something, but his body started to contradict his mind and he got lost in a blue shambles. He desperately wanted you. Wanted to fuck you until feel you completely and kiss you until taste love. But he also wanted to get away. He wanted to go away and push all those feelings and emotions under the rug.

But when you sat closer to him, and your hands cupped his face, Five realized he couldn't leave.

“How would you react if I did that..”

Then he noticed your mischievous smile, and before he could say anything, you held him more firmly, and filled any part of his face with kisses that you could reach.

You laughed between Five's kisses and protests. But you only stopped after the twentieth kiss. Five was marked with your lipstick, his eyes closed for you, his face in a warning expression.

“Y/N!” He grunted, wiping his face “Are you crazy?”

But his cheeks were red and you could feel his temperature high from where you were.

You laughed louder, settling on the bed.

“.You say you hate it but your red face is telling me otherwise.” You pointed at his cheeks, waved your index finger between them, signaling.

Five frowned even more, trying to wipe the lipstick marks off his face. But slowly, a little smile was struggling to come to his face.

“You are smiling!”

“You are so childish!” he rolled his eyes, but his voice was soft.

“You love Me!” Then you threw yourself at him again, kissing his face where the marks had been cleaned.

Five grunted, but ended up just resting his hands on your waist, feeling ... relaxing.

When you stopped laughing and looked at him, Five held his gaze. Gently, his right hand went to your face, removing a lock of your hair from your eyes.

“I think you're right.”

His voice was low, like a summer breeze, and yours eyes lit up when you understood the meaning of what he was talking about. But Five didn't give you time to answer, he leaned over and captured your lips in a passionate kiss.

You love him too.

[butgilinsky]

someone will ache for your soul // np

warning; a lot of language i’m sry, argument btw best friends, talks abt a shitty ex bf but there’s nothing explicit

summary; in a world where you acquire tattoos across various parts of your body once you fall in love with someone, you have to hide yours from your best friend. 

word count; 6.7k+

a/n: kind of a soulmate au but not really i guess? i saw this prompt somewhere online and idk where it’s from so the general idea of gaining tattoos from those you fall in love with is not mine but the rest of the fic is. okay thx bye(:

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When you were younger, you loved it. You loved looking down at your ankle and seeing the small butterfly just beside your ankle. You’d had it your whole life, though you still weren’t entirely sure how a tattoo grew up with you, but you accepted it. After all, it’s all that you knew. 

Everybody’s born with a tattoo on their ankle, a small tattoo that has theirselves embedded into it. However, the older you get the more you realize that it’s not the tattoo you’re born with that makes the biggest impact on you, it’s others’. Every time you fall in love with somebody, your skin makes room for their tattoo on it. Your mom’s tattoo, a small star on her left ankle, shined bright from its place on your father’s wrist, somehow separate from the couple tattoos he collected over the years. 

You remember the day you found out about the tattoos, perched in your mom’s lap and listening to her talk to your aunt about it. You remember tracing their tattoos with your small fingers while they told you various stories about their loves and how they grew up collecting tattoos on their skin. You were scared, asked your mom what happened if you never got any more than your single tattoo on your ankle. She told you that you would, that anybody would be lucky to collect your small butterfly somewhere on their body. 

You remember the day you got your second tattoo, the paper plane that sat on the back of your left shoulder that now held the role as a painful reminder of your first love. You loved Cory, but the time for the two of you had come and gone. The paper airplane, though never in your line of sight, was still a painful reminder of the times you shared with the boy and how he broke your heart at the end of it all just before moving to college. 

You had to go through senior year alone, newly broken up with and with your best friend hours away from home. You couldn’t blame Nolan, not when he was out doing the thing he loved so much. Being in Brandon was good for him, it was all that he wanted, and it wasn’t all that far away from Winnipeg anyways. You still drove out to see Nolan’s games, even if it ran up the miles on your car and had you spending late nights driving back home by yourself. You would’ve done anything for Nolan, and it truly showed during your senior year. 

Nolan’s draft day was a rude awakening for you. You jumped up when his name was called, hugging him as tight as you possibly could before hiding your giddy expression behind your hands. You were excited for him, even if he was going all the way out to Philadelphia. You wanted him to be happy, and you could tell within seconds of his name being called that he was going to do just fine in Philly. 

You didn’t notice until you got home and your heart sank into your stomach. Your adrenaline high had worn off, and the reality of everything around you began to sink in. You knew what it was the second you laid your eyes on it, black lines etched into the skin of your sternum. You thought it was an odd placement, though it was hard to miss it when you stepped out of the shower and it stood tall and proud and ready to be found. 

You knew what it was, you’d seen the shape etched into Nolan’s ankle far more times than you could count. It mocked you, the snake coiled up the same way your memory sketched it out in your brain, and now it was imprinted perfectly into your skin. You touched it, rubbed it, tried to wash it off. You had just taken a shower, just washed the day off of you and down the drain and now you were standing in the middle of a hotel bathroom, rubbing at the spot between your breasts mercilessly. This couldn’t be happening, not to you, not when Nolan was about to move thousands of miles away from you. 

But it was happening, because the black line that followed no real pattern never faded, despite the skin around it turning raw from your insistent attempts at washing it off. It was here to stay, no matter what happened in your life down the road. It didn’t matter that you had no heads up, no warning that you were falling head over heels in love with your best friend. 

You knew it wouldn’t wash off, but that didn’t stop you from trying. These tattoos were forever, you knew that. You learned from a ripe, young age about obtaining your love’s tattoo. You learned about it growing up, you talked about it with friends and family, hell this wasn’t even your first tattoo that wasn’t your own. You knew the drill, you knew the routine, but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with. 

You were 18, watching him sign contracts and make agreements of his big move in a few short weeks. You couldn’t believe it, that you were losing him in a time like this. It made dropping him off at the airport all that much harder, cheeks wet and eyes bloodshot as you clung to him for dear life. You knew his parents wanted to say bye, that his sisters were waiting patiently while you cried into his shoulder, but you couldn’t let go.

He didn’t know about the snake on your sternum, nor did you plan on telling him. You couldn’t drop a bomb like that on him just before he moved to a different country, finally living out the dream he’d had ever since you could remember. Nolan wasn’t Nolan without hockey, and you were aware of that. You were painfully aware of that. 

So you didn’t tell him. 

You spent too many nights curled up in your bed, clinging to your pillow to muffle the whimpers and whines that pushed through your lips and out into the air. You tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest at any given moment, and you did everything in your power to keep everything under wraps. You couldn’t tell anyone, no matter how bad it hurt to be in love with your best friend that now lived so far away from you. 

It was hard, hiding it. You had to hide it from your family and friends, and sometimes that was easy. During the cold months you were seemingly off the hook, but when summer rolled around and your friends dragged you out to the lake every chance they got, you were in a bit of trouble. You had to carefully choose what bathing suits you wore and had to make sure nothing slipped or faltered throughout the day. 

You’d made it three years without a slip up. Even on nights when Nolan came home and you were mere inches away from him, you couldn’t find it in you to tell him. Even when he was curled up into your side and holding you against his chest in the most comfortable way, you couldn’t say anything. You couldn’t make a move on him. 

And now you were in Philly, standing in an arena that had you shivering but smiling brightly from the opposite side of the glass. You smiled every time Nolan skated by, even more when he assisted Travis in the first goal of the game and scored one of his own late in the second period. You were buzzing, adrenaline pumping and excitement shining deep in your chest. Watching Nolan do what he loved would never get old, not when the smile he wore was enough to wash away any fear or worry you’ve ever had. 

You remember nights when you couldn’t sleep and Nolan would hold you. You remembered nights when you were crying over the phone to him and he snuck out of his room and into your own. You remembered fights you had and the way he made you walk home one night after one of your bigger ones. 

You were walking out of TIm Horton’s, mere feet away from Nolan’s car before you tumbled into an argument you’d been trying to avoid for a few days now. You were dating Cory at the time, and Nolan couldn’t believe you were telling him that you couldn’t go to his game on Friday night, regardless of the fact that you’d promised him for weeks now that you’d be there. It was hard for you to catch games during the week, but this one was on a Friday night with plenty of time for you to finish the school day and drive over to Brandon. 

But now you were telling him that you couldn’t go, and no matter how sorry you were, Nolan couldn’t forgive you. He said you’d blown him off for Cory more times than he could accept anymore. You had to call your sister, figuring she was the only one that would pick you up and give you a ride home without threatening to leave you in the parking lot in favor of beating Nolan to a pulp. 

None of that mattered though. None of it mattered when you were faced with the boy you’d fallen in love with doing the thing he cherished most. When he left the locker room with a smile brighter than any of his teammates had seen in a long time that was directed straight at you, you knew none of it mattered. 

Your feet left the ground, hanging in the air while your best friend clung to your frame tightly. He thanked you for coming, told you that he scored the goal just for you, that he scored every goal for you. You figured it was the adrenaline talking, that he was just basking in the big win against their biggest rivals. That plus the fact that Nolan could barely come to terms with the fact that you were here all for him. 

You’d been in Philly before, had visited Nolan a few times over his years with the Flyers. You’d met practically everyone there was to meet and had gotten fairly close with his closest friends by default, seeing as they were always around when you were. Everything was going well this time around, everyone was having fun and getting along and it almost seemed like nothing could fall out of place. 

You were standing in the kitchen with Nolan and Travis when Nolan’s name was called, beckoning him out into the rest of the house while you and Travis rallied drinks for the group. He tried to ignore them, tried to help you pile up on wine and beers for the rest of the group but Travis practically kicked him out of the kitchen. Travis said he could help you, that the two of you didn’t need Nolan’s help and that someone else clearly did. 

It took all of five minutes for Travis to spill red wine all over your shirt. Thankfully for him, the few glasses you’d thrown back throughout the night washed over any sense of anger or annoyance you’d usually pick up and you simply laughed it off. He felt so bad, begged you to forgive him and let you buy him a new shirt, but all you did was insist that he find you a new one for now and that you could figure out the rest of it when the two of you weren’t tipsy and surrounded by your friends. 

Travis ducked out of the kitchen for a second before turning back up and leading you into a hallway on the other end of the house. He told you that Claude never really let them wander his house without a little supervision, claiming that they break everything that they touch, but this was a special case. Claude loved you, and he wasn’t going to let you walk around with a wine stained shirt for the rest of the night, especially when it’s Travis’s fault in the first place. 

You laid back on the bed in the room you were unfamiliar with, smiling up at the ceiling and humming to yourself while Travis dug through Claude’s closet. 

“I know Ryanne has a stack of those shirts somewhere.” he spoke gently to himself, refraining from throwing clothes all over the room and instead digging for one through multiple piles. You laughed to yourself, not even sure if he knew that you could hear him. 

“Just pick one, Teeks!” he huffed and chucked one at you, laughing loudly when it landed directly on your face. 

You whined and sat up, reaching for the hem of your shirt without much thought surrounding the subject before peeling it off. All you could think about was how sticky your stomach had gotten from the red spot. 

It was the small gasp that got you, the one that brought you back down to Earth and tore you out of your wine-induced haze. It was Travis’s eyes locked in on the spot in the middle of your chest that triggered every panic siren in between your ears. 

“Is that-”

“TK you can’t tell him.” you rushed out, pushing yourself to stand up as you pressed a bright orange Flyers shirt against your chest. Your hands were shaking, and Travis’s eyes were glued to the spot of the tattoo even without being able to see it anymore. He knew what that snake was, he knew it all too well. He’d known Nolan for a long time now, and he’d seen the snake enough times to commit it to memory. 

He was sure you had Nolan’s snake in the middle of your chest, and now Travis knew you were in love with Nolan. 

“Trav, I’m serious.” he shook his head, trying to clear himself of the intrusive thoughts and nodded gently. He couldn’t tell Nolan. He wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to keep that from him, especially when he had been looking for your tattoo on Nolan’s skin for years now. 

Travis wasn’t dense. He saw the way that Nolan looked at you, heard the tone he used when he talked about you. He saw how excited Nolan got when he knew you were about to fly into Philly, and he saw how upset Nolan got when you left. He might not have been the brightest bulb in the box, but he knew that there was something lying under the surface of you and Nolan’s friendship. 

He tried to have this conversation before, had tried more times than he could count at this point. The only difference now was that there was hard proof, there was evidence that he was right all along. But now he couldn’t use that evidence, not when you were looking at him with wide eyes and begging him to keep it between the two of you. 

“Fine, but we’re talking about this before you go back home.” you nodded, figuring that it was good enough for you if it meant he never told Nolan about it. 

Except, there was one small problem.

The door swung open, dark and narrowed eyes landing on you and Travis, less than a foot between the two of you with you topless, a single shirt held between your hands and in front of your chest. 

“My best friend?” the disappointment in his voice tugged at your heart and punched you in the gut simultaneously. The guilt hanging in your chest was barely justified, given this was one large misunderstanding, but the look on Nolan’s face was enough to have your shoulders falling. 

“Nolan, it’s not-”

“My best fucking friend? Of all people you had to choose him?” his eyes were wide and glued to yours, anger mixing with disgust in the back of his mind. He couldn’t believe you’d do this to him. 

“Pat, you don’t understand-” 

“Fuck you.” Nolan spoke slowly and clearly, shooting Travis the sharpest glare he could produce. His voice sent a chill down your spine, unsure if you had ever heard him speak with such malice. “Both of you.” 

Nolan spun on the balls of his feet and left the room, but you didn’t let him get far before you were following him. You tugged the shirt over your head, not even bothering to turn back to Travis to apologize before you were running after Nolan, calling his name down the hallway. 

“Nolan, please-”

“I don’t want to hear it, honestly.” he threw over his shoulder, but you weren’t accepting that. You weren’t going to let him walk away right now, not when you didn’t do anything wrong. 

“Just listen to me!” you stopped walking, stopped running. You stood in the middle of a hallway that had pictures lining the walls around you. Smiling faces and cheery laughs suffocated you in a time where you stood toe to toe with your best friend, the same one who was looking down at you like he’d never known you. “You don’t get to assume things and just walk away!”

“Yeah, well you don’t get to come out here after not seeing me for six months and sleep with my best friend! You don’t get to do that to me! You don’t get to use me to sleep with professional athletes.” any words you had swimming through your mind halted at his accusation. They fizzled out, unable to produce a coherent thought after you heard your best friend accuse you of using him. 

“After all this time, you think i’m using you? You think that I came here to sleep with Travis?” 

“You want to know what I think? I think you’ve always used me. You used me to escape your awful boyfriend in high school and you used me to leave home when things got bad. You used me to get over your shitty boyfriend when he left you in the fucking dust and here you are now, using me to sleep with my best fucking friend.” you were in shock, lips parted and throat constricting as you tried to let his words sit. 

“If you wanted to whore yourself out to NHL players, you should’ve just said so, puck bunny.” The nickname weighed heavily in your chest, bringing you back to a time where Nolan went on and on about how much puck bunnies got under his skin. It brought you back to a time when Nolan would never call you that, would never even put you and the name in the same conversation.

“Patty!” Nolan’s eyes left yours, casting over your shoulder and locking with another pair that he might have been more furious at. Sure, he was angry at you. He couldn’t believe you’d do something like this, not after growing up with him just a few houses down. He couldn’t believe you’d stoop this low, but Travis? Travis knew how Nolan felt about you. Even if he didn’t admit it, even if he’d never say that was all true, Travis knew. He knew better than anyone how Nolan felt, and that made it all the more worse. 

“Don’t talk to her like that.” you bit down on your bottom lip, hard enough to sting slightly but you couldn’t look away from where your eye level left you. You couldn’t look up at Nolan, not when he was this angry at you, and you surely couldn’t look at Travis. You knew that’d only make things worse. 

“Now you get to tell me how to talk to her? Does that mean the two of you are a thing now? That’s funny, seeing as you have a girlfriend, Teeks. Didn’t know you were into home wrecking, y/n.”

“Fuck you.” you spoke softly, not even sure if he had heard you before he looked down at you with a puzzled look stretched across his face. 

“So I can pick up TK’s sloppy seconds? No thanks, angel.” you shoved him then, shoved him hard. He didn’t move much due to the way his feet dug into the ground and he had muscle on you, but you got your point across by the force delivered to his chest. 

“You’re a dick, you know that? You walk into a room and think you know everything that’s going on, but you don’t, okay? You don’t know what happens when you’re gone. You don’t know what happened in there or what happens at home when you’re here. You don’t know anything, okay?” 

“That’s bold, given that I just walked in on you topless, seconds away from kissing my best friend, y/n-”

“Is there a reason you feel the need to keep reminding me that Travis is your best friend?”

“Because I need you to know that you’re not.” 

The world titled on its axis then, the rude awakening you’d walked into becoming all too much for you to handle. With the realization that Nolan wanted nothing to do with you, you nodded once and walked around him so you could leave. It was only then that you noticed the audience you’d gathered, the better half of the Flyers roster circled around the room with a few of their significant others. You flashed everyone a pained smile and thanked Claude and Ryanne for inviting you before leaving the house. 

You weren’t even down the driveway when your lungs gave way, gasping for air while tears streamed down your cheeks. Your heart hurt and your stomach turned, and you knew it was going to be a long night. 

“You really are a dick.” Travis was going to walk past him, was going to avoid the lot of people and follow you outside. He knew you didn’t know where you were, nor did you have a way to get to or from anywhere else. You could order an uber to Nolan’s, but then what? Kevin might let you into the apartment but where would you stay? On the couch in a living room you weren’t welcome in? Not likely. 

“I’m the dick? You know how I feel about her!”

“Nothing happened!”

“Bullshit, TK! I know that look on your face and I know that she sure as hell looked embarrassed-”

“I spilt wine on her shirt, you fucking idiot! I knocked into her when we were in the kitchen and I made her entire glass of wine spill down the front of her shirt, so I went to get her another one. I didn’t want her to sit in a soaking wet, stained shirt for the rest of the night so I went to get her another.” 

“And she changed in front of you because-?”

“Because she was drunk and knew I wouldn’t make a move on her. Because she knows that I respect you and care about you far more than I care about making a move on her. I don’t look at her that way, Pat. You know I would never do that to you.” Nolan sucked on his teeth then, casting his eyes away from Travis’s and looking down at his feet. 

“Do I?” Travis scoffed then, not bothering to give Nolan a response before walking past everybody else and out to his car. 

After a few minutes of driving around, he found you at the park just down the street, leaning against the chain that supported the swing you sat on. He couldn’t see your tears from his car, but he could see the way you flinched when he shut the car door behind him. 

“You okay?” you shook your head, eyes filled to the brim with tears that blurred your vision and broke Travis’s heart. 

“I’m in love with him, Teeks. I love him more than anything in this entire world and he thinks I’m using him. He t-thinks- he thinks I-” 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Travis pulled you onto your feet and into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you in order to attempt to calm you down. 

“He thinks-” your sobs rang through the air, piercing through Travis’s heart and resulting in him squeezing you tighter, letting you get all of it out while no one else was around. 

“He doesn’t think that. He knows you’re not using him, he just can’t bear to think about you with anybody other than him.” you shook your head, not allowing yourself to believe Travis, even though he knew Nolan pretty well. If there was anything to know about Nolan, you or Travis would know about it. 

“He loves you, okay? He loves you more than he knows how to handle and he can’t handle losing you before he’s even had you.” you flinched when a car backfired, jumping inches off of the ground and making Travis laugh gently from beside you when you let out a shaky breath of relief. 

Your eyes found the familiar car drive by, slowing down the slightest bit by the park only to take off towards the entrance of the neighborhood quite quickly. You knew it was Nolan, you knew that car by heart. 

You ended up on Travis’s couch the night, wrapped in a warm pair of sweatpants that Travis threw in the dryer for you before giving them to you. You tied the drawstring in a tight knot so they’d stay up and pulled on a hoodie that he offered to you shortly after. He listened to you reminisce on all of the memories you had with Nolan. He learned more about his best friend and who he was growing up, but also learned a fair amount about you as well. 

He felt for you. He couldn’t believe Nolan said all of those things to you, but he also knew that Nolan must not be doing well right now. He texted Kevin when he got back to his apartment, saying that you were safe with him, and that he’d text Nolan but didn’t for obvious reasons. Kevin assured Travis he’d let Nolan know you were safe, despite Nolan not asking about your well being. Not that he hadn’t thought about it, but he figured if he asked he’d be left with a less than likable answer. 

Nolan didn’t sleep well that night, replaying how bad he fucked up over and over again in his mind. He didn’t believe you at first, didn’t even believe Travis when he told him what truly happened. He did, however, believe his captain when he said that Travis asked him for a shirt for you just a few minutes before it all happened. Ryanne brought out your wine soaked shirt after the two of you had left, and despite Nolan coming to terms with the fact that he was wrong, he couldn’t forgive himself for the things he said to you. 

He couldn’t believe he accused you of it all before going on to accuse you of using him for your benefit. He knew it was stupid, since you’d been around far before the NHL. you were there when he got drafted, you were there when he was named captain of the Wheat Kings, and you were there when he almost quit hockey when he was younger. He remembered having you by his side through everything growing up and even now, even while living so far away from each other. If he called, you answered. If he needed help, you helped him. Hockey had nothing to do with that. 

He looked down at the butterfly on his thigh, the one that took residence right beside another one of his tattoos, one that he had to keep hidden from you for well over two years now. He traced his finger over the small image, let his mind wander over all the possibilities of where yours could be if you had a snake somewhere inked into your skin. It’s a thought he often had, wondering where you’d want it, if you’d want it. 

By the time Nolan came to his senses, it was too late. He’d already gotten through an entire practice and by the time he got back, by the time he got home, he realized you were gone. Your things that were piled into a corner of his room were gone. The jersey he’d given you for the game against the pens was folded up nicely on the pillow of his bed and a sticky note with your unmistakeable handwriting on it left a hole in his chest. 

I’m sorry I ever made you doubt me. 

He couldn’t reach for his phone fast enough, couldn’t call you enough times to break your voicemail box. He called Travis, pained to hear that you were already on a flight back to Winnipeg. He wanted to leave, wanted to drive to the airport right this second and catch a flight back home to tell you he’s incredibly sorry, but he couldn’t. He had a roadie in a few days and a game tomorrow night and he couldn’t just leave. 

He did his best to contact you, tried to call every person in your family and was disappointed every time. Even when both of his sisters sat down and called him to collectively tell him that he was the biggest idiot either of them had ever met. Nobody could believe Nolan blew you off like that, not even Nolan himself. 

He knew he fucked up, but he hadn’t realized how bad he fucked things up until one of your friends from back home posted a picture of you on social media a few months later. It had been at least four months since he’d spoken to you, since he saw you. It had been too long of him having nothing but the sliver of content he got from social media. He hated that his friends had chosen your side in the thick of it all, though he guessed it was easier to do that with him in Philadelphia and the rest of you in the same place. 

But it wasn’t until a picture of you with a wide smile and a new bathing suit popped up on his phone that he knew the true weight of the situation in front of him. There you were, in a baby blue bathing suit that showed the same shape between your breasts that he’d grown up with beside his ankle. His tattoo was committed to memory, ingrained into his brain with no room to forget about it, especially when he saw it on you, etched into your skin the same way it had been etched into his. 

He thought back to the paper airplane on your shoulder, the mark that had haunted him for years. He hated your boyfriend, hated the sight of his tattoo on your skin. He hated everything that had to do with the sheer thought of you with somebody else, even if he didn’t know how to deal with that. And now, with his thumb sitting on the butterfly on his thigh and his eyes on the snake on your sternum, he knew he had to fix this. He knew he had to fix things because these tattoos, though permanent themselves, didn’t guarantee him a life as your boyfriend, nor your husband. 

Nolan remembered a time when he thought these tattoos were stupid. He remembered when he thought it was a thing for soulmates and you told him that thought was wrong, that it just reminded you of a love you felt, even if it was eventually lost. He remembers you telling him that you were scared you’d never be loved forever, that you were scared to only be loved momentarily. 

But that wasn’t the case. Nolan would never stop loving you. He couldn’t forget about the way your laugh brightened his day without question, or the way your nose scrunched when you laughed. He couldn’t forget about the way you bugged him for ice cream on a bad day, or how good you looked with his name and number stretched across your back. 

He couldn’t remember a day he wasn’t in love with you. 

So Nolan flew to Winnipeg the second the Flyers’ season was over. He didn’t bask in getting knocked out of the playoffs like some of the other guys, didn’t dwell on the loss in the sixth game of the series because he couldn’t. He couldn’t dwell on a loss when he was so focused on trying to prevent a second one. 

He had called everybody he could think of once he got off the plane. Some didn’t answer, some didn’t know the answer to his question, and some just flat out refused to humor him. You weren’t home, he knew that much by the absence of your car in the driveway and your sister telling him that you weren’t there, and that she wouldn’t let him inside even if you were. It wasn’t until he rounded a familiar corner after a phone call he’d been thankful for. 

Jordan told him where you were, unable to lie to his childhood friend when you were hanging out with everyone. You were wearing a bathing suit again, though it didn’t matter for a while. The sun was high in the air and you weren’t the only that had shed yourself of your coverup earlier in the afternoon. You were playing basketball with Jordan, oblivious to the fact that he’d given you up just ten minutes prior to the gate door swinging open and Nolan letting himself into the backyard. 

Your eyes found him easily, as if he was a magnet you could never repel. Your shoulders fell for a moment, your instinct of wanting to comfort him seeping in before you could tell it not to. Of course you kept up with his team, watching every game you possibly could until the very last one. You knew he’d been knocked out of the playoff less than 48 hours ago, and you had no idea he was coming home. 

You hadn’t realized the weight of the situation until you noticed his eyes locked in on your chest. You folded your arms over your chest in an attempt to cover the snake, but it didn’t make Nolan look anywhere else. 

“Who told you I was here?” your voice was soft. You knew he didn’t drive around the entire town looking for your car, though you weren’t sure it was something too far out of his reach. Nolan would do just about anything to get something if he wanted it bad enough.

“Bo did.” you glared at the boy not far from you, the one that you shouldn’t have trusted with something like this in the first place. You should’ve known Jordan would do something like this. 

“Patty, what the fuck?”

“Just shut up, Bo.” Jordan rolled his eyes and tossed the basketball to Nolan who smacked it away and into the grass. 

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you.” you tried to stand your ground, even with Jordan giggling to himself before walking over to your friends not too far from where you currently stood. 

“Just give me five minutes.”

Nolan’s eyes bore into yours, the same pair of bright blue eyes that you had been avoiding for months. You wanted to answer every call and every text, but how could you? How could you pick up the phone and listen to his voice through the speaker after all he’d said to you in front of his entire team. And then on top of it all, he left you stranded in Philly, in the middle of a city, country even, where you had nobody to turn to and nowhere to go. 

“I know you don’t want to talk to me-”

“Then leave, Nols.” he shook his head, taking a step towards you. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I know I hurt you-”

“You’re right! You hurt me! You hurt me so bad Nolan and I can’t go through that again so if you’re here to let history repeat itself, then can you just go?” he shook his head, firmly planting his feet into the ground and refusing to move. 

“I know you don’t want to see me or listen to me or give me the benefit of the doubt but I need you to hear me out.” you sighed, letting your arms fall to your side. You weren’t sure how he seemingly broke down all of your walls without even lifting a finger. You watched his eyes flick down to the image on your chest, you even let him raise a finger once he stood in front of you and trace the shape of the snake. “It suits you, y’know?”

“Did you really come all this way to tell me that this suits me?” there was a hint of amusement in your voice, enough of it to bring a smile to Nolan’s lips. 

“I know I fucked up-”

“Big time.” you cut him off, shooting him a gentle smile and nod that told you you’d stop interrupting him. “Sorry, continue.”

“I know I fucked up and I said a lot of shit I didn’t mean and that’s not an excuse but- look, I know i shouldn’t have said all of that shit. I should’ve believed the two of you. I should’ve believed you when you told me nothing happened and I shouldn’t have said you were using me. I know you’re not using me. There was no way you could’ve known that I was going to be in the NHL, and you wouldn’t have stuck around all this time just to be a puck bunny.” 

It wasn’t like you to forgive all that easily. You drew lines in the sand and refused to let someone fuck you over twice. You weren’t big on second chances, especially when you thought people didn’t deserve them. You were a straight shooter, no bullshit. But those walls cracked for Nolan, they fell for Nolan. None of your boundaries were drawn in place with Nolan in mind. He had broken down every wall, overstepped every boundary since the day he met you. You couldn’t block him out, couldn’t lead him out of your life. 

As much as you hated to admit it, you needed Nolan Patrick. You were in love with Nolan Patrick. 

And the little butterfly on his thigh told you that he loved you all the same. 

Your lips turned up at the sight, your eyes locked in on the place where his shorts had ridden up and the small image danced happily on his skin. 

“How long have you had that?” you pointed down at it, barely noticing the way his eyes stayed trained on you through the entirety of the situation. You were looking at his tattoo, but he was looking at you. He was always looking at you, which only made it that much more surprising that he hadn’t picked up on the snake on your chest. 

“Since before I got drafted.” he spoke softly, hitting you with a force you didn’t know existed. You were floored by the realization, somewhat thinking that he’d only had it for a small bit of time. You’d seen his thighs, seen his tattoos and you’d never seen the small butterfly etched into his skin. 

“How long have you had that?” his finger traced over the snake one more time, sending a chill down your spine that you had felt more times than you could count when you were around Nolan. It was a feeling that was never expected but always welcome. 

“Draft day.” you breathed out, feeling the weight of the world lift off of your shoulders. You were finally admitting it, finally letting the love of your life know just how long you’ve been a mess for him. Little did you know how much of a mess he was for you. 

“I’m so sorry, y/n.” 

“It’s okay.” you spoke softly, a smile gracing your lips at the realization that things were falling back into place, even after all this time of not talking to him. 

“It’s okay?” you nodded, taking another step toward him so you were chest to chest. 

“As long as you don’t fuck it up again.” he let out a small laugh, his hands finding the sides of your face just before pressing his lips to yours. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

-

italics mean it wouldn’t let me tag you!!

nolpat tag list; @extratragic​ @babytkachuks​ @teenagekook​ @stfukie​ @kiedhara​ @sadcupofcoffee​ @sidscrosbyy​ @rebel-without-care @baby-cat-nol-pat​ @creator-appreciator​ 

tagging the himbos as well; @bricksatlandyswindow​ @damndunner​ @anxietyandtacos​ @sortagaysortahigh​ @dmonchld​

[a-dorin]

crush

pairing: college au! maul x female!reader

word count: 2.411k

warnings: smutttttt, teasing, cursing, mentions of death threats, endless teasing, some filthy talk, nsfw, pet names

a/n: hi so this is my first time writing over 1k in months. please be gentle with me, as i'm really proud of this & i can never get enough of college aus. feedback is very much appreciated. request was anon, but i hope you enjoy <3

prompt: "Hi yes if this managed to make it in time for request, can I please request a Maul x Fem reader smut,,, like anything I’m a desperate hoe ahdhdbsbsbzb"

“so,” there’s the crisp crinkle of a page turning, “why’d you choose university of coruscant?”

“the atmosphere.”

“come on,” he scoffs, “are you a tour guide now? what major are you anyways? isn’t it something really nerdy? something along the lines of biochemistry? a minor in genetics or some bullshit like that?”

“i think you’re thinking of some other girl you’ve fucked because that is nowhere along the lines of what i’m studying. you weren’t even in the right college. some partner you are.”

sitting right across from you, was the star recruit of the university of coruscant. a lacrosse player who transferred from mustafar central. he was the reason why the team was expected to qualify for nationals. why they were supposed to even make it to the championship.

over the summer, it was almost as if the entire campus was buzzing about it. after all, it wasn’t often that the university was able to snag such good athletes. well, it was a division one school so of course it was a given that everyone was pretty good in their respective sport.

however, the zabrak sitting right across from you was utterly exceptional.

in almost every way.

all everyone raved about was his looks. which, you had to admit, the zabrak was gorgeous. with rich crimson skin, complemented by inky tattoos, sharp cheekbones, a dashing smile, and eyes that were pools of pure honey, it was difficult to deny the fact that he was attractive.

however, it was not hard to accept the other truth, either. he was quite acquainted with a majority of the women on campus, matching with almost every single one on tinder. that was if you were a part of a sorority or part of a sports team, of course.

what made matters worse was his intelligence. so, when you were paired with him for a project in your astronomy class, you learned fairly quickly that the zabrak was quite the smartass. and not a nice one, either. he seemed to enjoy harassing and berating you with his jokes and punchlines during every encounter.

he was everything you despised in a man. cocky, stubborn, and careless.

so why were you so attracted to him? you had absolutely no idea.

there’s a beat of silence, and the only noise the zabrak emits is a quiet exhale. the sound of his breath as it whistled through his teeth. yet, it’s followed by a quiet huff.

“you wish you could fuck me. you’ve mentioned it before, to that nautolan friend of yours, hmm? kit, right? he’s on the lacrosse team. your name may have come up a few times.”

heat flourishes through your cheeks as you glance upwards, any last remnants of focus completely crumbling away. your breath hitches in your throat at the smug smirk plastered on his lips, incisors poking against his lower lip.

golden eyes scour you, almost analyzing the sheer and utter shock plaguing your features. satisfaction glints within the depths, and you blink, scrambling to formulate some sort of response.

leaning forward, the zabrak tilts his head, so close that the tip of his nose grazed yours. this time, the words are a low rumble, harsh and gravelly.

almost like a growl.

“you told your little friend kit that you wished that i would just take you right here, in the library, and fuck you senseless. i find that interesting though, because you’ve been feeding me this little premonition that you absolutely loathe every aspect of my existence. now, do you actually want that little wish of yours to come true, or are you going to keep putting up the act and we act like this never happened?”

shrinking in your seat, you could almost feel the eyes searing into the both of you. there’s arched brows and low murmurs, a few giggles ringing through the space. swallowing thickly, you pull the collar of your hoodie over the lower half of your face, in a vain attempt to conceal your obvious embarrassment.

of course your fellow peers were staring. in the corner of your eye, you witness a group of girls roll their eyes. from the decals on their laptops, along with the other memorabilia, you pick out they’re chi omega girls, a popular sorority on campus.

you squeeze your eyes shut as you hear them whispering amongst each other. there’s a few points, and you were dead sure the dusty rose twi’lek in the black nike hoodie wanted to end your life right there.

maker, were you so flustered.

and he had you right where he wanted you.

“m-maul,” you stutter, fidgeting in your seat, “pe-people are s-staring.”

“do i look like i give a fuck?”

“i’m pretty sure the chi omega girls over there are going to send me death threats once they find my instagram,” you grumble, burying your head in your hands, “it’s your fault they’re all looking, you know.”

“hey!” the taunting tone in his voice sent your eyes wide open, strands of curses flowing from your tongue as he called over to the group, “i know we may have matched on tinder, but i’m not yours. i’m not territory to lay a claim on. i’m my own zabrak, you know. i can talk to other girls.”

letting out an exasperated sigh, you bury your head into your arms, laying your head on the table.

getting any work done with him was a lost cause.

“you okay? you gonna make it?”

for a moment, you melt under the tenderness in his tone, the way the words just sounded so gentle. he lays a hand on your shoulder, and you look up, the heat in your cheeks lingering as your eyes lock with his.

“we could get out of here, you know,” maul murmurs, “i live in an apartment with a few other guys on the lacrosse team. they’re all out, though. we could get some peace and quiet. and i could get you away from those chi clowns. i think they already found your twitter. i don’t like the way they’re looking at you either.”

i don’t like the way they’re looking at you either.

“um, sure. i don’t have anything else tonight. at least, i don’t think. i cleared my schedule so we could get this project done.”

“don’t worry about packing up your stuff. act like you’re on the phone or something and i’ll grab your things. i made this mess so i’ll clean it up,” it takes a moment to register the suggestion, but you knew it wasn’t a suggestion.

he wasn’t going to budge.

clearing your throat, you press your phone to your ear, “hello? oh hey! no, you didn’t catch me at a bad time. i just need to leave the room really quick.”

carefully, you weave your way through the maze of chairs and tables, pushing open the door. moments later, you’re outside, inhaling the brisk january air, grateful for the coolness as it seeps into your skin.

“you okay?”

you nod, probably a little too quickly, “yes.”

maul’s brow furrows, yet he doesn’t press any further, adjusting your book bag, “don’t worry about carrying this. i got it. i feel bad.”

“don’t feel bad i mean, you were just teasing--”

“i do,” he cuts in, “i feel bad because i know how you much you dislike unwanted attention. you always get so flustered when the professor calls on you with no warning. you either stutter just a little bit or you pull the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands. i was a little bit of an asshole back there, and i apologize for that. i took care of everything with those chi omega girls too.”

in the darkness, you nearly trip over the sidewalk, “you.. you notice that?”

“i sit right by you and have been for the past two weeks,” he snorts, “i pick up on a thing or two. take a left here.”

all around you, the lights of campus glow softly, illuminating the surroundings with a warm golden glow. the night sky is clear, a few stars glittering over the light pollution of the city. you follow the zabrak, unsure of what to say.

“were.. were you serious about what you said earlier? did kit really say something?”

your knees buckle at the sound of his laughter. how it was so sweet and melodic as it rang out into the night.

“he did say something,” the zabrak raises a hand, pointing to a complex just a few hundred feet ahead of you, “i’m right here. you still up for the offer? i mean, we still have a week and a half but i don’t want to waste your time. you have a lot going on with your classes already. how’s chemistry going?”

“how do you know about chemistry?” you arch a brow, a shudder coursing through you as the breeze rolls through the campus.

“you bitch about it all the time on your instagram story?” the zabrak holds his id next to the door, pulling it open, “regardless of what you may think, i do pay attention to you sweetheart.”

“and what’s that supposed to mean?” your tone shifts, “i’m not sure what you’re referring to, maul.”

“well,” a hand finds its way to the small of your back, just above the curve of your ass, pushing you gently. realizing that you have to go up the stairs, you begin to trudge upwards, his hand still lingering.

“you have this belief that you’re unattractive because you don’t possess conventional beauty set by the standards of social media and society. i know this because you’ve talked about it on your twitter and your instagram. also, your comment about ‘some other girl i fucked’ really took me aback because i don’t just sleep with anyone. you know that, right? i have standards. and i have goals too, outside from ‘how many bodies i have.’ you also said that to kit, which made me upset. is that what you really think of me?”

in that instant, it was almost as if your heart dropped. you stop at the top of the flight, the clammy sensation coating your hands only growing. wiping your hands on your leggings, you dodge his gaze, clamping your mouth shut.

gods, were you in deep shit now.

fingers grasp your chin, forcing your head to the right. maul takes a step forward, pushing your back against the wall. the concrete sends goosebumps lining your arms, hairs standing on end.

“i asked you a question,” your heart thuds as he leans forward, “is that what you really think of me sweetheart?”

“i-i--” you stammer, heat flourishing to your neck, “t-that’s not i think of you. i was just frustrated because i didn’t know how to process the feelings i had and i’m sorry.”

“feelings?” maul’s lips were practically brushing against yours. and gods, were they so tantalizingly soft, “what kind of feelings?”

“i may have a crush on you.”

“a crush? what is this, fifth grade?” the tease was edged with somewhat you couldn’t quite place your finger on. what was it? lust? want? hunger?

“a crush,” you affirm, “i have a crush on you, maul.”

“you wanna know what i told those chi omega girls?” he inquires, one hand on the wall, the other reaching for your face, cupping your cheek.

“what did you tell those girls?” fuck. were you in deeper shit now.

“i told them we were talking. that you were my girl,” your lashes flutter at his touch, “and you know wanna know what else i told them?”

“what else did you say?” puckering you lips, you take his thumb into your mouth, sucking lightly.

the sound that you hear is nothing like you’ve encountered before.

“i-i,” you feel your lips curve into a smirk as he grits his teeth, “i told them that i was going to fuck you after this. that i was going to completely destroy you.”

“you didn’t---”

his mouth connects with yours for an open-mouthed kiss. it’s electrifying yet blissful, something that would sweep you off your feet yet keep you grounded, keeping you wanting more and more. gods, was it such a craving. to stay in this stairwell, to cherish this moment.

it’s gratifying, enough to make you light-headed with giddiness.

it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

yet, he pulls away, panting ever so slightly.

“fuck.”

“fuck?”

his jaw clenches, “you have no fucking idea how much i’ve been wanting to do that. ever since i met you. fuck, i need more. i need more of you. ‘taste so good.”

“we could always--”

“finish this in my apartment? yeah, i want to. but i don’t want to force anything on you and i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. i’ve just -- i’ve just been having dreams about you.”

“dreams?” you watch as the zabrak’s eyes squeeze shut, his body shifting away from yours. he’s heading towards the door now, nearly throwing it open.

“dreams about being inside of you. fuck. i need to know how you feel. if you’re as tight as i imagined. and fuck, i need to feel how wet you are too. how wet you get for me. have you ever tasted yourself before?”

you shake your head, “i haven’t.”

maul practically stalks down the hallway, finding his door. sliding the key into the lock, he steps inside, placing your bags on the floor, “would you rather study or would you rather let me express how i feel?”

thumbs loop through the pocket of your hoodie, pulling you close to him. fuck, you could feel him against your body. the stiffness of his cock underneath his sweats. how hot and bothered he was for you, practically aching for some sort of release.

“what do you mean ‘express how you feel’?” carefully, you dip a hand into the waistband, hand wrapping around the outline, squeezing gently.

“oh fuck,” maul throws his head back, moaning ever so slightly, “i-i may have a crush on you too. and i wanted to express how i felt. i-i’m not good with words.”

“why don’t you show me then?” your clit throbs as you feel along his shaft, fingers grazing over the ridges, thumb pressing against his tip.

“bend over the fucking counter then and i’ll fucking show you then, princess. you better not utter a single fucking word about this fucking project because it’s my turn to study you.”

☆☆☆☆☆

taggin' some maul moots: @maulieber @maulfrk @hounding-around @maximumninjavoid @xcertaindarkthingsx @zabrak-show @anakinswhore @arsonistvoyager @bonesaldente @catsnkooks@darthmaulslut