I Will Be One Of These Publications Someday

Hey,

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

Close Call

Hannibal Lecter X Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hannibal loved you for this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Respectably, of course.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Dinnertime."

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

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

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

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

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

Your husband then smiled at you and raised his glass.

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He finally spoke up.

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

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

"Whatever do you mean?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You belong to me."

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

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

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

"Good. Now take it."

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

And you loved it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

When you both survive to 1987, and your boyfriend takes you to see the hottest new rock act in town. Then feels jealous because his other half is crushing on the guitarist HARD.

‘That better be a packet of lifesavers in your pocket, Munson.’

‘I admit nothing.’

he fluffy (cr. dwellingsouls)

Hannibal

Macabre:

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

Macabre (Part Two)

(Romance/Horror)

Close Call:

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

(Romance /Horror)

Nigel Banyai X Will Graham:

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

In progress!

(Angst/Fluff/Horror)

Atonement

SEO MOON-JO X READER

When the world falls apart, you have him by your side, loving and caring for you every step of the way. Accidentally stumbling upon his most sinful line of work, you wonder how much you really know about the dentist you fell in love with.

The cold and dreary night sky looked overhead and the moon cast a shimmery glow onto the pavement in front of Eden Residence. The flowerbeds that seemed to be teeming with life at one point in time were now filled with weeds and miscellaneous cans and bottles. The sidewalk was perfect on the way up to the residence, however as soon as you stepped foot in the vicinity of your new boyfriend's place, you noticed how broken and jagged the cement was. Overall, you had expected a bit more from the dentist, but you weren't going to be the one to judge. Moon-jo wasn't close to anyone really, so when he'd offered to take you on a date the first couple of times, you were excited and surprised to say the least. You knew he had secrets (everyone does), but little did you know the secret he kept from the world.

Smiling, you see the familiar figure standing outside the entryway, smoking a cigarette. Moon-jo was wearing a black turtleneck and grey dress pants with a black leather jacket on top. His hair had been gelled down previously to his arrival but was now strewn about his face and ears; it was disheveled in the "I may have just got out of bed but I'm still sexy" type look. He had a piercing in one ear that was just barely visible from his curly black locks of hair and upon seeing your face, his expression changed from daunting to pleasant. Even his demeanor changed as he stood up just a bit straighter and positioned his hands behind his back, a stance that you were familiar with when he welcomed you to the clinic.

"Why hello there." You said with a knowing glance, making it obvious that you were checking him out. He didn't seem to mind though, in fact, he looked expectant of it. His eyes shifted downwards from yours to your lips and then to your outfit, never staying in one place for too long. How he was so good at undressing you with his eyes, you didn't know. All you knew was that you wanted him to do it again and again.

"Hello." He said in his soft deep voice. He smelled of Dolce and Gabbana or something similar in exquisiteness, with a faint familiar touch of... bleach?

"You look sexy as hell." You said, just itching to voice what was on your mind. It wasn't fair for him to be so taunting with his angled features and impeccable style.

"Wow. I thought I would've had to put in a bit more effort before you offered to sleep with me." He laughed and snaked an arm around your waist, leading you up the stairs. You smiled up at him and wondered how you found such a godlike person. From the way he walked to the way he acted, everything seemed so meticulous and beautiful, almost as if he was never truly from this realm. You were in awe of Moon-jo in every way, and you scared yourself with the thoughts of what you would let him do to you...

Up at the landing, he removed his arm from your body and pushed open the door to reveal the apartments on the floor which he resided. It was dark and dreary and had the faintest smell of mold and cleaning chemicals; you wondered if that's where you picked up the bleach smell from. The walls were a dark green which made it even darker and the walls were so close together that it felt suffocating trying to navigate your way around the building. There was not a decoration in sight, not a plant, not any of the other tenets. The silence was so deafening that your ears started to ring.

Opening up the door to his room, Moon-jo looked on the shelf above him for the car keys he needed to take the two of you on a proper date. He had offered to give you a ride to the new restaurant that had just opened, and you agreed even when he said you two would need to stop at his place for the keys.

"Where are they.....?" He asked himself as he shuffled about the shelves, looking for the familiar shape of the keys. You started to feel somewhat sick the longer you stayed in the building, the walls and the lighting started to take a toll on you. It was disorienting and uncomfortable and for a moment you thought back to the possibility of parallel universe liminal spaces, since the place reminded you of it so much. Clutching your purse closer to your body, you hold the cool chain around your neck to get some feeling back into your nerves.

"Hey, baby are you okay?" You hear him ask on the opposite end of the room.

"Yeah, yeah. I just need some air." You lied, trying to look at the floor to appease your stomach. Your shoes even felt tight.

"You can go wait for me in the kitchen, if you'd like. It's a bit more open in there. Down the hall to the left." He said, shrugging his shoulders and continuing to look through the cabinets. How he lost something in such a small place, you had no idea. But, you took him up on the offer of leaving the room and you made your way to the brightest but dreariest kitchen you've ever seen in your life. The wallpaper was ripping off the walls and dishes were piled into the sink as if their intended use were to sit and collect dust. Sitting down on one of the dining chairs, you place your head in your hands and take deep breaths as you try to steady yourself. What was wrong with you? Why did you feel so sick all of a sudden?

"I think I might've left them on the fourth floor." You heard the familiar voice resounding from behind you. Moon-jo knelt down beside you, placing his hands onto yours and removing them from your face. His expression was one of genuine worry and you felt bad for him for having to deal with you when you were like this. He offered you a slight smile as he tried to read your expression; his fingers brushing away at the hair that had fallen into your face. "Are you alright?"

"I guess I'm just claustrophobic or something. I'm sorry, I'm not usually like this it's just that this place-"

"-Feels like a cage." He said, completing your sentence. His gaze turned into a dark one but you had no idea why he was so bothered by the thought. It was reassuring to hear that he felt the same way about Eden Residence that you did.

"Yeah," you said, "something like that."

...

Walking up towards the fourth floor, you were relieved to catch your breath and to breathe in the night sky. The ascent to the floor above meant climbing one flight of stairs and trying not to step on any broken glass. This place that Moon-jo lived in made you nervous for him as it didn't seem all that safe. You wondered if the rest of the tenets were a bit strange.

The big heavy door to the women's area of the building looked even older than everything else. There were charred marks on the door (you didn't know what from) and the way it was tucked neatly into the corner all by itself shrouded it in an eerie darkness. The sign was chipping away and soon enough any evidence of there ever being any humanity living behind the door would be gone forever, like dust in the wind.

"Why were you on the women's floor?" You asked, slightly accusatory. You and Moon-jo had only been together for two weeks, but you still felt hurt to know that he could be around other people that sparked his interest.

"I was working." He said, revealing a hallway even darker than the one from downstairs. "I have a side hustle of..... sorts."

Walking into the room, the sensation of being trapped filled your senses once again. The walls had the same charred marks as the doorway and the floor was scuffed and dirty. "What happened in here?" You asked, noticing how it looked as though someone had set the place aflame.

"It burned down shortly after Eden Residence was built," Moon-jo held your hand, walking towards the end of the hallway slowly, "Everyone died except for the old lady's cat. Sometimes you can still hear it up here, moving about and scratching the walls."

The hallway ended and the two of you were in a room so isolated from the rest of the building that you felt a knot in your stomach. This was the type of nerve-wracking that people on Criminal Minds talk about before they're brutally murdered, and you finally understood now why Moon-jo had insisted that you stop at the Residence to grab his car keys. He was trying to get you alone and vulnerable and you didn't think it was for sexual related reasons.

You slowly stepped back from the middle of the room as Moon-jo grabbed something off one of the wooden planks on the floor. "Here they are. Would you look at that?" He said, turning to you with a wicked malicious grin. In his hands were the keys, pristine and clean as he liked the rest of his belongings. That's what drew him into you, the fact that you seemed so pure and innocent. Something he could make an absolute mess of. Dirty hands on a white towel. Satan holding a sacred dove. You were his most precious belonging.

"Moon-jo? I think I'm going to call it a night. I'm still not feeling all that well." You let out a slight whimper, trying to feel around for the door you just came through. Instead, your back hit the wall and you were met with Moon-jo's face just inches from your own. He wrapped his arms around you and forced you into his embrace, not caring whether or not you wanted to be touched at the moment. The truth was going to come out tonight and he knew you would take it well. You would have to take it well. And if you didn't, he would make sure you felt too threatened to leave him either way.

"You're not going anywhere, love." He pushed his nose into the crook of your neck and allowed for his face to rest there, listening to the rapid pace of your heartbeat and taking in the scent of your perfume. It was intoxicating to him knowing that your life belonged to him and he could end it at any moment. He could, but he wouldn't. He wouldn't ever lay a finger on you in the way he killed so many others. You were different. You spoke to his soul and made him feel something after years of searching for something to fill the empty space within his chest.

Your entire body froze as Moon-jo held you there, calmly breathing into your skin. You wanted to run away but you had no idea how you would be able to leave without him following you. He knew where you lived and you worked within the same office. Rejecting Moon-jo would be impossible.

Finally, he turned to look at you as he continued to hold you close to his chest. "I'm a killer, (Y/N). You were going to be my next target but I think I accidentally fell in love with you."

Your heart plummeted to your stomach. There's no way he was telling you the truth. This had to have been a lie, the antisocial doctor whom you had gotten to know was quiet and poised. A killer wasn't even an option in your mind as to what he could've occupied himself with outside of his work. And that's when it hit you: the dead bodies that had been found all over Gyeonggi-do with missing teeth.

To confirm your suspicion, you noticed a dentist's chair in the corner of the room, the white upholstery now stained with colors you did not want to familiarize yourself with. Next to it laid a table with various tools, all clean and polished.

"I kill them. And then I eat them after I take their teeth."

That's when you fainted.

...

Waking up in Moon-jo's room, you look up at the ceiling overhead. It was cracked and crumbling and visibly painted over layers and layers of ruin. The window closest to the top of the room let in just enough light that you were able to barely make out your surroundings...and the person who shared the bed with you.

Moon-jo looked so innocent while he slept. His head was resting on the bed (he had given you his pillow) and his hair was a mess as he nuzzled deeper into the sheets. His arms were around you still and you noticed how hard it was for you to move in his intense grasp. His face was completely calm and his skin glowed in the soft light above. You didn't know when you had passed out or how you had gotten into his bed, but you assumed he had taken you here after your vision went blurry. In other circumstances, you would have found him to be cute in the position he was in, but instead your stomach was filled with worry. What did he mean by killing? Why was he sparing you? What did he mean by loving you?

Even with the nervousness bubbling up inside of you, you still found yourself glued to your spot, not even because Moon-jo was holding onto you so tightly. You knew that you wouldn't have left even if he allowed it, so instead you nuzzled up closer to his chest which awoke him softly.

"You're awake?" He asked in a deep soft voice, holding you even tighter in case you decided to make a run for it. He seemed confused as to why you were still okay with being near him and why you hadn't tried to escape while he was vulnerable.

"Yeah." You said after a moment of silence.

Moon-jo noticed your slight distress and watched you conflict in your head the possibilities of loving him and leaving him. He watched your eyes and saw behind them that you were trying to keep your morals, noticing it became harder and harder as you leaned into his touch, giving into him completely.

"(Y/N), because I love you, I'm letting you leave if you decide not to be here anymore." He felt his chest tighten as the words left his mouth, knowing that he was being entirely honest with you and dishonest with himself. He didn't want you to leave his arms.

"Moon-jo, I'm not going to leave you." You said, looking up at him from the pillow. He looked beautiful in the soft light.

"Why not?" He asked, certain that you were going to make a run for it.

"Because I think I love you too much to do that."

Ever So Slightly.

Steve Harrington X Reader

⚠️ Warnings: this one is very PG-13 with a bit of angst ⚠️

Harrington fondly thinks back to his car... And your lips.

His BMW 733i was parked outside of Hawkins Highschool, the soft screeching of tires as he put his foot on the brake and eased it into a parking space. There wasn't a soul for miles, the only brightness coming from the singular streetlight in the middle of the lot, shining down on the two students who had made their way to the familiar building after hours. Both windows rolled up halfway and feet placed on the dash. The night was calm and quiet with the exception of cicadas chirping their songs and filling the void with something other than the nothingness of the quiet town. Stars shone overhead and created patterns of light across the sky, however, not enough for illumination of any sort. Just darkness for miles.

He looked so lovely. His eyes glanced up and down over your frame but not in a way other than pure and utter admiration. He felt just as calm as the world around him, not feeling a care in the world at what everyone else had gotten up to tonight. The party at Tommy Hagan's house that he had been expected to show up at. The Dungeons and Dragons campaign at the Wheeler's. The movie showing at the theatre in town. None of it mattered. The only thing that he could care about in this moment was your soft touch on his arm or the delicate breaths you took as you explored every inch of his mouth further. Your hands gliding up his face and fingers intertwining in his hair. The content state of your heartbeat pulsating calmly and the way your shirt felt under the palms of Steve's hands. Everything about you was so perfect, so- meticulous- that Steve assumed the universe placed you in Hawkins for the sole purpose of being his.

Cherry chapstick colliding with the taste of Steve's last cigarette, you had to say you felt the same. His manly but beautiful frame beneath you digging deeper into the seat with every kiss placed with intention and passion. Your hands running over the top of his jeans and hooking into the belt loops. He was your solace, your brain suddenly blank from all the intrusive and desolate thoughts from earlier. His lips guiding you to the freedom from pain and offering you a home to wander into; a blanket and a a cup of warm tea at the entryway of peace.

His hair felt so soft under the callouses of your fingers and the strands ran through like silk, slipping away from your grasp only for you to collide with them again. A slight pull of his hair left Steve in a state of frustration as he wanted to melt further into you and not to be pulled away. This longing wasn't a sexual one but more of a sensual one; wanting to envelop himself within you as close as humanly possible, wanting to flow through your veins and seep through your chest until the two of you were one. Pulling you back in, his cheeks are flushed and soft noise of fondness escapes your lips as you allowed him to know how he was making you feel.

"Hey," you said, breaking the quiet. It seemed forbidden to speak with how serene everything was even though your voice was just barely above a whisper. Steve looked down at you in confusion with furrowed brows, wondering what you were going to say. "We should put on some music or something."

Steve smiled. Of course you wanted music. It was your favorite thing in the entire world and he was pretty sure that he was a close second. Reaching around your frame to turn on the stereo, he shifts through the channels until he finds something suitable. A dark and low synth song starts to play through his speakers, perfecting the aesthetic of the night.

"This okay?" He asks, turning back to you and seeing your eyes light up.

"Absolutely."

.

Walking through the hallway on the last day of school was tiresome. Seeing all of the places that held memories that were good and bad filled your vision and your mind as you truly realized this was the last time you would be here. The green and orange tiles and the posters with tigers on them seemed to mock you as you continued your path towards the rows and rows of lockers for clean-out day.

Your shoes scuffed against the floor as you lost yourself in thought. Nothing would ever be the same again. Sure, it was a new chapter in your life but part of you would miss this old one. Riding around the block with your friends and singing your favorite songs. Staying up late drinking and coming into school high the next day. Sharing pencils with the weird kids in class who insisted they draw all over your notebook which you didn't mind. You felt like a collection of different thoughts and times just like the drawings that filled those pages.

Turning the corner you thought back to everyone you've met. The good and the bad and the in-between which was reserved for one person in particular- Steve Harrington himself. Leaning against one of the lockers wearing a dark yellow sweater and blue jeans looking as ethereal as ever. His hair had grown quite a bit from the last time you'd seen him and it made you laugh at the memory of how much Farrah Faucet hairspray he would put in it. Now, it was unkempt and a bit ridiculous.

His gaze went to yours and he faltered ever so slightly. You were still beautiful. Still you. Headphones dangling around your neck and a baggy shirt. Your lips were still stained with that cherry chapstick he'd tasted so many times before Nancy's strawberry one. You seemed quite surprised to see him after so long and you offered up a slight smile. He didn't know what you were thinking in that moment, but he was sure it was the night you two spent in the car, hiding away from the rest of the world.

He remembered when it was the two of you against the world before the mess of the Upside Down. Before the world became more than basketball games and parties. Before the world went crazy. Before he fell in love with someone else.

He felt a slight pang in his chest from how much he had loved you long ago. And to his surprise he smiled back at you. Ever so slightly.

Bitch Onions

TASM Peter Parker X Reader

⚠️Warnings: swearing, absolute crack⚠️

Sitting on the rooftop, you look up at the vast sky ahead of you. Your eyes making out the shapes within the clouds and your heart beating slow and steady, as calm as you could be. Things were perfect this high up, the sunset making the entire world a luminescent orange and sparkling off the glass of the city buildings below. The cars honking and the various shouts of the people below.

You were on top of the Empire State building. And next to you, was the infamous Spiderman.

Said superhero was currently devouring a chili dog.

"Could you chew quieter? I'm trying to meditate," you said, pushing your loose strands of hair away from your face and fixing the sweater adorning your shoulders. You squinted at him through warning eyes and then laid down in a similar position as before. Before you could get too comfortable, Peter slides down next to you and continues to annoy you by chewing in your ear.

"Is this any better?" He asks with a knowing grin.

"You're such an asshole." You laugh, and swat the chili dog out of his hands. It was only supposed to fall but you forgot about the fact you were up so high, and, well. Physics.

"NO!" Peter yells as he watches his delicious meal fall off the roof and down to the city below. Before you could say 'what the fuck are you doing?' he jumps off the roof after it.

"Peter?"

His image is going, going, gone. Just as you thought that you had gotten left up there, he resurfaces with his web shooters and the food in his hand.

"You made the onions fall off."

Glimpse of Us

Steve Harrington X Eddie Munson

⚠️ Warnings: this whole thing is just painful ⚠️

"You fill my lungs with sweetness, and you fill my head with you..."

The unfamiliar song started to play softly through the speakers of Steve Harrington's car, leaving him with a feeling of dread and sorrow. It was a foggy afternoon and the trees surrounding the town of Hawkins were tall and provided shade from the very little sun that poked through the clouds. It was darker than usual, a reflection of how Steve felt inside. The soft smell of petrichor filled his senses as he rolled the window down in an attempt to catch the air as he drove by. He was by himself today. No Henderson from the backseat to shout and cheer at the latest adventure they had. No Robin in the passenger side fixing her mascara and droning on about her love of Vickie. No one but the crisp cool air and soft rain starting to fall from the sky, so soft one might miss it if they weren't actively feeling rainy inside. Steve tousled his hair and wiped at his face as he continued down the path to the familiar clearing in the woods; somewhere he would be completely isolated and alone.

Pulling up alongside the road, he put his car in park and slumped against the wheel. His head hurt from the night before as he had stayed up later than normal, drinking an endless amount of coffee to get him through work and then through home. His cardigan felt heavier than usual as he wrapped it around himself quickly, trying to trap in any warmth before turning off the car and walking outside.

The King of Hawkins High now had a slight limp in his walk ever since the battle for his home. His hair was starting to lighten up at the roots and he had lost a couple pounds. Chiseled jawline and sad eyes completed the forlorn look he now wore with contemptness. Vecna was a thing of the past, but the pain the monster left him was far greater than anything that could truly heal over time. Today was full of nostalgia for him so he decided to release his emotions in the only way he knew how to; talking to Eddie.

The trees eventually opened up into the bright and beautiful field he had known all too well; the grassy meadow was a bright yellow in contrast to the darkness of the rest of the world which Steve figured was his friend's doing. Such a happy corner of the universe but such a sad day it held within its corners. 1986.

Eddie looked lovely today. The birds were flying overhead in intricate but beautiful patterns in the sky, keeping a watchful eye on everything happening down below. They paid no mind to Steve as he frequented this place often. Besides from Dustin, he was the only other human to walk this place with the knowledge of what it truly meant. Visions of Eddie running around with Dustin himself, bright eyed and beaming grins as they pranced about the meadow with their makeshift swords and shields. Robin and Steve had sat alongside the outside as they shaped spears using what they had gathered. Erica and Lucas fighting over the binoculars as they playfully expressed that they cared for each other. The last time when things were truly perfect, Steve thought to himself as he sunk to his knees by the site where Eddie rested now.

"Eddie Munson. The Hero of Hawkins."

The inscription was clear even though the rest of the grave had been worn away after quite some time. It was small so it would've been glanced over if you weren't on the lookout for the home of the Hellfire Club leader. There were a few sprouts of miscellaneous plants growing out from some of the sides and around the lot. The dead rose from the last time Steve came to visit laid atop, waiting to be replaced with another flower. He fished into his cardigan and pulled out another rose similar to the other one, although this one was very much alive. The petals were vibrant and dewey, matching the surroundings of the meadow and the sky overhead.

"Hey Eddie." Steve said, getting comfortable on the ground and fiddling with the grass. "It's been a while."

"Nancy and I will have to visit with the kids someday soon." He began, working towards trying to have the confidence speaking out in the open like this. A faint smile appeared on his face as he said his next lines.

"The meadow looks beautiful as ever, Eddie. I can see all the work you've put into it. Your aura was always a contagious one."

Steve swallowed back a tear as he ran his fingers over the inscription he had paid for himself. Eddie would always be known as the hero, even if it was only to a few people who resided in Indiana. Funny how your world can be comprised of a few science kids and a couple college friends. Or how it used to be, anyways. Before everyone grew up.

"We named our oldest after you. Ironically, he's very into Metallica. You would be so proud of your namesake." Steve said, feeling proud for a moment at the mention of his son. Him and Nancy had gotten married in the summer of '99. She had worn a plain and simple wedding dress but she looked beautiful as ever in it, hair pinned to the top of her head and a pearl necklace around her neck. Her smile had beamed so brightly that day and Steve felt like the luckiest man in the world.

"Robin apparently still visits Hawkins from time to time. She moved to Washington not long after everything went down in Hawkins. She said she couldn't take it anymore. We had a party for her and then she left the next day. I haven't heard from her since." The mention of his best friend made him crinkle his nose in fondness, remembering the night they spent drugged in the bathroom of the Starcourt Mall and her coming out to him as a lesbian.

"I know Henderson comes to see you with his family sometimes. He's almost always over at our place. He keeps me updated on everything happening in his household. Turns out, he's a great babysitter too. He tells Eddie all about you and about how great you were."

"Lucas became a professional basketball player for the Indiana Pacers. He's quite good, it turns out that he's found his people and his talent. He and Max still have some unfinished business, but as far as I know she lives alone after her mother passed not too long ago. She's doing better now since she woke up from that coma, volunteering at the local hospital. She went back to college to get a degree in nursing."

Steve tried his best to explain everything he knew. Eddie was the glue that seemed to hold their group together. After his passing, everyone went their separate ways and Steve felt very isolated. He missed his kids and the way it used to be sometimes, especially on days like today. But the same part of him that yearned for their reunion was the same part of him that was ever so pleased they all ended up okay. He couldn't be anything but proud of them after they all worked so hard to get where they were.

"The Byers still live in Lenora. Hopper went with them and he got married to Joyce. Jonathan went off with Argyle and started their own clothing line. It's pretty ridiculous, but I've heard that they're making a ton of money from it. Eleven is still with Mike. They visit us sometimes too when they can. They're still distraught over Joyce and her death not long after they had gotten married themselves. Nance and I went up to see them and it was almost as if the whole gang was back together. You would've loved it!"

Steve was laughing now as he explained their wedding even further. It was a shame that Joyce had contracted an illness but she didn't go down without a fight. Hopper visits her grave all the time when he's not too busy working for the post office. He still takes care of Eleven and adopted her the moment he was able to.

"Will is working as a librarian and he got married but that's about all I know. He's the one kiddo that hardly keeps in contact anymore. I heard he's a published author, but I don't know the titles of any of his works."

Steve stopped his rambling and stared down at the plants poking out from the grave. It was refreshing to see some new flowers popping up here and there, a contrast from the yellowing of the meadow grass. It was now starting to rain harder and he could feel the water droplets hitting his head, almost like the ticking of a clock telling him that his time with Eddie was almost up. He composed himself from his slight moment of fondness and looked down at the shining stone beneath his feet.

"Eddie." He said, moving towards the top of the gravestone and petting it in the same way he used to pet his long curly brown hair that was always mischievously framing his face and flying about. Eddie would smoke cigarettes while Steve played with it as he laid on top of his friend and played some of his Corroded Coffin guitar solos. His smile would light up Steve's entire room as the eccentric metalhead boy would sit on the end of the bed and laugh with him about their music tastes and the typical drama of the day. Eddie's Hellfire notebook would be sprawled out on the floor as he placed back and forth while he talked about what was to be expected from their next campaign while Steve listened intently. He would tilt his head if Steve had any ideas to offer and would jump up and down if something he had said would be added to the exciting fun of DND. Munson would run around in Steve's bomber jacket when it was cold. He would hold his hands when he wanted him to know something important so that he would have Steve's undivided attention. Eddie would prance around the field with Black Sabbath blasting through his Walkman. He would yell up at the night sky and ask for the universe to lift the curse that held him to Hawkins.

"I never stopped loving you." Steve admitted. Before he headed back towards the warmth of his car, he took off his cardigan and placed it atop Eddie's final resting place and smiled. "So you don't get cold, is all." He said.

Steve didn't believe in God or any particular religion, but he knew that somewhere somehow, Eddie heard every word.

1.) I have been given the title of Ven Gogh from my bestie and then occasionally I'm hit with Darwin.

2.) Brown/horribly dyed black with box dye. I've had every color just to settle on black and it's kinda anticlimactic after my last attempt at being blue.

3.) Blue but like the Harry Styles fanfiction kind.

4.) 5'8 :)

5.) Three, sadly. They all live to annoy me.

6.) I have six cats!! Getting my seventh next week 😭

7.) Yellow tehehe (I'm a Hufflepuff)

8.) 11

9.) Okapi! It's a mix between a zebra and a horse and they're like a failed attempt at breeding a unicorn.

10.) The inevitable death that will one day consume us all. That or the fact that our planet is going to go hurtling into the sun and we're all going to slowly burn alive and the planet is going to set itself on fire. Oh, and ladybugs.

11.) I really like Othello!! I'm old, I know.

12.) Pansexual. I have too much love contained to be forced to share it with only one gender.

13.) I don't even know myself 😻 I like to fall somewhere between man, woman, and intergalactic space alien.

14.) English. I use the stuff I learn in there for my fanfics. For example, parallel structure. I also have a hot English teacher. Don't tell her I said that.

15.) Just my ears, but I hope to have my septum soon. I'm not opposed to decking myself out in piercings, I think they're the coolest.

16.) Not yet, but I will be getting one on my wrist hopefully in the near future! I want to get a meaningful one and then cover the rest of my body in Junji Ito.

17.) I play volleyball!

18.) I used to be an active cosplayer (cringe, I know) but now I play the ukulele, I draw, write, read, play with makeup, watch a crap ton of movies, play volleyball, and learn new languages!

19.) I will listen to anything except for country! K-pop tends to be my favorite genre but I also love Japanese metal, indie, punk, pop punk, rock and oh geez the list goes on.

20.) I've read so many great books in my lifetime but I would have to say it's between "Looking For Alaska" by John Green and "Running With Scissors" by Augusten Burroughs. Those ones have impacted me the most.

21.) My favorite shows (because I can't possibly pick just one) are: The Walking Dead, Strangers From Hell, My Holo Love, BBC Sherlock, and Alice In Borderland; not in that particular order.

22.) My favorite movie.... Well I'm technically not allowed to talk about it but it involves clubs and fighting and just a little schizophrenia.

23.) I have a stupid ass nose that I hate with every fiber of my being but I'm pretty decently okay looking in real life. Or you can just imagine I'm some super hot guy if you want 🥲

24.) I play a ton of Persona 5 so I think it'd be illegal for me to reveal my identity as I consider myself a Phantom Thief 🎉😻

25.) Sunflowers. I know it's basic, but ever since I had a dream about J-Hope in a field of sunflowers I've been in love with them.....and him.

26.) Favorite food?!?!? PANKO SHRIMP

27.) I'm good at everything (that's a lie)

28.) I wish I was better at portraying myself as a human. I get into my complexes where I think everyone is a randomly automated bot and I'm living in a simulation, so I tend not to trust easily. (This is also a lie, if I had to be better at anything it would probably be lying)

29.) I spend a lot of time centering myself around Kpop. I mean like four hours a day. Whether it's looking at pictures, watching music videos, listening to it, putting on Chan's lives in the background to keep me sane, it's an all day sort of thing.

30.) I thought it already asked me about hobbies, but I'll pretend it says "What type of Hobbits do you have" so that I can say I keep a little Frodo Baggins in my back pocket.

💛🦐

Get to know me asks

Nickname?

Hair color?

Eye color?

Height?

Any siblings?

Any pets?

Favorite color?

Favorite number?

Favorite animal?

Any phobias?

Favorite game?

Sexuality?

Gender identity?

Favorite subject in school?

Any piercings?

Any tattoos?

Do you like sports?

What are your hobbies?

Favorite music genre?

Favorite book?

Favorite show?

Favorite movie?

Describe one thing about your physical appearance

Describe one thing about your identity

Favorite flower?

Favorite food?

Something you’re good at?

Something you wish you were better at?

Something you spend a lot of time doing?

A hobby you have?

Dating Tyler Durden Would Include....

Requested by the very lovely @hyuugasmary

Part two!!

⚠️ Warnings: sexual innuendos, mentions of blood I think? ⚠️

So, you've found a way to get the most wanted man in the world to be your boyfriend. Him being wanted because of how gorgeous he is, but also wanted for the crimes he's committed. This should be fun.

Tyler has the largest infatuation with you. With the way your hair falls over your eyes or how your skin glows when you're out in the sun working in the garden- that type of stuff. He swears that your eyes were more gorgeous than any bar of soap he's blown something up with, even though he most likely wouldn't admit that to anyone but himself. Again, he knows where his priorities lie, but he's one to care more for the intimacy of language.

Many would say this is Tyler's "first life" meaning that he was not an old soul. This would make him overenthusiastic about everything and someone who contains a lot of excitement. This carried over to you, of course whom he finds to be the most exciting thing of all.

When Tyler walked downstairs from his room in the Paper Street house, all eyes fell on him to see what their leader would say. With his oddly printed shirts and wacky pairs of pants, he seemed almost out of place with how grimy and cluttered the rest of the house was. However, there was also a part of him that looked too perfect in this setting. The first time he walked downstairs and heard you yelling insults at his Space Monkeys, he felt his heart beat faster with the admiration he felt towards you.

Your boyfriend is very committed to his cause, as you probably know already. He's willing to do the most ridiculous acts just to show his contribution to the chaos and that's just what he decides to. So when he was in the bathroom ready to shave all the hair off his head, you joined him instead of being surprised he was going for the change. You helped him shave his head and then you asked him to shave yours. Tyler thought it was very badass of you to do that for him and Project Mayhem and he likes to remind you of how sexy it was on the daily.

If you rub Tyler the right way by doing everything in your power to love and care for him and to keep him happy throughout his sadistic tendencies, he might just appoint you to the leader of the Demolitions Committee. If this happens, Tyler trusts you more than anyone else- including himself.

He struggles with insomnia. As the stories go, he was raised in a mental institution and doesn't sleep for weeks on end. Only a part of this is true as you know your boyfriend can go a day or two without any shut-eye. Most of the time the only way he'll truly fall asleep is when he has you in his arms or by his side; listening to your breathing and feeling your fingertips graze the soft but calloused skin on his palms. He wants to know that you're safe at all times.

Tyler doesn't usually talk about his emotions when it comes to his insecurities. Insecurities that you might leave him after finding out about everything he's done or insecurities about not being good enough for you. Mind you, Tyler's confidence is very high but he wants to make sure that your relationship is a two-way street. You do so much for him and he wants to make sure you know he'll reciprocate that. You're usually able to pry these negative thoughts out of him once you're alone together up in his room or cleaning up after a fight in the basement of Lou's Tavern.

This can lead to some minor issues between the two of you if he plays off his insecurities. It can become small arguments but everything is usually fixed after make-up sex.

Sometimes, you have a habit of picking up each other's movements and catchphrases. You tend to find yourself leaning confidently against doorframes or with your hands up above your head, holding onto a part of the ceiling. You also picked up some of his phrases such as "The things you own end up owning you," or, "After a long enough timeline the survival rate for everyone drops to zero."

He picks up your favorite sayings and even starts to smile more since that's a very you thing. Being around someone who appreciates him and his psyche means the world to him and allows him to start showing more fondness for life.

It takes you a while to get used to your new place when living with Tyler, since the water wasn't always clean or the electricity didn't always work. You usually make the best of it but sometimes it's frustrating when your hair (or what's left of it) becomes really greasy. Tyler kinda picks on you for not adapting right away but hey, you did lose a lot of versatile solutions to modern living.

Tyler enjoys date nights. He won't do anything crazy, so don't expect extravagant restaurants or shiny new jewelry. Instead, be excited over a late night drive to look at the stars or listening to records you stole. You know how he has his whole "down with capitalism" rant so usually you two stick to something that doesn't require contributing to that.

Bonus!

Exchanging glances with Tyler while he's giving his speeches on total destruction and absolute chaos. He'll even wink at you in front of the other Space Monkeys.

Trying to fix some of the pipes in the basement with him. His shirt is off and he's sweating everywhere while he duct tapes the openings closed and oh god do I need to continue?

Tyler allows you to hang up the licenses you collect from people like Raymond K. Hessel. You like to put them in the door to your bedroom in a decorative way, all of their names and faces on display.

Going on flights with Tyler to set up new clubs. He's usually the one by the window seat and you're the one flipping through the manual, drawing flames and terrified faces on the diagrams with the paint markers you keep handy.

Wearing your boyfriend's infamous red sunglasses?!

If you're a non-smoker Tyler would do his best not to smoke in front of you due to your distaste for the drug. However, if you do smoke- expect sharing cigarettes. He'll light one and walk around the house with it dangling between his lips, only for you to take a long drag from it when he's least expectant of it.

A/N: I hope this is okay! Thank you for requesting<3

💛🦐