#without warning. all the time. the quality of the sound was horrible so it was hard to understand her. on top of that she had a very thick

[autisticlee]

sometimes I think about how when I went to college for a year before I dropped out (basically failed out,) the counselors/dean told me they can't help me at all or give any accommodations unless I have an official autism/adhd diagnosis. that might sound logical at first, but when you think about it more, it's actually quite fucked up. if someone is struggling really bad, what's the harm in helping them? why do they require a paper to get even the smallest amount of help? people who don't need help aren't going to be failing miserably without help! even NTs could benefit from some adjustments to the horrible school system! (but changing the entire system is a whole other conversation that the school system isnt ready for)

but even if you do agree to jump through their hoops, you realize it's even more fucked up that the diagnosis process requires YEARS in most cases (in my case it took 4 or 5 years, can't recall exactly now, for autism/adhd diagnosis, which would have meant i finished school before getting it if i managed to mot fail out, or i wait that long before going back, which is a whole struggle itself) and they also tried billing me for THOUSANDS of dollars because of insurance issues!!

so you put a ton of time and money into this, and then get told the only accommodation they are willing to give you for autism and adhd is "a little extra time on tests"

....

my test scores were the best part of my whole class experience. that was NOT what I struggled with!!!!! those tests were all online and could be done in the comfort of your home where you can accommodate yourself and have plenty of time left over when you finish them because you are comfy in your own space, (and also, no one was stopping you from having your notes/books/google open to find the answers,) and you don't even need a time consuming, expensive diagnosis for that!

SO WHAT'S THE POINT!!!!!!!

[okchijt]

Can you do romantic yandere Adam x reader hazbin hotel alphabet? :)))

Author's Note: YES, I ABSOLUTELY CAN!!! Sorry not sorry but he's my fav so this request single-handedly cured my writer's block lmao. The amount of love I have for this sexist narcissistic man is unreal, which I know sounds bad... BUT I DON'T CARE HE'S THE BEST! And lastly, go ahead and check out my masterlist if you like what you just read and if you want to request anything yourself, thank you, and enjoy!🩷

Possible Trigger Warnings: Some minimal NSFW that is only mostly mentioned a few times with no explicit detail.

Adam -> Yandere Alphabet

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

You're the only person he's affectionate with and genuinely so. It's not just about sex or a quick fling with you like some other angels/winners he was seeing before you. He holds a much deeper type of feeling for you, something he didn't even have with Lilith or Eve, and unlike with them, Adam isn't planning on letting you go no matter what, even if you're willing in the relationship or not. For that reason alone, I feel like he'd be pretty intense with it: heated make-out sessions, ''inappropriate'' grabbing, be that your ass or thighs, and just possessive holding on the waist or around the shoulder in general. He puts on this act in public so the others won't catch on to how low he has fallen with the way he feels about you, he doesn't want his ''cool guy'' image to be tarnished just because he's soft for you. But in private he's more gentle, considerate, and even pathetic with how he treats you, always asking for permission or where you would like to be touched.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Not at all. You're obviously up in Heaven with him and it's not like Adam has any interest in making Heaven his personal blood bath, so he's pretty chill. If you were an Exterminator like him though, he would get pretty messy, wanting to impress you with how gruesomely and fast he finishes the enemy. He wants to show just how powerful he is and that he's the only one you should depend on. But if you're just a regular angel or winner, then you obviously don't know anything about his "work-life", so like I said at the beginning, he's pretty chill...mostly

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Only if you'd tick him off, by which I mean disobeying him or acting out. He'd be like: "Oh, boohoo, stop your fucking whining and get over it! You're fucking mine now, bitch!" Or anything along those lines. He'd basically refer to you like you're inferior to him and say that you should be grateful that the Adam graces you with his time and presence. Which is funny because no matter how much Adam likes to pretend you're below him, he secretly worships you and thinks you're his God. So even though Adam has his occasional slip-up of being way too aggressive and mean to you than he intends to be, he always tries to make it up to you later in some way. Even though he won't admit to it, he always feels guilty for treating you horribly, so don't be surprised when you hear a very half-assed apology from him or a present of some kind to indicate he is sorry, because he genuinely does feel guilty even if his words or actions don't portray that in the best of ways.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Yes, that being quality time together and affection. If you're well-behaved, you'd be allowed to walk around Heaven "freely" with him. But only on the condition that all of your time and attention is on him, you're not allowed to go anywhere alone without him. You wanna go bawling? Eat somewhere? Just hang out outside? That's fine, as long Adam is right next to you. So basically no privacy. Adam does not hold back on affection, whether in private or in public his arm/hand is either always on you or around you. He may be super clingy, but he's considerate enough to stop touching you in any inappropriate way out in public if you tell him to. Which he gets super bummed over and will beg you relentlessly to let him be bolder with his affection for you, no matter the answer he will respect it, apprehensively, but he will.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Adam, vulnerable? Never. Even though you are the only person he would ever wanna be or feel so exposed with, he's just too prideful and insecure to let himself do that. He feels like he shouldn't feel anything but good about himself and to always act like the top dog no matter how he truly feels. You'd really have to try hard to get him to open up to you like that, but no matter how close you get you'll just be faced with a greatly angered Adam. Bearing his heart to you comes off as easier for him though. He's super confident about it, even though his wording sounds extremely awkward, showing just how new he is to actually loving someone in the way he loves you. You can always tell he's forcing himself to sound more considerate or romantic, he means everything he says of course, it just sounds fake because it comes out of his mouth so it feels uncanny even for him.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Just a bunch of irritated and confused cursing as he tries to calm you down. He doesn't necessarily curse at you, he just does as he struggles to come up with anything that won't be him just screaming at you and calling you names. But to answer the question directly, he doesn't like it, mostly. There is a tiny bit of him that does enjoy it because he finds you hot when you're angry, but he'll still much rather you not try to kick and bite him just to escape you're shared home. Adam would try to restrain you as fast and gently as possible, pinning you down and holding you're wrists behind your back before pushing you to a secluded room and locking you in there till you calm down.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Adam is certainly amused by your attempts of trying to get away, but it doesn't mean he endorses it or doesn't get bored of it quickly. If you do it frequently then he'd just become more and more irritated, struggling to keep himself composed and not accidentally hurt you or your feelings. Not to mention, at some point, he'd realized how fucked he'd be if you did escape and anyone would find out that he kidnapped you so he gets more stressed and forceful with keeping you in instead of out. So it's a no for the most part.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Hard to say... I think it depends on what kind of person you are and how much are you willing to tolerate when in regards to your kidnapper. Adam is loud, clingy, possessive, narcissistic, insecure, prideful, arrogant, disrespectful, immature, ignorant, selfish, etc. I could go all day honestly. Point is, if you're someone who could not handle one or more of his traits on the daily, then I'd say every day with Adam is like a nightmare to you probably.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Nothing too crazy, just you finally accepting that you belong with him and reciprocate his feelings. Adam just wants you to want him in the same way he wants you, living a normal and loving domestic life together, is that too much to ask?

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Adam is the jealous type! He thinks that everyone, even Lute is in some way trying to steal you away from him. He lashes out at those he deems as a threat, never outwardly blaming you for others getting in the way. Adam is immensely paranoid about you leaving or someone stealing you away, he won't let anyone steal his love away a third time. Lilith and Eve abandoning him, really left a huge scar on Adam, therefore him letting you form any sort of friendship is under his watch only. No ifs or buts, his insecure self is the one deciding who is "trustworthy" enough to spend time with you without them stealing you away. Not like he'll ever leave you alone with the person anyway.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

I've already touched on it, but Adam views you the same way he views God, someone who should be worshipped and treated as such. The only problem is that Adam is far too insecure and prideful to treat you the way he wants to openly. He has a "reputation" to uphold in the eyes of his fellow angels so out in the open he's pretty much the same as ever, except with a little hint of softness and consideration that is only ever reserved for you. He'd try to be more gentle with you, not curse so much around you or at you, not be so loud around you, basically not be the usual ass he is. Though him being better for you is a struggle and he does slip up more often than he'd like to admit, he still won't stop trying. Anything to gain your approval and affection.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Courting? What is that? This is "Dickmaster" we're talking about! He should be able to get you without even trying! It always worked before so why shouldn't he expect you to fall right into his arms like everyone else? But low and behold the shock he gets from you doing the opposite. You mean, he actually has to try this time??? Well, you're in luck! Cause if this was anyone else, Adam would have given up right then and there, but this is you we're talking about and he hasn't felt this way about anyone since... Ever really. So he'd approach you like he does everyone else but with a hint of anxiety to it and a very subtle change in his demeanor where he's surprisingly sweet and gentle with you.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Not really, no. Already said it a few times before, but the way he treats you is the same as he does with everyone else with a subtle difference here and there. Adam doesn't even acknowledge half the time when his dickish humor and loud yelling suddenly shifts into soft pleading and gentle touches when he's alone with you.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

We already know Adam is sadistic and cruel just from the way he views the Exterminations as entertainment and the way he treats the sinners as trash to throw around without any regard, making the contrast drastic when it comes to you. Whether you're aware of Exterminations or not, it's surprising how this man won't even dream of putting his hands on you in any way with an intent to harm you. He basically punishes you as if you were a child: time out, no TV, no ice cream/snacks, being locked in your room, etc. It sounds degrading and it would feel that way if it weren't for the fact he sounds absolutely clueless and guilty as he enforces his punishments on you, because in reality, he has no idea what he's doing. It's laughable really with how hard he's trying to discipline you while failing at the same type because of how childish his methods are.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Just the ability to be anywhere or do anything without him. Okay, maybe not that extreme, but it depends. Like, going outside without him is a big no-no that will not be tolerated without him being with you, it will immediately result in one of his punishments back at home. The same goes with spending time or even talking with others, he has to be next to you to monitor the situation, he's not happy about letting you talk to others, but he'll put up with it if it means you warming up to him for it. That's pretty much it, you're free to roam and do whatever inside the house. It's just outside of it does Adam step in and dictates what you can or can't do.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Adam is not a patient man by any means. With you, however? He struggles but tries to be as patient with you as he can. If you don't disobey him or fight back in any way then he acts like his usual clingy self around you. He's surprisingly patient with you slowly letting him in, sure he still forces his affections onto you, but he'll back away the moment you tell him to. Adam more than anything wants you to finally submit yourself to him so he can go as far with you as he desires, so he'll be patient with you as long as you need. After all, he's not only with you so you can please him, if it were about that he wouldn't have you locked up in his home with him, would he?

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

No, never. That would break him. His first and second wife left him for the most hated being in all of creation and the sole reason evil even exists in the world. And now you, someone who at some point he realized you outshine both Lilith and Eve in every aspect, his perfect little angle/winner. Adam would go through Hell and back just to have you back with him, destroying everything and anyone in his path who dares to keep you two apart. Death is not an option and escaping/leaving is hardly a possibility with how glued to you he is 24/7. But if you did manage to somehow get out while you can, there would never be a time of day when you wouldn't have to look over your shoulder in fear he won't eventually find you. Because he will. He will always find you.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No, and no. Such a thought won't ever even cross his mind! You should feel honored that out of everyone he picked you! You belong together, and Adam knows you'll someday feel the same about him. He's never willingly letting you go, that's for sure.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

His last two serious relationships left a huge psychological scar on Adam, one that he pretends doesn't exist by being a huge ass. Since his last wife left him, he hasn't fallen in love with anyone until he met you, or at least not in such an odd way. He hasn't been this happy since his time in the Garden of Eden! You sparked him back to life in such a way his previous relationships could never achieve, and he intends to keep it that way.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Instant internal panic. He hates seeing you like this, seeing you at your lowest really bothers him. You really bring out the humane part of him with how bad and guilty he feels seeing you in such a state. Which only makes the situation worse cause he has no idea what to do or how to help you. He'll do just about anything to get you to stop crying/screaming, put on a show for you, give you gifts, get your favorite snacks, try to gently calm you down, and even hug you if you let him. If you're isolating though, surprisingly he will give you some space for a bit, hoping you'll deal with whatever it is you're dealing with eventually. But if hours run by and you're still sulking in the corner, he's right by your side trying anything to cheer you up, and again, try to wrap his arms around you as he whispers sweet reassuring words into your ear and kisses your cheek. Adam at no point knows what he's doing or how to help you exactly, never been forced into a position of comforting someone, he just knows he hates seeing you like this and has to find a way to help you before he starts to get annoyed and potentially lash out at you, and lord knows he doesn't want that to happen.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He doesn't kill his ''competition''. You're both up in Heaven and he can't exactly harm or kill one of his fellow angels or winners just because he's jealous, it would only risk you two becoming fallen or worse, you being taken away from him. None of these options would ever happen, but if they did somehow come true, you better know Adam is fighting tooth and nail to get you back, even if it results in his own downfall.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Pretending to finally have fallen for him. While a little suspicious at first, if you play your cards right, you can easily fool him into believing you reciprocate his feelings. Adam is instantly over the moon the minute you say you finally love him, he has his arms wrapped around you in a second before kissing you all over. He feels like he's smitten for you all over again, instantly bending to your every call and whim. You can easily exploit him into letting you do whatever you want, like easily returning to whatever life you had before meeting Adam and pretending like you being kidnapped and forced to love him never happened. The only downside is that he's more clingy and affectionate than ever, never leaving you alone for long, and if you want to be able to have your old life back then be prepared to pretend to love him for the rest of your eternal days! Because once Adam catches on that you've been lying, your relationship is instantly brought back to how it used to be, except it's worse because whatever freedom you once had before this whole fiasco is gone. It feels like his past is back to haunt him, reliving does same scars both of his wives left him, instantly becoming colder and meaner toward you for some time, it will take a long time for Adam to forgive you and trust you again, if ever.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

No, absolutely not. Surprising isn't it? But with how highly he views you without you even realizing, he'd rather have the Exterminations be completely disbanded altogether if it means him never purposefully harming you. Sure, he may be a little too forceful with you sometimes or accidentally go too far but he never means to, he even immediately jumps away from you like a scared cat if he even hears you let out a pained sound from the way he's holding you. Adam sucks at apologizing or feeling empathy in general, but with you, it's a whole different story. His apologies still come off as somewhat forced or like he doesn't mean them, but he truly does and will do and say just about anything if it means you forgiving him and letting him hold you again.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

You are his sole purpose and the only thing he cares and thinks about 24/7. Of course, he worships you! Well, not openly at least. He's just scared that if anyone else catches on to how he really feels about you his reputation would go down the drain and he can't let that happen! That's why you'll only see this worshipping side of him in private, only then will you experience Adam sitting on his knees in front of you, begging for you to finally let him in and let him love you, showering you with endless praise while doing so. He'll do and say just about anything to finally win you over. He's a closeted simp is what I'm getting at.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

A week at most before he decides he should just steal you away to have you all to himself. I say this cause at the beginning Adam does try to court you like he did his previous dates before deciding you're different and matter so much more to him than anyone ever could or did. He can't even comprehend not living without you and letting you slip away so might as well just speed up the process of you living in his home with him like the happy couple you are! Not.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Depending on your tolerance of his general bullshit self, maybe??? I'm more inclined to say no though. Adam would never strive to break you on purpose, heck the more you refuse his love the faster he'll be the one to break in the relationship. But seriously, I don't think it's possible to break being with Adam, at most you're always annoyed with him and hate life but that's about it.

[zombiec4ke]

Can't take my eyes off you....(Part 1)

eyefestation x hard of seeing reader... summary (I suck at making these): as you were charged of a crime that you didn't do you were sent to ###### high security prison on a death row, but you were given a chance to live free of charge if you retrieved a crystal. How was you supposed to know that it would be better to just die? warnings: some swears here and there nothing too bad...yet...

a/n: uhhh so yeah...I made it...yippe?

(Ps y/n is hard of seeing in this fic, not entirely blind they have glasses but without their glasses they're as good as blind, also gn pronouns)

##-##-20##.

you are an inmate of ###### high security prison..

your crimes are irrelevant.

whether or not you were falsely charged is irrelevant.

you have served 93 days of your # year sentence.

Today, three men from Urbanshade Corporation, being escorted by heavily armed guards, arrived at the prison.

They were searching for volunteers to help them retrieve a crystal of sorts, a highly important asset they were unable to secure during a major security breach in one of their facilities.

they stated the risk of death was high but whoever could retrieve the asset return to them would be pardoned release with cleared record and receive ##### in cash

many of your fellow inmates signed up....

you signed up as well

you are expendable....

You are not expected to return...

the submarine hummed softly in the depths, the sound echoing throughout its small surface area

you were the only inmate on the sub, the others....well, uh let's just say they couldn't make it.

So the sub was eerily quiet without the usual chatter and arguing from your cellmates. You leaned your head on the wall letting the cold metal cool the back of your head.

The sub began to ascend, and soon enough it came to a stop, and you heard the creak of a hatch opening, you lifted your head off the wall and headed to the open hatch

as you stepped onto the concrete (?) floor you heard a man from urbshade on a speaker talk about retrieving the crystal blah blah blah ect you didn't really care to listen to the low quality pre recorded message.

you crouched under some boxes and got a key card that goes to the first door and made your way to insert the key card, when a 'click' noise is heard the doors open and shows a room that is very plain besides a few drawers here and there. you walked across the room to door 2.

the next 10 doors nothing really happened...unless you count spending 10 minutes trying to find a damn key card then stuff happened.

door 12 opened to show a hallway like any other but what was different was that the lights started flickering...that confused you, at first you just thought it was electrical problems but then you heard a high pitch scream so you dove in a locker just in time before a...how do you even describe that horrible monster you saw go past from the crack of the locker....

After the coast was clear you walked out the locker and tried to steady your queasy legs that felt like they were going to give out any second...

"What the hell was that...?" you mumble to yourself even though there was no one there besides yourself and maybe 5 cameras pointed at you from all angles

the next 5 doors were the same as through the occasional flicker of lights, although you found the monster to be a bit easier to hide from the more you met it.

it felt weird calling it an 'it' but you didn't want to call it a he if it's actually a she but then again maybe it's nonbinary...do monsters even have genders?!...*cough* ok enough rambling...

*30 doors later ig; I'm already tired and I don't think you wanna hear me talking about going through more doors*

you stood in front of room 47...you felt tired and hungry...when was the last time you ate? slept?? (it's only been 7 hours)

if the monsters didn't kill you then the exhaustion sure will...you took in a deep breath and put the key card in waiting a bit before the door opened annnnddd..

Pitch. Fucking Black.

You sure are glad you found a lantern! Surely there are no monsters that hate light and will hurt you if you flash them with light!

so rather than trying you go through the door just straight through without needing a light you choose to use a your lantern, luck be told there was a damn Squiddle and it lunged at you knocking your glasses off your face

"fuck" you hissed under your breath as you took a step back not noticing you stepped on your glasses until you hear the crunch of glass

"goddammit..." you say as you try and see but the world is a blurry mess...also you're still in the dark-

well this is gonna be fun... a/n: sorry if it's not long I'm going to make a part 2 where stuff really happens so think of this as a prologue or smth like that

[sebastianswallows]

The English Client — Thirty-six

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: none

— WORDCOUNT: 2.3k

— TAGLIST: @esolean @localravenclaw @slytherins-heir @thiefofthecrowns

I

It wasn’t until the afternoon that she and Tom were free to leave the station. A few of the Baron’s closest friends, among them Signor Luce, had vouched for their presence at the shop the night before, although none of the parties would explain why they were there at all. From the looks exchanged between Inspector Bombulo and the sergeant, they must have suspected something foul. Human trafficking, probably… But nothing that they could accuse the Baron’s wealthy friends of. Caught in the middle of this cavalcade and seeming innocent, they were released.

The two went home together and stayed quiet the whole way. The morning trams had just started running, but they felt none of the exhaustion that they should have. Adrenaline ran its shrill course through both of them. Tom went with her to her flat without even asking and privately dreaded what she’d say when they were finally in the safety of her room, but she prolonged his suffering and continued to say nothing much at all. Every time he looked at her he could see her eyes wide with fear and dark with grim foreboding. She always did love to fret so much, his dear…

“Is my Italian really that bad?” he asked as they were taking their shoes off.

She looked up at him from beneath her lashes and finally smiled. “Not half as bad as your French.”

He was relieved to have even gotten an insult from her — something which only weeks ago would’ve been outrageous to him.

She undressed, then gently stripped the clothes off him as well. Donatien’s clothes. If Tom had much life left in him he would’ve blushed. Without even asking how he’d come to wear them — had she even caught him changing back from the Polyjuice potion? — she threw them to the side and hugged him, skin melting against skin. He read in it apologies and supplications for having kissed Donatien, but could only smile. He had been the one to tempt her, after all.

“It was a horrible night,” she muttered against his chest.

“Oh, I don’t think it was so bad,” said Tom with a thin smile, his arms wrapped around her tightly.

“Of course you don’t. You finally got what you wanted.”

Too proud to ask for her forgiveness, Tom said nothing more, and in the bright morning, they went to bed together. He found that he preferred the silence. If neither of them said a word they could pretend the night had never happened, that everything was just as it was before, and would keep being so without such a fast-approaching end to all of it. But he could feel her holding onto him more tightly than she ever did, and he might’ve done the same. With fingers intertwined, she clasped his hand in hers as if to dream was to risk being cast adrift.

II

They were woken up quite late, at around six in the evening, by the ringing of the telephone. She rolled out of bed like a clumsy little storm and picked up before Tom could even groan.

“Yes?” she sighed. “Hello, mother. Yes, I sound tired because I am. No, I —” A pause in contemplation. “No, you know what, yes, I did just wake up.” The ghost of angry chiding on the other end. “Because I came in late last night. Anyway, how are you?”

Tom, lying on his stomach and so sleepy he could hardly feel his body, turned his head to look at her. There was a different quality to her voice that day, an impetuousness, a sharpness, something consummately stronger. He knew he’d had no part in it but he still felt quite proud.

“No,” she sighed, “I can’t tell you why. Because I can’t. And actually, I don’t even want to tell you. That’s right. Fine then. Fine. Go ahead, hang up.”

She slammed the receiver down as soon as it began to beep. Then, like a naked warrior emerging from the heat of battle, she fell upon the bed and groaned. Tom chuckled as he watched her cuddle close to him again and opened his arms to receive her.

III

“Mmmm… What time is it?”

“Half past one.”

“Damn.”

“I made tea.”

“Is it magic tea?”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious!”

“Do you want it or not?”

“Yes, please.”

“Then sit up.”

“Thank you…”

“And to answer your question, yes, I did brew it with magic.”

“REALLY???”

“Careful! You’ll spill it!”

IV

The whole day was wasted, at least from Tom’s point of view. He was stared at as if she could just by looking at him discover yet newer and more fascinating things about him. And the questions, the endless questions… She wanted to know where he’d learned everything and could hardly believe that it was in a school. Tom must have made it sound like the most ordinary thing — because, to him, it was. She was expecting, of course, that it was from some hermit living in a cave or a secret cult of witches, or from a book that she too could have found and read. Tom had to tell her with a secret little sting in his heart that it was not possible.

Then, quite reasonably, she wanted to know just what he’d done to Mr. Malfoy.

“I can’t tell you. But it’s harmless, I promise.”

He’d brought the book home as well, still in its decorative box. It amused him how although she’d handled it extensively the night before, now she was too afraid to touch it. She stared at it intensely though after Tom took it out. They made plans together on where to hide it. There was no indication that the Carabinieri would visit them at home but he wanted to prepare just in case.

“I’ll be damned if I let it fall into muggle hands again.”

“What’s a muggle?”

“…Nevermind.”

In the end, he decided to disguise it as a box of matches. It took several minutes for her to close her mouth after she saw him perform the simple spell, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t cute.

“They’ll get suspicious if they see it and notice you don’t smoke, though,” she said once she came back to her senses. “Especially considering they’re investigating arson at the Baron’s library.”

“…Packet of chewing gum, then.” He’d never before been so happy to have such a clever girlfriend.

“So you can just… change something into something else?”

“Magic would be very dull if it couldn’t even accomplish that, wouldn’t it?”

“And people too?”

“Well…”

“And people too?”

“To be specific, that’s a potion.”

“TOM!”

“OW!” he shouted as she hit him in the arm. He realised now whenever she’d done it before she was only playing at it.

“I knew he sounded strange!”

“The potion doesn’t change your voice, I had to — Ow!”

“And you made me feel bad about it!”

“You chose to feel bad. Ah, stop it!”

Fortunately, she was too distracted with hitting every part of him she could reach to ask what happened to the real Donatien. With any luck, she never would know.

Slowly, as they always did, they made up, and to wash all the unpleasantness out of her mind the faster Tom suggested they go out. They went for a walk, stopping for a quick meal at the first clean restaurant they saw, and by sunset, they found themselves before the Baron’s building.

There was still a little crowd outside and a police car that was empty, but they’d missed most of the fuss. The fire had been contained before it consumed the whole building, but the library was completely destroyed. The newspapers were reporting speculation that the blaze was the result of an occult ritual gone wrong, and by the time the two of them joined the onlookers the latest whisper was that the old man had tried to open a portal to hell. Tom couldn’t be happier.

“I won’t ask why you’re smiling.”

“Good.”

“But I know you shouldn’t.”

“Oh come now, don’t you find it at least a little bit amusing? And fitting?”

“You’re horrid.”

“You’ve only just noticed?”

She sighed but kept holding his hand.

“What happens now?” she asked as they started walking home.

“What do you mean?”

“Will you leave me?”

A lump formed in his throat and he had to force the words out. It was a struggle to speak calmly, smoothly, with no sign of a tremble in his voice.

“I have to.”

“But why?! You’re a… you’re a wizard,” she whispered, even though there was nobody around anymore. “You can live anywhere, do anything!”

“If only it were that simple…”

Her face was such a perfect melding of angry and sad. It was, in fact, perfect in every way.

“You just think I’m not good enough for you, don’t you?” she said, standing before him with heartbroken fury.

The thought had crossed his mind. It was actually one of the favourite things he told himself when he needed a reminder that he’d have to leave. But the longer he searched for an answer for her, the more he was confronted with the looming phantom of a thought — the truth was in fact the opposite: he’d never felt good enough for her.

“Tom,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. “Just tell me…”

“Why? Would it give you great pleasure in hearing it?”

“No,” she said with a pained smile. Her voice wavered with unshed tears. “But I’d rather hear it than keep thinking it. Pull it out of my head and be done with it.”

Her voice struck Tom like a blade, like a talon, like a thorn caught somewhere between his heart and ribs that pained him with every breath. It would’ve been so easy to say it, just as he’d found it easy to think it, but the words got stuck along the way and choked him.

It started snowing just then, the first snow of the year. Neither of them cared to look at it. Her face was veiled behind her foggy breath and slowly stars of snowflakes gathered in the soft canopy of her hair. Tom reached to touch one and let his gloved hand linger until he could cup her face. She stepped closer, a lost doe seeking warmth, and pressed her hands against the lapels of his coat.

“Ask me to come along with you again,” she said. “Ask me one more time, just like you used to.”

He cocked a brow. That was the last thing he had expected her to say. Every time he’d offered she shot him down, and now? She knew just as well as he did that it would look suspicious, given the circumstances. But something in her voice was… desperate. Was she really as in love with him as she seemed to be, or was she just expecting him to get her out of trouble?

“Ask me,” she said again.

“Why? You’ve said no plenty of times.”

In truth, he’d only asked her to join him in England in an attempt to gain her trust — to get closer to the book. The Polyjuice solution had made her no longer necessary as he could get the book from Malfoy directly in a way that satisfied the protection spells around the shop. But standing before him she seemed genuinely hurt in a way Tom couldn’t comprehend — or didn’t want to. He had barely begun to comprehend his own feelings, fraught as they were.

Her jaw was tight, her eyes smouldered, and Tom remained silent and unmoving. Whatever it was she thought, she didn’t say it. Instead, she turned sharply on her heels and left. Or would have. Tom had gripped her elbow and he would not let her go.

“Why do you wish to leave with me? Why now?”

She threw a frown at him, so angry at his rejection that it clouded all her thoughts. She said nothing but it didn’t stop Tom from trying to read her mind.

“Why?” he asked again.

But she ripped herself out of his grip before he could read her thoughts and turned away, trotting through the soft floating snow.

V

He plated the book in front of him and it landed with a gentle thud. With the reverence of a bridegroom on a wedding night, Tom reached down and pulled the cloth away and saw the horrid face of dead dry leather, stitched up, shining in the candlelight. He had to convince himself he was worthy of touching it. It wasn’t every day he read a book written by the devil. He spent a few moments just contemplating the cover, the feel of it, the binding, the scent of an old corpse... Books like this should be savoured. It was like a whole new world one stepped in with their fingers, a mind cracked open like a shout of thunder crashing through the air.

What craftsmanship that had gone into it, what care… Going as far as selecting the right skin for it, the blood to make the ink, the parchment lacquered in black wax to make the pages shine. Someone had loved this book with all the fervour and the pain of a mother giving birth, and throughout its lengthy life so far, it had known many other loves. Obsessive, possessive love, yet reverent as well. It did not escape Tom’s notice that it would make a worthy Horcrux.

But, on the off-chance that it really was written by a demonic being, binding his soul to it might not be such a good idea.

He cracked it open. It groaned. The pages sighed upon being exposed and the front cover fell upon the desk like a foot tapping down. The same devil on the frontispiece waved at him in silence as that which Mr. Malfoy saw.

“Venetiae, apud Aristidem Torchiam & LCF,” he read out loud. Looking more closely, he noticed a thin writing on the foot of the demonic throne, almost less of a text and more of a clawed scribble. “Sic luceat lux… Thus let the light shine.”

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

NFITH Chapter 1 - New Territory [Commander Fox x Fem!Reader]

Warnings and Information: New to Coruscant and adjusting horribly to your new job as a senator’s aide, you often find yourself lost on the best of days, and the target of her wrath on the worst of them. You could almost swear she’s setting you up to fail as your job standards become more and more impossible. Fortunately for you, you have someone in high places looking out for you before long.  Second Person POV, undescribed Fem!Reader, save for *very occasional* mentions of makeup. Establishing chapter where Reader moves to Coruscant for intentionally vague reasons. Reader does not meet Fox in this chapter. Reader has a very helpful neighbor. This series contains depictions of anxiety and panic attacks. Star Wars and real-world swearing. Narrative and stylistic use of italics. 

Word count: 2,748

New Territory

Moving to the centermost jewel of the Core Worlds for a career change was an impulsive decision spurred on by the start of the Clone Wars some time ago. Feelings of great uncertainty for your future in this developing chapter of your life became a dragging, tugging weight you could no longer ignore. What once provided anchorage to keep you stable and sure threatened to drown you in the ever-shifting tide if you did not rid yourself of these hindrances. 

Something new was waiting for you on Coruscant, the city that never sleeps. You just wouldn’t be sure until you got there.

Loved ones had rallied around you when you made preparations for the plunge, showing you support and lending a helping hand in packing most of your life away in tidy little boxes and crates. It proved easy with their help. You truly couldn’t have done it without them. Choosing cherished items to leave behind was no walk in the park, but it was easier than what would come next. 

The fretful farewells and yawning maw of a whole new galactic timezone between you and your loved ones were bitter pills to swallow. The first coils of dread pooled in your stomach upon the drop out of hyperspace, slowly gnawing away all the while as you met up with the moving company in the early afternoon.

Getting the keycards and address to your new Coruscanti apartment marked the start of an aching loneliness. 

There was no one to stand behind you in silent support when the new neighbors came sniffing around at the sight of the moving company, leaving you to greet them on your own. None of the bittersweet laughter that lovingly tucked your holoalbums in boxes accompanied you when it came time to unpack them. No one would help you decide where you should put your travel-wilted houseplants when you introduced a little greenery, something to fill up the empty space. 

(The corner would have to do for now.)

Dinner was eaten alone. 

Too travel-tired, and the whole of your body aching at the thought of a few minutes more on your feet after a busy afternoon of scattered unpacking, you purchased something from one of the many street vendors just outside the complex. 

The signage was not in Galactic Basic, but thankfully, the Dug vendor knew enough to provide “something filling” when you asked. Anything would do so long as it took the claws of the gripping hunger and filed them down. Credits changed hands for a carton of breaded nuna nuggets in a vegetable and grain blend, which was taken back upstairs and enjoyed quietly in the solitude of your kitchen for a moment, just savoring the flavor of your first meal on a new planet. 

To disrupt the unfamiliar room tone, you eventually tune in to a radio drama for the first in a long time. Something to fill up your apartment with a little more sound until you’re ready to unpack a final box or two for the night, then head to bed. The script’s corny and amateurish quality has you reconsider that idea pretty quickly. 

The longer you listen, the more it sounds like an office drama, complete with catty watercooler talk and power tripping micromanagers. 

Pass.

You turn it off and put the rest of your meal in the conservator for tomorrow.

You make just enough progress on a pair of boxes before you’re content both with the day’s progress and the prospect of finally getting some shut-eye. 

Leaving the process of wrestling your mattress in place when you’re running on fumes likely wasn’t the best idea, but it should serve its purpose for draining the remainder of whatever energy reserves you have. Once settled in the bed frame, extracting your bed linens and dressing things up is all that’s left before your nightly routine, and finally, sleep. Fixing the mattress cover and fitted sheet in place takes the most time, the rest proves a breeze. 

The new sleeping space is capped off with final addition of the comforter. A loved one packed your sleep set in the same box as the bed linens, meaning you don’t have to sleep in the day’s now-dirty clothes, or dig through any more boxes. 

It smells like home. 

And it’s the first time you sit here—truly sit here—in the newness and the unfamiliar of what you’ve gotten yourself into… and struggle not to cry. You deny the brine-water in your eyes its purpose, wiping and washing everything down the sink drain instead. The cold creepings of loneliness and regret are placated with self-soothing nonsense. 

You’re just tired. There was a lot of information to process today. Everyone feels completely overwhelmed their first day on Coruscant. 

It could easily be the first of many days… 

Finally reclining in bed, you find it hard to sleep now that there’s nothing else to occupy your mind with, taking notice how full of sound this foreign environment is. Understanding this planet is one massive, incomprehensible city, it’s easy to see why rather than the occasional, irregular sound, the noise pollution will be constant, coming from countless sources.  

The hummed harmonies of neon signs glowing in the smog. A million skylanes warbling and purring with speeder cabs in every color of the light spectrum. The steady, endless drum of foot traffic on a million and one walkways. The voices of trillions of galactic lifeforms living above and below the surface; all parading around on the planet that never sleeps. 

Sleep eludes you all night, or proves restless when you wink out of consciousness, however temporarily.

Your neighbor from down the hall is not surprised to see you propped up in the doorframe, folding over in exhaustion when you answer the door just before mid-morning. You force drooping eyelids back in place, praying this is a quick matter as you greet the elderly woman perched on your welcome mat next to a large bag. 

You were in the process of sniffing out which of the many boxes filled with kitchenware contained your caf machine so you could brew yourself a cup of much-needed energy when there was a knock at your door. 

“Can I help you…?”

She was Tholothian, judging by the scaled skullcap and tendrils that bobbled over her shoulders from the force of the gentle, bubbly laugh she breaks into in her amusement. 

“Oh no, dear; I’m here to help you. May I come in?” 

Her smile is warm, and kind; emphasized and complemented by both smile and age lines. You’re pretty sure you saw her the other day when the movers brought in the first of the boxes, but you can’t remember a name.

Figuring there’s no harm, you invite her inside, at which point she collects the sizable bag at her feet and finds a way to gracefully squeeze it past you without so much as a bumped elbow. “Do you… need any help with that?” The offer to help is made only after the moment has passed, brain sluggish and more than a little forgetful of your manners. 

Fortunately, she’s forgiving of the situation before her. “I’m plenty strong in my old age, don’t you worry! Got up nice and early this morning to get some things that’ll help you settle in. Groceries, too.” 

No longer quite sleepy, you now stand there, stunned. “You- you brought me groceries?”

With a smile, she hoists the bag a little higher than before. “I sure did. Where would you like me to put everything, dear?”

“T-the counters in the kitchen’s fine…” you stammer. 

Your neighbor brings the grocery-laden bag into the apartment’s small kitchen, and lines everything up on the countertop as you instructed. Blue milk, a loaf of polystarch, eggs, caf creamer, and generic breakfast mixes are among the lot. 

“Here you are! A few essentials to get you started.” Previously crammed in one singular bag, there are now fifty or so items to be put away. (That’s a few?)

You would be speechless if it wasn’t the polite thing to thank her. 

“I, uh… h-holy shit, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” she replies cheerily. “Mrs. Helios is always here for her neighbors. I’m just a knock away down the hall in ol’ 4546Besh if you ever need me.”

Mrs. Helios. Tholothian. 4546Besh. 

You could remember that. (Probably.) You properly introduce yourself while the two of you begin putting away the perishables first, the conservator and cupboards looking a little less barren than before. (And she thinks you have a lovely name; says it suits you.) Keeping up the momentum, the boxes of kitchenware previously poked through for the caf-maker are tackled next, at Mrs. Helios’ offering.

“You look like you could use a hand.” she says with a knowing smile. 

“I would certainly appreciate it…” you say, not for the first time. 

Steady progress is made over the next half hour or so until the beverage machine has been located, at which point you dig only long enough to find the caf powder and a suitable mug before the Tholothian encourages you to have a rest. Mrs. Helios takes the opportunity to present you with a few more things out of her bag while you wait on your cup to brew. 

The first is a sound device, the price sticker subjected to some rather thorough redacting of monetary value. The packaging is pretty nondescript, save for a few lofty promises���over 150+ new and improved audio files!—but the machine itself has a rather nice, sleek design when you extract it from the box. Coincidentally, it happens to be in a softer shade of one of your favorite colors. 

“It may help mask some of the... less pleasant ambience you’ll find here.” 

Her reasoning sagely segues into the next item, handwritten advice on how to deal with the high amount of crime and the pickpockets that plague the planet. The stack of hair-thin acrylic sheets must be half an inch tall, and again, handwritten. Each letter is crisp, with a print-like quality to it. It must’ve taken her several hours to write this much, and so tidily.

You’re kind of at a loss for words. You’re wondering if you’ve made a terrible mistake uprooting your comfortable life to live here.

“Just how bad is the crime?”

“It’s not so bad here on the upper levels, dear. Biggest concern would be pickpockets, day to day. But the sub-levels; now those areas you’d really need to take care of yourself.” Mrs. Helios understands that's not much comfort, so the subject is changed for now while you fetch the finished cup of caf. (You set another to percolate for good measure; you’ll likely take it for yourself if Mrs. Helios declines.) “Speaking of upper levels… I also wrote down a few of the good shops not too far from here that you may find helpful as you're settling in. Nice variety, and all that.” 

You take the first of the pages and study its directions, telling you how many turns to take, nearby signage, types of shops you should be seeing along the way. She’s thought of everything. Mrs. Helios has made a point to include the name and species of the shop-owners, and the languages they speak as well.

Nursing your caf, you select a passage at random. 

Hasher (Dug) speaks Basic, but be sure to greet him in Huttese first. The word ‘Hello’ is ‘Achuta’. 

“You must be pretty familiar with these shop owners.” 

“I’ve been doing business with them for years,” Mrs. Helios confirms, head bobbing. 

Though the two of you had proper introductions little more than an hour ago (if the chronometer is to be believed), the elderly Tholothian has given you the impression she’ll answer any question with honesty. She’s given no reason for you to suspect otherwise so far, anyway. 

“Are they… friendly?”

Mrs. Helios has given you an ace up your sleeve, and she knows it. “They should be! If they aren’t, telling ‘em Mrs. Helios sent you their way ought to remind them of their manners. I won’t tolerate them being unkind to my neighbors just because I’ve known them for years.” Reaching across the small table, she takes your hand and gives your forearm a gentle but reassuring pat. “You’ll find your footing here in no time, dearie. Don’t you worry.” Her smile lines deepen, and her tone is full of confidence. 

“I hope so…” you reply, sleepy in your optimism.

Not much later, the caf-pot indicates the second cup you’ve set to brew has finished, strengthening the robust aroma wafting through your tiny apartment kitchen. Getting up, you collect the mug full of bitter brew and offer it up to your new neighbor, asking if she’d like some sugar or cream to sweeten it. You should have thought to do the same with your own, but you’d been so desperate for a stimulant after a near-sleepless night that you only waited long enough for it to cool to a more comfortable temperature, at which point it was drunk straight. 

“Oh, that’s a very kind offer, but I’m afraid caf and I don’t agree with one another. I suspect I’m mildly allergic to caffeine; always seem to break out in hives after a cup. You go ahead and have it for me, dear.” Mrs. Helios encourages you. She promises there’s no sense worrying about the possibility of a contact allergy, either. More than one broken cup of caf has been cleaned by her thin fingers throughout her lifetime without ill effect. 

That brings up many questions, she’s all too sure, but you’ll have to find your answers another time. 

“Judging from the amount of boxes, you’re planning to be here for a while. There will be plenty of time to get to know one another better.”

“I came to Coruscant for a career change.” you confess, stirring in a few spoonfuls of sugar into the second cup of caf. “So I hope that’s true.” 

The Tholothian’s expression quickly becomes one of mild interest. “Is that so? And do you have a career lined up for you already?” Interest morphs into gentle disapproval and concern when you tell her there’s no new job lined up yet. “Oh good galaxies, child. That won’t do at all… Coruscant can be such an expensive place to live. Well. In that case, I ought to give you some directions to the nearby career centers before long. You deserve a little time to settle in, first.”

First groceries, then a noise machine and a sizable stack of hand-written advice. Now Mrs. Helios is offering to help you find resources to pick up a new career. You must have accrued and cashed in some seriously good karma or something to have such a helpful neighbor just down the hall. It almost feels too good to be true. You know your family would be as relieved as you are grateful to have met someone so generous and helpful so shortly after moving to Coruscant. 

“Stars, I… I don’t know how to possibly thank you enough, Mrs. Helios...” 

Your neighbor smiles, humored, as she begins gathering her things. She’s taken enough of your time for the day; ought to be on her way and let you get back to setting your apartment in order at your leisure. Boxes that have piled up in the joint search of the caf-maker are kicked aside, helping her get to the door unencumbered. 

“Settle in first. Then you can fuss about thanking me,” the Tholothian tells you with a matronly smile and a deciding nod. “But there’s no pressure. This is new territory for you, dear. Your story is just getting started.”

That’s certainly one way to look at it. “Yeah… I guess you’re right.” you agree softly, returning her pleasant smile. Her words are simple, but so very comforting. You linger at the door, waiting until Mrs. Helios makes it down to 4546Besh before slipping back inside your own apartment with a departing wave. 

She’s absolutely right. 

The day is still young, and with the caf in your system, you should be able to make decent work on emptying these moving boxes if you work in waves. Your first night was rough, but it’s behind you now. Given an incredible leg up by your generous neighbor, tonight should be better. 

And tomorrow, you’ll start properly exploring the planet at the heart of the Galactic Republic.

Starting out this series on the small-side for chapters; be warned that future chapters will (likely) be on the longer end going forward!

Fic taglist: @dukeoftheblackstar @dystopicjumpsuit @msmeredithrose @lonely-day3636 @returnofthepineapple

[FFF Masterlist] [NFITH Masterlist] [Taglist] [Requests: OPEN]

[soobrat]

siren iv

genre; smut

warnings; sub!reader, dom!jaemin, tit in mouth, cunnilingus, rough PIV, exhibitionism, unprotected sex (it was an accident this time), PLEASE DON'T WATCH THIS AS AN INDICATER OF MY SKILL OR REGULAR QUALITY IT'S JUST FOR FUNSIES, IT'S LITERALLY UNEDITED PLS

preface; what the caps said in the warnings^

siren masterlist

“Do you guys think we’ll get a say this time?” Yunho asks from his bed as he stares up at the ceiling.

Mingyu shrugs, licking his bottom lip to conceal his smirk. “I dunno.” He stretches before resting his arms behind his head. 

“Isn’t the whole point of the show that the girls take control.” Taehyun grunts, curling the dumbbell in his right hand toward his chest. 

“Of course you don’t care.” Jake mumbles.

The tone sounds and everyone halts except Taehyun.

“Will Jaemin, Mingyu, Yunho, and Jake please make their way to the living room.”

The reactions range from laughter, shock, to loaded sighs.

“D’you care now– why’d I even ask.” Jake stops himself once he sees Taehyun switch to a plank. 

Once downstairs, they notice four tables with envelopes on them. Only one has more than one envelope.

“Please stand at the table with your name on it.”

All four men stand atop the platform where they’re assigned. “Open your envelopes.”

Jaemin pulls out his note quickly, hoping to finally find out what’s going on. 

‘Your garnet gal ;)’ Jaemin shudders at the cheesiness but can’t get rid of his smile.

“In order to head out on a special date, you must correctly guess who wrote you the note. If you have more than one, feel free to choose.”

-🖊️⇝

The tone sounds again, this time in the ladies’ room. 

“Will Chaeyeon and ___ please make their way to the living room.”

Everyone reacts in confusion except for Chaeyeon, who doesn’t even look up from her book. Roseanne and Yizhuo wave goodbye hesitantly at the both of you.

When you get down there, Mingyu and Jaemin are waiting for you both. You smile at Jaemin, hoping he saw your horrible note. 

“Men, pair up with your woman.” 

Mingyu smiles at you as he steps down from the platform and your heart jumps. Is he coming over to you?

He passes by and you nearly fall to your knees in relief. You lean slightly on Jaemin once he stands beside you.

Chaeyeon and Mingyu leave first in a separate car. Yours pulls up shortly after. You groan in the backseat. “What now.”

“I know, I hate when they’re secretive about stuff.”

“Why were you two downstairs?” You grasp at straws to get some semblance of understanding. 

“There were originally four of us, everyone but Taehyun. We had to guess who these notes were from.”

Your face lights up as you turn toward him. He scowls at you. “Yes I got your stupid note.” As soon as you open your mouth to respond he’s talking over you with vague positive responses. 

“I have so much rizz don’t I?”

“Ye- absolutely not.” His face pinches in disgust. “I never want to hear you say that word again.”

You don’t get to rebut as you notice where the car is stopping. “An amusement park?!”

The two of you practically sprint into the indoor park, discovering that it’s been rented out for just the two of you. This time you take the reins, as amusement parks are your expertise.

“First you want to get on a ride close to the entrance. It stops you from wasting the beginning of your trip by walking around, and it gets your heart rate up right away.” You blab on all the way to the train. You settle in your seat and notice you’ve been the only person talking for the past ten minutes. You throw a cautious glance at Jaemin who’s smiling at you. 

“Got any more info?”

You smack his arm, feeling butterflies unrelated to being strapped into a rollercoaster. He’s fucking with you, he’s not actually interested. You puff air into your cheeks. 

“Clear for takeoff.”

Without having to account for line lengths, parts of your routine are useless. You usually just get the most popular ones out of the way. 

“Let’s ride this one!” Jaemin points out yet another thrill ride. The joke you have about him being an adrenaline junkie fails to come out. You chalk it up to letting him have fun and not you being drawn in by his smile. When he smiles genuinely, it brings a new energy to his entire demeanor. 

So you refrain from making jabs at him, feeling giddy about him doing the same. The thought of him genuinely enjoying your company makes it feel like you’re floating. While walking to the exit you– despite only thinking it happened in movies– feel the urge to pinch yourself. Your brain is refusing to ground itself.

In the car you inch your pinky toward his. You’re clearly still in la-la-land if you’re making such a bold move. You from middle and high school are screaming in dread and anticipation. You snap your head away, not wanting to see the results but still not chickening out. Your hand flinches when you feel his pinky wrapping around yours.

You can feel his eyes on you but your neck is suddenly locked in place. An intoxicating feeling bubbles to the surface until it forces a grin onto your face. Jaemin reaches to hold your entire hand and his skin sears yours. 

Again you’re distracted by where you’re being pulled into. It’s not the beach house, it’s a hotel. The building stretches high enough that your neck cranes back far to observe it. There’s a striking pop of red that disrupts the black exterior. That extends to the inside once you and Jaemin get to your room. The entire room is exclusively black and red with the exception of the cream floors. It’s sophisticated, eye-catching, seductive. Maybe that’s your adrenaline still soaring while Jaemin still holds your hand. With only amusement park snacks in your system, you and Jaemin jump to the hotel menu. Jaemin whispers off things to order while you relay them to the woman on the phone. 

“Patbingsu.” Jaemin whispers what feels like the fiftieth food item and you can’t help snorting into the receiver. This poor woman and poor whoever that has to gather this viking feast.

The person who has to edit the footage of you two eating will most likely hate you guys. It’ll just consist of caveman grunts as you both scarf down as much food as you can until you can’t take anymore. You guys do talk, but only to gush over how amazing the food is. 

“Chaeyeon and Mingyu are great, but this is what I’m talking about.” You say as you near the end of the feast. 

“Yup.” Jaemin lets out a satisfied sigh as he leans back in his chair. “I was holding my tongue.”

“No you weren’t.” Oh god. You quickly seal your lips but it’s too late. You just know the editor just sat up in their chair. “You complimented Chaeyeon.”

Jaemin nods, thinking hard as chews the remnants of his final bite. “I was being nice, the meat was a little gray and dry.” He just shrugs and wipes off his hands. That ended clean enough, so just drop it. 

“What do you think Chaeyeon’s note was?” You snicker, playing it off as lighthearted curiosity. Jaemin laughs as well. “Imagine if she did an acrostic poem?” 

You both look at each other before bursting into an even bigger fit of laughter. 

He catches his breath, “Charming, Hot, Adorable, Enchanting–”

“Is that so?” You tilt your head into the air and tongue your cheek. He dramatically rolls his eyes. “Tell us how you really feel Jaemin.” Fake it until you make it is a very important mantra for you. However, no matter how much you pretend you’re joking, you can’t get rid of the annoyance.

“I’m sorry ma’am–”

“I’m going to bed.” You announce with your arms crossed. You hear him call after you before hearing his feet speed toward you. Your heart lurches as you run away from him, the adrenaline coming back with a startled giggle. You look back to see he’s much closer than you thought and shriek. Before you can maneuver around the bed he’s already wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“Where are you going?” He whispers hotly in your ear. You squirm, nerve endings throughout your body bursting with energy. His mouth brushing your ear makes your core clench. You gasp, pulling away from him. 

“I’m going to take a shower. Are you gonna chase me there too?” You say, trying to straighten out the shakiness in your voice. You glance back, your curiosity getting the best of you only to see him smirking. He grabs the bottom hem of his shirt before pulling over his head. He captures his bottom lip with his teeth.

“Maybe.”

Energy flutters through you, making you shove the door closed with more strength than you intend. If you weren’t a wimp, you’d take a cold shower. There’s no way you can play with yourself tonight, and if he keeps riling you up like this it’ll be the only thing you can do. Your sudsy hands travel over your body, inching toward your heat. You stop yourself, he probably needs to get in the bathroom too. 

When you come out he’s sitting on the bed in only a towel. 

“What are you doing?” You gasp, approaching him frantically. You cover him up with a pillow which he throws away with a chuckle. 

“Do you remember what I said?”

You’re too flustered and your body feels so hot. You don’t get the chance to discover what he’s talking about before he explains himself.

“I took my shirt off, joked about coming into the bathroom with you, and now we’re both here basically naked. The cameras have been off.” 

You’re shoved back to that moment outside of the bathroom. It was so brief when he had you holding your breath, wondering if he was seriously going to come in with you. Except this time it’s much longer, and you’re much closer. Your faces are hovering close while you both have flimsy cloths protecting your modesty.

“So?” He asks and you wish he hadn’t. You don’t want to verbalize what you want. Ultimately you don’t want to have to explain to your mother why you basically have a sex tape on television. You clench your eyes shut, desperately wanting that thought to fade away. 

“Are you hot?” Jaemin tries, resting his hands on your shoulders. Your eyes flutter open. It’s hard to think of anything with him touching you. And yes, now that he’s drawn your attention to it, your body is burning up. You nod and his brows jump, but he doesn’t do anything. You thought that was the ideal outcome a few minutes ago. You’d both narrowly escape this risky situation and get to bed. But you wouldn’t be able to sleep. You wouldn’t be able to huddle under the covers because of the fire burning you up. You desperately need to cool down. And you need help.

You slowly untie your robe, heart thumping as his eyes travel down. Jaemin finishes the job by slipping the fabric down your shoulders. The action is slow but is followed by him yanking you onto his lap. The yelp you go to let out is caught in your throat once you feel him under you. 

He throws his head back, leaning forward again only to take you in. You felt vulnerable then, but even more so when he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. His mouth is plush and warm, interrupted by the sharp sensation of him biting you. All that you can manage are fragmented whimpers as your body attempts to register each sensation. He loops his arms around your waist tight as you arch into his mouth. He switches in between the two, giving them an equal amount of love

Your moans grow until they’re no longer fragmented and you’re grinding into him unabashedly. You’ve only felt a tongue in your mouth, never had you imagined how good it would feel elsewhere. Jaemin is vastly different from your first. From the way he flips you over and kisses down your body to his sinful eyes as he reaches your heat. You’re so, so hot. You crave his tongue to put out the fire. When he laves at your slit, it’s almost like you can hear the hiss of a fire being extinguished. Silky spit coats your lower lips as he tongues you open. It feels immoral to feel this good. Especially from something so disgusting. The sound, the slimy sensation, his mouth being latched on to an area it wasn’t made for.

It’s so good that your moans become pained, unable to contain how good you feel. You’re about to cum harder than you have in your whole life. Harder than your ex ever made you cum, that’s for sure. And so you giggle as you’re right on the cusp. 

“I’m gonna cum–”

And then he kisses back up your body, dark eyes and mussed hair complimenting his cocky grin. Annoying you further. He pushes his tip in before you can complain. He’s so thick you think he may just not go in. But then he pulls back before slipping in further, your cunt sucking him in. You shudder out a moan, choking on it as he starts smacking his hips against yours. You wonder how thick these walls are, just how separated you are from the other people on this floor. Can they hear you screaming out and the bed frames banging against the wall?

A slightly frightening thought intercepts in your mind. Your neck cranes, checking every corner of the room.

Jaemin laughs, “Are you looking for cameras?”

You stare at him doe eyed as if you’ve been caught doing something bad. It should be easy to say yes with the reason being obvious. But you nod again, afraid to speak.

“Yeah? Are you afraid they’re watching us right now? Or…” Jaemin slams forward, sheathing fully inside you and knocking the air out of you. He stays in that suffocating position, stuffed fully into your guts as he leans down. “Are you excited by that?”

He wraps his hand around your throat, looking at you as if he already knows the answer. 

“How many people do you think are monitoring the cameras? Making sure we’re not in danger only to find my cock deep inside you.” He exhales hotly on your cheek and you bite your lip, overflowing with arousal. 

“I can feel you clenching. What a pretty slut you are.” He mutters next to your ear. A squeeze of your throat sends arousal gushing out of you, catching you both by surprise. Your hips snap up, legs trembling as your orgasm is squeezed out of you. 

“Dirty girl.” He sneers, keeping his grip on your throat as you ride out your high.

[defectivevillain]

this broken design, ch15

pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Reader

summary: That familiar analytical gleam in your eyes lives in Hannibal’s mind as he sinks his teeth into his prey. Despite your departure hours ago, Hannibal sees you sitting across from him at the table. Dining alone has never bothered him; yet, right now, he can’t help but desire your company—your scintillating conversation, your sharp wit, your clever smirk. Indeed, his table feels uncharacteristically empty. Hannibal stares at the chair across from him—the same chair he’s grown accustomed to seeing you sit at—and takes another bite. Flavor explodes on his tongue, yet you are what dominates his thoughts.

Your experience in criminal profiling means that you've met a wide variety of people from all different walks of life. You've stared down hardened criminals and fought for your life against people hellbent on killing you. Even so, something about the FBI's new target, the Chesapeake Ripper, seems to elude you.

Then you meet Hannibal Lecter: an enigmatic jigsaw of a man with jagged corners and misshapen pieces.

Fortunately, you've always been rather good at puzzles.

read from the beginning here.

ao3 version | Spotify playlist

typical warnings apply.

The Chesapeake Ripper stares at you, his crimson eyes boring into your skin and sending a horrible dread itching up your arms.  

You stare back, despite knowing you shouldn’t. You should run, hide, do anything except remain standing before him like this. You’ve never been more aware of your gun’s weight on your belt—the only reassurance you have in this office. The air almost seems to buzz in the silence. You don’t know if you should break through the tension or leave it to fester. It takes every ounce of resistance you have not to make a move for your gun. You know the gesture would ruin any process you may have accrued from this session so far, any fleeting conviction that you wouldn’t hurt Hannibal.

You don’t know anymore. Would you hurt Hannibal? You’ve had plenty of opportunities to do so, but you’ve never followed through. You can’t decide if you’re cowardly, cruel, or compassionate. Perhaps you’re a mix of the worst qualities, rolled up into an agent with too little morality and too much apprehension. You’ve labeled all your interactions with Hannibal as investigations into his character, but you’ve left each of those encounters knowing more about yourself than you could ever wish to know. 

“You knew,” Hannibal says. There is nothing more to be said, it seems. And perhaps, for the first time since you met Hannibal, you have the upper hand. You are the one possessing knowledge, and he is the one to be wounded by ignorance of it. Better people would not have been satisfied or satiated by this realization, but if there’s anything you’ve learned about yourself through this process, it’s that you’re not a good person. For someone to serve as a complicit accomplice, allowing the murders to continue… you are just as bad as Hannibal is. 

A small part of you is more forgiving. A voice in the back of your mind—one that sounds far too similar to Hannibal himself—keenly reminds you that you had no choice, that accusing Hannibal without sufficient proof would’ve had devastating consequences. This voice caresses your skin with a shadowed touch, with a gentleness that you know you do not deserve. 

“I suspected, yet…” Hannibal breaks off.  It’s extremely unusual for him to trail off in the middle of a statement; the man is normally extremely articulate. You raise an eyebrow, gaze still narrowed in on him. You can’t look away for even a moment. A second’s hesitation is practically a hand-wrapped gift to the Ripper. “It appears you’ve rendered me speechless.”

Hannibal takes a half-step forward. You pull out your gun, pointing it at his temple. He stills, before raising his hands in the air in faux surrender. It’s an act—it’s all an act. He is not threatened. In fact, Hannibal looks excited, amused. He is not afraid. The Chesapeake Ripper does not feel fear, you have to remind yourself. He once choked a nurse to death, and his heart rate hardly fluctuated. You swallow hard. Hannibal may not be afraid, but you certainly are. The irony is not lost on you: you have the gun, yet your heart pounds in your chest all the same. Normally, you are the prey and Hannibal is the predator; now, the roles are reversed and you’re left anticipating another reversal. 

“Will you do it?” Hannibal asks, his voice cutting through the static in your ears. 

You take a step forward and jam your pistol into his temple, hard enough to bruise. “Do you want me to?” You ask, your voice disturbingly calm. The mad gleam in Hannibal’s eyes suggests that he may actually want you to kill him. His pupils are blown wide and the smile on his face almost looks to be carved into his skin. Do you want me to kill you? Are you really, truly apathetic towards death? I don’t think so. I think, deep down, you are just as afraid of death as everyone else. You’ve grown so good at lying that you can even deceive your own feelings, Hannibal. The conscious deceives the unconscious.

For a fraction of a moment, you contemplate killing Hannibal Lecter. You imagine pulling the trigger, shooting a bullet straight through his temple. Your mind conjures images of Jack Crawford arriving at the scene, clapping a hand on your shoulder and reassuring you that you did the right thing, that no one else has to die. You imagine washing the blood from your hands that night and sleeping fitfully, roused from slumber every so often with the reminder of what you’ve done. 

Was it all for nothing? It’s a worthless thought, but that doesn’t stop your mind from contemplating the notion. Was all of this just one giant game? Were you always meant to be a pawn—easily manipulated and weakest alone? You want to think that your time with Hannibal thus far was to serve some great purpose, but, in reality, you were ensnared by the trap he laid for you. You fell for the same charismatic visage that his past victims did. What gives you the right to be the one to survive it, to survive him? 

All of these feelings, recognitions, and memories assault you in the split second after Hannibal asks if you will kill him. Then your trigger finger twitches. The split second of contemplation does not go unnoticed—that fleeting moment is all it takes for him to spring into action. One moment, you’re staring at each other. The next, Hannibal is lunging at you. You just barely manage to dodge, throwing yourself to the side in a rather harsh movement that nearly sends you falling to the ground. In the blink of an eye, Hannibal holds a deceptively sharp antler, ripped from the decoration sitting in an open-faced exhibit case. The movement is fluid and performed with ease. Did he plan for this? Hannibal admitted that he didn’t know that you knew. The confidence in his frame as he encircles you tells a different story and you’re brutally reminded that he is a practiced killer. He has killed before; it’s foolish to think that you will escape with your life. 

Still, you do have an advantage. You’re likely the first of Hannibal’s victims to be prepared—to be armed with the knowledge that he is immensely dangerous. Therefore, you’re not taken off guard by Hannibal’s sudden assault (although you’re certainly disturbed by the smooth nature of his movements). You squint at the weapon in his hand, only to realize that it is a sharpened knife. The decoration must’ve encased a weapon within it. Even so, you’re holding a gun. It doesn’t take much thought to determine which weapon will win between a gun and a knife. 

Knowing this, you run a few paces towards the side and duck behind his desk. Your heart is racing in your chest but your hands are steady. You wait a moment before popping up and firing your gun. Somehow, you miss. The bullet just barely rips along the top of Hannibal’s shoulder, grazing the skin before rocketing into the wall in the distance. He hardly falters in his approach and you duck back for cover behind the desk. A second’s contemplation leads you to roll under the ample space under the desk and come back out on the other side. It’s a good thing you trusted your instincts, because as you move, Hannibal is leaping over the desk with ease. You stand up, only to find the desk creating a boundary between Hannibal and you. You point your gun at him, but he doesn’t stop moving. Startled, you fire another shot, only for the shot to hit his left shoulder again. Fuck. You try to reload, only to find that you have no more ammunition left. How did you forget to reload your pistol? You’re momentarily distracted by your self deprecating thoughts, so much so that you neglect to notice Hannibal approaching until he’s practically right on top of him. You drop the pistol and try to throw a punch, but Hannibal bends to the side and bodily throws you to the floor. 

Hannibal is quicker than you expect him to be. Before you can begin to get up, Hannibal is kneeling over you with his knife pointed down at you. Except… His knife isn’t pointed at your throat or heart. It’s hovering above your face and inching closer, closer, closer. You immediately put all your strength into pushing Hannibal’s grip away. Unfortunately, from your positioning, Hannibal has a momentum advantage. He exerts more force and the knife kisses your skin, cutting right through the scar you thought to be healing. You can’t stop the pained hiss that escapes your lips. The knife is nearly tracing the skin around your eye and you knee Hannibal in the gut, leaving you an opportunity to shove him off of you and get to your feet. 

Blood is dripping down your face now, coloring the left side of your vision a rosy pink. You wipe at the newly-opened scar with the back of your hand, slightly perturbed when you notice there’s enough blood to turn the top of your hand crimson. Adrenaline is the only thing keeping you upright, you think. Your heart is racing out of your chest as you stare at Hannibal. He stares back unflinchingly. You’re satisfied with the fact that his left shoulder is bleeding and that his clothes are rumpled. 

You’re circling one another—on the hunt once more. Who is the predator? Who is the prey? Who is the hunter? Who is the meal? Who is the murderer, who is the victim? Your lines are blurring together, creating a horrible haziness through which you can’t find where you end and where Hannibal begins. You don’t know how to feel about that, nor do you know how to feel about the man in front of you. 

“Do you truly wish to fight?” Hannibal asks, assessing you. There is nothing in his eyes except restraint, nothing on his face save for the mask he always wears over his emotions. You don’t know how to navigate this moment. You don’t know what to do, what to say, how to feel. Maybe you should have just shot him in the beginning. Perhaps then, you wouldn’t be agonizing over the past like you are now. 

You don’t answer his question. Hannibal’s lips tug into a slight smile, but it’s a dark and wry thing. The distance between you has never felt so little, and the feeling is only further compounded when Hannibal steps forward. Then he takes another step closer. And another. You’re certain your heartbeat shouldn’t be so loud in your ears, nor should your chest feel so tight. You’re staring death right in the eyes and meeting his shadowed scarlet gaze. 

Hannibal reaches out and you flinch. His hand slips to the nape of your neck and your skin prickles. For a moment, there is nothing between you except unnerving silence and unflinching eye contact. He looks as if he’s going to swallow you whole, ripping the skin and tissue from your form until you’re left a bony skeleton. You wonder if Hannibal can feel your pulse at your neck, hammering away in an attempt to warn you. Stay awake, you tell yourself. Stay alive.  

Hannibal pulls you toward him and you know you’re powerless. His eyes glitter in the low light and you can almost see the shadows pooling around him, threatening to encompass you in one fell swoop. You hardly have the chance to react before he’s tilting your head and pressing a kiss to your lips. The gesture is swift, but the pressure of his grip still digs into the junction of your shoulder. There’s a buzzing sound in your ears as you stare at Hannibal, the Chesapeake Ripper. Time seems to freeze as you’re left to cope with the sudden onslaught of feelings: apprehension, remorse, anticipation. There is an unspoken finality lingering in the air. 

Quick as lightning, Hannibal strikes. The knife in his hand catches the light and winks at you, before he smoothly stabs you in the side. You gasp at the blinding pain and Hannibal’s vice-like grip keeps its hold on you, forcing you to remain standing. Even so, you’re bending forward, trying to cope with the intense spasm rippling through your skin. Hannibal places a hand on the back of your head and pulls you into his chest. You don’t have the strength to do anything, leaving you entirely pliant in his arms. His hand slides to the nape of your neck again and it feels as if he’s cradling you. His other hand grips your shoulder with bruising fervor, digging into the skin and ripping through the bone to send shivers down your spine. Hannibal is flaying you apart in his arms, picking through your skin to find the precious organs for his meal. You take a shuddering breath in, thrown off by the chill spreading across your body. You’ve never been so cold. 

Any remaining strength promptly seeps out of your limbs, and even Hannibal’s grip isn’t enough to stop you from falling to the ground. Blood escapes from your abdomen, dripping down your skin and coloring your shirt with an expanding crimson stain. You try to keep yourself sitting up and shoot out a hand to brace yourself against the floor. It’s nearly impossible to pick out any thoughts from the rushing in your ears and the pain crawling up your side. Despite these overwhelming stimuli, you still see Hannibal crouching down from the corner of your eye. He places a hand behind your neck and guides you to lie on the floor. There is kindness in the gentle manner with which he lays you to rest, yet all you glean from the gesture is smug brutality and victorious pretense. 

“Alea iacta est,” Hannibal murmurs, looking down at you. It takes a few seconds for your pain-hazed mind to recognize the Latin phrase and another moment to translate it: The die has been cast.

It is clear that Hannibal is not anticipating a response from you and, truly, you have nothing to say. There is no word that will ever describe the confusing maelstrom of betrayal, anger, and self-loathing rushing through you as you slowly approach death. Your fingers twitch with the desperate, visceral need to do something. Your vision is swirling around you, until Hannibal is nothing more than a blurred visage in your eyes.  

Suddenly, there’s a hand on your cheek. A thumb wipes the fluid—blood or tears, you’re not sure—from your left eye. You’re so disconnected that your eyes don’t even flutter at the close contact. The Chesapeake Ripper’s face hovers above you for another moment, as if he’s looking for something, before he gets to his feet. He makes his escape, leaving you to the wreckage.

You fade away slowly. Looking up to the ceiling of Hannibal’s luxurious office, a bubbling laugh crawls its way out your throat. The familiar coppery, metallic taste of blood sits on your tongue. You’re going to die, you realize. You idly wonder who will find your body. It may take a little while for anyone to realize you’re missing. Perhaps Jack will be the one to trace your phone’s signal and find your corpse in the office of Dr. Lecter. You can already see the tight pull to his lips, the determination stitching his form together. Beverly, Jack, Alana… All of them will move on from your death. It won’t take them long, you think. Dying in the field isn’t a rarity. A peaceful, quiet death is a luxury afforded to very few agents at the Bureau—and it’s a luxury you don’t think you quite deserve. No, this is a fitting end for someone like you. 

Memories flash before your eyes. You had so many close calls, dodged death so many times that you began to think yourself immune. You survived Gideon. You survived countless sessions with Dr. Lecter. You survived Garret Jacob Hobbs. Yet now, as you lie on the floor of Hannibal’s office, you are forced to come to terms with your own mortality. You will not escape this encounter unscathed. 

The blood leaking from your side is beginning to pool on the floor next to you and the sight sends your vision into a dizzying spiral of colors. You let your head fall back against the ground and close your eyes, trying to calm the patterns racing before you. There’s a bone-deep exhaustion settling in your chest, beckoning you closer by the moment. Shadows are pulling the curtains across your vision and, despite your best efforts at resistance, your world soon fades to black.

next chapter (final chapter of Act One)

“The conscious deceives the unconscious” is a direct quote from Celeste’s speech at the end of Chapter 3 in Danganronpa. Her whole dialogue is: “Are you asking me to feel guilty? That’s a pointless endeavor. I think nothing of sacrificing others for my own ends. I feel nothing. That’s all there is to me. That’s what makes me… complete.” and then: “Hmph. My ability to lie is unrivaled, and I take pride in that. It’s not just other people—I can even fool my own emotions. The conscious deceives the unconscious.” I couldn’t fit that entire thing in the text obviously, but I like it, so I’m throwing it here. Y’all know me… if I like something, I will throw quotes anywhere I see fit. I’m annoying like that. 

I changed Hannibal’s desk, yes. We’re going to pretend that it’s the same one as in canon, except with more room under it—so that it has enough space for the reader to duck, roll under it, and come out on the other side of it without hurting himself.

“Stay awake, you tell yourself. Stay alive,” is a direct callback to the first chapter. If only the reader knew how far he would come… 

Rationalization for the reader’s behavior and the fight, if you’re interested…: The reader is both intimately aware of the danger of Hannibal Lecter, while also being overconfident about his abilities and the evidence of his survival so far. Furthermore, he consistently characterizes the Ripper as a separate entity from Hannibal, which shows how much he struggles to connect the two as the same individual. By separating the Ripper from Hannibal, he excuses Hannibal’s actions and only attributes responsibility for criminality to the Ripper. The reader’s continued relationship with Hannibal and his subsequent hesitation to wound him in this chapter are both manifestations of this “othering” and focused displacement. Since the reader has the two separated in his mind’s eye, he is unable to connect the Hannibal in front of him with the Ripper. This also overpowers his perception of Hannibal, to the point where the memories they’ve made together dominate over any of the reasonable doubt, fear, and guilt that should be dominating his psyche. It isn’t until the reader is faced with direct evidence (*cough, cough*) that he is able to connect the dots and truly see Hannibal as the Ripper. 

Ultimately, Hannibal & the reader’s relationship is different from Hannibal & Will’s relationship. I’m realizing now that this reader is definitely more on the morally grey side of things. Will’s perception of Hannibal was largely motivated by an unexplained feeling of suspicion—Will wasn’t quite able to pin down that feeling until later on. The reader, on the other hand, has known from the beginning of the story that Hannibal is the Ripper. This knowledge, in layman’s terms, fucks with his head. Hence, the climax of Hannibal & the reader’s encounter is noticeably different from Hannibal & Will’s encounter. Hannibal knows Will can and will turn him in, and he sees Will’s brief hesitation to join Abigail and him as a violation to their trust. On the other hand, Hannibal is unsure about the reader for a moment, because of the new context that his knowledge provides on their interactions. The reader could have left the moment he knew, but he didn’t—and this *briefly* sways Hannibal.

There are a number of different answers for the question of Hannibal’s motivations in stabbing the reader. One could argue that this conflict was motivated by Hannibal’s frustration at the thought of the reader knowing something and not telling him; from what I’ve gleaned of Hannibal, he thinks knowledge is power. He could be “betrayed” at the reader’s confirmation that he knew the entire time. It could also be argued that Hannibal isn’t the least bit accustomed to the feelings the reader incites within him and, therefore, decides to kill him instead of attempting to untangle the giant webbed mess of his conflicting feelings for the reader. I think it’s also somewhat reasonable to say that Hannibal isn’t used to the thought of someone knowing his true nature and simply went on the defensive before the reader could kill him (a sort of black-and-white mindset, like “I’ll kill you before you can kill me”). Lastly, if you want to look at this chapter in a more metaphorical sense, you could say that killing the reader is Hannibal’s method of forgetting his past as he “moves on” with his life as a wanted fugitive (since the FBI will be after him soon enough). There are more reasons that you could attribute to Hannibal’s actions in this chapter, but these are the few that immediately stuck out to me. 

Chapter 16 (next chapter) will be the last chapter of Act 1. I originally said this was supposed to be the last chapter, but I’m a liar. Sigh. 

hannibal taglist: @its-ares @tobbotobbs @xrisdoesntexist @gr1mmac3 @tiredstarcerberuslamb @yourlocalratwriter @kingkoku @kahuunknown @atlas-king1 @pendragon-writes @slipknotcentury @cryinersaved @the-ultimate-librarian @starre-eyes @pendragon-writes @peterparkeeperer

[kudzuoath]

Breath and Omniscience

Temperance goes down in battle. Gale doesn’t take it well. 

cw: for blood, injuries, possibly body horror? I don't think I'm particularly graphic but I'm warning you just in case.

–--

I miscalculated, is all he can think. I know that spell. I know it. But I miscalculated.

He spotted the enemy sorcerer’s familiar movements and knew the spell immediately. Had known exactly how much power to imbue his counter with.

Only he’d been wrong.

Temperance lay face down in a pool of her own blood and melting shards of ice. She wasn’t moving. He couldn’t tell if she was breathing.

“Either help her or do something useful, wizard, this battle isn’t done yet!”

Jaheira. Tearing past him, blood running down the side of her face, sabres slick with gore. All of them were hurting. They were used to Temperance taking point and drawing fire – but Jaheira was the next best thing with their paladin down. With an explosion of feathers and a piercing shriek, she proved it by shifting into an owlbear and savaging the enemy barbarian.

Gale only had eyes for the sorcerer across the way. Temperance was still surrounded. If he tried to help her now, they’d both go down. It still took something vital from him to leave her laying there.

It wasn't cowardice, but rationality.

He hated himself for thinking logically anyway. His hands itched to lay on her and find her pulse. To prove life.

No, he couldn’t run to her.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t make the bastards bleed.

Or rather, burn.

Gale didn’t tug at the weave so much as tear at it, teeth barred and fingers rigid claws as he spun a mote of fire into a raging maelstrom. The sorcerer’s scream when the world exploded around him did nothing to assuage Gale’s thundering heartbeat, or the cold chill of terror slinking down his spine.

She cannot die. I won’t allow it.

He had no spells of healing. And little knowledge of it. He’d rarely found cause to regret that fact. Until now.

His hands blurred. His throat went raw. His typically meticulous composition of the weave burning him as the spells slipped through his fingers and out into the world. Inflicting the bane of any element he could muster upon their worthless hides.

Temperance, Temperance, Temperance, don’t be dead.

The rest of the fight blurred. It might have lasted seconds. It might have lasted hours – though that wasn’t likely. All he knew was the second their last enemy fell he was running. Shoving bodies off of his Paladin with a strength he didn’t know he had. His feet slid through the mud made from Temperance’s blood, and the spell that took her down. The scent of it hung sharp and copper in the air. And when he saw her face – too pale, too still, his fingers went numb.

“Now is no time to die,” he chastised. His own voice felt distant.

Jaheira knelt beside him. Without speaking she reached through the cradle of his arms and laid softly glowing hands on the wound in Temperance’s chest.

“That is a lot of blood,” Astarion commented.

Gale noted with the same distant way he noted everything at the moment how far away the vampire sounded.

Good. Good of him to keep his distance now.

“Come on little hero, get up,” Jaheira muttered. The glow grew brighter. He could see the threads of the weave thickening into small rivers of magic as the druid pumped more energy into the spell.

Temperance’s eyes flickered. The bubbling wheezing quality of her breath lessened. And something horrible gnawing at his heart unstuck its teeth.

“Temperance?”

She groaned and weakly flapped her hand until it landed on one of his arms. “Hate… fainting,” she mumbled.

“Ha! You did something little more dramatic than a mere faint,” Jeheira said. “I think you almost caused your Gale a breakdown.”

His paladin mumbled something he couldn’t decipher, a stream of disjointed syllables that might well have been infernal. Then she cracked one eye – the purple one – to look at him. A dazed smile crossed her face.

“‘Lo, Gale.”

Her lips were blue. And she was a tiefling with a typically human skin tone.

"Temperance," he said, voice breaking.

Jaheira stood. She said… something not particularly important to Astarion like ‘give them a moment’ and then both rogue and druid were. Elsewhere. Not important. Gale could only stare. His hand – trembling, he realized – went to her face. He tried to wipe away some of the blood. All he managed was to smear it around a little.

“I don’t think my heart can take you doing that again,” he said. And even these words felt too distant, too far away. There was a roaring in his ears like the sea in a tempest. “Please… don’t… don’t do that again.”

Temperance reached for him like her arms weighed two hundred pounds. It took her a try or two before her hands landed in his hair. Rougher than she likely meant to, she pulled him down into a kiss.

It tasted of blood, and he mostly missed her lips with her shoddy aim. And when he found those lips with his, they were still too cold. It took everything in him not to crush her against him. She was still hurt. They needed to get her to Shadowheart, to camp, to rest.

“You’re alive,” he murmured against her skin. Over and over. Lips brushing her forehead, her temple, the end of her nose.

And she seemed to be trying to comfort him. Her hands must have woken at some point, for now he became aware of her fingers carding through his hair.

“I’m alive,” she agreed hoarsely. Then with a touch of sternness – “Gale… breathe. If you pass out… on top of me right now… I don’t think I can move you.”

His laugh ripped out of him. He buried his head in her neck, breathing in the bloody scent of her. Under the copper were the familiar scents of leather, and something herbal and minty from the soap she used. It grounded his panicked heart still further to find her skin warming here.

Temperance hooked her arms around him in a hug.

“Breathe,” she admonished again. “Come on, Gale of Waterdeep. It’s the easiest thing in the world – breathe.”

This laugh sounded a little less mad. And the shake to his limbs was starting to settle.

“I am… so sorry. I am so sorry. I thought I had that spell. I thought I knew –”

She shifted, finding his face with hers. Pressed their foreheads together. Later he’d realize how distressingly sticky it was, from all the blood. At least they were right by a water source. Even if it was probably salted.

“You’re not omniscient,” she scolded. “You didn’t cast it.”

Not omniscient, no. Not yet.

But he could be.

The idea was not a new one. He couldn’t say it was stronger than it had been before either – but the pale, bloodless face of Temperance was certainly adding fuel to the fire that had lit inside him shortly after he chose life over forgiveness.

He closed his eyes, and leaned into her touch.

“I promise you, I will do better,” he said. “Be better.”

Be who she deserved.

Her chilly hand on his cheek. Black claw points pressing into his skin just slightly, just enough to get his attention.

Temperance’s eyes weren’t clear exactly, but she was looking at him with a fierce stubbornness he’d come to recognize. And with so much warmth below all that worry. Her knit brow, her half smile.

“I understand.” And she would, wouldn’t she? There’d been times where she was the last one fighting.

Never again.

He was never letting that happen again.

[let-us-cultivate-our-garden]

I guess it's different with Belos because of what he represents. Characters like Vader or Palpatine are more abstract. Belos represents corrupt religious leaders, abusive authority figures, bigotry, colonialism..etc, he's more down-to-earth. Ironically, the more realistic villains are the ones that need to be dehumanized in order to make sure the audience knows the writer doesn't condone them. In real life, most bad people are the product of shitty upbringings, but in fiction, it's becoming taboo to say they didn't manifest as horrible old people, or weren't destined to be evil from birth no matter how they were raised.

So, I think it's rather funny that Belos represents all of these real world issues, which means we can't get into his backstory otherwise the audience will think the writers actually sympathize with real world bigotry.

Vader and Palpatine represent fascism and the Empire is a literal dictatorship, and we had a whole prequel trilogy explaining how Anakin became Darth Vader. And no one worried whether George Lucas was a fascist sympathizer or not.

Authors can reveal their political ideologies and bigotry through their writing but it's not usually because they humanized their villain; it's usually because they used the tragic backstory to justify the character's actions. There's a clear difference between exploring a character's past to see how they got there and use that as a warning for the audience versus simply excusing them.

Good writers are able to take even the most realistic, down-to-earth villain and show their humanity without ever excusing their actions. It just takes more time and attention to the story and characters.

Also, Belos may represent colonialism, bigotry, etc. but it is extremely surface level in terms of world-building and characterization. When people talk about how much they hate Belos, they usually always bring up Hunter first because abusive parents in media are more triggering for the general audience. So in terms of what they represent, Belos and Darth Vader are both abstract--little kids aren't going to pick up on the larger themes but they will react to Belos hurting Hunter or Vader killing Obi-Wan.

As for the last part of your comment, I'm rather confused; what do you mean that it is becoming taboo to say that villains aren't born evil? Because that sounds like a rather online argument; most people in the general audience don't fret if a movie or TV show explores the villain's past--especially if they're already setting it up. It's only in fandom circles for kid's shows where I hear people being "worried" that the show will redeem the Big Bad or give them a tragic backstory (which few shows actually do but that's another topic of conversation).

Bottom of the line, Belos is not special or unique. A lot of movies and tv shows typically use their villain as a stand-in for a real world issues or show them being shitty parents but most people don't freak out about whether liking that character or not means you support them.

I think Belos gets so much hate because he does not have any good traits or even flashy, entertaining qualities to balance out the evil that he does. We're also in this weird zeitgeist where kid show fandoms have this neurosis about whether or not it's appropriate to like a villain because of what they represent or whatever. It's tiring.

[sweetiesicheng]

_world

debut journey - 02

word count : 2,217

warnings : mentions of eating, misaki’s sleep schedule is horrible

author note : this is pretty similar to my band mate writing i did awhile ago but that was my inspiration for this story!

previous : debut journey - 01

next : debut journey - 03

—

it's late...

oh, it's really late.

you stare at the time on your phone and decide that it's finally time to go home for the night. you disconnect your phone from the sound system and make sure everything is off before leaving the practice room.

speakers. lights. have my bag. good!

once you're outside, you sigh from how tired you are. you're used to the long hours, so seeing stars instead of the blue sky was normal. today, you had been rehearsing a solo piece for the first comeback stage.

on your way home, you check your phone and notice a bunch of texts from the guys. some of them are in the group chat, and a few of them are from individual members and managers. you decide to wait to text them back but take note of the ones telling you to go home and sleep. most of them were sent hours ago with the last one coming in a little past one o'clock from woozi, who had been working late at the company building too.

he must've passed by and heard the song playing...

after awhile, you make it back to the dorm building and use the elevator to go up to the floor you live on. then, you reach the front door and unlock it, immediately noticing that the lights are on.

did i leave the lights on? someone's probably just spending the night here.

you go inside and lock the door behind you before taking your coat off. you hang your coat on the small coat rack and take your shoes off. then, you go into the living room and notice a familiar face sitting on the couch.

hm?

s.coups sits on the couch with a hoodie on. the hood is scrunched up tight from the drawstring being pulled, and he has his hands in the pocket.

"you're here?" you immediately ask.

the leader opens his eyes and turns his head a bit to look over at you. he nods his head and stretches out the hood of his hoodie so he can bring it down, revealing his recently dyed, messy hair.

"well, i stopped by thinking you'd come home at a decent time, but you didn't. you didn't text any of us saying what time you'll be back. i knew you'd be back late, but i expected you back earlier since you have practice all day tomorrow too," he explains, scolding you underneath his calm words. "did you eat?" he asks.

you nod your head and join him on the couch.

"i'm so tired," you mention, laying down with your head on s.coups's lap.

"but all of your effort is gonna lead to one hell of a debut," s.coups replies. you smile in response.

"when did woozi go home? i thought he would've been working still, but i peeked in and no one was inside," you ask, knowing that he usually works late just like you. "i think he passed by the practice room but didn't come in," you add.

"he probably has a schedule before practice, so maybe he figured he should get some sleep for once. he texted me asking why you were still practicing," s.coups answers. "you should go to sleep too."

"but i didn't get to see any of you guys besides from this morning. i get lonely you know," you say in almost a complaining tone, leaving him to chuckle in response. "maybe i should move in with seungkwan and jeonghan..."

"you and your quality time," he says with another chuckle. “you can just admit that you’re lonely.”

"oh shut up," you say to him and sit back up.

"hey, call me next time if you're practicing late. i'll pick you up, okay? it's too late for you to be walking around, especially with you being in the group now," he says to you. you nod your head. "get some sleep. you need it."

—

"misaki! hurry up, i'm leaving without you in fifteen minutes," you hear s.coups speak from the hallway.

you turn around and open the door to see s.coups standing there. he's wearing the same clothes he was wearing last night.

"oh, stay still," he says with a smile, "i'm taking a picture of you." he takes his phone out and you stand still so he can take a photo. it makes you wonder how ridiculous you look with a tooth bruh in your mouth and alligator clips in your hair.

"you're welcome," you manage to mumble before turning to spit and rinse.

"i need to stop by my place to change," s.coups says to you.

"you don't have spare clothes here?" you ask, knowing that some of the guys, including ones who never lived in the apartment originally, left clothes just in case they wanted to stay the night in your dorm.

"i thought i did, but i only have pajamas in my old room," he replies. "alright, hurry up," he says and closes the door.

"don't rush me!"

you finish getting ready before going into the kitchen, where s.coups is mixing hot coffee in a thermos.

"here, this is yours. i filled your water bottle up for you too," s.coups says as he screws the lid of your thermos on.

"what are you? my mom?"

"no, jeonghan is. maybe you should move in with him and seungkwan."

"hey, i'm a capable person to live on my own. you're just bossing me around because you're older."

"and i'll use my privileges for the rest of our lives. now, let's go."

the two of you leave the dorm and drive to s.coups's apartment. while at his apartment, you got to play with kkuma for a little bit before his brother took her out for a walk.

afterwards, s.coups drove to hybe. you went to one of the bigger practice rooms, where the8 was waiting.

"oh, are you practicing with me?" you ask when you walk in with s.coups.

"yea, my schedule got cancelled," the8 explains. "coups, wanna dance with us?" he asks.

"i'll let you two do the cool dancing for now," s.coups says and sits down on the floor.

you start rehearsing your solo stage for the comeback. the8 carefully watches you, and you even notice s.coups watching you. "watch your arms here," the8 comments while watching you dance. he had helped choreograph your solo with you since you were nervous to do it by yourself. "make it more soft. you're being too sharp," he continues, "softer. you know the details, just go with it."

once the song ends, you move to be farther back in the room and listen to the8's corrections. you continue practicing with the8 watching you; him dancing along to the parts he knew for fun.

at some point, all of the guys start trickling into the practice room, meaning that it was almost time for the second rehearsal. you still continue practicing, nervous about accidentally messing up in front of everyone else. you mark a few things, mainly the few tricks you had since you didn't want to wear yourself out before the next rehearsal started.

"woah! look at misaki go!" hoshi comments when the song ends, "our newest performance team member is amazing!"

you smile while taking deep breaths, having your hands on the back of your head as you take a breather.

"hey, drink some water," woozi says to you, grabbing your water bottle off of the ground and bringing it over to you.

"thank you," you reply and move your hands to take your bottle from woozi. woozi nods and returns to where he had put his phone down. you take a sip of water and hear one of the other songs from the mini album start playing. looking through the mirror, you notice mingyu and dk at the sound system together.

"hey, this part?" the8 speaks up while moving his arm to show a move, "try doing this instead with both arms," he suggests, demonstrating the move differently.

you close your water bottle and put it on the floor. then, you try the move out and the8 nods.

"i think that would look better," he says and you nod in agreement.

"yea, i think you're right," you reply as you stare at yourself in the mirror.

the8 continues giving you some notes and you practice a bit more before the second rehearsal starts.

—

"like this?" you ask hoshi, who is helping you with a part of the choreography for the title track performance.

"yea, and then turn this way and move," he says, demonstrating the next move. you follow him. "good," he says with a smile. "you're doing really good," he compliments before suddenly hugging you and messing up your hair.

"hoshi!" you laugh as he continues messing around with you. "stop it!" you exclaim while laughing.

then, you are pulled away from someone, and that someone is jun. "is hoshi being annoying again?" he asks you.

"yes."

"hey! misaki!" hoshi yells at you, making you laugh. "come on, you need to learn this part," he says, changing his demeanor.

"but this part is still weird to me," you say to him, demonstrating the part you were talking about. "see?"

"well, you're doing it right. you just look a little...weird," he comments before looking around the room, "dino! come here!" he calls out.

"huh? what?" dino asks from across the room. he puts his phone down and starts walking over. "what's up?"

"how can we make misaki look less weird for this part?" hoshi asks, showing the move off again.

"that part? misaki, do it," dino says to you as he stops next to jun, who is also observing you.

you do the move and the three of them stare at you. you face the mirror and try fixing it yourself as dino watches you.

"ah! do this," dino suddenly speaks up and slowly demonstrates. you follow him but at a faster pace. he shakes his head, "no, go slow. you’re making it too messy when you dance it at the right tempo.”

you slowly do the move, and dino nods his head this time.

"that part is really weird though," jun comments, "cause then we have this part too," he says while doing the next moves.

"we can talk to hyung about it when he comes back. he probably noticed it too," hoshi says to all of you.

—

once rehearsal with all of the backup dancers is over, you sit on the floor with your back against one of the mirrors. you keep your eyes closed and notice that you are getting really tired.

"misaki? come eat with us," you hear s.coups call for you. you nod your head in response but don't make any effort to move.

"should we let her sleep?" you hear mingyu ask, "think she needs a nap."

"if she sleeps, then she's not gonna sleep later," s.coups replies. "her sleep schedule is all over the place right now too with how much she's been practicing," he adds.

"did she come home late?" joshua asks out of curiosity.

"i left here after one o'clock, and she was still in the practice room," woozi mentions.

"i stayed at the dorm last night. it was like after three when she came home. she was tired then too," s.coups answers, "but she's been rehearsing day and night for everything."

you hear the guys talk at a lower volume while eating dinner that all of you had ordered earlier. you're hungry, but right now you're even more tired.

"misaki, here."

you manage to open your eyes when you hear jeonghan's voice. he stands in front of you before sitting down with a takeout container of food in his hand.

"come on, eat," he instructs, holding the container out to you. you take the chopsticks that are in jeonghan's other hand and start eating.

eventually, jeonghan stops holding the container, so you hold it instead. he stands back up and walks back to where he left his food but returns to sit next to you. after you finish eating, you lay down on the floor next to jeonghan and close your eyes.

"can you stay up a little longer? we're probably gonna go home soon," jeonghan asks you, trying to keep you awake. he has his hand running through parts of your hair, which makes you even sleepier.

"sleepy..." you mumble to him.

all of a sudden, you feel water being poured on your head and immediately sit up. you notice vernon and seungkwan standing in front of you, both of them holding water bottles.

"what the hell?" you mutter. "i'm being bullied again," you announce and notice everyone looking at you.

"we aren't bullying you," seungkwan says, "just playing around. right vernon?"

"yea, just fooling around," vernon replies before drinking some water from the bottle in his hands.

"that was just cruel," dk speaks up while laughing, "but i'd so do that too!"

"then stop laughing with them!" you whine. wonwoo gets up and walks over to you, placing a towel that he has on top of your head. "thank you," you say to him.

"mhm," he smiles with a chuckle. "we can get them back later. it'll be fun," he says in a whisper. you smile before nodding back in response.

—

previous : debut journey - 01

next : debut journey - 03

back to series masterlist

[controversycentral]

Effective altruism is, at its most basic level, evidence-based charity. Sure, some people in the community have all kinds of radical speculative ideas, but the basic premise seems worth keeping.

Removing all forms of pain is a terrible idea, because pain is a crucial warning signal necessary for preventing injury. Future people will hopefully still jerk back their hands after touching a hot stove. Improving everyone's quality of life will almost certainly never involve removing all forms of pain. Removing horrible and never-wanted diseases like dementia, on the other hand…

You are correct that redesigning nature to thrive without predation and violence would take a very, very long time to pull off without making things much worse. I doubt that humanity could make any progress towards that in the next century. Terraforming is hard, as it turns out. We should not try to fundamentally redesign nature until we at least know we can do it without jeopardizing the biosphere. Maybe we can wait until after we fix climate change…which, at this rate, will take centuries.

More thoughts below the break.

Simply destroying an ecosystem and everything in it would contradict the entire point of redesigning nature: compassion. Nature is a “Darwinian House of Horrors” because of how horrible it is to its inhabitants. Someday it would be great if we could free (at least some) nonhumans from the horrifying levels of arbitrary suffering that are ubiquitous in their “natural” lives. Improving their quality of life would eventually require fundamentally changing ecosystems, but right now I don't think we reasonably could try to change much.

Aging is a disease by any reasonable definition. Curing it will heal an unimaginable amount of suffering. Hopefully it would also prevent horrible age-related diseases, especially dementia. The only reason we haven't cured aging yet is because of its extreme difficulty. Once we find a (safe) cure for aging, that cure should be given to everyone who wants it. The only objections that come to mind are (a) the possibility of unequal access to the cure, and (b) fascist talking points like "overpopulation."

Genetic engineering should not be used to “cure” neurodivergence. Instead, we should only (offer to) “cure” aspects that neurodivergent people don't want. For example, my understanding is that nearly everyone with ADHD hates having executive dysfunction. So at a bare minimum, neurodivergent people should have the option to cure their executive dysfunction once a cure exists. Preventing executive dysfunction by using germline engineering seems more ethically questionable due to consent issues, but I suspect it's still reasonable to consider.

Eradicating the capacity for cruelty in humans sounds based as fuck. By "cruelty" here I primarily mean sadism as well as xenophobia and other forms of bigotry against marginalized people. We should at least try to reduce those kinds of cruelty in wealthy and powerful people.

I have to say it does make me really depressed and even more worried for the future that any human being is actually capable of thinking we should eliminate all forms of violence from all wild animal species. The first time I saw someone saying this I thought they were satirizing PETA or something, inventing an extreme conclusion to animal rights as a joke. Now I know it's a real philosophical movement increasingly popular with a bunch of rich tech people who go around giving speeches at universities about how we should just flood the natural world with GMO's to try and "herbivorize predators," wipe out all parasites, cure all disease, eliminate aging and remove just all forms of pain or even competition from all ecosystems. "But that will just DESTROY those ecosystems" you say. Yeah they know and they want that too. They call nature things like "The Darwinian House of Horrors" and dream of a future where the entire planet is a tightly controlled, deathless biotech zoo. "But we shouldn't worry because that's impossible anyway" yes, yes it is, but it's entirely possible to release genetically altered organisms into the wild and these people already talk about "starting small" with CRISPR experimentation. There's already corporations testing GM mosquitoes that can't bite anymore. As soon as any of these fuckoffs get access to enough money and backing they're going to attempt that with an eagle or a shark or a big cat, and they're probably going to find out the hard way that their idea won't work the way they want it to but in the meantime they'll quite possibly cause an extinction or two, and then they're going to just keep trying it again. This is in their little ted talks and thinkpieces. They think everything's already doomed anyway and that if they accidentally wipe out a species it just won't matter because extinctions are natural and at least that species is no longer suffering. They call their movement things like "compassionate biology" and "effective altruism," in case you're wondering what to look out for. They've got all sorts of web communities for it, like this one. but before you go thinking they're just animal rights fanatics, DON'T WORRY! They do in fact include humans in their plans! They think gene editing should also be put towards the eradication of all disability, neurodivergence, or maybe even "capacity for cruelty" in humans! They sit around wanking all day about their eugenicist dream zombie utopia :) :) :) did I mention lots of them are actually rich with actual corporate and academic connections lololol

[jaylaxies]

PLEASURE PRINCIPLES

PAIRING : masseur!jay x fem!reader

GENRE : smut, unprotected sex (use protection y'all), fingering, use of word 'madam', jay being a gentleman, strangers to fwb, semi-public sex.

SYNOPSIS : after a long and stressful year of university, your friend convinces you to get a massage, letting you know how good their services are. you agree and gave it a try, not knowing that the massage you'll get will be life changing.

WC : 2.5k words

WARNING : 18+ content, minors dni.

A/N : hihi! aaa i can't believe i have 2k of y'all now <3 i wanted to write this concept for so long and it's finally here now as a thank you to y'all for supporting me this far! i hope y'all enjoy it :D all likes, reblogs, comments and feedbacks are highly appreciated ᥫ᭡

dishevelled hair, dark eyes bags and a small frown plastered upon your face. that's what your mirror reflected back at you, the frown soon turning into a pout. university has been horrible to you, constant exams and myriad of assignments left no time for you to take care of yourself and it clearly showed.

so when the exams finally did end a day before yesterday, all you did was–sleep, waking up only to order food from your favourite restaurant and eating while gushing about your new idol crushes, only to go back to sleep again.

'uni is all fun and parties' your older friends had told you while you were in highschool. "a bunch of liars." you rolled your eyes, trying to understand if the person in the mirror was actually you.

your ringtone snapped you out of your self-staring session. you picked it up without checking the caller id, knowing there's only one person who'd call you.

"hey, yeji." you greeted, no zeal in your voice.

"y/n! why do you sound so–" she paused, "lifeless?" she wondered out loud.

"the question is, how are you so energetic after those hell of exams?" you groaned, throwing yourself on the bed again.

"please don't tell me you've been sleeping ever since exams finished?" she asked, well knowing that it's exactly what you did.

guilty, you just shrugged your shoulders, forgetting that she won't be able to see it. the silence said it all and yeji sighed, changing the topic.

"i got a massage from the spa shop that opened recently." she squealed, always excited about self pampering.

"the one everyone's been gushing about on campus?" you asked, your eyebrow perking up on its own. yeji nodded as if you could see her.

"it's called luscious lather! it's as fancy as the name suggests. that place is so fucking cool, i could get weekly massages there!" she spoke all too fast and you were sure she was smiling from the way she spoke.

weekly massages? it sounded tiring to you, the same thing happening over and over again? what would be so amazing about it?

she continued before you could reply, "they gave me a coupon to use for my next visit—which i'll be giving to you, i bet you look no less than a zombie right now and that massage is all you need to be my angel y/n again!" she finalized.

"wait–" your eyes widened at the sudden situation.

"i'm sending you the e-coupon right away and fixing an appointment for you, be there at 3pm tomorrow!" she screamed before hanging up. typical yeji, you thought, smiling at her antics.

a massage didn't sound so bad considering how stiff your body had become at such an early age. maybe you should have exercised a bit more.

you grabbed your laptop, trying to search for the said spa. several images popped up, it looked modernly royal, the perfect aesthetic for you.

as per the photos, it had a big reception area and different rooms for each kind of package/deal. the last pic however grabbed your attention the most; the staff. each of them looked stunning, this is probably why the spa is talk of the town.

one of them stood out to you, his jawline being too sharp to ignore. strong jaw structure and deep brown eyes, that's all you could see by zooming in the low quality picture.

a text 'ding' brought you back to reality, you had stared at the attractive stranger for a bit too long. the notification was of yeji, she had sent the coupons.

yeji ᥫ᭡ :

*attached image*

have fun tmrw bb ;)

me :

will do, thank you babe ;)

the wink emoticon was confusing to say the least, it was just a massage after all, wasn't it? without much ponder, you decided to sleep yet again, a better way to skip time till tomorrow. your tired body gladly accepted the rest, going into a deep slumber in just a few minutes.

•••••

2:45 pm, you were standing in front the huge spa. the plot being bigger than what you had initially expected. the automated doors slid open, a gush of cold air hitting your face in the bliss. you could sense the change in your surroundings, dark counters and plush sheets indicating how posh it was.

the aroma screamed luxury and serenity, you walked over to the receptionist, a young lady with her hair tied up in the most perfect ponytail you've ever come across.

"hello ma'am! how may i help you today?" she questioned, a smile plastered onto her face which screamed business.

"hello, i've got a massage appointment under the name of y/n, please." you smiled back at her.

a few seconds of her checking and soon, you were being guided into one of the massage rooms by a guy with the prettiest moles on his face, you assumed he'd be the one who's assigned for your massage.

"you can change here, madam, your masseur will be here shortly." he handed you a single towel, showing you the way of changing room and leaving after flashing you a beautiful smile.

you were a bit disappointed that he wasn't your masseur but you looked forward to who it was now. you stripped down and wrapped the towel around you, sitting down on the sofa near the spa bed and scrolling through your phone as you waited.

a knock made you aware that your masseur was here. you softly said 'come in' and the door opened, revealing a tall man. the same man you saw in photos yesterday to be more precise.

"welcome to luscious lather, madam. i'm jay and i'll be your masseur today." he spoke in his low, deep voice.

you smiled at him for his honorific filled tone, thanking him with your expressions. you took a moment to take his appearance in as he took out all oils and towels he needed for the activity.

his jawline was sharp as you saw in the blurry photo, his face ethereal as if he was carved by gods themselves. your stare wasn't subtle which caused jay's lip to twitch from the corner.

he came closer to you, "you can lay down now, miss." he spoke, his mere voice sending shivers down your spine. you were in trouble and you knew it.

a sudden awareness struck your mind, you had to be naked in front of this attractive man, and he had to touch you. the basics of massage, right? but why were you so scared?

you laid down, still in your towel which had to be removed for further continuation. jay gently removed your towel, leaving you naked and your cheeks flushed. you noticed how his eyes lingered for a second too long on your body before he covered your breasts and pelvic region with two neatly half folded towels, barely hiding your intimate areas.

you tried to focus on the soft music and the faint aroma in the room but no avail, your eyes kept flickering back to jay. even in his plain white t-shirt, he looked attractive. he placed a rolled towel under your head to support you. soon, he poured oil on your shoulders, spreading it by softly massaging that area.

his touch was soothing yet powerful enough for your muscles to relax, all your knots started to open up, as his fingers digging into your skin pleasurably. you noticed a small pout on his face as he concentrated on his given work.

soon, his hands moved from your shoulders near your neck, gently massaging your sensitive clavicle, moving down to your boobs, but never once touching them. it was like all your workload suddenly went south, your body finally losing months of pent up tension. it went on for a good few minutes, all your knots opening up one by one, sending your body into bliss, you never knew you needed this.

you sighed, content with jay's large hands working on your body. he stopped to gather more warm oil in his hands, going down and massaging your thighs, now, kneading your flesh with expertise.

midst of his work, jay couldn't help but focus on how sensitive your body was. he worked on your inner thighs, the squeezes turning you on, making you close your legs to the maximum amount possible. jay noticed that. despite maintaining his decorum and professionalism, he couldn't abstain but imagine how your body would shiver against his.

biting his lip, he spread your legs, to massage further, of course. your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him near your cunt, fingers digging painfully close to your wetness, making you hiss out a curse.

"everything alright, madame?" he asked, a subtle smirk plastered on his devilishly attractive face.

"yeah! of course!" your eyes flew open, not expecting a question, voice suddenly high pitched. safe to say, you were embarrassed, but at the same time, you never wanted this feeling to end.

his dark eyes pierced into yours, as he continued to move his hand, so close but not once touching your now throbbing core. he hadn't even done anything and yet you were pathetically clenching around nothing. your breathing sped up, and before you knew it, a whimper left your mouth.

your eyes widened to see jay fully smirking now, biting his lip alongside. your body shivered under his touch, as he poured oil on your pussy, removing the barely there towel, leaving your lower body naked.

you weren't sure if this was included in your package but you were willing to take anything this man had to offer you. his thumb softly circled around your clit, looking at you in the process. you couldn't help but let out a soft moan, looking at jay with need.

"please." you croaked out with flushed cheeks.

"please what, madam?" he politely asked, not once forgetting his manners yet, seemingly cocky, making you word out your needs. 

through his actions went opposite to his words, his fingers now circling your clit faster, "oh fuck–" you had cried out loud.

"shh, we don't want others knowing now, do we?" he spoke, already semi hard with your pretty voices.

you were glad to know that he was on the same page but, it wasn't enough for you.

"want more." you whined at the slow pace of his fingers which teased your entrance.

"as you wish, madam." he spoke, getting closer and spreading your legs further, inserting two digits at once.

you clenched around his fingers as he pumped into you mercilessly, as if trying to finger fuck all the stress out of you. low moans resounded the room, toes curling as you reached the brink of your orgasm. jay felt you shivering under his touch, so he decided to take it a step further, rubbing your clit with his thumb, stimulating you further.

"ah, please don't stop!" you gasped at how he made a simple orgasm feel so intense.

and he didn't stop, making your back arch and legs quiver by the time you reached your climax. the knot in your stomach finally coming down freely on jay's fingers. you couldn't think straight for the next few minutes, breathing deeply to reach down from the euphoria.

meanwhile, jay was painfully hard, your low moans, fucked up expression and red watery eyes were enough for him to lose his sanity. this was the first time he went against his customer service policy and he wasn't regretting it one bit.

"tell me what you want." jay asked, carrying you to the couch next to your massage table and gently putting you down, brushing stray hair away from your face.

"is sex massage therapy a thing?" your hormones were speaking by now, making jay let out a pretty smile.

"let's discover it, shall we, madam?" he raised his brow, making you nod at once, still eager.

within seconds, he was naked on top of you, kissing and fondling with your breasts, massaging it in all the right ways. his cock rubbed against your wet core, sending shivers down your spine.

you had booked a stress relieving massage, and that's exactly what you were getting, his hands not leaving your body even once, giving you the outmost pleasure you're ever received.

you felt him prod at your entrance, kissing you straight before filling you up with his dick. the kiss successfully blocked the loud moan which you were eager to let out. jay was huge, he filled you up deliciously, rocking his hips back and forth until he was buried in you.

you held his broad shoulders for support, hands slowly gripping his silky hair in a fist. he groaned, particularly loving this gesture.

you let out a sob, clenching around his length as you felt another knot building up in your stomach. jay thrusted powerfully, heightening the sensation and further providing you bliss.

"jay–" you gasped, every part of your body was sensitive to the core. jay rubbing your clit only added more to it.

he loved it, the way his name rolled off your tongue, further encouraging him to do more. heat pooled your cheeks, being fucked by your hot masseur was never something you had expected to happen. though, you weren't opposed to this idea anymore.

"that's it, y/n, cum for me." he finally called out your name, chasing his own high alongside. you felt him twitch around you.

jay silenced you with a kiss yet again as you creamed his cock, toes curling with pleasure as you hit your second orgasm.

jay pulled out, emptying himself all over your stomach. he sat down to regain his breathing as he dick grew soft again.

you realised that you won't be able to see massage in any other way anymore.

jay realised that he won't be able to treat you much as just a client anymore, yet he stood up, helping you back on the massage bed and cleaning you up.

"that was nice." you softly spoke.

"glad to be of your service, madam." jay joked around making you laugh.

he made sure to complete the massage, cleaning you up and mentally making a note to get your number from the receptionist computer. you stared at him the whole time he did his work, highly nervous because no one had made you feel this relaxed with sex before.

you knew you won't be able to stop yourself from coming back to luscious lather. afterall, you weren't sure if anyone else could top the satisfaction jay gave you.

"you can dress up again, someone will soon be here to escort you out. have a great day, madam." he said it all with a smile, seemingly professional as if he didn't fuck you 15 minutes back. you let out a small thank you and he winked before leaving you alone. the same guy with pretty moles came to escort you out, smiling and wishing you a good day.

you had to take a cab back home as your body felt like a puddle with all the stiffness and stress gone. you knew you had to go back, you had to meet him again.

maybe you had liked jay a little too much because, soon you found yourself booking an appointment again for the next week.

weekly massages didn't sound bad to you afterall.

taglist : @en-cityzen @sunghoonsworld @softforqiankun @ye0njunzp1xie @eunoia-kth @lix-freckle3 @woniebae @baekhyunstruly @heenotes @sungniverse @shinramyeonz @starryjake @wntrsgf @eli-zzy @heelariously @liliansun @hoonstrology @abdiitcryy @w3bqrl @9900z @so-jays @lilychirps @cha-raena @faethefairy @seo-thicc-bin @lilacboba @fallinforgyu @irockgyu @jayegalaxy

PERMANENT TAGLIST OPEN!

© jaylaxies | 2021

[sykokittyy]

Could I request a Steve Harrington x reader where he secretly rents pron from the family video and Y/N finds out? Like they aren’t mad, they’re just surprised and maybe make fun of him a little bit. You can decide what happens next I just need to get this idea out of my head lol 

Okay I think this anonymous ask meant renting porn off like Cable Tv , but if you didn’t mean this then I am really sorry lmao! But thank you for the ask!

Porno Flicks

Steve Harrington X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Male-Masturbation, Oral, C🥛M Eating, Smut kinda :)

———————————————————————————————————

Today was a very stressful day and with everything that was going on within Hawkins and his friend group, and his relationship with Y/N. He felt that he need some sort of stress relief. He and Y/N haven’t been having sex as of yet because Steve was always working at the movie store with Robin, while Y/N on the other hand had to look out after Eddie and the rest of their friend group. So a couple days ago he decided that he was going to rent a VHS tape off of his family tv cable, and rent a porno for creamy sessions with himself. Because for one, he knew that his parents wasn’t going to be home NO time soon, so he basically had the whole house to himself, and for two, he was just a horny fuck that wants to stroke his dick without any interruptions while thinking of Y/N of course.

Steve met up with Y/N on their way out of school so that way they could talk about their day, and have some quality time with each other and talking about how horrible Tammy sounded at the pep rally. Oh my god, you couldn’t agree more with Steve about how she sounded like a muppet singing in high notes. You just knew that the veterans that had passed on were happy they were dead so they couldn’t hear that shit. Steve and Y/N laughed and talked about how Eddie had got himself in some deep shit with Chrissy. The police were still looking for him and so was Jason and damn near the whole basketball team. Thank god Lucas warned y’all in time while y’all were at the school with Max, but it seems like when one problem is decreasing, here comes some other bullshit that’s trying to happen. You noticed that he was kind’ve in a rush to get somewhere but you thought that maybe he was just in a rush to get to work and you didn’t pay any mind to it. So you kissed him goodbye, and watched him drive out of the school parking lot.

Steve drove to his house in excitement. Now don’t get him wrong, Steve loves you, but if you kept talking for 5 more seconds he felt like he was going to bust in his pants, so he had to get away. He soon drives up in his driveway and gather up his book bag and his keys, and sprinted out the car to the door. He then runs to his room and put down his book bag and keys. He proceeds to grab his bottle of lotion and runs back to the living room and flops on the couch. He then grabs the remote and turned on the tv then went to to the VHS porno that he rented a couple day prior. He presses play and starts to watch the porno. The porno was basically about pizza guy delivering pizza to a woman and the woman basically was flirting with him and invited him in so she could “eat something else that wasn’t on the menu”. It came to a part where the woman started undressing her self teasingly for the pizza delivery guy. She started unbuttoning her shirt showing her cleavage in her bra to the man, and it was in that very moment where he started imagining that very moment that Steve start imagining that was you undressing yourself for him. He drooled at the thought of it. He slowly starts to unbutton his trousers and unzips the zipper of his pants as he watches the woman unclasp her bra.

Steve couldn’t help but imagine that her nipples were your nipples that he was looking at. Steve then slowly proceeded to pull himself from his boxers. The head of his dick oozing of pre-cum and angry red from his arousal of thinking about all the naughty things you could do for him. He watches as the woman took off her pants and panties legs wide open for the pizza delivery guy. “They sure do know how to put on a show” he chuckles lightly, while stroking himself slowly as he watches the pizza delivery guy get on his knees and gets in between the woman’s legs and devour her as if she was was a milkshake on a hot summer day. “Oh f-fuck” he groans as he continues watching the man eat the meal between the woman’s legs. Steve wondered how you tasted, he wondered how wet you could get and how your moans could sound like beautiful orchestra to his ears. He just knew that he wouldn’t get enough of how you tasted. Hell, he’ll even be more happy than him and Dustin combined being in a panty shop.

Steve watches the TV screen as the pizza guy gets up and pulls down his trousers only to find out the man didn’t have any underwear on. “Damn, he sure as hell came prepared” Steve says while stroking himself a little faster. On the screen the pizza guy then decides to thrust himself into the woman, while the woman moans and says how “he’s soo big” and how “she already feels so full”. Steve stops stroking himself for a minute knowing that some of the porn stars can be over-reacting with their moans that it’s funny. He knew you wouldn’t say some shit like that but he continued stroking himself, knowing that when he did get you to himself and all spread open and vulnerable for him that he was going to give you the ride of you life. “Y/N, Y/N, oh my god Y/N!” , he moans to himself thinking about how tight you pussy could be. He starts stroking himself faster, knowing that his climax is only 5-6 strokes away. “Oh shit!” Steve moans as he releases all over his stomach and trousers as he continues stroking his sensitive dick, though his high. He moans your name over and over until he released all the cum all over himself. He didn’t even bother to turn porno tape off or even clean himself off assuming that the video wouldn’t last that long and that he’ll just straighten up later. Steve dozes off from the over-powering orgasm that he just let go and was going to wake up sooner or later.

Meanwhile, Y/N had gotten in her car, driving to Steve’s place because Y/N forgot that Steve had her textbook from earlier in school so that he could study for the history test that one of their teachers gave him. What Steve proceeded to forget was that Y/N had a key made for his house for safety reasons, and that Y/N could easily get in the house without an issue. Y/N tried calling his house phone multiple times in the last 15 minutes, but he wasn’t picking up the phone at all. So she decided to drive to his house knowing that Steve always drives home first to get ready for work, and he always leaves his book bag at home in his room. Y/N soon drives up his driveway, instantly realizing that he was indeed home. “Okay, so you’re home and not at work, and you still didn’t pick up the damn house-phone”, Y/N mumbled as she walked up to the door. Y/N didn’t even bother to knock knowing she already had the key she had made in her hand. Y/N unlocks the door walking in slowly, when she heard loud pornographic moans coming from the living room. Y/N closes the front door silently, and continues walking walking quietly in the living room, ready to catch him in the act of doing something. When Y/N reaches the living room, she expected to see a woman in the living room that wasn’t her with Steve, but the view in front of her caught her attention.

What Y/N seen was that Steve was asleep against the couch snoring, while his dick was out with his cum all over his dick, stomach, and a little bit on his pants. Y/N giggled quietly a bit and turned around towards the TV and looked at the porno that was showing on the TV. Y/N then put two and two together and realized that he was masturbating. Y/N grabs the remote and turns off the porno and puts down the remote. She then proceeds to get on her knees decides that she’s going to help clean him up, but not with a rag, with her mouth. She slowly starts licking up the cum from his shaft, from the base, to the tip. She teasingly start licking his tip pulling away a little bit when he starts twitching and moaning. Y/N then takes Steve whole, in her mouth and starts sucking him dry. She could hear him moaning in his sleep, so goes below his shaft and starts sucking on his balls. Steve, slowly but surely wakes up, and you were looking directly at his face making eye contact. You then proceeded to wink and took him back into you mouth. He proceeds to grab your hair start moving your lips up and down around him. “Oh shit, Y/N!, how long have you been sucking on daddy like this?” , he asks while you curve your tongue around the tips. “Barley 5 minutes” you giggle before speeding up, cause the vibration against his dick making him close to climax again. “I’m finna-“ he say before he grips on you hair holding you down on his shaft while he cums down your throat before letting out a loud moan. He went so far down your throat that you nose was touching pelvic bone where there was his brunette pubic hair. “Swallow it, All of it” he says as your detached your mouth from him. You swallowed all of it, and proceeded to hold out your tongue to show him. “Good girl” Steve proceeds to say.

“Well you must’ve missed me if you’re watching pizza delivery porn”, you laughed proceeding to pick with him a little bit. He then proceed to roll his eyes and pulls up his boxers and and pants before buckling and zipping himself up. “Yeah Yeah, Whatever. I was just under so much stress with everything that was going on that I needed some type of release”, he say while looking at you. “Awww sweet baby, you want some pizza” you said mockingly in a baby voice before laughing at the pizza joke you said about the porno. “No, but I sure would love to taste a piece of your pizza” he says.

———————————————————————

OMGGG. Y’all this was my first time writing smut, and doing a an anonymous reader ask. Can y’all please like, repost, and follow me for more! Please don’t be shy to send me an ask, I will gladly try to do it !🖤

[theheavensbloom]

Tian paused at the question of whether he had trouble with bandits or thieves. The first thing that came to mind was that he didn't because he didn't care if he was robbed of a few flowers. The second being that had he anything worth robbing, he had the ability to protect it. Neither of them sounded very good or aligned with who he tried to be now.

"No, I'm quite good at avoiding busy roads. Anyone pathetic enough to try and rob a disabled man in a busy city deserves the goods and the public judgment," he said decisively. "Luckily, I only carry as much that will take me to the next city."

Tian was thankful for the ruckus taking attention away from his non-answer, hearing it far sooner than when they had approached it. He could hear the strain of muscles, the labored breathing. He could even make up the garbled muttering from bruised lips, cursing another's wife. He sidestepped a man who had gotten flung back by a well-aimed fist, propping him back up on the end of his stick before he could continue descending.

"Thank you for the notice," he said humbly as he shuffled a little closer to Hanzei, leaning into sheepish and timid in the case that he'd caught a glimpse of his reflexes. When warned of the spill, he purposefully stepped into it and allowed himself a clumsy stumble forward. Just enough to sell clumsy and blind.

Catching himself on the back of a chair, he chuckled and sat himself down. "The tavern I usually go to isn't nearly as busy. Far less chaos."

Tian paused again at the question. He did not enjoy lying but he would've been if he said that he enjoyed being in Novigrad. The atmosphere was tense and the walls were filled with old ghosts he didn't have the wherewithal to exterminate. The pulsing ache in his shoulder reminded him of just how much injury he'd suffered since arriving, the relentless onslaught of misunderstandings and rude townies.

Novigrad was a terrible, horrible place with one redeeming quality: a very cute dog that lived at the Nowhere Inn. And even that hardly made the stop worth it.

He picked up a tankard and took a long drink from it.

"It's a nice city," he said, deciding on objectivity. "I wish I had come at a better time so that I could experience it more without all the commotion. I'm not a fan of political tension. It puts everyone on edge and makes for terrible business."

Quick to abandon the topic, he lifted his head and redirected the attention back to Hanzei. "So, how did you and Miss Sorela meet each other? She does not seem like the courting sort."

With Tian’s hand on his shoulder, Hanzei began heading to the tavern at a slower pace. He listened as the man recounted a little about forests in Kaedwen. Plants weren’t something that he had a particular interest in, and he found it difficult to imagine how anyone would be able to tell one plant from another in a forest full of plants without seeing them or taking ages to feel and smell everything.

He hummed with approval. “People are willing to pay for goods they do not want to put the effort into retrieving or making themselves.” While many would point a finger at him and claim he led a criminal gang with many unsavory deeds attributed to him and the Tidecloaks, he would argue that it was all business. In his mind, it was no different than Tian suffering through winter to turn a tidy profit.

“Do you have much trouble with thieves and bandits?” This was something he was particularly curious about. He eyed Tian’s walking stick for a moment. Is that used just for walking?

They were nearing the tavern. Already there were people just outside the door trying to punch and kick each other into submission. It was neither an unusual sight nor sound. Hanzei paid no mind to them, but gave them a wide berth. “It can get a little rowdy at times. Sometimes it starts because someone looked at someone else the wrong way, but I do not think you will have that problem.”

He opened the door to the tavern and was greeted by the busy chatter from the patrons inside. “There is usually a more quiet spot at the back,” he told Tian. They passed a table of men drinking and another table having a laugh. His eyes caught the barman and held up two fingers and then pointed to the back. Someone knocked over their drink, spilling most of the contents onto the floor. “Might want to step over,” he advised.

When they got to the table, he stopped. “There is chair on your left.” The barman shortly followed and set down two tankards of beer on the table. He waited until Tian was in his chair before he rounded the table and sat himself. “So, what are your thoughts on Novigrad?”

[theunreliablewriter]

Sixth Sense

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mention of nightmares, Single cuss word

Fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

Request: Hiii this is a request for some cute moments of the reader just knowing what yelena wants. I feel like when it comes to the romantic aspect yelena doesn't know how to express what she wants( like cuddles, kisses, quality time) but she doesn't have to worry about that too much because the reader always seems to know what yelena is trying to say/ask for without her actually having to do it

Author’s Note: I was initially going to make this headcanons, since it was a more broad request, but I decided to go ahead and write a fic. I hope it still has a bit of what what you wanted, though! Let me know if anyone enjoys! 💜

Well over a year and half had passed since you first met the mysterious blonde, when she came into the popular café you worked as a barista and an occasional baker. Your fellow co-workers all took an interest in her because despite the various sorts of people you met on a daily basis, never had one spoke with a thick Russian accent. That, of course, intrigued you too, but it was just one of many things that caught your attention.

She ended up becoming a shop regular by coming in several times a week, if not daily; meaning, you slowly began to take notice to some aspects of her demeanor and mannerisms. This included how she always sat with her back to a wall, facing the door. Nobody ever joined her, so you wondered if there was a specific reason she glanced up each time someone came in, or if she just looked because she was nosy like you were.

And, of course, you had her order memorized. For whatever reason, it greatly amused you for someone who seemed to be encased in such a hard exterior to have the order of hot chocolate with an extra, homemade marshmallow.

After a couple months passed, you began to realize something new. While she was polite to everyone, it was you who she started to greet with a genuine smile; it was you who she shared her name of Yelena with, after she asked for your own.

Overtime, she stopped being a customer to you because she had become a friend visiting a friend at work. You’d sit with her on your breaks and never run out of things to talk about. You had lost count of the number of times your manager had to come tell you that lunch was over. Each time, Yelena would not so subtly glare at him for interrupting, making you chuckle under your breath.

Somehow, though, the guy didn’t take the hints that she didn’t like him because out of nowhere one day, you watched him approach the Russian’s table and bluntly ask to take her out that night for what he called “a good time.” Her response was nothing more than a flat, unamused, “No.” Even with your hand over your mouth, you failed to conceal your laughing—a sound that made her look over at you and grin, as the man walked away with a destroyed ego.

That same evening, Yelena stole his line about a good time and asked you out on an official date. While both of you cackled ridiculously, you, of course, said yes.

And now, it had been several months since your relationship began.

It took time, but eventually, Yelena told you her story. She told you of her origins, her adoptive parents, her sister Natasha, what she was forcibly trained to be, and how she was now using her skills of a Widow on her own accord to help people.

To her sheer disbelief, you accepted all of her with open arms. You didn’t judge her. If anything, you admired her more than you already did.

After knowing of how horribly she was treated for majority of her life, you were more dedicated to show her love and care than ever. You told her until you were blue in the face that’s the sort of treatment she always deserved. Yelena didn’t agree, though, nor did she ever ask for it. Actually, you came to realize maybe she didn’t even know how to ask for any sort of affection.

But, with you, she didn’t need to know.

Even before she told you her truths, you continuously surprised her with how you seemed to simply know what it was she was hoping for.

She genuinely believed you had a sixth sense that was knowing when and what type of affection to give her.

And tonight was no exception.

You were out late for a friend’s birthday. You wanted Yelena to join you, but she was exhausted and had no desire to move from the couch. She insisted you go—knowing you had been wanting to try the restaurant the party was being held at—after you offered to stay.

As she was in the midst of decided what takeout she wanted to order for herself, she slipped into some much needed sleep.

Hours of peaceful rest passed, before her eyelids began to squeeze so tightly shut one might have thought they would tear. Her body began to jerk and thrash, as though it was truly trying to fight off whatever—whomever—was haunting her dreams.

The nightmare eventually became so horrifying, she awoke with a start, gasping to catch her breath.

As much as she hated it, after she got her mind under control, she reached for her phone to ask if you could come home early. She had suffered from nightmares for as long as she could remember, and no one could calm her down from them like you.

Just as she was about to press send on the text, she heard the front door open. Although she felt like a little child, she quickly stood, silently wishing you would notice how she needed you.

“Yelena,” your soothing voice called out. “That place is fucking horrible. On top of that, everybody got drunk within the first twenty minutes, so I left as quickly as I could. I got us your favorite Chinese.”

You sat the filled bag on the coffee table before throwing your arms around your girlfriend’s neck to hug her.

“I missed you,” you managed to tell her, despite the near crushing grip she had around your waist.

Quickly, you pulled back just enough to press your lips to hers. After you trailed them up to her forehead, making her smile, you asked, “Everything okay? What’s wrong?”

Yelena shook her head. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Mhm,” you hummed incredulously. “You may be one of the world’s most skilled spies, but you can’t hide anything from me.”

“Believe me. I know,” she replied, attempting to hide the humor in her voice.

A few more moments of your typical sarcastic bickering passed, before you both settled on the couch and dug into your food.

Once finished, you reached for the book you were eager to finished, while Yelena went to toss the empty containers away in the kitchen. She thought of how even though she really wanted your attention, she wasn’t going to bug you for it.

When she returned to the living room, she picked up the television remote and sat at the bottom of your outstretched legs.

“Why are you so far away?” you asked her.

“Aren’t you wanting to read?”

With a smile, you shook her head and held up your arms straight up to wordlessly offer an opportunity to cuddle.

Yelena’s heart fluttered with joy, and she grinned at you.

As she placed her strong body on top of yours and rested her head on your chest, wanting to let it’s rhythmic beat calm her racing thoughts from her nightmare, she, again, swore you had a sixth sense entirely for her.

| Masterlist |

[wizkiddx]

your voice

angsty vibe, requested by @hollandlover19 than you for th rq and hop this doesn't disappoint too much :)))

summary: tom says something so stupid and has to deal with the consquences

warnings: a bit angsty, but ends in fluff! argumnts and raising voices, I guess could be associated with panic attacks tho not written with that intention

//////////////////////////////////

“Oh, Y/n er sorry.” Harrisons morning dulcet tones were what you were awoken to with a groan.

Everything was achy, and your head was pounding, making you grumble in discontent as you shifted uncomfortably on the technically too-small-to-sleep-on sofa.

This was not the morning you’d foreseen even 12 hours ago.

Lockdown had been difficult for everyone, even removing the tragic health crisis. Being locked in with your boyfriend and his brothers and friends was, for the most part, amazing. Lots of laughs, lots of beers and lots of quality time that you usually didn’t get. But it was also intense.

Without a doubt, since you first got together, this was the longest time you’d ever had with Tom. And it had been brilliant, your relationship getting so much closer and just learning the subtlest intricacies about the other. In fact, when lockdown had been announced, you’d never lived together (the most a week-long holiday).

Though it was also like a pressure cooker, Toms rented house. When one of you were in an understandable but stubborn lousy mood, it affected the whole house.

Yesterday night had been the perfect storm. The weather was unbelievably scorching; your work had announced that they had to let some staff go because of the financial implications of the pandemic; a ‘mole’ had released personal details of your relationship.

And it was like a pot on the stove; everything went from controllable to violently boiling over in a matter of minutes.

Honestly, you didn’t even know why you had started arguing - it was that pathetic. And yet you’d both said pretty horrible stuff - though it was Tom who had crossed the line. Frankly, the way he’d spoken to you was almost unforgivable.

You’d both known instantly too, all his anger at you had immediately evaporated when he’d realised what he had said. It took no time for him to become a grovelling apologetic mess, however even that- it was already too late.

It might sound feeble, but honestly, you’d run and locked yourself in the downstairs loo. You’d cried on the inside- whilst from the other side of the door, he had been begging and pleading with you.

After an hour though, Tom finally gave up - hence why you’d had a pretty uncomfortable night on the sofa.

This brings it back to Harrison, the early riser of the house, barrelling into the living room after his morning run. All bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, except also slightly terrified looking as he stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“I’m up now” You sighed, dragging yourself into a sitting position on the sofa whilst massaging your crooked neck.

“You er…. you fell asleep watching the TV?” Rolling your eyes, you sighed at the blonde, even if his poor acting was a little entertaining.

“Are we both pretending that you don’t know what went down last night?” Of course, Harrison knew. The walls were thin, you’d been screaming and he was Tom’s best friend. No doubt, Tom had immediately gone to him for help and advice last night.

Harrison held his hands up in response, caught in the act, and clicked his tongue. “What he said was bad. You shouldn’t be the one ending up with the sore back.” He wasn’t wrong.

“And yet here I am…” With a sigh you smiled which he returned with a sickeningly empathetic one “Anyway, don’t let my sad self get in the way, did you come in here for anything?”

Now, because Harrison was mentally a five year old, that’s how you ended up sat crossed-legged on the floor, clutching a wii remote and angrily shouting at yoshi on the mariokart screen. The whole household was competitive as hell and you were no exception - so some rouge elbows were flying when he viciously knocked you off the track.

Slowly Harry and Tuwaine filtered in and picked up remotes too, so the quiet morning was very quickly switched into a tense atmosphere of yelps and shouts. None more so than Tuwaine, who was possibly the worst looser you had ever met.

Really, you knew all the boys were only doing this as there way of showing you they were with you. That they also thought Tom was a massive raging dickhead. And you appreciated it more than they would ever know. Locked down in Toms house, very much not mutual ground, having three stupid boys behind you meant everything.

Just as you got on to the 18th and final race of the house’s mario grand prix, another voice cut across the tense silence as you waited for the coutdown to turn into ‘go’. Naturally, you flipped round to see Tom, looking as though he literally just rolled out of bed with puffy eyes and messy hair and no top. The sight made your heart flutter, to the point you had to consciously check yourself - refusing to smile softly at him like you usually would, instead narrowing your eyebrows and looking back at the TV.

Tom had so desperately hoped that when he came down this morning, everything would be better. That all it’d take would be a quiet conversation for the two of you to make up - for him to have you in his arms again. Primarily as he had heard your excited laugh echoing through the halls in reactions to Tuwaines yelps of protests - it made him hopeful. Waking up to a cold and empty bed was almost soul-crushing this morning. He did not want it to ever happen again.

Which is why his heart sank so much when all you gave him was a scolding look, before turning your attention to the TV. Admittedly, he was naive to think that what he’d done last night would be an easy fix - he knew it too. So with dropping shoulders, Tom silently took a seat on the sofa, watching from afar. You spent the rest of the race more absent, not joining in with the Harrison or Harrys trash-talking, acutely aware of Tom’s eyes burning the back of your head.

Then came Harry’s celebrations as the overall winner (only just) and when Harrison suggested another game Tom piped up again.

“Give me a turn Harry.”

The three boys kneeling next to you all stiffened, looking immediately to you for what seemed like consent - as if they were engaging with the enemy. (At least it was good to know everyone was on your side).

“I’m gonna go prepare for my meeting anyway.” You spoke quietly, already placing the remote on the floor and standing up.

“Y/n I don’t mind swappin-“

“No. Thanks, H but no.” You weren’t being selfless and giving Tom a turn. You were running away from seeing him.

And Harrison was still really angry at Tom. He’d been so selfish and insensitive and had hurt you- someone who Haz also cared a lot about too. Yes Tom was his bestmate, that he’d grown up with and known for years - but Haz really liked you too, in fact all the boys did. So they were almost as pissed with Tom as you were.

So while you threw the cushion you were sat on back on the floor, Harrison shot Tom the filthiest look and practically shooed him away.

“come on Y/n … just one more? Then you can do your boring work.” You were about to refuse when Haz tilted his head toward the door, only then noticing that Tom had slipped out the room. Now that he was gone ,yes, just one more wouldn’t hurt. The meeting prep wasn’t time pressured; it was an excuse for an escape.

Tuwaine whooped a little when you nodded, planting back down and ready for the first race. Yet apart from that, the room was still a little awkward, you being the first to break the silence.

“Actually Haz, would you mind giving me a lift today?”

“What to the shops?

“Um no not quite.” Tuwaine laughed in his usual innocent and infectious style before asking more.

“Seriously? You know we’re locked down? Boris won’t be happy if you going mad and leaving the house.”

“Just to Y/f/n’s. She lives on her own so it’s legal.”

“She lives just down the road right? Can’t you walk?” Harry was confused, making him look away from the screen, ultimately leading to his ‘diddykong’ falling off the track.

“I’ll have my bags. I um… I think I’m going to stay with her till lockdown eases more.”

As soon as you said that, Harry pressed pause on the race, all three boys looking at you mouth-opened.

“For real?”

“Yeh I um… think me and Tom need some time apart and being locked in isn’t helping.”

“I’m not saying to forgive and forget what he said… but he is really sorry.”

“The twats literally kicking himself.” Tuwaine added, making you smile a little for calling Tom that.

“I know just… I need some space and-“

“Are you breaking up?” Harry almost announced, cutting you off. He would miss you too.

“No! Nono I … well I don’t know. I just- we both need this.”

The boys all nodded, looking at the floor for a moment before Harrison’s blue eyes were back on you.

“Course I’ll drive, but… but I’ll miss you.”

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

You’d left merely an hour later, whilst Tom was holed up in the garden doing what looked like an almost unbearable work out. It meant he was also out your hair and you could throw all your stuff into two suitcases without him being any the wiser. It was probably pretty cowardly to leave without speaking to him, but you couldn’t. It would hurt too much and you didn’t want to break down in front of him. No doubt as soon as you had got to Y/f/n you did - into a blubbering mess of tears - but Tom hadn’t seen so it was okay.

Speaking of. Tom.

Tom was not in a good way at all. He’d been trying really hard to curb his’ short fuse’ lately- all of which had been well and truly blown in the past 4 hours. After finally being realised from meetings, which he’d not been able to concentrate on anyway, Tom had mentally prepared himself for a lot of grovelling. Once he’d vaguely hunted the house and not found you there, he naturally asked Harry and Tuwaine (both of whom were in the living room) if they’d seen you around.

It was a typical question, the answer he was expecting was that you’d just gone on your daily walk. And yet the response he got was… well a lot more confusing. Harry’s eyes widened whilst T did his awkward-uncomfortable chuckle, the two locked in an intense bout of eye contact. It was as though they were arguing with each, but through the powers of telekinesis... and it put Tom on edge. He was already stressed because you were so angry with him, so not getting a clear answer out of his brother and best mate - lets just say it tested his patience.

“You two need to tell me what the hell is going on right now.”

The two boys both looked panicked to speak to him, which was the opposite of the usual situation. They were some of the ONLY people in his life that would just say it how it is, no sugar coating. Like if he was away and being ‘famous’ was getting to his head; or if he wore the wrong pair of jeans. Even yesterday evenings events, they’d both called him out on what he’d said to you.

So why the silence?

Eventually, it was Harry who spoke up, but in doing so, practically just waved all responsibility on to another innocent party.

“Ask Haz.”

And then Tom knew. He knew this was bad. Immediately his heart was pumping at an alarmingly fast rate, taking the stairs two at a time and not bothering to knock before bursting the door open.

“Where’s Y/n?”

Harrison was reclined back on his haphazardly made bed, laptop balanced on his lap as he looked up with a sigh. He’d known this conversation was coming, but it didn’t make it any less easy. With a sigh, Haz closed the lid of his MacBook and sat up on the bed.

“Tom just-“

“Where. Is. She.”

“She’s gone to Y/f/n’s.”

“Oh… okay.” Suddenly Tom’s voice was muted, thinking he might’ve blown his top at nothing. This wasn’t weird - Y/f/n was in your support bubble and you went to hers often.

Tom was grossly underestimating the situation - and Harrison heard didn’t fancy stringing him along though.

“No like gone. She um… she took all her stuff. I think she’s going to stay there till-“

Tom was already out his room at that point, slamming the door as he did so. Making a beeline for his own room, Tom then frantically started to pull out the draws and rummage around the shelves, confirming what he already knew. Your clothes were gone, your toothbrush and toiletries were gone, you were gone.

It’s important to note Tom didn’t really cry all that much. Or if he did - it was more inconsequential, at a sad movie or one of the rescue dog stories from battersea. Actually, when it came down to it, he didn’t really cry.

Now though, it was impossible to ignore the burning of his eyes, as he sank down onto the bed that now felt twice the size. With ragged breath, he repeatedly fisted his eyes, not actually letting the tears fall - but it was impossible to not acknowledge their presence. Harrison stood wordlessly at the door frame, knowing it best not to interrupt - whilst at the same time knowing Tom shouldn’t be left alone. There was a delicate balance between the two, which he was walking on a knife-edge on right now.

After a short while, Tom looked up with red eyes and nodded at Harrison, effectively granting him entrance. With a sigh once again, Haz moved and sat next to Tom on the bed, clasping his hands together nervously.

“She said you both just needed a break from each other. Think lockdown and everything was just a bit too intense.” Haz had tried to explain, yet it seemed Tom had only managed to lock onto one of the first words.

“A break? Or breaking up?”

“I uhm… she didn’t explicitly say ending things. But I just… I don’t know to be honest mate.”

“You see the way she looked at me this morning? Like she hated me. Wouldn’t even acknowledge that I was there.”

“I don’t know what to say… she needs time and space I think.” Tom was silent for a beat, shaking his head as he cradled his forehead.

“I hate the fact you and my girlfriend are on better terms than I am.” Anddd his voice was back to scathing.

“I’m not on anyones side. But your both my friends and she… she needed some time.”

With that, Harrison made a quick exit out, getting Harry to take over the Tom supervision.

Ever since the atmosphere in the house had been tense. To say Tom was highly strung was an understatement, particularly towards Harrison. Deep down he was thankful Haz was looking out for Y/n: he was glad that Haz was checking she was okay. It’s not like Tom could, because Y/n was refusing to answer his calls, texts, whatsapps, even the slip of paper he’d slipped under Y/f/n’s door in the middle of an especially dark night.

So it was good to know Y/n was okay, but the fact she was going on socially distanced walks with the rest of his housemates was rubbing salt in the wound.

After a week and a half of complete radio silence on your end Tom had utterly worn down. He didn’t have the emotional capacity to be angry anymore, he was just tired. Tired of missing you with every breath, tired of the ten-tonne weight of guilt pressing on his chest, fucking exhausted with being angry at Haz and Harry and Tuwaine.

The best thing in his life and one of the very limited opportunities was quality time with the people he loved more than anything else. He had ruined it all.

And it was the small things. It was waking up to your soft, whispered voice in the morning; it was your infectious giggle when he surprised you with a hug from behind and gentle kisses to your neck; it was your quiet singing in the shower. Especially when he knew Haz, Harry and Tuwaine were all still seeing you and laughing with you. It hurt like hell.

Which is how he ended up hesitantly knocking on Harrison’s bedroom door at half eleven at night, with his tail between his legs. Having been so uber-healthy all lockdown, Haz was already in bed following his sleep cycle, though for Tom right now- he would be awake.

“I’m um… I’m sorry I’ve been a knob. There’s no excuse of anything I’ve just… I’ve been a knob.”

“You’re not wrong.” Harrison nodded in agreement with a sly smile, motioning for Tom to come into the room, after which he perched on the edge of the bed.

“I just… I need to speak to her but I… I don’t want to push her if she’s still hurting and I…”

“You absolutely promise not to blow your fuse? Because she couldn’t handle that.” Tom’s eyes widened, thinking this would be a much harder pitch than how it seemed to be going.

“Yesyesyes i- I promise. I just, I feel broken you know? Even if all I get is the time to say sorry, I-I really need to.”

Harrison released a deep breath, nodding slowly before throwing the covers off himself. Tom watched all his movements with a curious gaze, silently sitting as Haz pulled on a hoodie, then socks too.

“Well? Let’s go.”

//////////////////

Now, what Tom had not in the slightest bit been prepared for was this to happen tonight. Really, he hadn’t even thought Harrison would agree to let him talk to you… and even if he had, Tom not in hell thought it’d be at 11:30 that evening.

His heart was thundering in his chest, trying to hurriedly script how on earth he was going to apologise meaningfully to you - as him and Haz walked the short distance to your friends house. Honestly the whole situation was peculiar to Tom - finding it hard to believe that if you weren’t to answer his texts you wouldn’t be open to an in person conversation.

What Tom didn’t know, was how you’d been texting Haz at a similar point of desperation. You weren’t happy and even given everything Tom had said and acted - you missed your boy. No matter how infuriating he could be when trapped 24/7 - you’d quickly learnt this was the only way you wanted to spend these weird times.

So yes, Tom’s best friend knew you were hardly sleeping either, but needed that little push to interact with you boyfriend. No doubt, you’d still be awake to answer the door.

Once he’d arrived at the apartment block and walked up the stairs to the right floor, it still took some prodding and pushing from Harrison to get Tom to knock on the door. Plainly, because he was shitting himself. Haz hadn’t given him enough pre warning, enough time to work it all out in his head. So it took another encouraging nod from Harrison for him to knock on the slightly rough-round-the-edges flat door.

Y/f/n was single and young, starting her career in Kingston - so the flat she could afford was modest at best. When it was just occupied by a single person, that was manageable - two was a push. You’d only been living with her for a week and a few days but it was enough to know this flat was not ideal for two people in lockdown. You were already stepping on each others toes. It also wasn’t technically legal to move households but Y/f/n had always been in your support bubble as a single household otherwise. And so there was also a layer of guilt to it all.

Naturally then, sharing a bed with someone who wasn’t Tom meant you just were not sleeping. Even if you had both gone to bed early (just to kill some hours in the day) you were still wide awake at quarter to twelve - when a timid knock echoed through the minuscule apartment. Curiosity peaked at who the hell would be calling now; you silently slipped out of bed, managing to not disturb Y/f/n, and closed the bedroom door.

Now you weren’t an idiot. Even though this was southwest london, hardly the capital for crime, Y/f/n lived in a dodgy building with some questionable characters. And it was midnight. Hence why you approached the situation cautiously, tiptoeing to the door and waiting with your ear pressed against the wood.

“I told you she wouldn’t answer!”

“She will! Might just be in the loo or something.”

“Haz this is stupid-“

The air in your chest froze when you immediately recognised the smooth tone of his voice. It was him… and you’d missed that so much. Already there were tears in your eyes and you couldn’t open the door just yet. So no, instead you slid down the doorframe before calling quietly out into the night.

“Tom?”

The bickering on the otherside of the door was silenced, but you heard a quite tap on the door... and could envision exactly what was going on. Tom, pressing both palms and his ear to the door, as Harrison took a few steps back - sensing his work was done.

“Y/n? You there?” He sounded desperate, you could hear the emotion dripping off his voice. It was only when you tried to reply did you realise your own voice was having a harder time speaking.

“Yeh its-its me.” It felt as though this heavyweight that had been pressing down on your chest was slowly lifting, making your voice all cracky and low.

In response, there was a short and sharp exhale. It sounded relieved before some fidgeting as you imagined him crouching down beside the door - mirroring your image.

“Fuck, it… it feels so good to hear your voice.”

“Yours too… I’ve-i’ve missed you.”

Tom snorted at that, a gentle bang allowing you to realise he’d just whacked his head on the back of the wood.

“You have no idea how this week felt.” He was wrong though, you did.

Yes, maybe without the insurmountable guilt that Tom was rightfully feeling, but it didn’t mean that the time apart wasn’t easy.

“I do. This hasn’t been a nice holiday for me you know?”

He sighed, knowing that yet again he’d said the wrong thing. This time though, he didn’t rebut instantly (which surprised you), instead his response was more measured and calculated.

“I am so sorry. And of course, I know because I was the one that hurt you too. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for that.” You nodded but given this conversation was happening through a door Tom didn’t see your gentle agreement - opting to fill the silence.

“I um… I’m not good at this whole um… speaking my feelings. But I’ve hated myself ever since I picked that fight with you. It was stupid and uh it-it was all my fault. I’m so so sorry for hurting you.”

“‘Why?” You tried to ask, except the words were stuck in your throat, making you have to clear it before asking again. “Why did you say it?”

“To get a rise out of you. It’s stupid and petty and fucking-fucking dumb. I said it not because I’ve ever thought it, I never ever have, but I knew it’d hurt you. I was preying on your insecurities because I was angry at the world and that was so unfair. “

“No shit.”

Silence reigned as you fiddled with your fingers - specifically with the promise ring he’d bought you a year ago.

“You-you think you could ever forgive me?”

“Thats the annoying part. I want to hate you because you literally stabbed me then twisted the knife but… but all I’ve done this week is miss you. Even when I saw Haz or Harry or Tuwaine. I just fucking missed you.”

“Can you open the door please love?”

Clumsily you scrubbed the tear tracks off your face, scrabbling to your feet so you could thrust open the doors. Because you might still be bloody pissed at him, but at the same time - you needed your Tom. Thrusting the door open, the first thing you registered was being pressed into Tom’s chest. His arms slinked around your waist and held him tight, which you reciprocated, squeezing tightly round his neck. Your senses were all being assaulted by one thing and one thing only. Tom.

He smelt like usual, except maybe the slightest bit stronger than usual - you figured he hadn’t showered in a day or two or bothered with cologne. The top of your forehead was pressed up against his chin, and as he readjusted his grip on you, you felt the scratchy feeling of his unshaven stubble. He kept whispering apologies against the top of your head, almost desperate and religiously.

Arching back, you brought both hands to cup his cheeks, looking into his glassy brown. eyes, which looked so lost and confused.

“I’m still angry.”

“Of course-“

“I’m still angry but I’m going to kiss you okay?”

Safe to say Tom didn’t require a verbal response, taking it upon himself to nudge his lips against yours, yet waiting for you to initiate the kiss. And that you did, everything else about this godforsaken week and a half. His index finger traced the angle of your jaw, whilst he held your lower back tight, pressing himself as close as physically possible to you. Needing you.

Eventually arching back, your thumb ran over his deep and sunken under-eyes, which added so much age to his face.

“You look tired Tommy.”

“Can’t sleep without you telling me goodnight.” That was another tradition you had had. Even when he was away, you’d even set an alarm for whatever bedtime was for the other across the world. Just so you could send a little message or voice not saying goodnight. Was it cringey? Yes. Did either of you care? No.

But since you’d been away all the evening wishes were absent from you. Which hurt Tom more than you may ever know.

“I know you’re still angry but will you please come home to me? I need you to be the last thing I hear at night and the first thing in the morning.”

would love to hear any feedback <333 (but think this is a bit of a shitter so im sorry!!!)

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