Thank You All For Being So Patient! I Have Had A Serious Writing Block, But I Ensure You That Promise

It's Hot To Punch a Blonde Guy in A Bar

Tyler Durden X Reader

⚠️ Warnings: Swearing, sexual innuendos, light nsfw, blood, use of drugs, reader is put in an uncomfortable position ⚠️

"Tyler?" You called from across the bar, wondering where on earth he went. He had ordered something and left you there to make it for him, walking away from it entirely so he could continue with whatever else was occupying him. With the cold drink in your hand, you glanced over both shoulders and wondered if maybe he ended up in the basement again. Where Tyler Durden was in Lou's Tavern was always a mystery. However; as you moved to set the drink back down, a familiar voice appeared from your left.

"Thanks." With this simple short and curt response, he took the glass from the bar and sat down haphazardly on the leather upholstered stools. Dark maroon jacket and contrasting bright blue shirt with palm trees, Tyler was really a sight to behold as he removed the large red frames from his face and put out his cigarette on the counter. You had told him numerous times to just take it outside, but he was Tyler Durden and if he wanted to do something, he did it.

Brushing away a couple strands of hair from the sides of your cheeks, you tried to force a smile on your face as you went to clean up the cigarette ash. He never made your job easy. Always leaving cigarette ash on the counter and a fight in his wake, you've just learned not to argue with him and go about your job.

Picking up another glass from the back, you move to serve the man directly to his right. This stranger had bright blonde hair- too bright- and a set of blue eyes to match. With an ugly black eye and fresh blood atop his lips, he went to grab your wrist to keep you there after you had handed him his order. This wasn't entirely out of the usual, this bar was dingy and gross and full of men who were even more disgusting. You considered it a good week when you didn't get sexualized for just breathing.

"Take your hand off me." You said in a firm but polite tone. If he tried anything stupid, you would kick him into next week.

Sighing, he moved the beer slightly away from him as he stared you up and down, taking in the sight before him and reveling in it. He seemed to like the fact that you were visibly uncomfortable and so he continued with his antics.

"Relax, Girlie. What do you say we get out of here?" He smiled and you could see that he was missing about four teeth.

"I have a better idea. Fuck off before I stab you in the face." He removed his grip from you and held up his hands in defeat.

"Woaahhhhh girlie is fiesty-"

Sometime between when he first opened his mouth and his lame gesture, you popped him right in the jaw, sending him tumbling backwards off his stool and onto the ground. There was a commotion now, the men at the bar looking at the blonde bitch as he held his face in his hands. All except for Tyler Durden, who stared directly at you with a half smile. He wouldn't admit it to himself right away but that was sexy as hell. Or, at least he thought so.

"You cunt." This kid spat out the name at you before trying to get up and steady himself against the counter. When his face came into view, you could see that his jaw was dislocated and blood was pouring out down the side of his mouth. You mentally high-fived yourself for breaking his face.

"Aww, want girlie to get you a band-aid?" You said in a mocking tone. This kid really pissed you off.

"Well I ought to-" he jumps up over the counter and reaches straight for your throat as you dodge away in the nick of time. The blonde boy throws himself into the cabinet of glasses and breaks a few of the ones in the very front. You steady yourself for a fight but you feel a hand on your shoulder and smell the familiar aroma of homemade soap and rust. Tyler held you back with a smile.

"I can take care of this one from here, thanks for warming him up for me."

Tyler crouched down to the man's level and held his face up by his ugly ass hair. The man now sported a couple fresh cuts, none of which were too serious except for the one above his eyebrow. That would need stitches.

"I'll have you know that you tried to hit my girl, Angel Face." Tyler stated as he banged the stranger's head against the floor once again and knocked a couple of teeth out. "This girl right here isn't in fucking Fight Club you sadistic fuck." Once again the stranger loses a couple more teeth.

Pound after pound and slap after slap, Tyler has to stop himself before things became too messy. Floor tiles were starting to pop up, for Christs sake. Blood ran through the lines in-between the tiles creating pretty red patterns in contrast against the green of the room. The man that Tyler referred to as Angel Face now had two black eyes and a deep gash by his forehead. Glass stuck out from spots in his hands as be gasped for air, blood bubbling up in his throat and involuntarily being spat out.

"Hey, let's get out of here before some human butt wipe decides to call the authorities." Lighting another cigarette, your boyfriend had the largest grin on his face. Even with the specks of the stranger's blood, you thought he looked hot as hell.

"Sounds like a plan." You said, and grabbed your purse from behind the bar. "Irvine, I'm clocking out early!"

With an arm around your waist, Tyler escorted you off the premises and towards the familiar house on Paper Street; puddles lined up against the sidewalk and broken bottles littering the grass. Thankfully the walk from Lou's wasn't too far and in no time, you found yourself within the confines of the wooden house with the horribly printed wallpaper. Kicking off your shoes and leaving them in the walkway to mess with Tyler, you go to grab the coffee cup printed robe that he wore so often from the back of the couch in the living room. It was getting colder as the seasons changed and you knew that it would be another difficult year of not being able to afford heat.

"So... About this Fight Club you mentioned earlier...?" You started, trying to make conversation. You had briefly heard whispers of the other guys talking about some club that took place in the basement of where you worked, but whenever you had asked, the men stated that they were sworn to secrecy.

"First rule, babe. Can't talk about it." You heard his voice from the kitchen along with the clattering of pots and pans. It was 12:17am, why the fuck was he making soap this early?

"Not even with me?" You walked into the kitchen and leant against the island in the middle of the room; surrounded by haphazardly placed cupboards and exposed wires from the ceiling. There was the smell of vinegar in the air and the stove kicked on, emitting a slight amount of heat on Tyler's side of the room.

"Nope. Although I might be inclined to share a few details about my daily habits if you let me have my robe back." He said with his back to you, busying himself with mixing the soap around with a spoon.

"What if you tell me everything instead? I deserve to know, I think." You said, lighting a cigarette from one of the boxes on the table.

"That's hardly a deal."

"I'll give you your robe back."

"It's mine anyways."

"I'll let you fuck me again."

Tyler put down the spoon and seriously contemplated your offer. His hair was sticking up in every direction and he still had yet to wipe the blood off his face from the catastrophe earlier.

"Before you go to work tomorrow?" He asked, raising his eyebrows in a ridiculous suggestive manner.

"Yes. Scout's honor."

Tyler turned the stove off and placed the contents of the bowl in the fridge. You never dared to open that fridge since you were sure you would find body parts or blood bags or some other weird shit in there. That's how you and Tyler thrived. He did murderous shit, you didn't pry. He gave you love and cared about you, you stayed out of his business.

Turning around, he places both his arms on the island directly across from you. His jacket had been cast aside so his short sleeved T-shirt allowed for a great view of the veins in his arms and hands. Sweat beaded slightly on his forehead and he licked his lips in anticipation.

"Fight Club. It's a place where the real heroes of society earn their praise for their dedication to life and the downfall of capitalism," he smirks and rubs your hand on the counter, "No girls allowed."

"Why not? I'm sure I could kick your ass. You saw me beat up that douchebag today." You said, with a glare directed towards Tyler's comment.

"See, there's a difference. Most of the guys get pleasure out of fighting each other because it lets loose some of their anger. For me, if you were to kick my ass that is, I would find it pleasurable purely because you're sexy and I love you."

You sighed with a slight smile to let him know you weren't angry. "You're impossible."

"Impossibly handsome?"

"Go back to making soap or some shit," you joked.

"I have a better idea." He scooped you up into his arms and pressed you against the wall, locking you in between his body and the structure of the house. He gave you one last look in the eyes before he went to work on kissing you softly at first, and then getting more and more rough and sloppy. Fingers intertwined in his hair, you kissed him back feverishly.

His hand then went to make a move against the side of your thigh, tapping alongside it with his fingers in a drumming motion as he continued to kiss you with an intense passion. You thought it was cute and waited for him to change his directory towards something more R rated and leave the PG-13 in the dust. Just as you had silently hoped, his hand moved up to the hem of your shirt, slowly rubbing circles on your side and making his way up slowly. Tyler liked to take his time with these things, you noticed. It was because of some poetic thingy probably; about how the world was caving in and we're all dying but we can take things slow sometimes and enjoy the moment.

"I thought you wanted it before I had to leave for work?" You asked with a knowing tone. Your boyfriend was such a wimp about these things.

"We can always stay up all night...." He stated in between kisses. He pulled away for a moment to look at you and your current position against the wall, taking in the sight before him. He didn't see a lot of beauty in the world, but you definitely held the most of it.

"We can't do that, remember what happened last time?"

Tyler stopped his motions and thought back to the time he had gotten a little too crazy from the exhaustion and the sex that he threw the furniture from one of the upstairs bedrooms out the window to make room for some of the weird shit he wanted to try. The desk drawers and the chairs as well as all the old magazines were still outside on the ground, spewed about in disfunctional chaos outside the second story window.

"Fine, then I'll wait until tomorrow." He said, taking the robe from you and slipping it on, walking upstairs.

"You bitch, Tyler! You set me up!" You said with a laugh and followed him up the stairs. The smell of soap slowly leaving you as you got closer and closer to Tyler's room at the top of the stairs.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. Are you gonna stay awake now?" He grinned and pulled you in close to him, opening the door with the heel of his foot and stumbling into the room with you in his arms as he made his way towards the bed. The door shut behind you and as the heavy wood made impact with the frame, a crack ran up the wall. Before you had time to register how much that would cost to get fixed, Tyler reached out and grabbed you from behind, pinning you onto the bed and leaning over you with the wildest grin on his face.

"Alright, Mr. Durden," you said as you twisted around and caught him by surprise, "I can stay up for a while." You caught his ankles and turned the two of you around so that he was now the one underneath and you were on top, straddling his waist. He took off the infamous coffee robe and threw it over the edge of the bed and watched as it hit the floor, lying back down again. His shirt was rising up, exposing the toned abdomen he had underneath, and his beautiful pale skin. His breath hitched as he watched you reach to remove the garment from his torso and then up above his chest and shoulders, removing it entirely from his frame. Your eyes practically drank in the image of him lying there shirtless and gorgeous as ever. The scars that littered his body glimmered under the soft glow of the candles used to light the house after dark (courtesy of no one ever paying the electrical bills). Your fingers went to trace over some of them, Tyler watching you with complete and utter admiration as you became lost in thought.

"Hey, everything okay?" He asked, watching how quickly your mood changed.

You smiled. "Everything is perfect, you're perfect."

Any anxiousness of his went away with your confirmation of his appearance.

"My scars?" He asked.

"Especially your scars. You're beautiful, Tyler."

This last sentence barely left your mouth before Tyler was lost in your kiss again, this time with more love than lust like before.

"Well," he said, "I don't want to die without any scars."

"Mission accomplished." You giggled and drew him in once more.

💛🦐

(A/N: I thought this concept of beating Jared Leto's character up and having Tyler think it was cute was something I desperately needed to write into a fanfiction. That was all it was going to be originally, until I read a Cliff Booth fic by @darling-i-read-it and fell in love with their writing towards Cliff's scars. The reader takes her time to go over each one in their story; making sure he feels loved and handsome as she talks about his past. I wanted to do something similar with the reader in my story as the reader is very in love with Tyler Durden. Thank you for inspiring my writing! You're truly one of my favorite creators on this app!!)

You can read their fanfiction here.

This is so cute 💛💛

Seo Moonjo SFW Alphabet

[The only alphabets on Seo Moonjo (from Strangers from Hell) are really dark and the reader's fairly innocent, but this goes along the lines of the reader being aware of what Moonjo does and him not being as cold and heartless towards them - so enjoy!]

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

I feel like Moonjo's fairly touch-starved, so he'll be a little hesitant and wary at first, but once you give him a hug and you're patient, he'll be legit addicted to hugs and kisses and stuff. He's not really one for PDA, in the sense that he won't do much more than stay close to you or hold your hand when other people are around, but when some poor guy tries their luck, Moonjo has... uh... his own methods of scaring them off, without having to get all touchy with you. He gives affection at random moments too, and there are a lot of times in the day you'll find him just staring with a small smile, but he's not trying to 'be offensive to you' 😂

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

It'd take a while for Moonjo to trust you like he trusts Eom Boksoon, but if you listen and don't cause chaos or whatever, he'll probably confide in you little by little. Maybe even tell you what he's planning before he does it? I guess it depends on how loyal and trustworthy you are. He'd put you first before the others and would be more protective.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Uh, yes. Definitely. Moonjo would most likely cuddle when you're at home alone together, where he's most vulnerable with you - needless to say, he's quite the tsundere. He'll cuddle in bed, like, in a very clingy way after he's gotten past the tensed-up and hesitant factor of being introduced to affection, and each time he'll open up a bit about his past and things like that. But it'll be a matter of keeping what he tells you quiet and not spreading it, or... yea. But you're trustworthy to him, so you're good 😜

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Moonjo can cook and clean really well, but once or twice a week he'll take you out to big restaurants and pamper you. Obviously, he's a cannibal, but he wouldn't force you into eating it if you don't want to. And if you do... he may or may not find that a hella hot 😏 Once you two have gone out for a few months, he isn't interested in anyone else, because to him, you're already a special masterpiece.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

The only way he'd ever break up with you is if you betrayed his trust in any way. And if you do that, he'd be pretty much impossible to reach by anyone else when they want to try to get close to him. He's learnt his lesson in placing trust on someone who doesn't value it, and won't ever make the same mistake again. But that's the only circumstance and a highly unlikely one.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Marriage isn't much of a big deal to Moonjo, since he already only has eyes for you. When he does ask you to marry him it'd be at a private and meaningful moment.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He's only ever going to be gentle with you, hands up. He's a great listener, and god help anyone that's giving you grief. He'll make sure that you're well looked after and if there's a day where you're not feeling your best, he'll cancel his workday at the dentist and stay with you, no problem. Since he hasn't been shown, like, any affection before you came into his life, it'd be very new to him but he'd catch on fairly easily and give you advice and hugs when you need them. If it's him that isn't feeling great, you'll do the same for him, which means a lot.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Like I've mentioned, he's very into cuddles and hugs and stuff, so when you two are alone, that's the hotspot for the fluffiness 💕 he's still a psycho, obviously, but he genuinely loves you and at this point will die and kill for you, and you're aware of what he does but don't let that put you off. So he does start the hugs often (he's actually an amazing hugger) and loves the attention.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

This milestone will take him some time, but once he fully trusts you and all, he'll tell you, or whisper it to you when you're in bed or when he thinks you're asleep. He'll say it a lot since he feels the need to assure you, and at the times he doesn't, he'll show you through actions (which I'll get to in a sec)

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He doesn't trust anyone fully apart from you, which makes him a very protective person. However, he gets that you need your freedom too and won't be overly possessive, but when a boy gets too close or tries anything, he'll give them a warning through one of his creepy/deep lines, and if they don't care then their teeth are added to his collection. People are obvious when they try stuff, so Moonjo will and does notice. If you're uncomfortable, he'll kill them without any warning, and if you want to watch or request anything, he's all ears.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

WoOw okay--

Moonjo likes forehead and cheek kisses, like, before either of you go to work or something, but he's passionate in actual make-out kissing and stuff. It's the best cure for his busy mind and he's addicted to it and you, so its gonna happen a lot

Especially at the times where he's had an annoying day and he just wants to cuddle and stuff, its on big time, and often leads to more sUgGeStIvE things 😂😂

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He doesn't hate them, but he doesn't love them either. He's used to dealing with them since he's a dentist and all, but he wouldn't be keen on the idea of becoming a father, because that complicates things and he grew up in an orphanage, so he won't know how to look after them too well and wouldn't want to 🤣

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

In the mornings he's most vulnerable and soft, and he'd drag out staying in bed for as long as he can, just talking and cuddling and kissing. And if someone in the apartment wants to interrupt for an unimportant reason... they're in a dangerous place.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Similar to mornings, but he likes to go on the roof with beer with you or just for midnight walks every now and then. You guys talk about your day and things like that, so to any normal person its all 'couple goals' haha

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It will take him a bit to open up to you since he hates the thought of himself being weak in front of others, but slowly but surely he does open up about the orphanage and killing his parents. When you're understanding and hear him out it'd make him fall in love more since he's never been in a close relationship like the one you two have and he'll do everything he can to keep you with him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

It'd be almost impossible to get him angry, and I doubt he'll ever get angry with you unless you betray his trust (which is already covered) He's an extremely patient guy, but if someone's purposefully causing trouble and mucking up his plans he'll just get rid of them.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Everything. He's a very observant guy, so he's gonna remember loads of what you reveal to him, but never look down on you because of anything you say. He has the same favourite author as you and remembers your hobbies, so dates and nights out will often include them.

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

His favourite moment was him watching you completely concentrating on a hobby and just looking so ethereal to him, so hard-core pining there no lies hehe

Or wearing his jumpers, that's another simp factor for soft boy Moonjo 💗

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Yep, Moonjo is a very protective boyfriend, and he's not in any way stupid, so you're his number one priority. He himself doesn't need much protection, but if you get any information he hasn't heard of and tell him it'll definitely help and it grounds his trust a lot too.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He spoils you rotten, ngl, so he'll put loads of effort into dates and handmade gifts and whatnot.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Um, let's see - cannibalism?? Maybe? 🤣🤣

As I've said though, if you don't like it he won't do it around you, but if you do then you share a common interest, and he's gonna LOVE it

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Moonjo is a little insecure about his scars, but with loads of praising and compliments from you, it won't bother him much. He looks after himself well, but he doesn't care much about how he looks to other people because they aren't important and don't mean anything to him.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely. He wants you there with him when he goes about his killings or just in general, and you're always on his mind when he's supposed to be working or when you're apart.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Moonjo has a knack for making... uh... original pieces of art like bracelets and necklaces, so he'll take ages on crafting specially thought out accessories and give them to you as gifts when he's done. Full-on simp when he sees you wearing them around, no lie 😍

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He loves every little thing about you, okay?! So the only weird and kind of disturbing habit he has is cannibalism, and if he knows you don't like it, he won't do it around you.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Clingy sleeper for sure. He's often the big spoon, but he's a light sleeper, so if you're having a nightmare he'll wake you up and comfort you, and if you try to get up you'll be practically yanked back into his embrace. Whispers sweet nothings a lot when you've both just woken up or are close to sleep.

So in conclusion, Moonjo is a psycho killer cannibal, but he'd never hurt or pressure you into anything. His only grip on sanity is with you, so give him a hug 🤣💗

Why is no one talking about the scene in volume one where Eddie literally dies in the upside down for like 2 minutes before being brought back to life by Steve’s mystical tears like in Tangled. And then they made out

The Love Triangle from Hell - Series Masterlist

Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: Nancy is with Jonathan; Steve is still in love with Nancy; You're in love with Steve; Eddie's in love with you; Robin just wanted to have a movie night but everyone is making it weird.

Warnings: messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; angst angst angsty angst; drinking; Robin literally just trying to live her life but her friends are all idiots

This series with be 18+ in later chapters MINORS DNI

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR (18+)

PART FIVE

ALTERNATIVE ENDING (18+) - coming soon

BONUS CONTENT:

Electric Touch (1)(2)(3) - coming soon

Hot & Heavy - coming soon

Brando - coming soon

Foolish One - coming soon

I think that what makes Steve and Eddie’s dynamic so immediately iconic and delightful, is that they have nothing in common except Dustin.

Like, we see them trying to bond a few times, and they are STRUGGLING because they have absolutely no common interest. Whenever they talk, we get gems like Eddie quoting the lord of the rings or mentioning Ozzy to a very confused Steve. They both think that the other is cool but they can’t SAY IT because they basically speak two different languages. It’s a nerd/goth and jock/prep desperately attempting communication, it’s awkwardly wholesome in the best way.

But THEN as soon as it’s about DUSTIN, these two just fucking click and shift full soulmates mode. Dustin does something a little weird or vaguely annoying, and suddenly Steve and Eddie get possessed by an old married couple that has been together for 35 years but also divorced 7 times and keep getting back together to raise their son. Dustin will just breathe, and suddenly Steve "the king" Harrington and Eddie "the freak" Munson are fucking drift compatible out nowhere like "this kid needs to keep his ego in check" "IT’S HIS TONE RIGHT???" or "Henderson you are a butthead" "oh I conclure" or even "Henderson is not possessed is he?" "Oh no he is just deranged"

Whether it’s platonic or romantic, otp or brotp, it’s just think that it’s objectively the most hilarious concept of all time and I want to see more of it in Volume 2 and season 5.

Hannibal

Macabre:

A referral to a new psychiatrist was supposed to be the worst thing you could think of. However, your new therapist is kinda hot.

Macabre (Part Two)

(Romance/Horror)

Close Call:

Dr. Chilton gets a little too close to Hannibal's wife; all the more reason to show the two of you who you really belong to.

(Romance /Horror)

Nigel Banyai X Will Graham:

DOGSDOGS: Will is called to Bucharest for an investigation following the aftereffects of Hannibal's death. Nigel wants to ensure his and Darko's safety and remain outside the eye of the FBI.

In progress!

(Angst/Fluff/Horror)

Hey,

First of all, I absolutely adore your writing style and in general your stories (especially the Hannibal ones). Could you please write one, where Hannibal is overly possessive, because he thought his wife got too close to Chilton at one of his dinner parties? And to end it all of there is smut. (If you are comfortable with that).Thank you for considering

Close Call

Hannibal Lecter X Reader

⚠️ Warnings: Over possessiveness on Hannibal's part, slight angst, swearing, mentions of blood and wounds, sociopathic and manipulative tendencies, uhh first time writing smut so hopefully it's okay (it's fairly light) ⚠️

I also didn't read through this again and edit it, so I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors!

Hannibal finds himself somewhat outraged at an overly confident Chilton getting too close to his wife. No matter, he'll just have to remind the two of you of what's his.

Dinner parties were nothing short of extravagant when it came to Hannibal Lecter's craft.

The wines were paired with the delicacies adorning the plates on the mahogany table; everything had its own respective place, down to the last spoon and fork on each intricately folded napkin. There was, of course, the smell wafting through the corridors of the Lecters' home, signifying the delicious meal being prepared in the kitchen and acting as bait to those mingling in the living room as they awaited the call to be seated. From your perspective, the table had to be crafted to perfection so that the party full of rich good-for-nothings had no complaints of the events of the night. Of course, you adored your husband's cooking, but less so you enjoyed the company he chose. Intelligence wasn't something that came from the accumulation of degrees and the bragging of doing so- in your opinion- but rather came from the passion associated with the understanding of others and their natural environments. In other words, conversations of nonsensical retellings of the rise to power and gathering of wealth that these particular guests had were of no interest to you. These people spoke of books on law and work projects as though they've forgotten entirely what it means to express humanity: experience.

But you were ever so careful to express your opinion on the subject of what it means to be human. Although you acknowledged your differing perspective, you didn't want to diminish the perspectives of those who might only know of the desires associated with "book smarts," and not what you referred to as "experience points." These two things could coexist, but it was often that a person leaned heavier towards either side. You still had more to learn about the balance of these, but alas, that is the human condition.

Hannibal loved you for this.

Being someone so intensely driven towards the path of psychology and law, it was refreshing being married to someone who expressed opposition to having that be the basis of every conversation. He loved a good conversation on written words and philosophers and mathematical expressions, but he loved even more to have someone in his life that kept him his understanding of biology and the preservation of his humanity. With his- er- hobby, as some would refer to it as- it became difficult to maintain this humanistic approach. These dinner parties served more as an obligatory social preservation to his image, so as not to be caught with his peculiar hobby.

And the culinary arts were his escape, anyways. A win-win except for the fact you'd be bored out of your mind talking to some of these people, he knew. Nevertheless, you had a polite smile etched onto your face wearing very presentable attire. You were a master at code-switching, it seemed, replacing your usually laid-back and outgoing personality with a more hoity-toity, reserved aura.

You had on a slightly more revealing outfit; a dress so navy it almost seemed black under any lighting that wasn't direct candlelight. This dress had been cut just above the knees with an off-shoulder neckline, exposing the very top of your chest and the beginning of your upper thighs. It was classily paired with silver earrings gifted to you by your husband, and a half up-do with your precariously crafted curls threatening to spill out of the fastened hairclip from behind. Hannibal had expressed just how lovely you'd looked as he helped you with your zipper earlier, placing a hemline of kisses to your collarbone.

He wasn't the only one who'd had this realization dawn on them during the night, however. A bright-eyed Dr. Chilton who'd received nothing short of a pity-invite, found himself drawing away from the conveniently placed appetizers to the lavish chairs facing the fireplace where you sat. He silently waited for your conversation to conclude before he decided to sweep in and take the woman's place on your right, finishing the glass of brandy in his hand before doing so.

"(Y/N)," He almost seemed exasperated, as if he were already slightly drunk, "A pleasure."

He reached out his hand to you in an attempt to get you to shake it as an overly friendly gesture, acknowledgement to his presence. You proceeded to smile at him instead, as you'd become familiar to his intentions.

"Hello, Dr. Chilton, how are you?"

His face flushed as he withdrew his hand from your space, opting to rest it against his leg as he sunk further into his chair, getting more comfortable. He was definitely drunk and if not drunk, then the far side of tipsy. You already didn't care for the guy much, so this chance encounter was a hinderance in your eyes before conversational topics even arose.

"You know, I never understood the drab curtains you chose for the interior of your living room, Mrs. Lecter. They block out all of the sunlight." He began, eyeing the bottle of scotch being poured out by another guest to the left of your chair. His eyes seemed to be glazed over as he spoke, however, the dimly lit fireplace seemed to cast some light back into them. His suit of choice was a corduroy one. The heavy material of the fabric already making him break out in a slight sweat.

Grimacing, you feign another smile as you fully acclimate yourself to the conversation at hand. You tell yourself to remember your polite flattery, but honestly with the way Dr. Chilton was, you knew he would take any sort of attention to his character the wrong way.

"Yes, that was the way we intended them to be, doctor. Have you ever been to our home during the daytime? It's not as drab as you may have perceived it to be."

Dr. Chilton had been coming onto you for quite some time now. Despite knowing you were wed and the many implications of your marriage you'd spoken about, he still managed to hold onto the hope that maybe one day something would spark between the two of you. It wouldn't. It hadn't. His blatantly disrespectful comments about yours and Hannibal's relationship were starting to burrow under your skin and take root in an uncomfortable fashion. Part of you felt bad for the man, another part wanted to sock him in the face.

Respectably, of course.

"Perhaps not. Maybe I spoke out of turn." He claimed, uneasily moving about in his chair despite his initial comfortability at the beginning of your dialogue. Maybe if you kept with the slight I-don't-like-you innuendos, then maybe he would be drunk enough to give it a rest and would return to his normal self come morrow.

"Maybe." You agree, taking a sip from your glass of Chardonnay. It was almost dinnertime. You could hold out until then, couldn't you?

"You know," Chilton began, staring deep into the fire and allowing a hushed sigh to escape your lips in anticipation of another redundant comment, "I used to set fires in Uni all the time. Its a miracle I graduated with any degree at all with the amount of trouble I used to get into as a boy."

Pause. Was there finally something worthwhile to discuss with this man?

"Really? And the occasion was...?" You asked, trying to direct the topic back to this small bombshell the Doctor had just dropped in your presence. Experience points were far more interesting to talk about than a poor understanding of the "48 Laws of Power," which was the last conversation you'd had.

He seemed to perk up in his chair realizing that you'd finally taken something that left his mouth with interest. "None, we were just playing with matches and grew bored. Only got caught because the wind carried the flames back to our dorm which almost set alight." He smiled and for a moment, you could see the memory replaying through those glossy eyes of his. You felt included, as if you'd been there yourself, watching the growing light of the flames dance around the edges of the matches you were playing with.

As if on cue, your husband's hand was gently but firmly placed on your shoulder from behind. You knew instantly it was him because of the wafting smell of his woodsy cologne and the wine he was drinking infiltrating your nose. His grip on you was polite but there was an edge to it, an unfamiliar one at that. Was something wrong?

Turning around, you see his darkened glare towards Chilton in the chair next to you. His matching dark navy suit making him look all the more professional and intimidating in this light; if you were Chilton you'd have run far far away from the glare Hannibal had. He seemed to pay no mind, however, eyes still focused on you until your husband broke the silence:

"Dinnertime."

It was at that moment that you noticed all the other guests had made their way to the kitchen and the three of you were the only ones in the living room. How long had you been talking to the doctor for? Hannibal's repressed anger suddenly made sense.

Walking to the kitchen, you were in awe at the sight before you. Hannibal had really put his all into tonight, and it showed. The plates were nothing short of art with the first course on display with accompanying sauces and garnish that turned them into something out of a museum painting. The entire get-up was something out of the Renaissance itself; everything in its perfect place. Hannibal stood at the head of the table, glass in hand as he prepared to make a toast to progress the night's dinner.

"I would like to thank you all for coming out tonight."

A collection of smiles and exchanged glances ensued, everyone pleased with their invite.

"Amongst this crowd are the most intellectual and inspiring people I've had the pleasure of getting to become familiar with. You're all of high accomplishments and achievements and I would like to thank each of you, individually, with a meal that encapsulates such dedication shown by you all."

Your husband then smiled at you and raised his glass.

"I would also like to thank my lovely wife, with whom I share this simple but joyous life with."

There was a hint of something there, something alongside the adoration he expressed for you on the daily. There was a twinge of that anger once more, but could it really be directed towards your conversation with Chilton? It seemed so clear to you that your husband surpassed the former in every way possible: intelligence and compassion, hell, down to the formal attire he adorned himself with daily. There was no way he would feel threatened by another man so unruly.

"Likewise." You said, tilting your glass up to the ceiling in acknowledgement of his kind and respectable words.

"Once more to reiterate, MY wife and I spent a long time on this meal so I hope you all enjoy it." He smiled a forced grin and directed his gaze towards Chilton. "And nothing on the menu for tonight is vegetarian."

...

The night was filled with more of the usual countless bantering between everyone in the room, trying to appeal more and more to everyone else. You were swept into what seemed like every conversation in the house and all of this sociability was starting to grow exhausting. The meal was phenomenal, to say the least, but did little to calm your worries with your husband's current expression of intolerance and dismay. You wanted nothing more than to head upstairs to your shared bedroom and to sort things out with him; to maybe end the night with a passionate kiss and to then retire to bed, finally. That desire, however, seemed like miles away because of the ongoing event that you were starting to despise more with every passing minute.

Not to mention, your dress was starting to get extremely uncomfortable, as if your skin were melting into the seams of the fabric.

As if on cue to make the night worse, Dr. Chilton was making his way towards you, undoubtedly much more drunk this time. He was stumbling over his own loafers and the floorboards were not his friend at the moment. He was making a fool of himself and you wanted so badly to just disappear.

Just then, the floorboard by the fireplace where you were sitting popped up in front of him. Everything from then went in slow-motion, the wood, the stumbling of Chilton's feet and the slow advancement towards the fire. Seeing how this would play out, you wanted to yell "Stop!" but you were frozen. Just as you had predicted, he had a horrid fall towards the open flame, his cufflinks connecting with the place stones and his right arm breaking the fall. His hand wasn't lucky enough to miss the fire, his scream instantly echoing throughout the room.

"Dr. Chilton!" Hannibal yelled, already to his feet with the pitcher of water from the charcuterie table. It was insane that his reflexes allowed him to respond instantaneously. Almost as if he had prepared for the doctor's fall. Springing the water onto Chilton, the fire was put out almost as quickly as it had started.

"Are you okay?" You asked the doctor, leaning down to his level on the floor, holding his now hurt hand.

"B-b-bandages." He was able to muster out.

The closer look you got to his hand, the closer you could see the wound. The flames didn't consume his flesh for very long, although there was now a coating of red on his skin alongside a few open gashes. Looking to your husband for help, you instead saw him standing above you, a scowl on his lips. He looked angrier than he'd ever before and the sight of it scared you. Had he been angry that the party was ruined? That one of his guests were hurt?

Chilton was then led to the kitchen where his wounds were properly addressed and tended to. The aid kit that had collected dust on the top shelf of the medicine cabinet had finally been put to use, and, upon further inspection, it had been decided for the doctor to call for an ambulance for a more professional treatment.

He left. Everyone followed suit. It was now only you and your husband.

"I'm sorry that had to happen the way it did." You said, reaching out to touch his shoulder and soothe him in my way you could. "Would you like me to help you clean up?"

He mumbled something under his breath before he made his way up the elongated glass stairs. It was unbelievably peculiar for him to retire to bed this early, especially before cleaning up from a party.

"Is something wrong?" You asked, voice coming out as nothing more than a feeble whisper. He stopped in his tracks, his blazer now resting atop his free arm opposite to the one holding the railing. His tie was loosened and from where you were standing, you couldn't see his face all that clearly.

He finally spoke up.

"What are your intentions with Chilton?" He asked.

You stopped in your initial tracks to follow your husband up the stairs. Was he accusing you of courtship? And with the doctor of all people?

"Whatever do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean, (Y/N)."

Your heart broke for a moment, there was no way he really thought that after years of marriage, after what you had come to learn about him and his... capabilities...that you would choose another man, albeit in front of his own eyes?

"I have no intentions with Chilton, Hanni. Not as an acquaintance, not as a friend, not as a lover." You continued to follow him up the stairs and to your shared bedroom where he placed the blazer and tie on the bedside table rather than hang it up as he usually did. He undid his cufflinks and unbuttoned the top his neckline.

"I only want you, Hannibal. You know that."

He pursed his lips and finally, from where he leant against the bed, looked up at you standing in the doorframe. Your expression was a worried one, not of someone who had underlying intentions. Hannibal knew what you wanted, knew who you wanted, but Chilton had gotten the better of him tonight. And besides, tormenting the two of you to remind both of you who you belong to was a much more satisfying game to play.

"Alright." Hannibal said, accepting your validation with his thick, Danish accent. "Show me."

"I- what?" You asked, being taken aback completely by surprise. His eyes were dark with thoughts you had grown to be all too familiar with from him. Despite clearly understanding his interpretation of the words, you still stood frozen at the door, waiting. There was something about this that wasn't going to be as sweet as the usual slow and sensual intimacy you'd had with your husband and you knew this fact.

Just then, as if taking your hesitance as permission, he stands and walks over to you, the height difference ever so apparent now that you were face to face. His gelled hair was now starting to come undone, as was yours, as he held your gaze. His hand came up to tuck your hair behind your ear and then trailed to your neck, your collarbone, your breast. He then allowed his hand to go further, down to your waist and then pulled you into him, holding you there as gently but firm as one could be. He was watching your face as he did so, never breaking eye contact even once.

Your breath hitched in your throat. A growing warmth developed in your midsection as your husband had you entranced with his every move. He was enjoying this, enjoying you, enjoying the situation he put you in. He had turned on his more sadistic side and it was becoming evident with the way he progressed down your body, replacing his hands with kisses and moving towards your thighs then back up, as if with haste, towards your mouth. You felt as though you were going to faint right then and there.

He suddenly stops his kisses and then goes to finish unbuttoning his shirt. His wide frame was revealed with every unfastened button popping off, slowly but surely. Every inch of his skin had been crafted to the likes of the gods, it was as if he were one of them himself. No imperfections in his skin as far as the eye could see. He was beautiful. He was the divine definition of beauty itself.

He swiftly moved his hands to your throat, fingers following suit as he held you there, against the bedroom wall, a juxtaposition to his masterfully divine beauty of feigned innocence. His breath was hot but not unpleasant as he whispered into the nape of your neck:

"You belong to me."

And that was all it took for you to fold entirely, becoming a puppet to his every command, desires of the flesh being the only thing on both your minds. You needed him and he needed you to need him. He wanted a full surrender, a full understanding that he was the only man you'd ever be able to fulfill these lustrous fantasies with.

"Do you understand?" He asked, not giving you a second to think any further before he moved you from the wall and to the bed, where he towered over you.

"Y-yes." You said, waiting to see what he would do next.

"Good. Now take it."

Confused, you looked up at him but he had already had other plans, flipping you into your stomach and forcing himself inside you, under your dress. The instant burn that you felt was replaced by immediate satisfaction as you saw stars. Through this position you could feel him inside you, hot and intense, pushing deeper and deeper until he bottomed out. He dug into you until he was all you could feel, hear, taste, see. He was owning every inch of your skin and forcing you to feel it.

And you loved it.

"Who do you belong to?" He asked, anger laced in his voice.

"You." You tried your best to get out with the intense feeling between your thighs but it was next to impossible.

"What was that?" He asked once more, forcing you to say it louder.

Just as you were about to respond, he picks you up and turns you around to face him, taking in his expression. You were on your knees looking up at him, tears in your eyes at the intensity of what had just happened. Your dress was definitely ruined by this point but you couldn't care less.

"You." You said, waiting for him to say something, anything at all. He placed his finger on your lips and smiled down at you while he toyed with them. He then put himself inside of your mouth, your jaws stretching to be able to take him.

"Good." He said, quickening his original pace as he sighed with content. You allowed him to finish before the two of you fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and bedsheets.

He was holding you in his arms now, making sure you were alright as he kissed the top of your head and face, looking at the marks he'd left on your skin. He'd make sure those were more visible the next time someone tried to intrude on your guys' company. Especially on a pity invite.

He'd also make sure not to let Chilton off with a warning next time, making sure to purposely set his entire body on fire, not just his hand.

But you were asleep soundly in his arms, full of him and he had won.

...

A/N : Hello! This is my first time writing smut kinda so I hope this is up to par with some other fanfic writers. I really hope this fulfills your request! Lmk if anyone has any other requests, my ask box is open! 🫶

Cute things that you and Johnny do

Pairing: Johnny x Reader

Warnings: Overly affectionate Johnny 😩

This man loves you with all his heart

And he finds every way possible to show you

Buys you flowers when you've had a long day at work

Gives you back massages when you're tired

Offers you his clothes when you're lonely

And buys you strawberries when you get hungry

But y'all always do really cute things to tell each other how happy you are

You sleep snuggled into his side, your face buried in his chest and his arms wrapped around you

And if you don't, he had a hard time sleeping; if he sleeps at all

You have a habit of playing with his fingers when you snuggle

And holding his hand when you walk together

Kissing each other's foreheads

Snuggling ALL THE TIME

Johnny is a snuggler

So he always finds a way to hold you, whether you're out, if you're at home, if you're asleep, you name it

He's very comfortable with PDA

In fact, he gets confused when sometimes you're shy about your relationship around other people

You tell him it's just because you haven't been in a relationship for a while

He understands, and you eventually get used to Johnny's means of affection

Talking walks through forests under trees and watching the water

It's always like something out of a fairytale

And he manages to pack a lunch for the two of you; apple and ranch sandwiches

You wipe off the extra ranch that dripped on his chin

He gets slightly embarrassed, he's used to doting on you, not so much the other way around

When it's time for bed,he wraps you up in your shared giant duvet

And he carries you to the bedroom zoo wee mama

And he puts on your TXT sleep playlist to help you drift off peacefully

He's so hot wtf

JOE KEERY as WALTER “KEYS” MCKEY Free Guy (2021) | Dir. Shawn Levy

I’m going to cry my eyes out after seeing this, this is so sweet

💛🦐

I was planning to take a small social media break but I saw the amazing headcanon that Argyle and Billy might have been friends in California! It such a sweet idea that I just had to draw something with that :) There’s something so special about childhood friendships and having seen someone through everything including growth spurts and the preteen awkward phase! And in a scenario where Billy lived, seeing that pizza van would be like some sort of miracle after everything he’s endured.