#so I’m not in any way denying that his life is objectively difficult and that there are obstacles that none of us can relate to

[just-rogi]

I’m moving out in five weeks and last night I snapped at my roommate who had been a dick to me all year (for something reasonable and justifiable) and ik I shouldn’t feel bad but I totally do lol

All year has been the oppression Olympics any time any of us is upset about anything and like.. I reminded him last night that he isn’t the only minority in the apartment and he was pissed

[ciaossu-imagines]

Hibari Kyoya and grief

You know how everyone says there is all these different stages of grief? Not to Hibari, there’s not. There’s really only one stage of grief to him, one emotion he really feels comfortable feeling and expressing in the wake of losing something in his life. Of course, everyone knows what I’m going to say that one emotion is. It’s very obvious, just in how he deals with life in general, in how he interacts with the world, and who he is as a person. Grief, as expressed by Hibari, is not just anger, but an almost primal, animalistic level of rage.

Now, straight out of the gate, I want to say that I don’t think Hibari really grieves anything small. Small things that might make other people stop and grieve a little, things like losing an important object to them, things like their favourite show being cancelled, a character they adore being killed off, their favourite eatery going out of business, their favourite t-shirt getting too worn out to wear – none of these things really affect Hibari much at all. He’s not a materialistic person in any sense. He tends to lean the other way, in fact, where his life is quite minimalistic in nature. He does not need a lot of objects and things to be satisfied in his life and when something gets lost or breaks, because he doesn’t have an attachment to it, he’s fine with just replacing it. He doesn’t really have an interest in media, so there’s very few shows or movies he watches enough to get attached to them, and he finds it difficult to really gain any attachment to fictional characters. While he definitely has establishments he prefers to frequent, if they are going to close down, Hibari sees no point in grieving that. Instead, Hibari views grief as useless in these situations and would rather take action. And with the level of influence and power that Hibari has in Namimori, the action he takes is normally enough to ensure that what he wants to stay open stays open and successful.

He’s really a man who would rather do something about a situation than to grieve over it. And in his mind, there is always something he can actively do rather than sitting around, moping and wallowing in self-pity like some pathetic sack.

This attitude really will extend to the grief he would feel about slightly more serious things. Though Hibari would not get into relationships or friendships easily, someone walking out of his life isn’t out of the question. He will feel emotions about that, he will feel some sort of grief about that. To most people though, his reaction to this type of grief, and to larger amounts of grief, is going to appear absolutely cold-hearted. He will not cry or seem sad about things like this. It’s just not in his nature or his character. He remains almost emotionless, and any mention of his loss only results in replies that seem completely apathetic in nature, even down-right rude and dismissive towards the person who left him. He seethes in his grief though, in his anger, and to him, the only logical thing is to do something about all that anger he is feeling.

If at all possible, he will directly confront the person who has chosen to leave his life. It’s not that he wants them to remain, because he does not. He has absolutely no use for someone who, to him, has proved themselves capable of betraying him, of dismissing him. His grief is directly related to his own ego in these cases, and it’s part of what will fan the fire of his aggression and rage. He would prefer to settle things with that person completely, to get closure, often through violent means, and if he is denied that, Hibari will take it out on innocent people around him. Once he has been allowed to really work out everything he’s feeling on someone else’s body, once he has smashed in someone’s ribs, felt the satisfying snap of someone’s arm breaking under his hands, he feels more in control of himself again. He feels more finality, feels his ego is back in place, and he’s more able to shove the grief into the furthest back recesses of his brain and move forward as if nothing at all had happened.

Even when it comes to major grief, Hibari would be judged as being very cold-hearted by those around him in his approach to this sort of grief. There are really only three things in the world that Hibari will truly grieve fully, will truly feel that level of emotion towards – someone in his life, who is truly important to him, like Kusakabe for instance, dying is one. Though he pretends like he doesn’t love them, Hibari does love his animal companions, and their deaths will weigh heavily on him, at times even more so than the death of a human person, so that’s number two. Number three is anything destroying Namimori. Something terrible threatening Namimori or outright destroying it, like the fury of nature, would absolutely cause Hibari to grieve.

However, much like with the smaller amounts of grief, Hibari doesn’t cope by allowing himself to feel sad. It’s not that sadness isn’t something that Hibari is capable of feeling. He, for sure, does feel sadness and despair and hurt at these moments of major grief. It’s just that Hibari does not deal with those emotions well. He just doesn’t know how to deal with him. They’re foreign to him, they make him distinctly uncomfortable to feel. In a way, he does feel like those sorts of emotions are the emotions of the weak, and it makes him a little sick to find them rising in himself. Because of this, he does everything he can to change those feelings, to funnel and convert them into anger, just pure and simple rage and hatred towards whatever caused that grief. That kind of emotion is something Hibari can chain down. It’s something he’s far more comfortable with feeling, an emotion he views as more appropriate, an emotion he can take control of.

With all that rage in him, he pushes himself to take action. He not only wants to be doing something but needs to be doing something. Sitting and dealing with his emotions is not something that he will let himself do in the face of grief – instead, his sole purpose is just to do something, anything about that grief. In the case of his animal companions passing on, that action he can take is burying them. Digging the hole gives him something physical to focus on and that helps him. He always buries them alone, with no one else around to see him. I do think this is because, once the animal in question is buried and Hibari has accomplished that action, this is the one moment he allows himself to soften even the least little bit. This is when something has been fixed enough to him for him to allow himself to say goodbye to his precious animal companion, to thank them for their service to him. It’s a moment he would not be able to allow himself around another living person.

In the case of a death of someone in his life, the action Hibari feels he can take is revenge on whoever caused the death or devoting himself, in some physical way, to carrying on that dead person’s legacy. Even if the person themselves died from natural causes, because of old age or due to a sickness, Hibari can find someone to pin the blame on for their death – the doctors didn’t do enough. The hospital was at fault. There’s opposing families encroaching on the Vongola, daring to besmirch the legacy of Tsuna or the other Guardians. There’s always someone that Hibari can pin responsibility of that grief on because he needs to be able to do so. He needs to be able to fight someone or the idea of something. He needs something or someone to take action against for anything to be okay for him. He cannot allow himself to move on until that is done.

And, of course, during all the time he is grieving, Hibari is going to be more short-tempered than normal. He will withdraw even more into solitude, will prove more violent and easily provoked, will start displaying more misanthropy.

[gracelaurie]

Falling into your ocean eyes 🌊❤️ | Orm Marius x Fem!Reader

Part 5

Warning : just harsh words, no other warning. The next part would be a real smut

A/N : This is set after the end of the Aquaman and The Lost Kingdom movie. 🥰

for the next part ➡️ masterlist

She put all her clothes in the cupboard into her suitcase. She had to admit, for the past 4 years living without relying on her magic powers had been very difficult.

She has 3 large ones containing her clothes. She works as an accountant in a fairly well-respected company. That made her have quite a lot of money. But yesterday she just officially left her job because she was going to face something new.

She realized that he couldn’t hide forever as an ordinary human being, and that was not her way of life. Her current path in life is with the son of Queen Atlanna and Arthur Curry's half-brother…Orm Marius.

She closed the zipper of his very large suitcase, then took it out of the house.

“Do you want to go now?” Mera asked Y/N while she holding her baby who’s crying more and more. She motioned to her younger-sister to come back into the house for breakfast.

“Yes, I know it's early, but I can buy breakfast on the street.” Y/N replied with a smile.

“Well, I think you want to meet someone…” Y/N heard Arthur's voice say that, then she quickly turned her head.

She saw a man with blonde hair, ocean blue eyes that looked like waves caught in sunlight from the morning sky. His body looks muscular and healthy, and once again for good measure... his eyes look happier than before. A pure happiness. She didn’t see any sadistic or evil King in those eyes. All she saw were calm ocean blue eyes. Calm waves.

Orm wears shirt with a picture of a whale and pants like most surface dwellers. That simple thing made Y/N laugh softly. It’s funny for her to see Orm who now really looks like a surface dweller even though he was previously the evil king of Atlantis and wanted to start a war with the surface.

It’s different now. And she really liked that.

Y/N and Orm simultaneously ran over like children and hugged each other. This was completely beyond his expectations. Orm tucked a strand of Y/N’s brown hair behind her ear then kissed her lips gently.

“Your lips taste the same as in my dream,” said Orm, stopping the kiss.

Y/N smiled, “because it was real.”

“But how?” Orm asked then continued the kiss.

Y/N postponed the kiss and said, “you can never think about it logically. But it was all real. I deliberately made you think that it was just a dream.”

“So you bewitched me 5 times, basically because you really have a huge crush on your Ocean Master?” Orm teased Y/N, then Orm kissed her passionately.

Y/N stopped kissing, “That's not really the main point. I’m even a surface-witch how can I like you that much?” Y/N smiled holding back laughter.

“You may be able to bewitch me very cleverly and play with my mind, but you are not good at lying.” Orm answered. When Y/N tried to deny it and wanted to say something, Orm quickly kissed Y/N so that her mouth was covered with Orm's lips which were full of hunger and desire.

“Okay this is enough.” said Arthur objecting. It turns out they just realized that there were still other people around them.

“Are you coming in for breakfast or…..are you guys leaving straight away?” Arthur said that because he saw his brother's closeness to Mera's very romantic sister. This will seem strange, but there are no specific prohibitions in their relationship. King Nereus and Queen Atlanna themselves even matched them.

“Are you really asking that?” Mera asked with a smile indicating that she knew that Y/N and Orm would soon be spending time together.

Y/N quickly hugged her sister tightly. She felt guilty at the same time. She indirectly became Orm's mistress when Orm was still engaged to Mera. Y/N knows that Orm and Mera don't really love each other, but Y/N still feels that she has betrayed her own sister.

For the past 4 years, Y/N has lived in the same house as Mera on the surface, but the two of them never really talked about Y/N's relationship with Orm, but now it feels like Mera and Orm had forgotten their past events as if the engagement had never happened.

“Take care of yourselves….” said Mera while looking at Y/N and Orm alternately.

“And let us know when you guys ready…” said Arthur teasing them about the wedding plans ordered by Queen Atlanna.

Orm and Y/N simultaneously shook their heads. Y/N said, “Definitely not now.”

“Definitely not.” Orm agreed.

***

The burger they ordered was delivered by the waiter. Orm was impressed by his burger and potatoes. Actually, Y/N is not used to having breakfast directly with heavy food, but to satisfy Orm's curiosity, they had breakfast with burgers and potatoes that morning after leaving Arthur’s house.

“Do you like it?” Y/N asked with a smile.

“Yeah.” Orm said briefly because he was still trying to digest the taste of the burger.

Y/N smiled at Orm who was the first to eat surface food. Again it was really funny to her.

“How do you stay skinny when everyday surface foods are like this?” Orm asked confused, but at the same time he really enjoyed his burger.

“I don't eat food like this all the time. Arthur is like that,” said Y/N smiling faintly, “I eat a balanced food, such as vegetables, fruit and fish.” Y/N said.

“Fish?” Orm raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, you can’t be angry because that is also our staple food. but we don't eat it raw, we usually process it.”

“Process it? How?” Orm asked.

“Well, we are usually fry it, or you can also—“ Y/N's words were cut off when Orm suddenly took the cockroach that was next to Y/N’s hand.

She screamed because she just realized that the cockroach had been beside her all this time. It’s kinda weird because she is literally a powerful witch but still has a huge phobia of cockroaches.

“Why are you screaming?” Orm asked in surprise then put the cockroach into the burger.

“Why the fuck you put that dirty cockroaches in your own burger?” Y/N screamed.

“This is mainland shrimp, right?” Orm asked innocently then chewed the burger containing cockroaches with a crunchy sound.

Y/N held back her disgust and said, “Please don’t tell me Arthur fooled you again?”

“What do you mean?” Orm asked in surprise, and finishing his burger.

“Well actually it's up to you, but some of us surface dwellers are disgusted by cockroaches.”

“Why? You should eat it next time. It’s delicious—“

“No thanks.” Y/N said quickly.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

Reblog this if you want readers to come into your ask box and ask for the “director’s commentary” on a particular story, section of a story, or set of lines. 

Seeing as I’ve just finished reading part 5 of Under Orders I want to ask you about it.

One thing I love about your stories is that you have what I think is a great understanding of psychology and power dynamics in sexual relationships (I’m explaining this very poorly, sorry) And you manage to communicate these things very well in your stories. I appreciate it a lot because I am totally clueless about these things.

Example is when reader understands what Sy’s place is in her little universe. It’s a couple of paragraphs and, even if it’s in the middle of a pretty amazing sex scene, it is just so RIGHT. Like, I know reader is me but I had the same epiphany as her!

So please give us any insight or info on how the addition of Sy to this little universe came to be or where it’s going?

Thank you so much for this question!!!!! I love it. Let me put this under a cut because it's a little bit of an essay...

Partly because I get to blame @deandoesthingstome without thinking twice, because it's 2100% her fault that Sy even made an appearance in this series! She started this, it's her fault, she did it, it wasn't me, Charlie's responsible, I was powerless against her charms.

(I know damn well I didn't have to write it, like... She didn't put a gun to my head, I was free to do whatever I wanted. And apparently, after a whole ass while... This is what I wanted.)

Now, I'm not denying Sy is hot stuff, okay? I'm not even going to bother pretending that I wouldn't think twice about taking that beard for a ride if I was ever presented with the opportunity.

But he's not my go-to guy, and probably never will be, which definitely didn't help in figuring out his place in this arrangement — which is when I realized that trying to force him into it the way I was trying to do was never going to work, and that there was a strong possibility that reader would be having the same struggle when it came to that subject.

And so, Charlie is still waiting on that hot foursome, and I still have hopes that it will happen some day, but I really do need to stick to my usual approach and let my characters do the talking instead of trying to force them into something they're not ready for.

And to a degree I think the research and understanding of these dynamics make that even more difficult. Because I want to get it right. I need it to make sense.

Because I know August "Will Kill For Her" Walker loves reader and doesn't want to hold her back, so he knew he had to give her the space to explore it. He knows she loves him and he's certain this won't come between him and reader because he trusts her like he's never trusted anyone in his life.

... Except maybe Walter, who he's known for years (since college). He decided to share the woman he loves with his best friend. And he doesn't trust Sy that way.

Walter isn't exactly a quick study when it comes to trusting someone, either. So I know there's a relationship to be built there.

Like, the objective going in was "write porn" but sometimes (most of the time) that's not enough (for me. It's a perfectly valid way to write, of course!!! But I do need to know why they're fucking, and in this specific case there's the issue of how it impacts everyone else involved in this relationship.)

I'm also lucky enough to have a bunch of wonderful queer friends, and some of them tell me all the lovely tales (and the drama! So. much. drama) of their lovely non-monogamous relationships, and it's taught me a lot.

And, in a way, this fic has taught me a lot. Because it was never supposed to turn into this polycule. It was supposed to be a relationship between reader and August, and a more or less platonic arrangement between reader and Walter — until it wasn't. And with the addition of Sy, there's a whole new side of this relationship to explore. One I'm really excited about, and really eager to delve deeper into.

I know not all of their story has been told yet.

So I guess what I'm really trying to say is... Thank you, Charlie!

[mycptsdrecovery]

To the person who sent this ask:

https://at.tumblr.com/mycptsdrecovery/hi-im-sorry-to-ask-this-really-because-it-feels/fepccd6vfm9e

So first off I want to apologize because this message is probably gonna fuck your shit up a little bit. But for me at least, clarity brought peace. I hope this helps you put the pieces together and can bring you some comfort to know that you are not alone, what happened to you was very real and incredibly traumatic, and that you are incredibly strong for living through that. You’re obviously very smart and you’re asking the right questions- keep it up.

I read your post and I know exactly what happened to you. You had a VCUG. I had it done too, multiple times when I was 3. It took me literally 20 fucking years to figure out what that was and what happened to me. When I read the Wikipedia page, it was like I got hit in the head with a brick so brace yourself before you look it up. The procedure has literally every characteristic of a sexual assault, and I have lifelong sexual trauma from it. It’s used as a tool in research for studying memory related to CSA, because ofc you can’t abuse children to get data- but the VCUG is “medically necessary.” I think it’s almost worse in a way because it’s more like a gang rape WHILE YOUR PARENT IS WATCHING, and you’re not even seen has an object of attraction- it’s dehumanizing, and the denial of autonomy over your own body has serious, long term effects. It set me up for a lifetime of other sexual trauma- by the time I was 6 I was already showing hypersexual behavior. I never learned how to set any boundaries. Period. If you learn as a child that you don’t even have privacy *in the bathroom by yourself*, layered with the confusion and embarrassment of the experience (I was being potty trained, and then all of a sudden I’m in a radiology room and my mom is telling me I have to pee on this table in front of all these people??) seriously fucked me up, at least.

I spent literally my entire life not knowing why I was so fucked up, not knowing why I was so deeply traumatized when nothing (that I knew of) happened to me. It’s agony, and I blamed myself and lost myself in addiction and anorexia. Funnily enough, Ive always gravitated towards people who had serious childhood trauma. I’d hear their stories, and understand the feelings, but I never had a “story” of my own. It made me feel like an imposter, because it wasn’t like I got raped by a family member or something more “textbook”. Nobody talks about VCUG trauma even though thousands of kids go through this every year. It’s a faceless trauma, there’s nobody to blame (which makes it even more difficult to cope with imo)

There’s like one (1) support group on Reddit with 70 members, which is the largest to my knowledge. I was thinking of maybe starting a blog because there’s a lot of older people on reddit (like 5-10 yrs older than me at least) and I think that growing up Online with that trauma and 24/7 access to violent adult content is a totally different experience. But all of the emotions they talk about are the same, I’ve always kinda felt like nobody could understand what it’s like to be in my head, but reading that subreddit made me realize that I’m not The Most Fucked Up Person Who Has Ever Lived. And I learned how the trauma has formed every facet of my personality. Like I’m an anxious control freak who feels no sense of ownership over my body- surely that has nothing to do with this foundational traumatic memory of being denied control over my most basic bodily functions, right? Much to think about lol

You’re not crazy, and what you went through is unfortunately very real. I’m assuming that you’re still a teenager or a very young adult so you may not have gotten a yeast infection since you were a kid, but I think that the white stuff/medicine you were describing was monistat for a yeast infection. It’s a suppository, so there’s a like plastic plunger you put this white egg on, and then you put it in your vagina and push it up to your cervix, and the medicine leaks out over the course of a couple days. So it doesn’t surprise me at all that you would remember that, someone put a foreign object inside of you that was itchy and gross.

And for the record, your parents are *Very* Bad At Boundaries!!! If they can’t be the adults and set healthy boundaries, you have to. Its perfectly okay to say “I don’t want to talk about that” or “you’re making me uncomfortable, please stop touching me”. You didn’t have a voice when you were a kid, but you have one now. Trust me, I know it’s fucking scary and feels impossible- but do it once, and you’ll be hooked on the feeling forever.

I figured everything out last year (I’m about to turn 24), and I’ve been in therapy which has been super helpful. For me at least, EMDR has really been great for reprocessing those memories, and so has hypnotherapy exercises for being able to get into my subconscious. If you’re gonna look for one, you need a trauma specialist. Don’t fuck around with like a school counselor who mainly does “I’m depressed sometimes” therapy. If you’re anything like me, you need Serious Help.

I love you internet stranger- everything’s gonna be okay. You’re not alone, and it is possible to heal ❤️ I hope this brings you some peace

.

[dreamwritesimagines]

It’s CMA-

Whenever I reply to your replies about what I’ve said, I feel like we’re that spider-man meme just pointing at each other and jumping up and down lmaooo

When Anthony stops Ben from pursuing clover, how much of that do you think was less so an objective gesture of goodwill and more so a reflection of his (and a lot of people in the ton’s) view of love, especially as he’s seen in his own life.

What I mean about this beyond the fact that everyone in the ton, despite being enamored with the idea of love, they don’t try that hard to pursue it (look at how rare love matches are) but also how Anthony protects himself (at this point in the story) by denying himself the idea of love (namely with lottie).

His idea is that he’s protecting her, but he’s also protecting himself in a lot of ways too. Anthony thinks that he’s protecting everyone by not falling in love, and he’s encouraging Ben to do the same, not because he wants to keep Ben from pursuing love, but because he wants to protect him from the pain it might cause.

It’s the sort of catch 22 that every person who loves another must struggle with (especially parents and parent types): we want good things to happen to those we love without any of the risk. I suppose we want this for ourselves too, now that I think about it.

It’s the simple failing to realize that not only is the good thing attainable because of those risks, but that that’s also why it’s so meaningful. It’s difficult to balance and know what the right risk/reward is, so most people error on the side of caution. Ben is very much the type to play a high risk/high rewards game, which pays off, but really shows a lot about the stakes that everyone else balked, despite their admiration of the reward (love in this case).

Idk it’s just super interesting to think about imho

Also re: our other convo: I think that both allergies and intolerances can start at any time! Our bodies are weird like that lol

Also I still hate mushrooms lolololol. I can tolerate cabbage if something is masking the taste, but I don’t prefer it. It’s a texture thing for me when it comes to the other things though. I’m really weirdly specific about the textures of things I’ll eat, so mushrooms are a no-no in my book.

Also yes soap boxes!! I’m the exact same way! Any soap boxes coming to mind right now?

Omg we definitely are like that meme😂

I think it was a mixture of both! Like, I definitely think Anthony's own perspective of love played some part in it, especially now that we know he has been in love with Lottie that whole time❤️ But like, even before that, protecting and putting his family first is a second nature to Anthony at this point❤️

And there was also the fact that Clover is incredibly different than Benedict😁 And Anthony heard all kinds of things about her, because the ton was buzzing with gossip when she was first introduced😁 She's more of a riddle, no one knows all that much about her and she has zero interest in letting them know anything about her, and Anthony does NOT like riddles, nor does the ton😏

They are all used to the debutantes being a certain way, and Clover had already started breaking it on her first outing, refusing to smile at anyone😂

So I think Anthony did not want Benedict to get his heart broken, but also he knew he would eventually fall in love ❤️ He was just hoping it wasn't someone like Clover ❤️

Benedict on the other hand was already obsessed after their first interaction for the very same reason, that she doesn't fit the type of an "ideal debutante" 😈

YES! Now that we're talking about vegetables, I have many opinions about okra aka lady's fingers! 😂

So first of all, you know how there are some things in the world which are totally edible, and some are poisonous and there is a 3rd category where it's like "eh you could eat it but why would you"? OKRA IS A VEGETABLE UNDER THE THIRD CATEGORY

I refuse to believe anyone would willingly eat that vegetable(🧐?) , and I think we were supposed to leave that alone but nope, we convinced ourselves it was something edible and now the rest of the humankind is stuck with this idea-

[bratz-kitten]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS PT. 7

gemini and pisces placements are similar in the sense that geminis are able to see things from all perspectives, while pisces are able to empathise with people who have all sorts of different perspectives. pisces placements... be careful with over-empathising with the people who hurt you to the point where you’re understanding why they did it and you start excusing their actions. gemini placements... be careful with seeking the multi-layers and million different perspectives in everything and everyone to the point where you’re driving your own mind insane and you don’t know what your opinion is anymore because you hyper-analyse so much. too much of a good ability becomes a curse.

people with venus-mars aspects have a talent for making people who hate them fall in love with them 💋

moon in the 11th house natives tend to attract friends who get into scandals. moon in the 10th house natives tend to be the ones who get into said scandals. it’s a PERFECT FRIENDSHIP

capricorn placements have a talent for knowing how to make things last. they want to prolong the enjoyment they get out of something for as long as possible, which is why their hobbies, friendships and relationships tend to last a lifetime... hedonistic sluts

since both the 7th house and the 11th house rule fandoms, celebrities with a 7th house or 11th house neptune can attract fans who view them as angels who can’t do nothing wrong — because of this, those celebrities rarely take accountability for their mistakes, since people keep pushing the “but they’re perfect :(“ light on them

pluto conjunct ascendant natives always come off as very serious during first impressions, no matter how approachable and inviting they strive to appear.

sun and moon in the 10th house people may feel as if they’re always exposed to the public eye, they can’t get away with keeping things secretive. others always notice whatever they want kept on the low. this can be especially frustrating if they notice that others aren’t exposed to the same kind of scrutiny that they are for simply existing

lilith in pisces bitches have a natural talent for appearing like angels even in situations where they are 100% guilty. it’s very easy for them to put on their vulnerable, lost puppy act lmfao, which triggers others’ protective instincts. they may be able to cry on cue when people call them out on their bullshit, making them feel like THEY’re the shitty ones for confronting the lilith native... it’s insane

lilith in the 12th house natives may feel as though the themes of lilith are trapped in their psyche, at the core of who they are and those themes become unavoidable for them — they’re always there, lurking in the shadows, becoming the center of their nightmares

people with mercury in the 1st house can feel veryyy threatened and defensive when someone possesses knowledge in an area that they don’t, it’s like it hits them right on their biggest fears. they often either try to “one-up” the other person in an attempt to heal their broken ego or shut down altogether in insecurity. it’s imperative that they work on developing a strong sense of self-worth because they can be extremely prone to comparing their mental skills to those of other people.

people with personal planets in the 12th house may feel as though a lot of their artistic drive is stifled by their lack of energy. like... in the mental realm there’s a lot going on and it’s incredible, but then you pick up a pen to actualize your visions and you feel exhaustion immediately overtaking you. it can feel like there’s a lot to your psyche that feels inaccessible to you not because you don’t want to explore it, but because you have yet to restore the energy to dive deep into it. this can be especially noticeable if there’s absolutely no 5th house energy in the chart

people with jupiter in an earth sign love being surrounded by greeneries in their home; they may take a lot of enjoyment out of taking care of plants, gardening, cooking and stuff of the sort. it makes them feel more grounded, independent, and even healed. they also LOVE scents that connect them to nature like the scent of grass and the ocean.

air mercuries can be very beware of strangers, they can feel offended when their friends make them socialize with someone they don’t know and it can take a hot while before they trust the person enough to lower their defences a bit. they need to know it’s safe before expressing their usual sexy eccentric selves in front of someone new. on the other hand, aries placements can also hate being introduced to new people through their friends but it’s mostly because they’re very territorial over them, and can’t stand the thought that this new person can hurt their friendship in any possible way

meanwhile, it’s probably an earth or leo/sagittarius mercury introducing new friends to the group. they’re so fucking good with people and it shows in how they make people feel welcomed so easily, it’s like they “take” the person in and adopt them into the group. they can’t stand seeing someone being treated like an outcast because they know how it sucks to feel rejected, so they’ll try their best to make you feel included

while on the subject of people who hate seeing others be treated like an outcast because they know how it feels like to be rejected: SCORPIO RISINGS. bro. people underestimate how chill they can actually be. if they see you being left out, they’ll approach you with no fucks given and do anything in their power to make you feel comfortable. they do so well in group settings.

and while on the subject of scorpio risings... i have a scorpio rising friend and he goes thru it on the daily. he often complains that people are always suspicious of him and that they seem repulsed by him, strangers on the street will stay tf away from him. and it’s so heartbreaking because his personality is so friendly and welcoming and it doesn’t at all match his intimidating appearance. scorpio risings have this energy that not many people can handle, others feel either really drawn to them or downright scared of them because of the “danger” element they seem to carry in them

i know two people who are both scorpio suns and libra moons and they look the exact same, even though they have different risings. brown, deep-set eyes, coarse dark hair, naturally tanner skin tone — and they have the same style as well, using lots of band t-shirts and dark clothing. scorpio energy is always so noticeable wherever it is i swear, it’s like it takes over the rest of the chart

gemini moons are what yall claim gemini venuses to be. like, seriously... have you ever met someone with a gemini venus? they don’t need constant stimulation or else they’ll get bored and cheat. not in the slightest; actually, they’re often incredibly loyal and crave longterm, committed relationships. if anything, they need stimulation outside of their relationship in the form of a good, exciting career and hobbies so that they don’t get too addicted to their partner and to constantly analysing every aspect of their relationship. gemini moons however, tend to have multiple partners throughout life and they often feat deep commitment. they can be huge players imo, IT’S THEM YOU SHOULD BE WORRIED ABOUT!

sagittarius placements are so... tactile? like, they love to touch things. when they go to stores and stuff, they’ll start holding everything that catches their attention— it’s like they can only decide if they want to buy something after thouroughly exploring how it feels, the texture and the energy that the object gives them through touch. and they talk so much with their hands. it makes me so anxious like bitch you aren’t selena gomez, i promise you that you CAN keep your hands to yourself

taurus placements are so weird to me, i can’t understand them. it’s like they’re afraid of exploring their own depths, which in turn makes me unable to explore them. okay, how do i put this... it’s like they have this preset idea of who they are and after deciding so, they’re unwilling to let go of it. “i’m the stable friend who’s here for everyone even when i can barely take care of my own self” and then that’s who they are: the people who are a steady rock in the lives of others, taking care of everyone. and then they refuse to change even after getting hurt. and then, it’s like... well, you can’t just be that. you are a human who contains multitudes, but i don’t think you give yourself enough credit on how layered you are. that fear of changeability, that need to be the one stable thing in a world full of unpredictability will only damage you in the end, because you won’t get to fully experience life’s greatest pleasure: knowing yourself. becoming your own best friend, exploring every layer that there is to your being. i think you deny yourself of that experience because you fear that, with self-learning comes self-growth which leads to transformation. and you fear transformation because you don’t want to change for the worst. but like... transformation is necessary and with that comes adaptability + flexibility, which are things you could greatly benefit from.

scorpio venuses can be so pessimistic— and when they’re in a dark mindset, it’s so difficult to pull them out of it. it’s so difficult to get them to see the good in difficult situations, and to help them believe that it gets better. but even if you don’t believe me, i’ll keep telling you; it does get better. you’ll get through this.

jupiter in the 4th house is an indicator of food having been an amazing part of your childhood; there might’ve been a lot of feasts and you could’ve had a parent who loved to cook. being well fed might be a huge concern for you now; you might get sick easily when you’re eating fast food and non-traditional plates.

mercury square uranus is an extremely difficult aspect to have because, in your earlier years, you might’ve felt dumb or like there was something wrong with your intelligence because you might’ve found school difficult due to it’s structured nature that didn’t fit with the way you like to learn things— you need to learn in an interactive way that piques your interest. your anxiety and any traumatic experienced that you faced could’ve heavily impacted your school performance. you might’ve had an ease with learning but then, when it came to doing the written tests, you couldn’t perform to the best of your abilities. either way, school might’ve been a source of a lot of stress and difficulty.

mercury square pluto can have some weird manifestation where, like... you suspect things but you always suspect the wrong things. i’ve met a few people with this aspect and all of them were extremely suspicious of the most random things who were literally normal and innocent. this aspect can cause a lot of chaos to one’s interpersonal relationships because you might find yourself suspecting your loved ones in the weirdest circumstances due to your trust issues, which in return causes them to lose trust in you + the want to confide in you because you keep questioning everything they’re up to WHEN THEY’RE NOT UP TO ANYTHING IN THE FIRST PLACE. probably the most frustrating thing that can happen with this aspect is when you always suspect what you shouldn’t, but then, when sketchy things are actually happening that should be questioned, you don’t bat an eye to it. omfg it drives me insane

moon conjunct the ascendant can make someone have a very delicate appearance that gives others the impression that they need to handle you like fine china or else you might break. my mother has this at a very tight orb and whenever i bring people over, their first impression of her is always “she looks so frail”. the native might be extremely sensitive to every minor inconvenience which brings a lot of frustration to them, a feeling that they can’t control their reactions and inner turmoil. it can also suck when you don’t want to be depicted as the victim but then that’s the way everyone perceives you. the native might have very expressive and shiny eyes, and they can cry easily. it’s very difficult for them to hide their emotions.

your jupiter sign can signify where you feel an overflow of energy. jupiter in cancer may feel like you have an overflow of nurturing and protective energy towards your loved ones, with a lot of intuition and need for introspection. jupiter in leo can make you feel like you a talent for self-expression and dealing with others, being overly dramatic and prideful at times, and with a huge drive to have fun. jupiter in virgo can feel an overflow of perceptive qualities, with a huge amount of self-awareness and also awareness of your surroundings, ability to constantly analyse and a constant strive for perfection (which btw is impossible since perfection is unattainable and you’re a human being who makes mistakes and that’s completely fine. stop finding flaws where there aren’t none).

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Angelic.

Pairing: Yandere!Diavolo/Reader.

Word Count: 3.8k. 

Synopsis: You like being an angel. You’re proud of it, of your wings, of your faith, of all you’ve done to earn your place in the Celestial Realm. Diavolo doesn't mind your current state, of course not, he loves every part of you. He just thinks some modifications may need to be made, before he can love you properly.

TW: Violence, Kidnapping, Prolonged Imprisonment, Non-Consensual Touching, Blood, Possessive Mindsets, Slight Dehumanization, and Mentions of Non-Con.

Michael used to say only the bravest angels earned their wings.

It was part of the reason they were so rare, after the Celestial War, after Lucifer and his brothers took their wings and distorted them into leathery, spiked, perverted evidence of their new, tainted loyalties. You didn’t have to be the toughest angel, but you had to be devoted, you had to be dedicated beyond a shadow of a doubt, and you had to be brave enough to put that dedication on display. You were just a messenger, a servant to much more deserving candidates, but you still had a pair sprouting from your shoulder blades, just heavy enough to give you a reason to straighten your back, whenever you started to lose faith in your divinity. You’d earned them, and you were proud. You’d managed to keep them, and you had no plans to give them up.

Only the bravest angels had wings. That meant you were a brave angel.

It meant you could be brave enough to survive Diavolo, as long as you had your wings.

They were warm, too, forming a soft, white shell around your upper body, helping you to block out that unignorable chill that came hand in hand with the Devildom. It’d been a temporary discomfort in the past, something you could brush aside whenever you were asked to carry a letter to the Demon Lord’s castle or invited as a make-shift ambassador in the absence of a proper representative, but after days trapped in the domain, your shining sun replaced with layers of stone and rock, there was little you could do to escape it, and Diavolo seemed hesitant to offer his aid. His kindness had stopped at a silk gown, black and thin and just teetering on the edge of purposefully sheer, the fabric fine enough to slip through his fingers as he toyed with the hem, perched on the edge of your bed, edging closer despite your obvious attempts to melt into the headboard.

He said you’d have your own space, your own room, that he wanted you to feel comfortable enough to welcome him in willingly, when you were ready. He said he would give you time.

Obviously, he’d been lying, and you weren’t quite why you’d ever bothered to believe him.

The silence was tense. There’d been a greeting when he came in, a gesture of good will you hadn’t returned, but if Diavolo was bothered, it didn’t stop him from smiling, a simper tugging at the corner of his lips as he glanced towards you, attempting to catch your eye while you glared at the sheets. That didn’t stop him from speaking, though, attempting to clear the air and only making the atmosphere more poluted, as a result. “I take it you don’t care for my hospitality.”

His tone was light, jovial. Less of an attempt to coax you into a comfortable lull and more of a genuine fondness, regardless of whether or not the object of his affection returned the sentiment. “I don’t want to…” You wanted to go home. You wanted him to undo whatever spell he’d cast on the door and the windows and all the other exits that wouldn’t open, no matter of how many times you slammed yourself against them. You wanted him to let you go, but he wouldn’t. He’d already done enough to prove that, just by coming to you so happily. “I just don’t like it here.”

He dropped your gown, humming as he let his touch drift to your thigh, instead. You only pulled your legs closer, your wings tightening around you, attempting to provide another layer of reassurance. It was a futile pursuit, but still, you could appreciate the effort. “You’re cold?” There wasn’t a point in trying to avoid conversation, so you didn’t try, just nodding as he scanned over you. His skin was warm against yours, but unpleasantly so. Like taking a step too close to an open hearth and letting the heat become searing, rather than soothing. “It gets easier, with time. Angels usually have a difficult time adapting, but you’ll get used to it. And if you don’t…” He paused, his grin growing just a bit wider. “There are plenty of ways to speed up the process.”

Right. You’d almost forgotten. It wasn’t enough for him to just have you. It wasn’t enough for him to just keep you trapped here, against your will and so far from your natural element.

He needed to make you a monster, too. Something just as demonic and just as disgusting as he was.

You were thankful your face was hidden. He wouldn’t have taken it kindly, if he caught the way you grimaced at his suggestion. “I mean, I don’t like it here, Diavolo. It’s not just the cold. I don’t like being underground. I don’t like not being able to leave.” He wasn’t an oblivious man. He knew what he’d done, he knew how you felt about it, but for whatever reason, he refused to acknowledge your rejection. You couldn’t expect him to be kind, but you could expect him to be reasonable. “I don’t want to be a demon, or a fallen angel, or whatever you plan to turn me into. I’m just… I’m not supposed to be.”

“That’s one of the wonderful parts of having power, isn’t it?” It was a chuckle, a breath of a laugh. “I can help you change. With my assistance, you could be something greater than what you are, now. You could be a ranking demon, a name known and feared in—”

“Your servant.” You didn’t bother letting him finish. He was touching you, and you wished he wasn’t. The sooner this ended, the sooner he might stop. “I'll be your servant. Just as I’m Michael’s servant, now.”

Diavolo didn’t bother trying to deny it. “You'll my lover, as well. Isn’t that worth losing a few feathers?”

“I’m sorry, I just…” You didn’t want to be his lover, or his servant, or any role he had to offer. You wanted to be a messenger. You wanted to live a life you could be proud of, you wanted to feel the sunlight on your wings, and you didn’t want to give that up for the first crazed prince to take an interest in you. You didn’t want to give up your wings. Not to him, and certainly not for a prize so undesirable.

Your head lulled to the side, and for the first time since your arrival, you let yourself smile as you spoke.

“I like being an angel.”

~

Michael used to say only the most faithful angels earned their wings.

Only the most faithful, only the most trusting, only the least likely to be led astray by awful rumors and mortal temptations, by all the urges that’d drove so many of your brothers and sisters to abandoning the Celestial Realm entirely, trading it in for more forgiving terrains. You trusted Michael. You trusted every cherub, every seraph, every throne, every angel. Before, you’d trusted them to guide you, to correct you when you were in the wrong, and now, you trusted them to save you, to come for you, to do something to bring you home and as far from Diavolo as you could possibly be. You trusted them. You trusted them with your life, let alone your freedom.

And, you trusted that Michael had a good reason to wait so long to rescue you, too.

You were starting to lose track of how much time had passed, since you’d been abducted. It felt like two weeks, maybe three, but with Diavolo’s sporadic schedule and no sun to dim or brighten, you really didn’t have a way to be sure. His paperwork didn’t help, sprawled across his desk, all messily written notes and correspondences too personal to need dates or signatures. You looked regardless, doing what you could to search through the mess from your awkward position on his knee, your wings folded stiffly against your back. It had to be here. You knew it’d be here, you just had to—

On the corner of his desk, a letter with its envelope still sitting on top of it. A letter you didn’t remember delivering.

A letter with Michael’s insignia pressed into its torn surface. The insignia you’d dedicated your life to. The insignia you’d continue to dedicate your life to, as soon as you got away from Diavolo.

It would’ve been better to stay quiet. It would’ve been better not to say anything at all. It would’ve been smarter, but your mouth was already opening, your lips already moving, and before you could stop yourself, the question you’d been dying to ask was already spilling out. “Does he know?”

Diavolo hesitated, the constant scrawling of his quill going silent. Even then, he took a moment to answer, his tone suddenly much more patronizing than it had any right to be, for such a simple question. “Darling,” He started, his hand falling to your hip, rubbing circles idly into your side. “Michael’s a smart man. I’m sure he’s realized where you are, by now.”

“I know.” Michael had to know. You couldn’t take a step out of line without earning a lecture for your ‘disobedience’, most days. “But, you’re lying to him, aren’t you?” It was more of a hopeful thought than an accusation. Something you just wished he’d be kind enough to tell you, rather than honest enough to disregard. “He doesn’t think I’m… He doesn’t think I’m here like this, right?”

There was a pause, and his hand stopped moving. 

This time, he didn’t try not to laugh.

It was an awful feeling, his chest pressing against your back, just the hint of his weight forcing you to slouch as his lips ghosted over the dip of your shoulder, warm breath fanning over your skin at every chuckle, every wistful sigh, every painful word you couldn’t beg him not to say, not without losing your dignity, too. “What do I have to lie about?” You shuddered as he kissed you, the gesture fleeting, but no less repulsive. If Diavolo noticed, he didn’t seem to mind. “I’m taking care of you. You’re housed and fed and looked after, and you could be entertained, if I trusted you to wander out of my sight. He’s aware of my feelings for you, and if he asked, I’d be happy to tell him all about my stubborn little dove and spoiled you’ve become, with me.”

‘If he asked’. You were used to the way he talked about you – like a pet, like something to be adored and cooed over and cared for, but you’d be lying if you said something didn’t crack inside of your chest at that, at the implication that Michael hadn’t asked, not yet. It could’ve been a tactic, a strategy to guide Diavolo into a false sense of security. It could’ve been part of one of the many ‘greater plans’ your superior had always been so endeared by.

That, or he just didn’t care. It wasn’t like you were the only messenger in the Celestial Realm.

Diavolo must’ve caught your worried frown, the half-hearted, distracted glare you couldn’t seem to completely suppress. His next kiss lasted longer than his first, lingering against the nape of your neck. Temptation, poorly guised under the pretense of comfort. “Angels are fickle creatures, Michael especially. You’re dear to me, you know that, but I can’t say everyone is quite as emotional.”  He gave you time to respond, but you didn’t take the opportunity. You didn’t have anything to say, not when he got like this. “It might be a little less painful if you—”

“I like being an angel,” You snapped. It didn’t have anything to do with Michael, or his approval, or whether or not he cared that you were stuck in the same frozen, sunless hell he’d sent you to, trapped by the same devil he’d insisted that you see day in and day out despite your complaints, despite the lasting touches and the prolonged visits and that awful, possessive glint in Diavolo’s eye, when he looked at you. You didn’t care about Michael, not when it came to this. Not when you already knew what you were. “I’m an angel. I’ll always be an angel. I’ve never wanted to be anything else.”

It was the truth, but Diavolo only sighed, your wings straining not to lash out as he pulled you closer. Straining not to protect you, however necessary their service was beginning to seem.

“We’ll see.”

~

Michael used to say only the strongest angels earned their wings.

Strong in will, strong in mind, strong, whether or not you had any place on a battlefield. Out of all Michael’s compliments, it was the rarest, saved for soldiers and generals and magicians of the highest order, communicated in sparse bits of praise you felt lucky just to overhear. Maybe if you’d ever gotten your second pair, he would’ve said it to you, too. Maybe if you’d ever sought to be more than a messenger, he would’ve thought you were worthy of it. Maybe, if you escaped on your own, he’d smile and place a hand on your shoulder and celebrate your strength, your wings, your perseverance, you.

Maybe, if you escaped soon enough, you’d still want him to.

In your defense, it’d taken you a month just to get this close to the outside world, just to be able to see the Devildom beyond the walls of Diavolo’s castle, albeit still restrained to a balcony. It was brighter than you expected, the landscape below glowing with floating lanterns and glinting streetlights, ancient estates and modern stores standing side by side, a testament to the contained chaos of Diavolo’s domain. It was beautiful, even if you must’ve seen it a hundred times before. It was breathtaking, if only because it wasn’t the same stone and mortar, the same bedrooms and offices and grand ballrooms too empty not to come off as uncanny. You haven’t even asked for it, not unprompted.

It was a gift. It was a reward for your good behavior, not unlike your wings.

You pushed the thought out of your mind as soon as Diavolo’s armed wrapped around your waist. You’d wanted your wings. You’d worked for them. You’d never wanted this.

Still, you didn’t push him away. You wanted more time to take it in, another minute of feeling that humidity against your skin, another second of breathing fresh air. As long as you got that, you could ignore his unnatural body-heat, the feeling of his lips against the side of your neck, trailing towards your jaw while you bit back your usual complaints. That was his reward, for being such a considerate captor. He got to touch you, actually touch you, and for once, you had a good reason not to fight back.

Your wings had never liked to listen to logic, though. Despite your grit teeth, your white-knuckle grip on the low guard-rail, your right wing still plastered itself to your side, wrapping around you protectively while its twin hovered behind Diavolo, at your side, caught between the urge to push itself between you and a perceived threat and your commands to relax, fall back, do something that didn’t make your shoulders ache and your spine cramp every time you shifted. Fortunately, Diavolo seemed unfazed, only bothering to brush your wing away when it bumped against his back, reacting to every nip to your jaw, every brush of pointed fangs against your jugular.

He barely pulled away to speak, his voice coming out muffled. “I’m starting to think you don’t trust me.”

“I can’t really control them,” You mumbled, your grip growing impossibly tighter around the guard rail. Diavolo was pulling you closer, now, his hold not quite crushing, but still as suffocating as it’d ever been. “I… I think I’m just nervous. They start to get fidgety when I’m on-edge, y’know?”

There was a laugh, a peck the corner of your lips. You couldn’t stop yourself from flinching back. It wasn’t the most intimate thing he’d tried, it wasn’t even the most invasive, but the fact that he felt comfortable trying at all wasn’t a good sign. “Are you still scared of me, my love?” It was a question, but he didn’t give you time to answer, only tugging you towards him, his knee slipping between your legs as you were forced to face him, abandoning your railing and your only source of stability, in the process. “I think I’ve been kind, and you must see that I’m being patient. I’ve trying to be gentle with you, despite how cold you’ve been, since I took you in.”

A hand dropped to your thigh, and your vision tinged black around the edges. He must’ve been able to feel your pulse racing, but he didn’t seem disturbed by your sudden anxiety. “Only because I haven’t given you permission to be anything but gentle, yet.”

Something sparked in his eyes, a dark sort of fire. “I don’t need your permission for everything, you know.”

For once, you and your wings were in agreement.

It helped that he wasn’t expecting it. You’d always been passive when it came to action, too timid to fight back in any meaningful way, so when you lashed out, when you wedged a strong wing between his body and yours and shoved, he was caught off-guard, letting you go out of instinct alone. You didn’t bother trying to subdue him. He was a head taller than you and twice as strong, but you were faster, you were frenzied, and whatever he might’ve expected, it couldn’t have been what you did next. In the space between one second and another, you were on top of the railing, struggling to keep your balance as your wings stretched to their full length for the first time in weeks. You felt a hollow throb, a pang of discomfort, but you weren’t deterred. You needed to get out of here. You needed to fly. You couldn’t leave his kingdom, but as long as you left him, you’d be alright. You wanted to fly. You had to fly.

But, as soon as you’d jumped, a fist wrapped around your ankle, and you were thrown back onto the balcony before your wings could do so much as flap.

It hurt. More than anything, it hurt, from the new crack in your ribcage to the spot where something shattered in the arch of your left wing. You curled into yourself instinctively, a faltering whimper turning into a broken scream as Diavolo’s foot caught the bend of your fractured wing, still fluttering pathetically in an attempt to aid you. “I’m trying to be nice,” He snarled, but he didn’t sound angry. He sounded disappointed, exasperated, tired of you and your refusal and how little he seemed to respect either. There was an airy, exhausted chuckle on his part, then a ragged sob on yours. “Would it really be so awful to be with me? Have I really done something monstrous enough to deserve this?”

Yes. It was, he had, yes. That’s what you wanted to say, what you meant to, but your tongue refused to form the words. “I d-don’t—” You slurred, instead, only to be cut short by your own hitched cry. “I… I like being an angel, I don’t wanna— I can’t—”

“I know.”

His heel pressed into your wing, blood seeped from matted feathers, and something hot and agonizing shot from your injury to your brain. Like lightening. Like liquid mercury. Like fire.

You didn’t even have a chance to close your eyes before the world went dark around you.

~

You used to say you’d rather lose your head than your wings.

It was one of those stupid, short-sighted things people liked to say when they were feeling bold, when they were safe, when they’d just gotten something new and shiny and hadn’t grown tired of showing it off. Sometimes it was an arm, some days your legs, and when you were feeling particularly brave, you’d say your heart, despite how useless your wings would probably be without something so vital. It might’ve been different if you were ever actually up against a threat that wanted to take one or the other, but it still would’ve been your choice. That was what you were stuck on, really. You thought you’d get to choose.

But, you hadn’t.

Diavolo must’ve grown tired of letting you make the wrong decision, all while he tried to be so helpful.

You felt hollow when you woke up, lying on a bed you’d never seen before. Lighter than you should’ve been, sliced open and carved out, missing something necessary and warm and filling. Your throat felt dry, your eyes stung, and when you tried to roll onto your side, when you tried to move at all, it felt like every tissue, every tendon, every cell in your body was trying to tear itself apart. The pain was all-consuming, and it only seemed to get worse as you shrunk into yourself, your arms wrapping around your sides and your wings following—

Oh.

It was kind of funny, how long it’d taken you to notice.

You didn’t have to look. You kept your eyes shut, a cracked sob slipping past your lips as you tried desperately to move your wings, to lift them, to flap them, to do something beyond digging your nails into the sheets and cursing, panting, waiting for anything. The pain dimmed, numbing into something distant, something unimportant as you tried to push yourself up, but a strong hand clamped around your shoulder before you could make any progress, not forcing you to lay down, but urging you to, not giving you another choice. 

That seemed to be a trend, lately.

You tried to thrash. You tried to struggle, but Diavolo just clicked his tongue, the mild sound of disapproval serving as your only warning before he sat up, an arm soon thread underneath the small of your back and the bend of your knees, lifting you into his lap without the option to pull away. “Please, try not to move.” As always, he was gentle, hushing your weak protests before you could think to vocalize them. “Your wounds are still healing. It’d only be more painful if you tore your stitches, and the mess—”

“What—What did you do—” You were stuttering, stumbling over your words, but it didn’t matter. You were desperate, and you needed to do something. “I can’t… Why can’t I feel my wings?”

There was a slight pause, the smallest hesitation. You swear, you could feel his smile burning into you, as he started to speak. “You said you wanted to be angel, my love.” It was a crime, how soft his voice was, how tenderly he held you. A captor masquerading as a caretaker. A demon as a doting lover. “But, I couldn’t have you trying to fly away. Consider this a compromise, an alternative to keeping my little songbird locked in a cage.”

You might’ve preferred a cage. A cell, a prison, a chain around your ankle, anything over the strange dissonance that came with having half of yourself ripped away and discarded. But, Diavolo hadn’t given you the choice. Michael hadn’t saved you, and now, after you’d been damaged so severely, you doubted he ever would.

You liked being an angel. You really, really liked being an angel. You’d never wanted to be anything else.

You just weren’t sure if you could be an angel, without your wings.

[mypoisonedvine]

It’s Always The Quiet Ones... | college AU dark!Peter Parker x (slightly)naive!reader

for @nsfwsebbie​​‘s dream fic challenge, I was assigned to write something for @harryspet​​ which was vv exciting bc I love her stuff ;-; no pressure right? lol (also thank you to @evnscvll​​ for being my proofreader, sounding board, and partner for some very strange texting for the purpose of screenshots!)

Here is the prompt I got: peter is a dork and is weird and quiet, and the readers friends dared her to sleep with him. turns out he was really kinky and is really good at sex. can be dark.  And hoo boy, did I run with that.  I hope you like it!!

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: smut (it’s consensual but with dubcon undertones, manipulation, and implied coercion/dubcon at the end), stalking, blackmail, voyeurism, and general creepiness.  Oh yeah and there’s some degradation and dacryphilia in there for good measure.

You and your friends were in the middle of your daily cafeteria lunch, chatting about the same sorts of small talk you always did.  

“Oh god, it’s that weird guy from class!” Jackie blurted out suddenly around a mouthful of fries, pulling you out of the conversation you’d been having.  Everyone at the table whipped around and your eyes went wide. 

“Come on, don’t look all at once,” you hissed.  

“Who is this guy?” Cody asked, looking around with confusion.

“The guy in the blue hoodie over there,” Jackie answered, motioning toward him with her head.  It was Peter, setting down his tray of food and opening up his laptop, putting earbuds in.  He was pretty much always on his laptop, it seemed like.  He took a bite of his pizza before getting back to whatever he was working on.

“He looks normal, or normal-ish,” Mia shrugged.  

“No, no, you don’t get it,” you shook your head.  “We have him in Computational Physics on Tuesdays and Thursdays--”

“Plus Friday lab,” Jackie interjected.

“--and he’s… kinda…”

“Creepy,” Jackie concluded.

“No,” you denied, “not creepy.  He’s just… a bit awkward, I guess.”

“And he stares at you, like, the entire time we’re in class.  But won’t even talk to you.”

“Oh, that’s weird,” Mia agreed with a shudder.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “it’s kinda… sweet, maybe?  I mean, he’s just shy, right?”

“Oh my god you are such a slag!” Jackie teased, shoving you on the shoulder.  “You’re into him, aren’t you?”

“No!” you denied with wide eyes.  

“You’re just into the attention,” Cody rolled his eyes.

“I mean, it’s kind of flattering, isn’t it?” you admitted.  Jackie laughed.

“You should go over there and talk to him,” she decided.

“Nooooooooo, no way,” you shake your head.

“I kinda wanna see this,” Cody smirks.

“Literally just go over there and flirt with him, his head would explode,” Jackie suggested excitedly.

“I don’t even know how to flirt,” you chuckled.

“So you’re considering it!” Mia accused.

“I didn’t say that!” you squeaked.

“Pleeeeeease,” Jackie whined playfully.  “It’ll be funny.”

“I don’t usually sleep with people for comedic effect.”

“I’ll chip in $20 if you do it,” she offered immediately.  She turned to the rest of the table, “come on guys, we need to pool together and make her do it.”

“I’ve only got a ten,” Cody mumbled, pulling it out slowly before Jackie snatched it away.

“Okay, $30, who can make it $50?”

“Jackie, calm down,” you hissed.

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t sleep with him for $50?  He’s cute!”

“I have $35 and 67 cents,” Mia counted, shuffling through her wallet.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, your head falling into your hands.

“Just do it, for me,” Jackie said, suddenly sounding oddly serious.  You didn’t understand why it mattered so much, but you decided it couldn’t be that bad if you just did it.

“Fine, fine, just shut up and don’t stare at us,” you instructed, getting up to a ruckus of cheers.  You didn’t even take the money.

You walked across the cafeteria, messenger bag slung over your shoulder, and hoped you wouldn’t totally make an idiot of yourself.  If you hadn’t already just by talking to a guy over a dare.

He didn’t seem to notice you when you stood by his table, still focusing on his computer.

“Um, hey,” you waved, and Peter looked up at you as he took out his earbuds.

“Hi,” he replied quickly.

“What… what are you working on?” you asked, motioning to the laptop.  He didn’t stop looking at you, and he didn’t say anything.  “I… we have comp together?  You know who I am, right?”

“O-of course I do!” he suddenly perked up.  “Yeah, I just…” he trailed off and turned to his laptop.  “I was just working on this model.”

“Can I take a look?” 

He smiled a little, and moved his backpack out of the seat next to him.  “Go ahead!”

You sat down and leaned in to look at his screen.  

“It’s-- it’s not finished but, basically I just put the kinetic energy of an object on the x-axis, the potential energy on the y-axis--” 

You used the laptop’s touch screen to move the model around, impressed with his work.  “And the z-axis is the conservation of energy for work done on an object,” you finished.  

“Uh, yeah, exactly,” he nodded.

“It’s beautiful!” you realized, appreciating the variety of colors as each data point was suspended in the graph.  

“Do you do any modeling?” he asked you, and for a hot second it felt like a line.

“Um,” you laughed, “no, not much at least.  Nothing extracurricular.”

“Oh.”

“I’m more into abstract math, if I’m being honest.”

He smiled.  “Oh, you’re one of those.”

You laughed, shoving him on the shoulder playfully, but regretting it as you saw his smile drop a bit.  “People are so judgmental about abstract math, as if it isn’t the study of the founding principles of mathematics.”

“So you think adding a pineapple and a banana is the foundation of mathematics?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“Okay, there’s so much more to abstract mathematics than weird variables,” you frowned.  “Like basic functions on matrices!  Don’t act like it isn’t dope as fuck to add, subtract, multiply and divide matrices.  If you saw my whiteboard in my dorm you would understand.”

“If I had a whiteboard now I could prove to you that abstract math is overrated,” he countered.

“I’d love to see you try,” you scoffed.  You hadn’t really meant it literally.  

“I don’t have anything for the rest of the day,” he shrugged.  It took you a moment to realize he was suggesting to actually come to your room and talk about math.  You weren’t sure if that was even what would happen if you went back to your dorm…

You opened your mouth to say that you were busy, that you couldn’t, that you shouldn’t, so you were a little surprised when you heard yourself say “sure” instead.

And that was how you ended up sitting on your kitchen counter with Peter Parker between your legs, kissing you like you’d never been kissed before.

It sort of happened all at once.  He just grabbed you and you were confused but went with it, because life is short and he was cute and his hands felt unexpectedly wonderful as they gripped your back.

You gasped a bit when he started to pull your shirt over your head but he didn’t slow down, quickly removing his own-- oh, hello there six-pack, nice to meet you-- kissing you again as he wrapped his hands around your waist and slid you off the counter, guiding your legs to wrap around his hips.  He carried you to the bedroom with unexpected grace; he was so much stronger than he looked.  And he looked different than he ever had before as he tossed you down onto your bed and started to kiss his way down your abdomen while his fingers slipped under the waistband of your shorts.

“Oh god, Peter!” you yelped as he kissed along your thighs, pulling down your shorts and underwear and tossing them to the side.

“Say my name again,” he demanded before instantly latching onto your clit, sucking and licking directly onto the bundle of nerves.

And you really had no choice in the matter, his name pouring from your lips over and over, accentuated with a yelp as he shoved two fingers into you, finding and massaging your g-spot before you could even process everything you were feeling.

“Oh my god, fuck, Peter!” you hissed, your head falling back onto the mattress so hard it bounced a little.

You were barreling towards an orgasm faster than you probably ever had before.  This was nothing like the few other hook-ups you’d had since starting college-- it wasn’t even like the times you’d been alone with your hand or a vibrator.  This was like an assault on the senses, so powerful that you couldn’t even really keep track of the sounds you were making or anything that wasn’t his mouth on you and his fingers in you.

“I’m gonna come, oh my god, I’m gonna come don’t stop please--” you moaned as your words turned into mostly incoherent nonsense.  How could you be expected to form a sentence in these conditions?

Thankfully, he didn’t stop.  He kept lapping at your clit as if he hadn’t even noticed your pleading, his fingers twisting inside you even as your walls clenched so tightly around them that it became difficult to keep up the pace.  Your hips involuntarily bucked against his face, your legs quivered as he refused to give you any reprieve from the sensation, but he kept going.

“Oh fuck, fuckfuckfuck Peter I can’t-- it’s too much-- oh god,” you babbled, but it fell on deaf ears.  A small part of your brain was confused why he wouldn’t stop-- you hadn’t told him outright to stop but it was kind of implied, right?  Wasn’t it some amount of not okay that he was still going?  It made your gut sink in a way that was equal parts disturbing and erotic.  

You were trying to pull away but his arms wrapped around your thighs and held you down.  God, he was strong.  He looked kind of skinny in those hoodies he was usually wearing, but now that he was actually exerting some force he was clearly muscular.  You felt helpless and it, oddly enough, turned you on.

“Peter, please, oh my god, slow down I-- I can’t take any more,” you whimpered; your voice came out all high-pitched and squeaky and it would’ve been embarrassing if you had enough brainpower left to care.  

He groaned against your skin but said nothing, using his teeth to lightly graze your clit.  Your whole body jerked at that, a sob tearing from your lips suddenly.  It felt like you were past the point of orgasm now and just lost in some sort of aggressively intense world of pleasure-- it neared pain, really.  You had never been pushed to your limits like this; you hadn’t even realized that there were limits which one could be pushed to this way!  It was exhilarating and exhausting and overwhelming.  You fought tears from forming because it would be so embarrassing to cry right now, and he would probably freak out and think you were hurt or something… maybe you were hurt, you couldn’t even tell at this point.  But at this point, it was unstoppable.  You were fucking crying from the overstimulation and he hadn’t even put his cock in you yet.  Your face was so hot that your own tears felt cool as they poured down your cheeks.

Finally, he stopped when he heard your sobs.  But instead of concern or fear or confusion, his expression was simply joy.

“Oh, you look so cute when you cry,” he cooed, sliding back up your body to kiss your tears away as they fell.  Then he kissed your mouth, open and sloppy and aggressive, and the taste of yourself on his tongue made your head spin.

Before you could collect your thoughts, he pulled back and made quick work of his jeans and boxers-- fuck, he was big.  

“You’re too kind,” he grinned, discarding the clothes and stroking his cock a few times.

You hadn’t realized you had said it out loud, and you felt a little nervous but then he was on you again, kissing you roughly and forcing his tongue into your mouth.  You felt him reaching down, gripping his cock and rubbing it through your folds.  You were soaked, and swollen, and nearly sore.  Every time the tip slid over your clit, you jumped a little.

He pushed into you ever so slightly, moving the head of his cock inside you and nothing more.  You whined with confusion and anticipation, but he continued on teasing you.

“Please,” you whimpered into his kiss.

He pulled back and looked down at you, his eyes blown so wide that they looked like they’d gone black.  “What was that?” he asked, and you sighed because you knew he could hear you the first time.

“Please, Peter,” you repeated, louder, “I need more.”

“More…?”

You sobbed with frustration, and desire.  “Fuck me, please.”

He thrusted forward and you groaned as his cock stretched you open.  It was like night and day, how he went from slowly teasing you to slamming into your eager walls.  You cried out and gripped at his arms, just trying to steady yourself and maybe stop your skull from whacking the headboard if possible.

“You love it, don’t you?  You love my cock,” he growled.  His voice was lower, gravelly.  He sounded like an entirely different person.

“Yes,” you replied weakly.

“Say it,” he demanded.

No one had ever talked to you like this before and it made your cheeks burn.  “I-- I love your cock,” you stammered.  

He smiled and you hoped you’d done it right, and that he wasn’t smiling at your obvious nervousness or lack of experience.  You didn’t understand how this was normally supposed to go, because you didn’t normally hook up with people so casually-- you had just never really been interested in it.  But now that he was fucking you so hard you could barely breathe, you were starting to get the appeal.  God, your last boyfriend hadn’t even made you come in five months of dating, meanwhile five minutes with Peter had made you a sobbing mess.  Even now you were biting your lip to hold back your tears from the sheer intensity of the sensations you were experiencing.

“Oh, you poor thing,” he pouted condescendingly.  “You don’t wanna cry but you can’t help it, huh?  You’re my dumb little crybaby aren’t you?”

You tried not to react to that but you knew he felt your walls clench suddenly.

“You like that?  You like being my stupid whore?”

“S-stop,” you begged weakly, feeling beyond humiliated.

“But you like it, angel, I can tell.  Don’t lie to me.”

He reached down to swirl his thumb over your clit, laughing at the way you tensed up and tried to squirm away.

“Is it too much princess?” he asked, but the nickname read less sweet and more mocking.  “Isn’t this what you wanted?  You asked me to fuck you.  Begged me.  Now you act like you can’t take it, like you’re this delicate little flower and not the dirty fucking whore I know you are.”

“I-- I’m not a whore,” you denied even as you struggled to suppress your obvious arousal from the derogatory nature of his words.  You felt a little guilty for being into it, and slightly insulted, but fuck if it didn’t make your back arch and your throat dry and your pussy so excessively wet.

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” he scoffed.  “But, maybe you’re not playing.  You really are dumb, aren’t you?”

You logically knew that it was too late to deny anything he said, but you still clung onto your dignity as best you could.  “N-no!”

“Not all the time, just when you’re wet.  Isn’t that right?  You get so desperate for cock and you don’t wanna be smart, you just wanna be somebody’s brainless fuckdoll.”

That sounded so appealing in some forbidden, filthy way and all of a sudden you were going to come again, any second now.

“Yes!” you nearly screamed, falling into your pleasure.

“Come on my cock, baby,” he encouraged, “come for me.”

You didn’t even sound like yourself with the noises you made, or maybe it was just that you’d never had the chance to make noises like that before.  Either way, your orgasm crashed through you and nearly punched the air out of your lungs.  Your toes went numb.  You didn’t even know that could happen.  And most important of all, your walls tensed and fluttered so hard that he began moaning into your ear.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna come inside you.”  You couldn’t tell if it was a warning, like he was asking permission, or if he was just informing you of his intentions which you would be powerless to stop even if you told him not to.  You didn’t have to find out because you were on the pill, but it made you realize all too suddenly that you should’ve had him put on a condom-- how could you have forgotten?

His moans turned hoarse and with a growl and a tightened grip on your hips, he spilled deep in you, coating your walls as his length flexed and twitched inside you.  For a moment you were just stuck like that, his weight holding you down as he caught his breath, and finally he rolled to the side and you could breathe cool air again.

“That was…” he began but trailed off, pulling you closer and kissing your shoulder.  “You’re amazing.”

It was quite the shift from how he had been talking before.  It was comforting, but you were still a little confused.  “Really?”

He laughed softly.  “Did you not notice?  God, I’ve wanted you for so long…”

You were curious about where he was going with that, but then he suddenly sat up.

“Do you want some water?” he offered.

“Uh, yeah,” you smiled.  “The cups are in the cabinet just to the left of the microwave.”

He nodded and gave you a quick peck on the cheek before sliding out of the bed, slipping his boxers on over his still-hard cock which was now coated in your come and his, and dashing out of the room.

You were mostly content to just lay there, although you felt uncharacteristically sore between your legs, and quite… sticky.  You glanced over to your whiteboard and realized he never had any intentions of talking with you about abstract math.  Was this just a one-time thing, or was he going to come back and ask you out?  Were you boyfriend and girlfriend now?  Or were you just a clueless romantic who thought that sleeping together meant more than it really did?

You rolled over and saw Peter’s phone resting on the bedside table.  He must have set it there when he was stripping quickly while you two had been making out-- or that’s what you were pretty sure the order of events had been, it had all happened so fast…

At that exact moment, the screen lit up with a notification.  You were about to roll back and not look at all, until you got a glimpse of the words.

PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14

You furrowed your brow.  It looked like an alert for an upcoming class, except that this was your class, the one you had with him, and it wasn’t until tomorrow.  No assignments due today, either.  And what was with the row/seat thing?  Peter didn’t sit in the third row… you did.

You picked up the phone just enough to angle it to see the rest of the notification.  It wasn’t a calendar alert; it was a text message.  “PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14” was the contact name.  You could only get a preview of the message…

okay, it’s done isn’t it?  can you please delete those pic….

You were curious, or maybe just concerned.  Was the seat number supposed to be the person texting him?  How were you supposed to keep track of who sat where to know who it was?

It had to be somebody from your row, but it was just you, Jackie, and a bunch of random dudes that Peter had never seemed to have any interaction with.

You assumed you wouldn’t be able to unlock the phone to even try to snoop, which you didn’t want to do anyways, but when you slid your thumb over the screen, you gasped when it opened straight to the conversation.  Who didn’t put a password on their phone?

okay, it’s done isn’t it?  can you please delete those pictures now?  I did what you asked.  I won’t tell anyone.  just send me proof that the photos are gone, please.

You felt a little sick.  You had no idea what this meant but it scared you.  You saw the conversation from before but it didn’t make any sense.  You scrolled back up to try to figure out what they were talking about and gasped when you saw a picture Peter had sent to the contact.

It was Jackie.  But she wasn’t alone.  She was on her knees in the lab room, and you gagged when you realized what she was doing-- or really, who she was doing it to.  

She’d told you she had a casual thing with a new guy but refused to say who it was.  You realized why now.  She was fucking your professor, and you just knew she was doing it to get a better grade.  You had been trying to figure out how she was earning higher marks than you but never seemed to be able to discuss the class material.  It all made sense now, but it wasn’t a comforting feeling.

You scrolled down a bit to see the conversation after the photo, and your blood went cold as you read it.

You saw several more messages but you couldn’t bring yourself to read any of it.  You knew everything you needed to know.

You weren’t sure what inspired you to open his camera roll… of course you wouldn’t find anything comforting there.  But you had to see for yourself.

It was just a list of folders, so many you could keep scrolling for ages.  Each had a label and a thumbnail image.

The thumbnail of Jackie on her knees jumped out first.  PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14.  45 images.

A girl in a lacy bra posing for the camera.  PHYS 509, row 1, seat 8.  12 images.

Two girls making out in a crowded room, holding red solo cups.  ENGL 104, row 12, seat 5.  6 images.

A nude selfie in front of a mirror.  PHIL 108, row 2, seat 2.  14 images.

And then the one that made your heart stop.  It was a picture of you in a bikini, taken by a friend on spring break.  PHYS 507, row 3, seat 13.  1 image.

The second you jumped up, dropping the phone, he was there with your promised glass of water in hand.  

“What’s wrong?” he asked innocently.  Just a second of silence was enough for him to pick up his phone from the floor and realize what had happened with a grin.  “Oh, that,” he sighed, slipping it into his pocket after looking down at it with a sort of loving look, like he was proud of his work.  “I suppose it’s my fault for leaving my phone right there, without a password, knowing I would get a text from Jackie any minute.”

“You wanted me to see it,” you grimaced, “you wanted me to see what you did to my friend.  What you did to all those girls.”

“I didn’t do anything.  They do all the heavy lifting, I just hack them and get pictures of it.  Or, in your friend’s case, I hack them, find out they’re fucking the professor, and follow them to their next rendezvous.”

“You’re fucking sick,” you spat, and he just shrugged.  “You’d better delete those photos of Jackie.”

“I will, don’t worry,” he soothed.  “It’s a shame though, she was pretty prolific.  You, on the other hand, you’re a good girl.  You even had pretty good security, I respect that.  Here’s a tip: your ISP creates the intranet that your wireless webcam uses to connect to your laptop.  It’s password protected, but it defaults to your phone number, and most people never change it.  Including yourself.”

You shivered.  “You watched me with it, didn’t you?”

“Well, I had to since you didn’t have any good photos of yourself.  And you do a decent job of erasing your porn history… but not a perfect job.  You watch some interesting stuff.  And you look so hot with your hand stuffed in your panties, rubbing yourself to whatever nasty shit you’re watching...”

“Shut up,” you demanded, covering your ears, “stop, please.  This is so fucked up.”

He laughed a little.  “You look better in person though.  A webcam could never capture how perfect you look when you come.”

“Please just stop,” you sobbed.

“Stop what?  I’m just telling you the truth.”

“I should’ve listened to my friends.  You’re a freak.”

“Hmm, you seemed to like it before.”

“Just delete those pictures of Jackie… and let me go…” you seethed.

“I will,” he promised.  “But, I need something to make up for the loss of some great spank bank material.”

You felt sick.  But what else was new?

“I need to finally get some good pictures of you.  Come on, isn’t it sad that your folder is so empty?” he pouted, pulling the phone back out from his pocket. “I could ruin a lot of lives with these folders.  Just let me take a few photos and you can spare them all the humiliation.  Nothing I haven’t seen you do before.”

You really really wanted to just deck him, but you knew he could probably release those photos with just one push of a button.  He was prepared.

“Don’t post them,” you pleaded.

“You’ll be good?”

You clenched your jaw.  “I’ll be good,” you answered through your teeth.

“Oh, look at you,” he cooed, “such a sweet girl you are.  Helping out your friend even after she threw you into the lion’s den to protect her secret.”

You hadn’t thought about it that way.  A pit formed in your stomach.

“Now come over here and get on your knees,” he grinned, turning on the camera.    

[padfootastic]

I saw your reblog about the funniest possibility for the prank, which mentioned Remus feeling sorta pity for Sirius losing all those points for Gryffindor, and I raise you “Sirius didn’t even lose any house points, whichever teacher was in charge at the time just asked James to explain the whole morality thing to Sirius and that it’s rude to nearly turn one of your friends into a murderer, and he got detention too.” The professor just figured this was a “Noble House of Black” thing and they’ve seen Bellatrix, they know that those children were not raised with any sort of morality

(Bellatrix, upon hearing he almost got a student killed and only got detention from it: Sweet, maybe he is actually my cousin. I was kind of worried he wasn’t related to me at all, wonder if he’ll give me tips)

i’m ngl, slightly unhinged, morally grey Blacks is one of my favorite tropes ever. i think i’ve talked about this way before but the thought of sirius being cut from the same cloth, no matter how much he tries to be different, is so fkn appealing to me for some reason? and like, i’m also a sucker for bella-sirius friendship and the push & pull they’ll have once he gets to hogwarts bc they’re so close and have a lot of history but also,,,highly contrasting, extreme positions in school/life/war etc makes things difficult. idk. i just have a soft spot for bella for some reason lol

imagine her coming up to sirius post-Prank with like,,,a wrapped something that she silently pushes into his hands before walking away. sirius is torn between ‘will this gut me if i open it?’ and ‘i don’t even care’. when he does open it, it’s something sentimental like idk a set of daggers or an intricate wand holster or some funky, horrific Dark object (think hand of glory vibes) bc bella just has a morbid sense of humor (and no matter how much sirius would deny the likeness, he does too) and this is just a message from her to him going ‘if you wanna do something right, u gotta do it yourself’. idk if any of that made sense but i promise it did in my head lol

[liptonsbabe]

Chains of a family [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Grant! reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Summary: Molly thinks that Bill’s and the reader relationship is a mistake so she wants them apart from each other. Bill’s against his mother wishes and he find a way to drag the reader into the Weasley family officialy

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: none

A/N: Hi! Part 4 of this thing lol. I’m so happy that you guys like this story. It’ll have like 20 chapters or so, i’m still deciding that so yeah, that’s pretty much the thing. Btw, from now on chapters will be more interestings... i hope so lol. Again, english not my mother language. Please let me know if something’s wrong. Aaaaaand if you want to be tagged in the next chapters tell me and i will add you! Enjoy!

Chapter 4: Arguments

The rest of the afternoon passed as normal as the days before your arrival. Arthur Weasley made sure of it. Even if Molly attacked you with her dagger gaze when you and Bill hugged each other after you were done with dessert.

You didn’t know what Mr. Weasley had talked about with his wife while you were taking a shower, however, you noticed the tension rising from their bodies after you sat down at the table next to Bill and saw an annoyance sign on Molly’s lips. Her temple was frowned, reminding you of your own mother's gestures. Those flaming eyes, cleft chin, and pinion lips. Both women contract their features too much when they were upset and in your distress, you knew that they must not be disturbed.

The last thing you wanted was to hurt a marriage as solid as the Weasley's. More than once you heard your mother talk about it with your nanny making a powerful emphasis on how Molly and Arthur were able to carry out their marriage even if their economic conditions were precarious and the war was on their heels. They were an envied couple. Few dared to expand the family as much as they did without money in their pockets and spreading their progeny like a plague. No one was surprised, not even your mother, not when her marriage to Evan Grant was merely for financial advantage. Now Arthur and Molly looked upset, too upset for your understanding and you just hoped they could get along soon.

You weren't sure you deserved the sacrifice Bill's father had made for you, yet a flame of hope lit up in your chest. If Mr. Weasley started to trust you that was a good sign for others to do as well, right?

The afternoon continued as normal, seeing how Bill's plans to distract you from the fervent harassment of his mother was marred by the twins intervention. They had just finished a new product for their store and needed a good taster to certify the quality of their merchandise. It was a bad idea, he told himself, because twins were just a disaster and you didn't know them well enough to deny their good-natured pretensions.

"Be kind!" He yelled at them as Fred and George pulled you into their. Bill exhaled, pleading that his brothers wouldn't bother his girlfriend more than his mother already had.

Before taking you home, he thought about the pros and cons of your stay in the burrow. His conclusion was based on the fact that his entire family welcomed Harry Potter with open arms, so you didn't have to be the exception. He knew the difference in conditions in which his theory developed, yet he put his trust in the good judgment of his family even if the Grants' past left much to be desired. Bill didn't talk much about you with his mother, in fact, your presence at home was the last of his worries, the real problem came at the time of joining the Order of the Phoenix, would you be willing to fight against your relatives even if that mean betraying your own blood? Bill hope you will

Coming downstairs, Bill found his mother storing the leftover food in the fridge while the dishes soaked in the sink. Then he watched her clean each plate with her bare hands, no magic. William knew his anger was real.

"Want some help with that?"

"I'd love to, honey, thank you," his mother answered without looking at him. Bill raised the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows, dipping his hands into the tide of water and bubbles that flew across the kitchen. Molly was silent, drying the dishes and flying them to her place in the display case across the kitchen. Bill cleared his throat doubtfully "It never hurts to help, much less when I have so many things to do before the rest of the Order arrive"

"Don't worry, I'll help you with that too."

"Perfect"

"Mom, can we talk?"

"About what?

"You know what," Bill clicked his tongue, passing her the last plate from the sink to continue with the spoons. "(Y/N)..."

"Your father has scolded me enough about that girl, I don't need you to do it too"

"I wouldn't if you had a little consideration with her."

"More consideration?" Molly asked in a squeak. Bill shook his head. "I'm letting her stay at my home!"

"Our home, mom, ours," he corrected, drying his hands with a cloth. "This house also belongs to my dad, my brothers, and me. It's the burrow, a family property, not a secret club where some people can get in and others cannot."

"You know what I think of her"

"And you know I don't care." Molly looked scandalized at her son. She didn't understand what he had seen in someone like you or what you had given him to come out and defend you as he did "I don't ask you to love her, but at least you have to try...

"Have you ever wondered what will happen when she betrays us?"

"That's not gonna happen"

"You're very sure of that, William"

"I'm convinced, Mom. You don't know her like I do and, you know what? I see that wanting to talk to you was a mistake"

"Moody thinks like me," Molly stopped him when Bill was ready to go upstairs. The woman clung to the railing watching her son standing in the first step out of the kitchen "(Y/N) Grant is a danger to the Order"

"Really? Like Mundungus Fletcher? I beg your pardon, mom, but if there is anyone who represents a latent danger to the Order of the Phoenix, it's him and yet you have assigned him for the mission tonight"

Molly's lips parted and if it weren't for the fact that Bill knew her mother too well, he might think the woman was about to throw herself on the floor in a tantrum. Still, she clenched the bars tightly, her brow furrowed, and the redness on her cheeks washed over her forehead.

"William!" Don't talk to me like that!"

"I wouldn't if you had a little more respect for my girlfriend."

"Don't you understand? I care about you! For all of us!" She snarled angrily. "Having a Riddle in this house..."

"A Grant, mom, (Y/N) is a Grant and that's not the same." Bill descended his steps, approaching her mother, returning that angry look that she had inherited from him. It was a strange sensation. A dyad of emotions between joy and fear where the composed emotion was guilt. He had never exploded that way with his mother, but Molly hadn't behaved that way with anyone either "His grandfather is Lord Voldemort's half-brother and his brothers are all Death Eaters, what does it matter? (Y/N) is not. And when do we judge others by where they come from? If so, we could start with half of us. Being a Weasley is equivalent to being a blood traitor"

"William!"

Molly's face went from fury to shock to fury again. Bill's eyes were twinkling and Molly swore she had never seen any of her children this angry, or worse, this determined.

"What would you have done, Mom?" Bill questioned taking his mother by his arms in an attempt to make him feel her despair. Molly opened her eyes, scared. "When your family tell you not to accept dad? When your brothers object to your engagement, just 'cause the Weasleys have long been considered blood traitors?"

For the first time that day Molly's mind went blank, Bill guessed, rewinding the memories of how difficult it was for the Prewetts to accept the marriage. Bill pleaded silently, but pulled away from her when his mother gave no indication to be a little more respectful with you.

"We aren't like that. We don't separate people by where they come from, we hug them" Bill resumed his way towards the stairs, stopping a couple of steps up, turning to take a look at Molly's stunned figure "As you did with Hermione, Remus and Harry when you and Dad became his godparents after Sirius died. (Y/N) is no different"

"She will turn her back on us when the Order fight the Grants. That moment will come and you know it"

"Don't worry, i'll make sure that doesn't happen"

"She is not part of this family"

"That can be solved very easily," he said and the smile he wore gave her a terrible chill down her spine. "Because I'm going to ask her to be my wife."

Molly's gasp was the only thing Bill heard before climbing the stairs and heading to the twins' room. He always respected his mother a lot and even thinking of opposing to her wishes was inconceivable, but your well-being was something that was involved and Bill couldn't just let her mother control his life at her will. Maybe the mistake he made was not telling his parents the truth about you from the start or, in that case, mentioning that the woman he loved was the fucking niece of the strongest fucking dark wizard of all time.

Bill Weasley rubbed his face as he reached the twins' door. He no longer had to torment himself, it was done and the only thing pending at the moment was to get Harry out of his uncles' house, take him safely to the burrow and find the courage to do what he told his mother he would do.

Would you agree to marry him? He hoped so and if not, he wouldn't pressure you. You were young - even a little younger than him - and it would be understandable if you refused to tie your life to someone else's from one moment to the other. The war progressed every day and if you were going to do it, you would do it as soon as possible.

Loud laughings brought him out of his thoughts to observe you and his brothers sitting on the floor, right in the center of both beds, laughing at each other and touching your faces. From the doorway Bill can't see the full painted room, however George's face showed a rather abstract mural full of bright colors when he felt the presence of his older brother. Fred did the same showing his face in the same situation and then you turned to Bill, still laughing and your face smeared with paint. It seemed the twins had created a paint bomb in millimeter pills, that explode when you put a little bit of pressure. You tried to clean yourself with the sleeve of your sweater but you spread the paint even more. Fred and George laughed and so did Bill.

His heart swelled with love as he saw that at least someone in his family - besides him and his father - had hope in you. God, he may have even cried with happiness.

Bill never understood how a sunshine as beautiful as you was never accepted in your entire life.

Tags:

@purple-vodka-99

@vampirestrawberries

Thanks for the 100 followers!❤

[serendipityjxmn]

Mr. President

Chapter 20

TW: Explicit violence, mentions of guns, drugs trafficking, gory killing scene

Words Count: 3k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 21

At first, you’re more like a property to him. He learned that the only way he can keep something or someone around for a long time, is if he treats them like a property. Because human’s feelings change, and he needs to protect himself from hurting.

Everything that he’s told you, the reason behind the marriage, the purpose of you are all true.

He needs to marry anyway, as one of the stupid ancient condition his old father has set and he knows his father had set it to make him stay grounded.

He scoffs, wondering why his father doesn’t learn from his past mistakes. And that’s why he’s made a plan on his own, to marry someone without a powerful background, one he can easily dispose when it’s time, one who won’t be a liability to him. A tool.

And now that tool is missing. He pinches his temple, eyes shut close. He’s alone in his office, late at night because he doesn’t sleep well these days.

Since his wife had packed her bags, left him and gone missing.

He sighs thinking about the last argument he had with you. It’s your own fault for building castles in the air and mistaking those as his genuine gesture and fall in love with him. And he realises that because he is not stupid. And during that one night, he sees you, fully sees you and he can’t deny the desire it stirred in his mind. This may be a temporary marriage but it doesn’t mean that he can’t touch you. After all, you are his wife. He knows you are beautiful, he’d known it since the first day because he isn’t blind. Yet he knows he can’t touch you without your consent. Although he did slip up because he tends to lose his vigilance around you. And that’s how he came up with another proposal.

Yet the proposal took a very different turn and became your last straw to leave him.

He couldn’t believe that you’re stupid enough to fall in love with him. Don’t you fear him? You know he’s dangerous yet you still confess your love to him and he doesn’t know whether to worship you at your feet or spanks you for it.

He’s never led you on and has never failed to remind what you are to him, simply an object yet you still fall for him.

He lets out another heavy sigh. Because frankly, he doesn’t know what to do. All of these aren’t supposed to happen and you’re not supposed to love him.

He had put up barriers and boundaries around himself and that’d made it very hard for anyone to simply approach him. People don’t approach him unless they want something from him and he’s well aware of it because he knows how the world works. Not to mention the fact that he’s the leader of the biggest mafia gang, notorious for all sorts of services they offer; machinery, assassinations, bribery, illegal weaponry, drugs trafficking and namely everything else. That had made it a billion times more difficult for anyone to approach or him to let anyone in.

And you’re well aware of it.

But you still fall for him.

He just doesn’t get it; how you’re able to fall for him despite knowing who he is and what he’s capable of.

He scoffs thinking how he could easily kill you. You’re too soft, weak and fragile.

Yet you still fall for him.

Despite knowing how easily he could kill you.

And without asking for anything in return.

And Jimin doesn’t find that believable at all. And at the face of such genuine adoration, he doesn’t know what to do. Because who on earth would be stupid enough to do that?

But you did. You are his stupid wife.

And that makes it even easier to kill you, not just by him. And the thought of anyone laying a finger on you angers him. It makes him want to kill someone. Tear their limbs one by one. Burn them alive. There’s just too many options.

But first he has to find you.

He sighs, for the hundredth time. You’re such a headache.

And that’s when his phone rings. A call from a private number.

“If it isn’t Y/N’s beloved husband..”

Jimin could feel his whole body tensing. “Who are you?”

The person from the other end laughs. “Damn, I need to come find you more often so you’d remember. You beat me into a pulp before.. and now I want leverage. You think you can just take my sister for free?“

Jimin’s hand clamp in a tight fist. “Jay.”

“You remember.. not bad. You see, when you take my little sister, you’ve caused me some complications. You can say she’s my source of income. She’s a pretty slut, no denying that. And I could’ve earned fortunes from selling her off. And you-“

“How much do you want?” Jimin cuts him off.

“Ah.. you’re a smart man.” He laughs before his tone turns serious again. “100 million won would do. For now. And don’t bullshit me saying you don’t have money or whatever. I know you have that much.”

“Where should I meet you?”

“I’ll text you the time and place. And don’t think of calling the police or bring your little friends. I have someone powerful backing me. She’s my little sister, but I’m not gonna hesitate to do anything if you don’t listen to my words. Right, little sister?”

A shrieking scream piercing through the phone is the last thing Jimin hears before Jay hangs up. Jimin’s whole body filled with rage and he grips his phone so tight it almost breaks into two.

“He’s not gonna come...” you slur, your vision not entirely clear and your swollen lips making it hard to enunciate words once Jay finishes his phone call to your husband.

“We’ll see about that bitch. And if he doesn’t.. count your time now..” he says in full malicious tone.

You don’t know how long you’ve been knocked out again but you wake up when you hear commotions.

“And the knight is finally here.” You hear your brother’s voice.

You struggle to focus on your vision. Your whole body freezes when your husband comes into view.

There’s no way Jimin’s here.

Perhaps it’s just a hallucination.

It’s a whole level of pathetic, you think. Because even when you’re in this state, he’s all you could see.

Perhaps you’re really nearing the end of your life, and your mind conjures whatever it desperately wants the most.

“Clara, what the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” The person hisses.

And it’s weird because it’s your husband’s voice.

You blink several times.

And there really is your husband, walking into the warehouse alone. He can’t had possibly willingly walks into a lion’s den alone like that? It’s like a death wish.

Clara turns immediately as soon as she sees Jimin. “Ah.. Jimin.. my Jimin..”

Someone comes and pushes Jimin forward and makes him sit on a chair and tie his hands on his back.

You swallow thickly. You still can’t process the fact that your husband is here.

He finally turns to look at you and he stares at you for several moments, just taking in the sight of battered you covered in bruises and blood and you see the clench in his jaw.

You let out a gasp when the guy standing beside him takes out his gun and points the muzzle on the back of his head. You feel anger bubbling inside you at the sight of it.

Gathering all source of strength, you yell, “Leave my husband out of this Jay!”

Jay quickly steps forward and leaves a stinging slap on your cheek. “If you dare hurt him..” you start and earns another slap from him, making you whimper in pain. You cough several times, your throat feels like burning.

Jimin eyes you furiously. “Keep quiet. Don’t make any sound.” He says, jaw still clenched very tightly. “Clara, what the fuck is this? Why are you here?”

She comes and slowly sits on Jimin’s lap. You notice how he doesn’t flinch away or jerk from her touch. “Baby.. we’ve dealt for years.. good business, good sex. And then you’re suddenly married and you just.. I don’t know, changed?” She says as she runs her fingers across your husband’s cheek.

Jimin just glares at her. “Why did you help him?”

She runs her hand down from his cheeks to his jaw and then settles on his chest, palms flat against them. She shrugs then. “I don’t know.. you know I’m a little crazy. I like having fun. And things.. had been boring. Business is boring, you are boring.. and perhaps I’m trying to put you in place a little, you asshole.” She glares at him.

He gives a very murderous look. “I’m gonna make sure you regret this.”

She leans closer. “Awww shh baby.. I’m not gonna hurt your precious little wife..” and closer. You realize she’s about to kiss him and you hastily look away. You don’t want the last memory you have of your husband before you die is being kissed by another woman. She gets up from his lap, fingers still faintly brushing him everywhere. Then she smirks. “But maybe he will.” She laughs and then exits through the door.

“Did you come with what I ask for?” Jay asks and Jimin juts his chin towards a large black duffel bag on the floor beside him that you hadn’t realized. Jay grins. “Nice doing business with you.. brother in law.”

“Now let us go.” Jimin says.

Jay stops inspecting the money inside the bag and turns to look at him. “No, don’t think it’s that easy..” He signals something and one of his men comes forward. “See, perhaps you don’t really know my sister.. but let me tell you this. She is a fucking whore. And I’m gonna let her be a whore. And you.. you’re going to watch every single men here stick their dick into her pussy.”

Your whole body goes numb as soon as you hear that. Desperately, you glance at your husband. He doesn’t look at you but instead just stares at your brother. You’ve never seen him look so murderous before. Your eyes widen in panic when they pull you from the chair and then roughly push you till you’re kneeling on the floor on all four.

“J-Jimin-” you say, voice thick with desperation.

“Sshh.. shh little sister.. don’t worry.. perhaps your husband might even get hard from this. Don’t you want to please your husband?” Jay smirks.

You feel you eyes start to water when your brain reaches an end and think that there’s no way of escaping this.

He calls one of his men and several others starts to approach as well, all wearing the same look of lust. Jay grabs a handful of your hair and yank it backwards, forcing you to look up. “She’s all yours..”

The nearest guy smirks and licks his lips as he looks at you and starts to strip his pants. You look away immediately. You let out a cry when the guy kneels beside you and yanks your jeans down, exposing your bottom.

“No, no please, please-“ you start to beg and Jimin hisses.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut.” He grits. “Don’t beg.”

You look at him and find him staring right back at you.

“Just look at me.” He says and fresh set of tears run down your cheeks.

The guy smacks your behind making you cry in pain and you almost collapse to the ground but he holds your waist firmly, groping each side harshly. Then, you feel a hand slides from your shoulder towards your throat and slowly starts choking you.

Your head starts to spin from the lack of air supply and you want to scream so badly but no words could come out. The pressure on your throat is so immense and your lung starts to ache.

Then you see a knife hovering in front of you.

A moment of realization hits you that you’re really about to die and it suddenly makes it so imperative that you tell something to Jimin.

“J-Jimin- I love-“

But before you could finish your words, you hear people bursting the doors open and people in suits come rushing in large quantity.

You try to focus your vision on your husband.

His face is calm. Too calm.

Your sight moves towards the crowd rushing in again and briefly sees Taeseok among them and a rush of relief runs through you. The guy choking you eases his grip on your throat instantly as he gets distracted and you feel like collapsing immediately as you struggle to breath again.

Everything happens so quickly. Someone rushes to your husband’s side and unties him and then he’s beside you instantly while someone else unties you. You try your best to glance behind you and sees Jungkook frantically untying you after fixing your clothes.

“Y/N oh my god-“

Jimin quickly shrugs his coat off his shoulder and immediately covers you. He looks at you as he holds you tight. His embrace is so warm and you just want to close your eyes and lean against him. “Keep your eyes open, we’re getting out of here.” He says roughly.

You’re not entirely sure with your vision but you think someone gives Jimin a gun and he starts shooting at people and you freeze, sounds blaring so loudly in your ear. You let out a strangled scream and you squirm away under his embrace that he looks down immediately. Then he looks at Jungkook.

“Jungkook.” He says and Jungkook nods and you feel yourself slipping out of Jimin’s hold while Jungkook brings you flush against him.

For a moment, there are just sounds of guns, people screaming and punches being thrown.

Jungkook pulls you to the side where it’s safer but you just can’t shut your eyes when there’s too many things going on. You then try to focus on your husband. He’s a good few metres away from you and you couldn’t clearly see the face of the other person but you think Jimin’s holding the guy that was going to rape you just now. And then he shoots him right in the head without thinking. And then another shot right at his chest even though the guy’s already crumbling to the ground, lifeless.

Someone then comes up and thrusts your brother to Jimin, making him kneel in front of your husband. You don’t see it before but you now notice that he’s holding a knife on his right hand. Jay’s expression turns horror as Jimin nears him. And then slowly, your husband carves his face with the knife as your brother’s inhuman shriek fills the warehouse.

Your eyes go wide with horror as you watch the traumatising scene unfolds. You feel a scream bubbling from deep inside your throat yet they’re unable to escape from your lips. Your throat somehow still feels constricted.

“Holy fucking shit.” Jungkook mutters and you realize his grip on your arms tightens.

It’s slowly getting more quiet in the warehouse as most of your brother’s or Clara Kim’s men are now dead as they were hugely outnumbered by Jimin’s people. You then realize that he’s taking his time with your brother.

“What did you say you’re about to do to my wife? Cut out her face?” He chuckles. “Let me show you the real art.”

He leans close.

And then he carves your brother’s right eye out while he shrieks in pain.

“This is for touching my wife.”

And then he carves the other one.

“This is for messing with me.”

The scream finally escapes your lips.

“Fuck-“ Jungkook says and quickly covers your eyes and mouth.

The screaming doesn’t stop for a few more minutes and you think you’ll remember your brother’s inhuman scream till the day you die.

“Jimin stop it. She’s gonna get a trauma.” You hear someone says. Jin..?

You hear footsteps approaching you and then suddenly, Jungkook’s hand is being yanked away and your husband’s face comes into view. His forehead beaded with sweat and his expression furious.

You look at him in horror, frankly still traumatised and terrified at him.

But he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he thrusts a gun into your hand. “Do you want to kill him?”

Your panic immediately and clutched his arm desperately. “No, no please- let’s just go-“

“Ssh.. ssh I’m here.” He takes back the gun. “And we’re gonna get out of here.” He pulls you into his embrace, cocks the gun and fire a shot straight into Jay’s head.

Your entire body freeze. You watch in horror as your brother’s life starts seeping out, his breathing ragged until finally.. it stops.

“Good God- did you really have to shoot him in front of Y/N?” You hear Namjoon says.

“What?” Jimin asks, confused.

“God, you’re so stupid sometimes Park Jimin.” Yoongi says roughly.

Your husband finally turns to look at you and registers the paleness of your face. “Y/N, you okay?” He asks and then makes you stand to your feet. He keeps his hand steady on your waist and you’re thankful because you can’t feel your feet at all.

You don’t know how but from the corner of your eyes, you see someone who’s lying on the floor slowly lifts a gun and your eyes widen when you realize he’s aiming at your husband.

One of Jimin’s bodyguard sees it too and moves to kick the gun away and he did- but not before the guy cocks the gun and all the bodyguard manages to do is change the target, because the bullet hits you instead.

You fell to the ground immediately when the bullet cuts through your shoulder. It’s weird because it hurts so much that you almost feel nothing at all.

Jimin’s eyes widen when he sees you.

For a brief moment, you think you see your whole life flashes by in your mind very quickly.

If you die right now at the hands of your husband.. that you’d fallen in love with.. it doesn’t seem so bad..

You smile.

Then slowly, you bring your hand up to Jimin’s face to touch him one last time.

And then everything blacks out.

A/N: I rarely write post chapter notes because I’m afraid it would destroy your emotions lol but I just wanna thank everyone who had given support since day 1.. the story would not have come this far without the kind words you guys gave me. I feel a little bit emotional because we’re almost more than halfway through with their journey.. haha okay I’ll stop here. see you guys in the next chap! 🥰

Buy me a coffee here! 💜

Link to Chapter 21

Posted on 210516 9:00PM

[hannigramficrecs]

Hey, do you have any "long" (30k up only) hannigram fics, with hannibal's pov (preference, but not absolutely necessary) of AUs, like the best long fic AUs you can think of, like time-travel, different meetings, abo, etc.

No vampire, mermaids or werewolves au tho.

If you can, of course. Thank you alredy 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

I’m not sure if these are all Hannibal’s POV, but here are a list of all my favorite long AU’s (sorry if I included too many LOL). Also if anyone’s interested here are links to the mermaid and werewolf fics

Palace of Dreams by MaiTai1327 [words: 41,986]

A lonely boy at a Lithuanian orphanage creates a memory palace for him to hide away from his despicable circumstances and the nightmares haunting him. In his dreams, his palace becomes reality. And one day, he finds another boy hiding in one of its rooms.

Our Stars are the Same by beforethedawn, ConstructFairytales, Destinyawakened [words: 42,578]

Someone’s moved into the old creepy, supposedly haunted, mansion down the way from Will Graham and his family. Will never expects to befriend the new family’s son.

Vena Amoris by PaperPlaneChemTrails [words: 55,596]

Will Graham is a producer on a Bachelor knock off reality TV show. Against his protests and better judgement, Dr. Hannibal Lecter is cast as the primary love interest on the show. Despite his many initial misgivings, Hannibal is a hit, and Will finds himself as drawn into the story Hannibal is creating as everyone watching at home. Everything is going well until Will becomes suspicious that he is the real object of Hannibal’s affections, and all of a sudden contestants start to turn up murdered.

Little Arts of Vice by drinkbloodlikewine, whiskeyandspite [words: 44,991]

Cruel Intentions AU. “Tedium draws me to observation,” he murmurs. “Contemplation.” “Manipulation,” Mischa adds calmly, tilts her head when Hannibal narrows his eyes at her. “You wouldn’t deny it, Hannibal, you’re proud of that one. And in truth you do it well.” “There is little to manipulate when watching a dog chase a bird.” It starts with a bet.

A Past of Plank and Nail by gleamingandwholeanddeadly (something_safe), printersdeadly, printersdevils (tuesdaysgone) [words: 87,821]

Hannibal needs a kitchen remodel, and his colleague and friend Alana knows just the guy to help him with his rundown new home. Enter Will Graham, carpenter and contractor extraordinaire, and devastating addition to Hannibal’s daily life. When he starts running out of new projects to keep Will around, Hannibal fast realizes his infatuation is more than simple attraction - and that getting Will to agree to dinner is only the first hurdle.

Redemption by houseofcannibals [words: 132,427]

After very publicly losing his mind and murdering three young women in an unconscious state, FBI consultant Will Graham is sentenced to serve three consecutive life sentences in the notorious Shawshank State Prison. Upon arrival, he is unsettled to find himself in a cell neighboring that of infamous serial killer Dr Hannibal Lecter.

Carnivore, Won’t You Come Digest Me? by HigherMagic [words: 64,019]

Role Reversal AU: Following the execution of Garrett Jacob Hobbs, Hannibal is forced to see Doctor Will Graham for a psychiatric evaluation before he can return to the field. Once cleared, Jack insists that Will shadow Hannibal in the hopes of catching the Shrike’s copycat. Hannibal has become a master of making sure the FBI stays blind to his extracurricular activities, but Will is a man who sees far too much, and won’t be so easily overcome.

Page Six by ThisBeautifulDrowning [words: 66,839]

Crime reporter Will Graham’s column on page six of the Baltimore Sun garners him the attention of many: fans, hobby detectives, the FBI…and others. Hannibal cut off a piece of meat with surgical precision. “I find your company rather engaging.” “Maybe I don’t find you all that engaging.” Silence. Hannibal grinned. “I see that it will take more than one dinner to earn your forgiveness. Challenge accepted.”

Falls the Shadow by littlesystems [words: 72,455]

AU where Bedelia is Will’s psychiatrist instead of Hannibal, Will makes a series of increasingly questionable life choices, and no one should ever take Bedelia’s advice. Ever.

Rescues by drinkbloodlikewine and whiskeyandspite [words: 99,552]

Mischa is living with PTSD, and Hannibal seeks out a service animal to help her. He meets Will, trainer of therapy dogs - cue puppies, adorable interactions and lots of dogs. And smut. Of course.

Where the Albatross Crash-Lands by HigherMagic [words: 40,220]

Everyone has two marks on their arm: one is the name of their soulmate, the other is the name of their mortal enemy. There’s no way of knowing which is which. This same trick of fate makes it so that your Marks are the only two voices you will ever hear when you go deaf at sixteen. Hannibal has a nice voice. Will hopes he’s his mate. He hopes he never hears the voice of the Chesapeake Ripper.

Provenance by drinkbloodlikewine, whiskeyandspite [words: 62,735]

A delightful AU about a rare book dealer, an owner of a high-end coffee shop, and murder. This does involve Hannibal Lecter, after all.

A Fortunate Wound by starkaryen [words: 83,312]

Will Graham, a police officer in Baltimore, is shot while he’s on duty. The surgeon on call in the ER is Hannibal Lecter.

Until I Met You by Dormchi [words: 33,990]

Detective Will Graham needs an expert and Fire Lieutenant Hannibal Lecter happens to be available. Basically this is just arson, murder, coffee, and fluff.

Canvases by thatviciousvixen [words: 36,660]

When Hannibal meets a handsome artist with a keen interest in death he knows he’s finally met a kindred spirit. All Will needs is a little push.

In Sickness and in Health by BonesAndScales [words: 67,450]

Everyone knows that Will and Hannibal are married. Not everyone knows that they are married to each other.

The Escapists by whiskeyandspite [words: 35,368]

Will’s cellmate said nothing, and Will didn’t venture. He had been prickly enough as a lecturer, where human interaction was mandatory, and prison was not the sort of place one made friends. One either made allies or enemies, or stayed quiet enough to avoid both. Will doubted he’d be that lucky; far too easy to rile up especially when stupidity was the catalyst. Prison, Will thought absently, was similar to college.

Sweeter Bitter by wormsin [words: 89,503]

Will is an awkward student and Hannibal an intrigued mentor.

Before You And After You by ache_for_him, Breakmybones (CarterReid), CarterReid [words: 33,734]

Hannibal and Will had a past: a dirty, bloody, violent past. Will was sure he’d never see his own personal monster again - then he walked into Jack Crawford’s office.

Ethics & Aesthetics by fragile-teacup [words: 106,330]

Pride and Prejudice omegaverse AU

Look, Mother! The Sheep Have Devoured the Wolves! by HigherMagic [words: 102,934]

Hannibal and Bedelia are married, but unable to have children. At Margot’s insistence, Hannibal agrees to meet the Omega that was a surrogate for her and Alana. Will is rough-edged, unrefined, and everything Hannibal shouldn’t desire. This arrangement promises to be clean, and simple. Of course, nothing concerning Will Graham is ever simple.

Wings of Wax and Feather by BelladonnaWyck and raiast [words: 55,947]

“Did you just smell me?” "Difficult to avoid. My apologies, I didn’t realize there were any Omegas in this section of the prison.” “Most get sent to the Omega Holding Facility two counties over. But then, most don’t get done in for rippin’ out an Alpha’s throat in the middle of the street.” or Hannibal Lecter had always known the winding road of fate may one day lead him straight to a prison cell. He’d never imagined he’d find his true mate there.

Truly, Madly, Deeply by slashyrogue [words: 52,811]

They meet by chance at a Christmas Party and share a kiss that seals their fate.

Purity by PixieDust291 [words: 130,528]

Will is cast aside by his alpha and sacrificed to the Wendigo that hunts in the forest. However, after confronting the creature Will then finds himself in the home of Hannibal. The alpha lives alone and seems to have taken it upon himself to nurture Will back to health. Over time Will grows comfortable with Hannibal and slowly reveals the reasons for his abandonment. Hannibal, being a pure bred alpha of the highest caliber, is well aware of just how rare and valuable Will is and decides to take the wounded omega for himself.

Quatervois by stratumgermanitivum, whiskeyandspite [words: 33,226]

Will is an Omega who desires independence and freedom. Hannibal is an Alpha who finds his mind curious. They make a deal: if Will can convince Hannibal that he is worth more than breeding stock, and can go through his heat without begging for his Alpha, Hannibal will not mate him, but make him a ward instead; Will could go to college, get a job, do anything he wanted. If not, then he will be Hannibal’s mate, bear pups, and accept his role. But is it really as simple as that?

[angelguk]

→ pu$$y fairy — a jeongguk scenario

member: jeon jungkook

word count: 3.2k

genre: smut + college!au + jeongguk and oc are in a weird fwbs without the friendship part just the benefits except jaykay lowkey has feelings + virginity au

warnings: virgin!oc / blowjob / we talk about dicks for a bit / oc is strange / jaykay is confused / cum swallowing / first times / not really edited / mingyu the meddling best fwend

soundtrack: on the way, jhene aiko + hold on (slowed and reverb), the internet

Jeongguk doesn’t hate Mingyu. He truly doesn’t. He is one of his closest friends after all; he’d held him up after Jeongguk had dumped half a keg down his throat and his legs had promptly collapsed.  He’d also been a successful wingman for when Jeongguk was aiming to add Seolhyun to the list of girls he’d bagged, sent pictures of his organic chemistry notes when Jeongguk had missed more than half of the classes in high school and didn’t laugh at him when he was heart-broken over Sua and borderline depressed. He was a true friend; someone Jeongguk could rely on. It was a simple brother-like relationship that Jeongguk deeply treasured. So no, he could never hate Mingyu – but he could absolutely long to punch that insufferable asshole in the face.

He should have known this was going to go downhill exceptionally fast the moment you stumbled into his room, wide-eyed and nervous in your unsure steps. When his pants had hit the ground, the shock in your eyes was a dead giveaway to how messy this whole arrangement was going to be. The second clear sign was when you jumped out his window because the sight of his bare dick terrified you.

And this was all the result of Mingyu being a meddling shit who didn’t know when to mind his business.

He remembers it with a clarity that makes his shoulders tense, how Mingyu had snuck you into the conversation while twisting a soju bottle in his hands.

“Yo… JK…. You mind if I ask you a question?” He’d said. Jeongguk shrugged, focused on flipping the meat on the grill because he was starving and the prospect of cooked meat was a lot more appealing than feigning interest in a conversation. “Alright…," Mingyu took his silence as a cue to speak. “Have you ever fucked a virgin?”

He should have known then. He really should have known.

“I don’t know. I don’t ask any questions when I’m hard,” Jeongguk had replied, unknowing of the dangerous path this conversation was guiding him down.

“Yeah and most of the time you don’t fuck on an actual bed. I’m not even surprised you don’t ask questions.”

“Hey!” Jeongguk had swung the tongs around. “I ask important ones, like consent and making sure we’ve got a condom around. But virginity? Not my concern.”

“Seems a bit…. Whorish to me.”

“Not whorish. I just have my priorities elsewhere… Like cumming for example.”

Mingyu had sighed as he poured him a shot, the air leaving his lips heavy. “I shouldn’t even be asking you to be honest. You’re a decent guy but your kind of a dickhead when it comes to sex.”

“How does not pondering on virginity make me dickhead? Again, as I said, priorities are elsewhere.”

“Dude you’ve never even tried to have meaningful sex at least once in your life. When was the last time you were actually emotionally invested in the person you were sleeping with? Hmm?”

The answer was Sua and he knew that but Mingyu was decent enough to keep her name out of his mouth, the judging look in his eyes saying enough.

“You know… I don’t do well with the whole emotional thing. I prefer it physical. It’s less messy. But what does this even have to do with virginity?” Jeongguk hated to admit it but he was somewhat interested in where this conversation was going. If only he knew it was leading to a massive train wreck of the one thing, he steered clear from – emotions.

Mingyu had just sighed again, tipping the soju bottle into his shot glass once more. “There’s a girl who I’d like you to meet.”

He’d scoffed, mouth stuffed with a perilla leaf wrap. “You know I don’t do blind dates.”

“It’s not a blind date,” Mingyu had retorted, the glance he threw at his friend’s direction precarious. “She wants you to take her virginity.”

Jeongguk had choked. Of course, he had. Even if sex didn’t mean much to him, taking someone’s first time like that felt very transactional. And Jeongguk wasn’t that big of a dickhead. But then Mingyu had opened his mouth, spewing various details about your life to him that he would rather have not heard over a KBBQ lunch. You were a friend from one of his business lectures, rather eccentric but sweet and funny. You were also a virgin and terrified of approaching men on your own, one of the reasons Mingyu had sprung up this arrangement. Jeongguk wasn’t one to fall into things like this but it was too late. Mingyu was a marketing major for a reason, he knew how to spin words in his favour, convince people into agreeing to things that they normally would not. And that’s how Jeongguk found himself staring at your retreating figure after you’d thrown your body right out his window, landing hard on the lawn of the house he rented with Namjoon and Seokjin. The crazy thing was that you’d gotten up immediately, not showing any sign of a broken bone or injuries, before promptly sprinting down the road to the bus stop. He should have known then. He really should have known. And yet, here he is, pants discarded on the floor of his room and his dick aching from being unrelieved for longer than it’s ever been, while you crouch over him, squinting at his penis like it’s a foreign object that could kill you.

“Could you please stop staring at my penis like that.” He says it out of frustration, but also the way you’re examining his length makes him feel self-conscious in a way he hasn’t felt like in a long time.

“Sorry,” you murmur, not breaking eye contact with his dick. “I’m just… fascinated. It’s rather….” The sentence tapers out and you swallow hard as if it pains you to admit it, “...Ugly.”

Jeongguk decides then and there he hates you.

“I mean... It’s not that it’s ugly!” you swiftly attempt to amend, catching the glare he directs at you. “It’s also big!”

“I know. And you just said it was ugly,” Jeongguk retorts, weighing the options in his head. Either get a poor blowjob from a girl he’s terrified of (but also bizarrely attracted too) or kick you out of his room and finish himself off. The situation sucks either way but it’s better than the last time when you’d leapt out of the window like a gazelle.

“I misspoke,” you say, gently falling onto your knees. You flash him a shy smile, a soft delicate little thing that makes your eyes glitter and Jeongguk instantly picks the first option. “It’s just different to what I expected it to look like.”

He scoffs, swallowing hard on the sudden lump in his throat. “There’s no way you haven’t seen a dick before. You don’t watch porn?”

The grimace you make is enough of an answer. “I have… Not all the time though, it’s too much for me sometimes. Also, it’s weird seeing it in real life and not, like, through a screen.”

“Noted. But still, it’s not that ugly,” Jeongguk murmurs, trying not to compare his penis to the visuals he has in his head. His pride is wounded from that comment he won’t deny it.

“It kinda is,” you reply. Jeongguk flicks your forehead in retaliation. “Ow! Why’d you do that.” There’s that stupid pout in your lips as you glower at him. He despises how his dick twitches at the sudden thought of your pretty mouth wrapped around his length. Despises it even more when you gasp at the slight motion trembling through him. “It moves?!”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk sighs, wondering how on Earth you’re over the age of twenty and still like this. “It does. Also, don’t insult my dick. It’s rude.”

“Sorry again,” you pause as if you’re considering whether what you might utter next is offensive. You open your mouth anyway, unable to comprehend the fact that your words are slowly chipping away at his ego. “It’s kinda scary that it moves.”

“Oh my god, you are the literal worst.” Jeongguk thinks his boner might evaporate. It’s a miracle it’s lasted this long. You’d sauntered into his room around half an hour again and he’d been hard from the get-go. Truly amazing his balls hadn’t shrivelled up yet. “You know you’re about to blow me off right?”

“I know… I’m stupid,” you counter, eyebrows furrowing together like you’re attempting to figure out exactly how Jeongguk’s dick works. It’d be very simple if you just asked him. It’s essentially an up and down motion, some swirls, a lot of wetness. Nothing too difficult. But when you glance up at him, the innocent glaze over your eyes almost hopeless, he can tell it feels the same as defusing a bomb. “I just… Don’t know what to do. Show me?”

And there it is - the foolish little thing that landed Jeongguk here half-naked on the edge of his bed in the first place. Even though you were mildly repulsed by the male autonomy you were still so eager to learn. Something Jeongguk didn’t know he would be into until you posed that question and his balls tightened in a way they have never done before.

“Okay,” he mumbles, hoping you don’t suspect the twitch that runs through his length when you say that. Not like you would, to be fair.

But then you sweep your hair back, lean in fast, no preparation or anything before your breath is brushing against his crotch and Jeongguk nearly screams.

“Woah, woah, woah! I thought you just asked me to show you? What are you doing?” Maybe he scuttles further down the bed, terrified of the rush of heat you send straight to his gut.  

Your eyes flicker upward, bright and ingenuous. “Am I doing it wrong?”

“You’re not -,” Jeongguk sighs breath weighing through the air. “You’re not doing it wrong. I just think... We should go slow right? It’s your first time? Maybe don’t rush into it?”

“I watched a YouTube video and they said to do it like that,” you reply. Jeongguk can’t help but blink at you, brain reeling from attempting to understand your being.

“You watched a - never mind. You’re giving me a headache. And I thought you knew nothing. Porn would have been a better research alternative but to each their own.”

“I did it for preparation! I didn't know it’d be this nerve-wracking in real life. And, I told you, real dicks are gross. She used a dildo.”

“How is a dildo any different to a real dick?” Jeongguk fingers dig into the mattress a little harder when you lean it once more, gingerly resting your head against his knee.

“It’s just different. Less grotesque. And they come in various colours.”

He might just actually scream. “It’s literally made to replicate a penis.”

You sigh, your breath skipping against his skin. The room is suddenly tight, closing in on him and you’re not even really touching him. And then you catch your lip between your teeth, pressing down with a quick thoughtful bite. “I think you’re deflecting right now.”

“I’m not,” he splutters. “Why would I even be deflecting right now?”

“I mean, we’re having a conversation about dildos when your dick is hard and I’m meant to be blowing you. Sounds like deflection doesn’t it?” He hates the way your eyes glitter, bright and captivating as your gaze locks into his.

“Like I said,” Jeongguk retorts, “We should take it slow.”

“Okay then. I’m done talking about dildos unless you have anything else to add?”

“I don’t,” he murmurs, “Okay then, onto giving a blowjob.”

“Onto giving a blowjob,” you reiterate. And then, like a psychopath, you smile. “Where should I start?”

He hates that body is on edge right now, hands trembling even though he hides them by squeezing his bed-sheets tight. “Try giving it a lick first? You can put your hand around the base too - if you want to.”

“Here?” His knees nearly buckle when you wrap your warm palm around his length, grip firm around the base of his cock. But that’s nothing to the gentle lap of your tongue against the side of his cock, a quick little thing and nearly launches him off the bed.

“Oh - uh - yeah, there.” His voice sounds far off and without warning your mouth is against him once more, tongue a sinful little thing that slips along his length, wet and warm and so sneaky he’s unsure of what to respond with apart from an instinctual buck of his hips. It’s easy like this, your tongue pressed against his cock and your hands slowly dragging upwards, placing a perfect pressure along his length that leaves him sighing into the air of his bedroom. Your movements grow more direct, reading the increasing desperation in Jeongguk’s body as he moves closer and closer to you, waiting until you feel sure enough. And then, finally, your mouth sinks onto him.

He nearly whimpers. Nearly. There’s a heat pooling in his gut and ebbs through every muscle and nerve, the coil of his desire springing tighter with each inch that slips down your throat. You take him so well, Jeongguk can’t help but watch in awe, the wideness in your eyes making him harder than he’s ever been in his life. Even with your inexperience, the way you swallow his cock is obscene. It’s an imagery Jeongguk engraves in his memory, purposefully stored because he knows he’ll think about it whenever his desires override his logical thoughts again. You lap him up like you want this, a soft moan echoing from your throat and along his length as you move deeper, mouth plaint to his dick. He forces himself to sit still, give you the time to adjust, lick and taste to your leisure, forcing the impending wave of heat back down into his gut. He holds it there even when you move away, the sound of your wet mouth popping off his dick permeating the air.

And of course, you lick your lips afterwards, a swift swipe of your pink tongue against them, your eyes trained on his.

“Like that?” you ask.

Jeongguk’s going to die. He is. And you’ll be the reason why listed on his death certificate.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, chest tight with want. “Like that.”

You lean back in without question, mouth taking his length like you were made for it and your hand works against the parts of him you can’t reach just yet. His mind wanders as his eyes take in this sight of you, on your knees and mouth open wide just for him. Someday he’d like to see if you could truly take his length, all of it. Down your throat. Hard and fast like his hips wanted to go. But this is more than perfect. How you concentrate on blowing him like you want to see him spill himself down your throat. It’s almost adorable, the earnestness in your gaze every time your eyes flicker upwards as your mouth moves along his cock. He likes this more than he’s willing to admit, the slowness in your pace, how your tongue is shy sometimes when it laves against his tip. It’s a change from what he usually gets - and a welcome one too. A tiny part of him feels like it would be fitting to hold your hand. You’re so pretty too, especially when your lips are on him. He’d like to take care of you, see what your face looked like when his tongue was deep inside of you, know what your taste like as you moan out his name. He doesn’t even register the words as they leave his mouth, head lost in the images colouring his thoughts.

“Taking me so well, baby,” he can’t help the grunt, the pet name natural to him, “So pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

And you hum like you like it - like you like pleasing him, sinking further down until his tip bumps against the back of your throat. The zip down his spine nearly sends him spiralling.

“Baby,” he feels it then, when your eyes shift to meet his, the snap in his gut. “F-fuck, I’m gonna cum. You need to stop right now if you don’t want to down your throat.”

But you don’t, moving faster like the twitch of his dick in your mouth spurs him on, your lips firm as they wrap around him. He doesn’t hold in his moves this time, hips gently moving up to meet your mouth, the tremor running through his bulky thighs nothing but a warning before it hits him hard. A wave of heat, melting through his muscles as his eyes flutter shut, your tongue lapping him right up, no protest as he unravels down your throat. It’s over in an instant but Jeongguk feels like mush, head floating and his bones soft with how hard his back hits the mattress. You pull off his length a second later, letting him feel you swallow all of him first.

“Holy shit.” His mouth is still disconnected from his brain.

There’s a beat of silence, so awkward that Jeongguk shuffles himself back onto his elbows even though his bones feel like giving way. And then your laugh tinkles through the air, a soft gentle thing that makes his heart seize in his chest.

“That… wasn’t so bad,” you say, staring at him with an ease that spikes an urge to press his lips against yours in his heart.

“Oh,” he replies, like an idiot. “You liked it?”

“Well, it didn’t suck… pun intended. Your moans are really loud.”

Jeongguk blushes - he blushes - even after the stupid joke you made.

“Um, yeah. I do, I guess. Sorry, I kind of forgot to show you what to do. But you’re a bit of a natural, to be honest.” He abhors the diffidence in his voice.

“I guessed that,” you retort, the smile on your face hypnotic, “From your really loud moaning.”

“Can you - fuck how do you ruin any intimate moment when it happens?”

“Guess I’m a natural at that too,” you say it with a laugh, and Jeongguk can’t help the smile that tugs against his lips.

“Um,” he tries, fully aware of the front view seat you were getting of his soft dick. He sits up to try and shield it, feeling awfully exposed. “If you’d like… I could return the favour?”

“No, I’m good.” There’s zero hesitation in your voice and you’re up before Jeongguk can think of a decent excuse to keep you in his room. “Maybe another time? I’ll text you. Bye Jeongguk.”

It’s then he regrets not encouraging you to undress earlier, his assumption that this would be the worst blowjob of his life incredibly incorrect. Perhaps if your clothes were scattered around his bedroom he could have found a way to convince you into his sheets while you searched for them. But you’re fully dressed, already bounding out of his door like his dick wasn’t down your throat moments ago. He watches you go with forlornness, mouth dry with words he’s incapable of expressing at this very instance and his heart oddly warm at the sight of your skipping away with a carefreeness he admires. He still hates that you’re leaving, perhaps the only positive of this situation is that you’re using his bedroom door instead of his window.

“Bye,” Jeongguk mumbles into the vacant air. You don’t even catch it, shooting him a quick grin before you’re bounding down the stairs as if this doesn’t even matter to you. A stumble on a stepping stone to something greater. He plucks up his phone, pants still lost somewhere on the floor. Blocking Mingyu for twenty-four hours should be enough of a punishment, right?

mingyu the man [10:21pm]

bro..

you alive?

jaykay [10:26pm]

i focking hate u

u know that right?

mingyu the man [10:31pm]

you dont my g

how was it?

did she jump out the window this time?

jaykay [10:34pm]

worse

mingyu the man [10:37pm]

bro wtf wot she do??

jaykay [10:40pm]

she actually gave me head

mingyu the man [10:45pm]

????

how is that worse dude you’re just as weird as her

jaykay [10:46pm]

ITS WORSE CAUSE I LIKED IT

mingyu the man [10:51pm]

damn....

you like crazy coochie don’t you

jaykay [10:52pm]

WHAT R U EVEN

MAN FUCK

I HATE U

mingyu the man [10:53pm]

lmao u don’t i brought her into your life u lurve me

im best man for the wedding

not jaehyun

u got dat right

jaykay [10:56pm]

i hope you fall into a ditch and die

mingyu the man [10:58pm]

okay big man

you gon see her again tho?

jaykay [10:59pm]

....maybe

idk man im fucked up right now

like???

SHE JUMPED OUT THE WINDOW??

mingyu the man [11:01pm]

and u still invited her over to suck your dick again

crazy coochie got u bad bruh

jaykay [11:06pm]

FUCK U

mingyu the man [11:11pm]

mhmm if thats what u say

i have a class wid her to tomorrow

any messages u want to pass on?

hello?

[mingyu the man is blocked]

hello? jaykayyyyyy

JAYKAY

SEAGULL

damn he got it bad

[wanderinginksplot]

Hello! Um, how about Wrecker with a s/o who has severe childhood trauma, and has a hard time opening up to people other than him?

Hello! First off, thank you so much for this request! It was a good challenge. Secondly, I am so sorry this took as long as it has. I had a pretty uneventful childhood, so I ended up doing a lot of research to write this right, and then I rewrote it about a dozen times... anyway, trauma is only minimally mentioned (at least directly), but I hope you like it!

Wrecker + Traumatized Reader

How did it go today, cyare?" Wrecker asked, dropping a kiss on your cheek. He had just gotten home from a shorter mission with his squad and began stripping off his armor while he waited for your answer.

You always felt silly complaining to him. The things that troopers saw and had to deal with on a daily basis were so much worse than you saw - especially since you were permanently stationed on Coruscant. Still, from the expectant look he sent over his shoulder, Wrecker was waiting for an answer.

"Well…" you started slowly, not sure how much information he wanted, "I think it went okay? The board seemed to like the presentation. The Head Commander said the lack of internal life support in the Phase II armor is an issue they've been looking at for some time. I’m supposed to work on a follow-up. I might throw together some preliminary schematics for a Phase III armor set…"

“Sounds like it went great!” Wrecker encouraged, interrupting you before you could get too lost in your engineering thoughts. You had been known not to emerge for days once you got started. “You've been practicing this presentation forever."

You grinned at him. "Thanks again for being my test audience. I know it isn't something you're really interested in. You guys don’t even wear the Phase II."

"No, but I like listening to you talk," Wrecker told you unabashedly. 

You shook your head a bit at that. "You're such a sweetheart. How did I get so lucky?"

"There's a group of Seppies in the Guard's cells who didn't think I was sweet at all," he told you, sounding mystified. "If it wasn't for Cross, I wouldn't have gotten outta there at all."

You tensed a bit at that, and not only from the reminder of how dangerous his job could be. You knew what was coming. It was only a matter of time… 

"Have you thought any more about it?" Kriff. There it was. You wanted to snap at him, remind him that he was pushing a very firm boundary, but Wrecker sounded so hopeful…

"I- I just don't know, Wreck," you admitted miserably. "I know they're your brothers and I want to meet them, but… it's a lot."

"That's okay," Wrecker said comfortingly. He was doing his best to reassure you, but you could hear the clear note of disappointment in his voice.

Your heart plummeted to your toes. Why couldn't you do this for him? Wrecker was the best, most considerate boyfriend in the galaxy. He was willing to sacrifice himself for the safety of the galaxy, for your safety.

"Okay, let's do it," you agreed abruptly. "When do you want to have me meet them?"

"Really?" Wrecker asked, a smile like dawn warming his face.

You nodded and forced an answering smile. You weren't sure how you would handle the pressure of meeting the other members of the Bad Batch, but for Wrecker? You would figure it out.

He ran off to contact the others and your smile faded instantly. From everything Wrecker had told you, Tech was nice and Hunter was quiet, but Crosshair was rarely anything other than abrasive and rude. And that was to his brothers.

You fought a shudder. Being snipped at always reminded you of growing up - and not in a good way. Sarcastic comments were always the first step, then objective-sounding remarks, and then… You didn’t want to think about what had always come next.

But still, this was important to Wrecker, and you were determined to try.

---

The next day, you were anxiously fiddling with your sleeve as you walked to the GAR with Wrecker beside you. The height difference between you always made you feel like a child being escorted around by an adult, but Wrecker normally took your teasing complaints as the jokes that they were. 

You weren’t saying anything at all that day.

“Hey,” Wrecker said gently, grabbing your hand and stilling the fingers that were slowly unraveling your sleeve. “Are you okay?”

You blinked up at him. “What if they don’t like me?”

Wrecker made a strangled sound, like he had started to laugh but thought better of it. “Of course they’re going to like you! Why wouldn’t they like you? And even if they hated you, I like you. And I’m the important one here.”

You wanted to laugh at his exaggerated pout, but the corners of your mouth felt like they were attached to weights as you gave a tight nod and refocused on walking. Wrecker, however, wasn’t having it. Using the light grip he still had on your hands, he tugged you to a stop, forcing the rest of the foot traffic to part around his broad figure as he bent to talk to you.

“Say the word, cyare, and we’ll go home right now.”

“What? No!” you denied immediately. “I said I would meet your brothers, and I meant it. Why? Have you decided you don’t want them to meet me?”

“Of course I want you to meet them!” Wrecker told you. He brushed a hand against your face, smoothing the frown line you could feel forming between your eyebrows. “But I don’t like seeing you this way. If it’s too much, we don’t have to do this. I meant what I said: we can go home right now.”

You searched his face and found only heartwarming sincerity. He meant it. If you said you weren't up for this, he wouldn't be upset or hurt. He wouldn't sulk or find ways to punish you. Nothing would change between you. 

"I wouldn't miss it for anything," you assured him.

Wrecker was your safe space - the exact opposite of everything you had dealt with growing up. He pushed your boundaries, but he made you stronger. As you tripped through the crowd by his side, the idea soothed you more and more until you couldn't stand it.

"Wrecker, wait," you pled, pulling on his arm. 

It was a surprise he had even felt the pull, honestly, but he was so attuned to you that he stopped immediately. He looked down at you with open concern. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I love you," you blurted, and your face grew hot so quickly that you felt a little dizzy.

"You love me?" Wrecker asked, sounding stunned.

"…yeah…" you said slowly. You weren't really sure why you had needed to say it right that moment, but you knew that you meant it. Wrecker was everything to you, and it had been enough to prompt an admission of feelings that you had never thought you would be able to verbalize.

He was still staring at you and you were getting nervous. "Anyway, we should probably get to the GAR," you told him, striving for a casual tone.

"Forget the GAR! You love me!" The next thing you knew, Wrecker had lifted you up and spun in a quick circle that left you dizzy for sure this time. "I love you, too! We need to go celebrate!"

He set you down and had started down the street in the direction you had come from, dragging you along by your hand as you alternated between laughing and trying to get him to stop.

"Wreck, we can't just not show up to meet your brothers," you protested. "They're waiting for us!"

Wrecker paused, glanced back at you, and heaved a deep sigh. "Fine," he grumbled, walking back toward your original destination. "They get twenty minutes, then I need you all to myself."

The dark-eyed look he sent your way made your mouth go dry. "Fifteen minutes."

He laid a searing kiss on your lips. "Deal."

---

To your shock, the Bad Batch was less intimidating than you had thought they would be. Hunter even made an effort to talk to you.

“So, what is it you do for the GAR?” he asked, dark eyes startling in his half-tattooed face.

“I- uh, I’m an engineer,” you explained. “I helped design the updates implemented in the Phase II trooper armor. Joint Kamino-Coruscant effort and all of that. I didn’t have anything to do with commando armor, though.”

Hunter shrugged. “Still, I’ve heard good things about the Phase II. You did nice work.”

“Thanks!” you said, only slightly too loud. “There are a few things that got lost in translation due to budgetary issues. One of my ideas was to add in a new scope for the larger rifles, one that would acclimate to counter visual disruptions. Brightness, direct sunlight, reflections, and so on. It had a couple other features that were popular with the ARCs and commandos who tested it. Alpha-17 on Kamino said he was keeping his, even though it was just a prototype.”

“Wish I coulda seen that,” Crosshair muttered, his first contribution to the conversation.

“You kind of can,” you offered. “I have a few prototypes left. I brought one along in case you wanted to give me any feedback. I still have hopes for the Phase III…”

Crosshair eyed the scope you were holding out to him, face full of suspicion even as he accepted it from you. He examined it closely for several minutes, dialing in and out of various features as you watched. Eventually, he nodded and you breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Looks good,” he reluctantly praised, handing the scope back.

You didn’t take it from him. “Actually, that’s a tactical prototype. If you were interested, I would love for you to use it in the field as long as you let me know how it holds up.”

Crosshair’s eyebrows shot up and he chewed his toothpick thoughtfully as he stared at the scope. You weren’t above a little bribery, and had made a few tweaks based on Crosshair’s preferences. Granted, those preferences had been relayed by Wrecker, a man whose go-to weapon was bare hands… 

To distract yourself, you looked to Tech. He had been quiet, almost silent, for most of the meeting. From everything you had been told, that was unusual. 

“Tech, Wrecker tells me that you’ve been analyzing statistical data about your squad to maximize your effectiveness. What kind of variance are you looking at?”

Tech stared at you for a long moment. “A difficult question to answer, as the variance has increased significantly since you and Wrecker met.”

“Excuse me?” you asked politely, taken aback by his implication.

“The frequency at which Wrecker is injured has increased by roughly 2.7% since the two of you started your relationship.”

“Tech,” Hunter reprimanded sharply.

“Ease off,” Crosshair said, voice low.

You glanced at Wrecker, sitting tensely beside you. “You didn’t tell me you were getting hurt on your missions.”

“Just a little,” he admitted, glaring at Tech.

“By my calculations, this places his risk of a fatal accident at 9% and growing,” Tech finished, unbothered by Wrecker’s glare or his brothers’ words of warning. “Added to the fact that Wrecker wears less armor than a trooper of his size should, he is highly at risk.”

“What is this about your armor?” you asked Wrecker, pinching his side when he avoided looking your way.

“Hey! That hurt!” he complained, finally looking down at you.

“Not as bad as a piece of shrapnel would!” you lectured him. “As soon as we get home, I’m going to start working on a better set of armor for you. I have some leftover plates from the commando armor comparison. I can use that as a basis…”

“What about your Phase III?” Wrecker asked, a bit desperately.

“That doesn’t matter!” you snapped. “If I can’t keep you safe, none of it matters! I’m designing heavy-duty armor for you, you’ll participate in extra drills with your team until you get used to it, and I want a report on every injury, minor or not!”

“Told you,” Hunter said, sounding satisfied.

“Five credits,” Crosshair sighed.

“The deal was twenty,” Tech argued, then allowed himself a small smile. “I like them.”

“Yeah,” Hunter agreed.

Crosshair, studying his new scope, just nodded. You caught only bits of their conversation, though, since you were still semi-arguing with Wrecker.

“C’mon, let’s go back to your place,” Wrecker pled.

“So I can get started on your armor right away?” you asked. “Good idea!”

“But… you love me,” Wrecker pouted.

You softened and leaned up to plant a kiss on his lips, ignoring the scoffs and smothered chuckles from his brothers. “I do, Wrecker. I love you so much that I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt. Now let’s go.”

Wrecker sighed heavily, but clambered to his feet and waved goodbye to his brothers as he followed you out.

---

A/N - I don’t actually know if the Bad Batch wears Phase II clone trooper armor or Katarn-class commando armor, so I just went with commando armor and modified helmets.

Thanks for reading! You can see other works like it here or feel free to request something of your own!

[bobohu4eva]

Pink Lace - Final (M)

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader (feat. EXO members)

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, smut

Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banana @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt @baekswifey @bbhyun506 @lovebuginlove @bellamendoza @baekyeonoreo @bobohumyonlyboo @wooya1224 @strawbaeri-s @xiuweetbbh

Masterlist

When you woke up it was still dark. You looked over at the clock, which read 4:42am. Of course you would wake up in the middle of the night, you fell asleep around 7 already after your activities with Baekhyun, who still had an arm slung around you. You tried to fall back asleep, but it felt too warm and you had already slept for a while. Oh well. 

You attempted to remove Baekhyun's arm from your waist gently without waking him, but as soon as you were lifting the limb off of yourself he was groaning, and instead wrapped another arm around you, pulling your back flush to his chest. You were learning he could be very stubborn. 

“Baekhyun,” you whispered, “It’s too hot.” 

He sleepily mumbled something incoherent and kept his arms locked around you, at which point you knew you’d have to take matters into your own hands, so you pinched his arm. 

“Ow! What was that for?” He whined as he withdrew his arms, massaging the spot you had dug your fingers into. 

“You’re smothering me, you’re too warm.” 

Quickly Baekhyun jumped out of bed and walked across the room to flip a switch and you felt the fan above you kick on. He jumped right back into bed, and wrapped his arms back around you. 

You rolled your eyes at him but eventually cuddled back up to him as well. “You’re se needy.” 

“Hmm you like it though.” His voice was rough and low in your ear, and he turned you around to face him. 

With only a bit of moonlight peeking through the curtains it was difficult to make out his face, but eventually your eyes adjusted enough to see him looking back at you. You could see a lazy smile on his lips and his eyes looked heavy, he looked cute like this. 

“Can’t sleep? I was surprised you fell asleep so early.” 

“You wore me out.” You pouted in defense.

He grinned, of course he knew why you’d passes out so fast, but it was still amusing to him to tease you about it. “I know baby, I was tired too.” 

You turned back around to get comfortable again, and felt Baekhyun’s hands snake around your body until they were crossed over your chest, one boob in each hand. 

“Um, Baekhyun?” 

“What?” He mumbled softly in your ear. “They’re soft and warm and perfectly hand-sized. Feels nice.” 

You let out a sigh but didn’t move his hands away, to which he let out a pleased hum. Though you’d found it strange at first you slowly grew to like the feeling. It felt more comforting than sexual, and combined with the slow rise and fall of his chest against your back you were slowly drifting off again.

A few hours later Baekhyun was the one waking you up, as rays of sunlight started to peek through the blinds.

“Good morning sunshine.” You opened your eyes to see his face hovering above your own looking down at you expectantly. 

Much to his disappointment you groaned and turned around to bury your head back in the pillow. 

“Come on y/n we’ve been in bed for 12 hours, time to get up.” 

Before you could object he was scooping your naked self up from the mattress and placing you back down at the edge of the bed with him. 

“You’re so mean.” You whined as you rubbed your eyes and looked around. Baekhyun disappeared into his closet, returning with a pair of sweatpants on and one of his white button downs for you to wear, tossing it onto the bed next to you. 

He watched as you put it on and stood up. It fit you more like a dress, hitting you mid-thigh. Baekhyun could barely contain his excitement seeing you in his clothes, and immediately had to come shower your face with kisses as he told you how pretty you looked. You couldn’t help but admire the bare skin of his toned torso as well. 

Eventually the two of you made your way into his kitchen for something to eat and you finally got to take a good look at the rest of his home, and the more you looked around, the more you fell in love with the place. Although it wasn’t a particularly large space, it was filled with beautiful things that made it feel grown up and expensive. His walls were covered in unique art and all of his furniture went together perfectly. It was a massive step up from the bare one bedroom apartments with a mattress on the floor you usually got when going out with guys your age. 

You looked through Baekhyun’s pantry and offered to make pancakes for the both of you, to which he gladly agreed. 

You’d expected him to just sit and wait while you prepared the food but he insisted on staying in the kitchen and ‘helping’, which really just meant making excuses to touch you any time he could. 

It was when he grabbed your ass mid pancake-flip, causing you to nearly launch the slab of dough across the kitchen, that you turned around and placed a playful slap on his shoulder. “You really are acting like a horny teenager!”

Instead of arguing he simply wrapped his arms around your waist as you kept cooking, head resting atop of yours. “Mmmh only for you babe.” 

It went on like that until the pancakes were done, only occasionally he would slip a hand up under your (his) shirt to squeeze a boob as well.

Baekhyun couldn’t help himself, now that he’d had you and he knew he could touch you all he wanted he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Your soft skin beneath his palms just felt so good, he couldn’t get enough. 

“Baekhyun, you have to let go of me so we can eat.” You teased as he held on to you even as you grabbed both plates to bring them to the dining room. He let out a sound of displeasure but took his hands off of you and took his plate of food. 

Despite your teasing, you were growing more and more fond of this Baekhyun. His messy hair, the lazy look on his face, how cuddly he was acting, it felt so sweet and relaxed and comfortable with him like this. You couldn’t help thinking this was something you could get used to.

“This place is really nice.” You commented as you started to cut into your pile of pancakes. 

“You like it? You’re welcome here anytime.” 

You smiled at the idea of staying there more often, not only was it a beautiful home but being able to spend time with him like this felt too good to pass up. 

“Sorry for making you miss work by the way, Mia told me you wouldn’t mind.” 

“Yeah it’s alright, I’m still doing ok right now anyway and I can just go back next weekend.” 

You noticed his face shift to something different and he swallowed, no longer smiling. He was worried you would say something like that. “Do you remember what I asked you at the club the weekend before the semester started?” He was looking down at the table now. He looked scared. 

“What do you mean?” 

He was scared. The idea of you going back to work bothered him, a lot, he couldn’t deny it, but he knew you wouldn’t take kindly to him telling you not to go. What had happened two weeks earlier was still fresh in his mind and the thought of you being around men like that again made him feel sick. He felt like he had to at least bring it up. 

“I don’t want this to sound rushed, but I really like you a lot, and I, um... You don’t have to go back. If you don’t want to, that is, I can take care of things.”

“Baekhyun...” 

“I really meant it when I said I could take care of you, if that’s what you want, I just can’t stand the though of something bad happening to you there again.” His voice got smaller and smaller as he spoke, until it was barely a whisper. 

You paused for a while to think before speaking again. “Do you not want me to go back?” 

You had been wondering if this was coming, but you didn’t expect it so soon, and as much as you did like Baekhyun, becoming completely dependent on him still scared you. 

Your eyes met from across the table and you could see how anxious he was as he slowly shook his head in response. “We don’t need to go there to see each other anymore, and the idea of you being alone there isn’t something I like to think about. I know I can’t tell you what to do, but please, if you do, be careful.” 

“So, what exactly are you thinking then?” 

“You could stop working and I could help financially whenever you want, and you would be my girlfriend.” 

Admittedly you did feel your heart flutter at the word girlfriend but you were still bothered by his offer to keep giving you money. 

“Wouldn’t you basically be my sugar daddy then?” 

His face turned into a deep frown. “I’m not just paying you to have sex with me, you know you mean more to me than that.” The look of genuine hurt on his face quickly had you regretting your words. You felt like you had just kicked a puppy. In the back of your mind though, you still didn’t want him to give you money, even if he expected nothing in return. 

“I know, I’m sorry, I just don’t want to take more of your money. I don’t want you to feel like you have to pay to be with me.”

He took both of your hands from across the table and held them in his own, his eyes looking into yours intently. “The whole reason I don’t mind spending spending money on you is because I know you don’t expect me to. I know you’re not here for that, which makes me want to spoil you even more.”

“I’m just scared that if something happens and you decide you don’t want me anymore I won’t be able to repay you.” The words came out of you in what was hardly even a whisper. You knew the words would hurt him, that he wouldn’t like hearing your doubts after having just had such a magical time together. It felt like you were about to ruin everything if you weren’t careful with your words, but you had to be honest about your concerns. 

“You don’t honestly think I would ever ask you to pay me back...” The way his expression tuned sadder and more desperate with every word you spoke killed your appetite and had your heart feeling like it was stuck in your throat. He squeezed your hands to make you look back up at him before continuing. “I haven’t felt the way I feel about you in a very long time, I didn’t think it was possible for me to be this into someone at all anymore. Please believe me when I say I’m not going to disappear. Even if I lose my job because of this, I’ll stay by your side until you decide you don’t want me in your life anymore. I haven’t wanted anything this badly in years, y/n, please I, I-.”

He cut himself off before he could get it out. As much as he wanted to say it, he knew now wasn’t the right time. 

The way he was staring back at you, still tightly gripping your hands was enough to make you feel like you were about to cry from pure guilt. Seeing him look at you like this was heartbreaking. The idea of being his was everything you could ever ask for, to get to be with him the way you had been the last 16 hours and to get to enjoy his company and his touches whenever you wanted. It felt like a dream. You did want it, to be with him like this, and although it scared you to put so much trust in him so quickly, it was impossible for you to look him in the eyes and deny it to him when you knew he was being truthful. 

“Okay.” It came out so quietly you first thought he didn’t hear you, but his face told you that he did. “I won’t go back.”

His face lit up immediately and he grinned back at you widely. “I promise you won’t regret it. I’ll do everything I can to make you the happiest girl alive.” 

“But Baekhyun-” You paused when you saw his smile quickly fade. “Only what I need. I don’t want you to give me anything more, or I’ll feel guilty.” 

“What about gifts? If I see something I think you would like could I give it to you as a present?” 

You rolled your eyes, “I guess, as long it’s nothing too crazy.”

Both of you paused, and he swallowed. “Can I ask why you’re having such a hard time trusting me? You know I’ve never lied to you.”

It was true. You really had no reason not to trust him with how open and honest he was. Never once did any of his words or actions towards you feel disingenuous.  

You sighed. It wasn’t something you liked to think back on. “The last time I had a real boyfriend was over a year ago. He seemed so charming and kind and perfect. I let him in too quickly and was head over heels in love when about 6 months in I found out he’d been going to parties and sleeping with other people the entire time.” 

“And the two of you were exclusive?” You could only nod. It felt shameful. The fact that you’d been so easily strung along by the man when he was obviously just a charming fuckboy at the end of the day. “What an asshole.” 

You shrugged. “It is what it is I guess.” 

“He was an idiot to not see what I see in you. Any man should be thrilled to have someone as wonderful and as beautiful as you. He’s missing out.” Heat spread through your cheeks and a smile forced its way onto your lips despite you trying to fight it. “I can’t say I’m upset it didn’t work out, because now I get to have you here, but you also just deserve so much better than that. I promise you you’re the only one that I want. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

Eventually you let the warmth of his sweet words win you over and you stopped holding back your grin. “I know.” 

The smile returned to his face and he stood up and rounded the dining room table to pull you up as well, and into a kiss. This was the sweetest, most romantic one yet, as he cupped your face and let his lips melt into yours. 

“So... does this mean you’re my boyfriend now? You asked as you pulled away and rested your forehead against his. 

“If you want me to be, then yes.” 

You quickly nodded and before you knew it you were being swept off your feet as he picked you up bridal style and carried you to the couch in the living room. He laid you down and found his place back on top of you, kissing every inch of your face as you giggled and gently pushed at his chest. 

He leaned back to look down at you in his shirt, hair disheveled, with a pink tint to your cheeks. “I can’t believe after all this time, you’re really mine now.” 

With a surge of blind confidence you sat up and positioned yourself on his lap, straddling him. You looked into his surprised eyes before cupping his face and bringing it to yours, as if to confirm his statement. 

“All yours.” You whispered after placing a soft kiss to his lips. 

He shuddered beneath you and you felt his arms wrap around you and pull your chest flush to his. “I’ve dreamt of you saying those words to me so many times, you have no idea.” 

You were becoming more and more aware of your lack of underwear as Baekhyun shifted you over his lap again, and this time you felt his hardness against you with the only thing separating you being the fabric of his sweats. 

You inhaled sharply at the sudden feeling, before teasing him, “Is emotional intimacy turning you on?” 

“Everything turns me on when it’s you.” He smiled back at you lazily before bringing his hands up to the collar of your (his) shirt and beginning to unbutton it. “As much as I love my clothes on you I think you look even more beautiful wearing nothing at all.” 

He was really, truly, obsessed with your body. In the best kind of way. You were like a piece of precious art to him. The pink tint that moved across your chest, the curves, the softness, the way your skin felt beneath his hands was just perfect. He needed to feel and to memorize every inch of you. 

“Can I fuck you, princess?” 

“Since you asked so nicely.” You giggled, making fun of his words from the night prior. 

He returned a dopey, blissed-out smile and his hands kept working on the buttons until he was taking it off of you completely, once again leaving you naked. His eyes scanned your body as one hand slowly made its way from your neck, down to your breasts, along the side of your waist and then finally between your legs.

“You make fun of me for being hard when you’re this wet?”

You let out a small yelp as two of his slender fingers entered you, curling against just the right spot that would have you losing your mind. 

“Thought you said you wanted to fuck me.” You taunted impatiently, slipping a hand down to pull him out of his sweats.  

As you wrapped you hand around him you felt his breath get stuck in his throat and the movement of his fingers inside you came to a halt before they left you completely. 

“If you want it so bad then go ahead.” 

He was right, there was nothing stopping you, so you lined him up with your entrance and sank down until he was fully inside you, hitting even deeper than before. His head hit the back of the couch and you couldn’t help but admire his parted lips and the slight knit in his eyebrows at the feel of you wrapped around him. 

“So tight and wet, so perfect, like you were made for me.” 

He soon had his hands on your ass and guided your motions, rolling your body against his. With every push of your hips against his own you let out small whimpers which grew louder and louder as he started to pick up the pace, bouncing you on top of him as he thrusted up into you.  

When he leaned forward to take a nipple between his lips you knew you were done for, and seconds later you were shuddering around him as the tension in your body was released causing you to cry out his name, and you were grateful that he lived alone. 

His movements didn’t stop even once your high wore off, and you found yourself grasping onto him tighter than before as oversensitivity took over. It felt like too much but you could tell by the way he was shaking beneath you and the movement of his hips was becoming inconsistent that he was close. 

Just before he stilled inside you he brought his lips to yours for a messy, heated kiss before releasing inside of you as he groaned into your mouth. His hands were gripping your hips so tightly, holding you so firmly against his that you knew it would bruise, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care when you felt this good.

Once both of you stopped shaking and your breathing evened out you rested your head on Baekhyun’s shoulder and let your hands rest on the smooth, warm skin of his bare chest. His hands moved from your ass up to wrap around your back, holding you against him. You felt him softening inside you but you couldn’t bring yourself to get up, feeling too weak and warm and cozy on his lap to want to move at all. 

“You feel like heaven. We should stay like this all day.” He hummed blissfully into your neck. 

You chucked at his words but didn’t move either. “Baekhyun?” 

“Yes darling?”

“Do you love me?” 

The words left your mouth before you could think about it too hard. You just felt it. It felt the love in his words and actions towards you. You needed to know. 

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

You sat up to look him in the eyes. “You love me?”

“I love you, y/n. Do you love me?” 

“I’m learning to very quickly.”

“I’ve been told I’m a very good teacher.” He grinned. 

When you brought your lips back down to his you felt it. The feeling bubbling deep inside of you. It wasn’t quite there yet, but you knew you would get there soon. It was only a matter of time until you were just as head over heels for him as he was for you. You were falling fast. 

As the two of you spent the rest of the day wrapped around, pressed against, and cuddled up to one another, you knew that this was exactly where you were supposed to be. 

He was your person, and you were his, and you couldn’t wait to take on so much more together for years to come. 

~The End~

Epilogue

A/N: AHHH it’s over, I finished my first ever fic. I really never thought more than like 10 people would read it so I’m seriously so grateful for all the positive feedback, it’s so much more than I ever expected. I can’t wait to start the next one!