#the pat hobby stories

[vertigoeffect]

Give the book to four of your friends to read it. Get them to tell you what stuck in their minds. Write it down and you've got a picture.

#francis scott fitzgerald #the pat hobby stories

[itsnothingbutluck]

#The Pat Hobby Stories F. Scott Fitzgerald First Edition

[sunsetsimon]

farmer simon riley ♡

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

this is very self indulgent sorry not sorry! pt 2. boyfriend simon nsfw will be out tomorrow!

─────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────

☼ he wakes up at the crack of dawn every morning, kissing your forehead before he starts his routine. rinsing his face, shaving if he needs to, brushing his teeth, the usual. simon doesn’t listen to much music when he’s alone, but the silence grounds him, a reminder that this is his life now. he does a lot of reflecting, sitting on the porch and drifting off in his mind.

☼ as the sun comes up he gets to work, feeding the animals one by one. he talks to them and names them. he acts annoyed when the ducks follow him, quacking at him for him to hurry up and give them their feed. “god dammit, fucking ducks back up!” he grunts, kicking his leg out to keep them back as he fills the bucket.

he makes his round to each animal, giving them a pat and checking that they have everything they need before leaving. by the time he makes his way back to the house, he can tell you're up. the curtains are drawn and the front door is propped open, letting in the fresh morning air. he knows he'll find you in the back garden with a wicker basket on your arm, trying to decide what to make for breakfast.

"how about omelettes this morning, love? somethin' simple, wanna spend some time with you," he says, pulling your back against him, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt and caressing your skin.

☼ always drives you into town when you want to go. he’s like your personal body guard, so unless you tell him otherwise, he expects to be next to you the entire time. spoils you so much too, letting you buy whatever you want without a fuss, he has the money for it.

☼ he buys whole cow from one of his cattle friends and learns to cook different recipes with the meat. simon definitely becomes one of those ‘griller guys’ who finds any excuse to grill or smoke meat. he has a lot of fun with it, trying out new recipes and techniques to see which produces the best results. he loves cooking together with you, thinks you look so cute in your “kiss the chef” apron he got you.

☼ having the boys or your friends over for meals. ghost is anything but a socialite, but he does have the boys over a few times a year for a small cookout. you get so excited every time, ready to hear all the stories soap and gaz talk about, even though they definitely shouldn’t be sharing the information. they try to keep it lighthearted, making positive memories with each other outside of work is rare. he never says it, but simon has a good time whenever they come.

☼ indulges in a lot of hobbies. shooting, wood working, gardening and more. he has to do something to occupy his time now. there’s a small building on your property that he renovated into his work room. tools cover the walls, and his projects sit on the tables until he finishes them. he spends the nights he can’t sleep in there, distracting himself with work so that he doesn’t think about the things that haunt him. you wake up to an empty bed in the middle of the night and look out the window, seeing the lights on in the distant building. sighing, you roll out of bed and put on your fuzzy robe that he got you for winter.

you open the large door, revealing simon sitting at one of his tables, his gun taken apart and splayed across it. “si, it’s 2 in the morning, come to bed,” you say, walking over and softly petting the hair on the back of his neck.

“i will soon, just gotta finish this.” you frown at him, giving him a knowing look that he doesn’t actually plan on being done soon. unmoving from your spot, he sighs and wipes off his hands, throwing the towel down. “okay, ‘m coming.” his hand reaches under the table, grabbing a 2nd gun and tucking it into the holster in his pants.

you roll your eyes, “my god.. do you just have those everywhere?”

“yes.”

☼ homegrown flower bouquets during the spring and summer, simon makes it a point to make you a fresh one every week. he cuts the stems and puts it in a vase for you, leaving it on the kitchen counter for you to see when you come down. he does everything he can to make you feel special because you’re the light of his life. sometimes he builds you things too! making mental notes whenever you talk about wanting something, he spends night after night in his workroom to make it perfect for you.

☼ loves sitting on your porch and watching the sun set with you. after dinner, he’ll pull you out onto the porch, sitting next to you with a glass of whiskey. simon doesn’t say anything, just staring off and enjoying your presence. you can feel his eyes on you occasionally, watching as the sun casts it’s oranges, pinks, and reds across your face. you look so beautiful and peaceful here.

☼ never expected this to be his life but he’s happy with the way it is. he can never get too bored though, always needing to do something. the winters can be tough on him mentally as there’s less to do in the cold, so he picks up reading and is constantly finishing projects around the house. he just wants you to be safe and by his side, forever.

#ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod x reader #.wbm

[nickeverdeen]

arcane charaters with knowing the reader has a crush on them and like them back? How ould they react?

Arcane characters knowing reader has a crush on them and their feelings are mutual

Vi

Vi's tough persona doesn't disappear, but it softens into a teasing banter

She might playfully tease you about your crush, often accompanied by a smirk or a wink

Vi, being a protector by nature, would subtly demonstrate her care for you

Whether it's offering an extra jacket in the cold or keeping an eye out in crowded situations, she shows her protective side

Vi would actively seek out opportunities to spend time with you, engaging in shared adventures or missions

These situations allow her to be close to you while maintaining a sense of camaraderie

Vi, known for her straightforwardness, would genuinely show interest in your thoughts and feelings

She might ask about your day or share aspects of her own life, fostering a deeper connection

While not overly affectionate, Vi might incorporate subtle touches—a hand on the shoulder or a reassuring pat

Or the cupcake moment she did with Caitlyn

These gestures convey her comfort with you and add a layer of intimacy to your interactions

Vi may initiate friendly challenges or competitions, showcasing her competitive side

It's a way for her to bond with you and share moments of triumph or friendly banter

As the mutual feelings deepen, Vi might find herself gradually opening up about her own vulnerabilities and past

This creates a sense of trust and intimacy between her and you

Vi's loyalty extends to you, and she becomes a reliable source of support

Whether it's standing up for you in tough situations or providing a listening ear, she ensures you know she's there for you

Vi's affection is expressed in more subtle ways

A genuine smile, a lingering look, or a thoughtful gesture—these moments showcase the depth of her feelings without compromising her tough exterior

Although she will definetly flirt with you

Vi becomes comfortable in shared silences with you

These moments, where words are unnecessary, speak volumes about the connection they share

Caitlyn

Caitlyn maintains her professional demeanor but subtly lets her guard down around you

She still prioritizes her duties but might show a softer side in your interactions

Caitlyn engages in conversations that encourage you to share your thoughts and feelings

She's genuinely interested in getting to know you on a personal level

Caitlyn discovers and explores shared interests with you

Whether it's enjoying a mutual hobby or discussing topics they both find intriguing, she creates connections beyond their professional relationship

Caitlyn, in her own reserved way, expresses admiration for your qualities

She may offer subtle compliments, acknowledging your skills or unique attributes

Despite her busy schedule, Caitlyn carves out quality time to spend with you

Whether it's shared meals or quiet moments, she values their time together

Caitlyn becomes a reliable and trustworthy presence for you

Her commitment to upholding justice extends to ensuring the well-being and happiness of those close to her

Caitlyn's protective instincts may surface subtly

She might take extra precautions or subtly intervene if you find yourself in a challenging situation

Caitlyn, though reserved, allows moments of vulnerability to surface

She may share personal stories or experiences, allowing you to see a more genuine side of her

In a composed manner, Caitlyn acknowledges the mutual feelings between them

She might express her sentiments indirectly or through actions, allowing you to understand the depth of her feelings

Caitlyn shows her affection through thoughtful gestures

Whether it's a small gift, a handwritten note, or acts of kindness, these actions reflect her appreciation for you

Jinx

Jinx thrives on playful banter and teasing

She'd likely playfully taunt you about your crush, using a mix of sarcasm and genuine interest, creating a dynamic and unpredictable atmosphere

Jinx would involve you in her mischievous escapades

From planning pranks on Sevika or Silco to causing a bit of chaos together, these shared adventures become the backdrop for their budding connection

Jinx might enjoy the thrill of secret rendezvous with you

Sneaking away for clandestine meetings adds an extra layer of excitement to their relationship

While maintaining her tough exterior, Jinx may allow occasional glimpses of vulnerability

These moments could be brief and fleeting, revealing a more complex side to her personality

Jinx's expressions of affection may be unconventional

Instead of traditional gestures, she might gift you something quirky or set up unexpected surprises that align with her unpredictable nature

Jinx, in her own impulsive way, may unexpectedly come to your aid or defend you when the situation calls for it

Her actions reflect a sense of protective loyalty

Jinx seeks out experiences that provide an adrenaline rush

Whether it's daring stunts or exploring abandoned places, she involves you in activities that fuel your shared thrill-seeking tendencies

Jinx communicates a lot through body language

From playful nudges to intense eye contact, her expressions convey a range of emotions that add depth to their interactions

Jinx's emotions can be unpredictable, swinging between intense passion and moments of vulnerability

You experience the full spectrum of her feelings, creating a unique and dynamic connection

Jinx's loyalty to you is fierce

She stands by you in moments of chaos, showcasing her dedication and willingness to go to extremes for those she cares about

Jayce

Jayce would be naturally friendly and approachable, making you feel comfortable in his presence

His charismatic nature would shine through, creating an inviting atmosphere

Jayce would actively seek out shared interests with you, whether it's in the realm of technology, innovation, or personal hobbies

He sees these commonalities as opportunities to deepen the connection

Given Jayce's intellectual pursuits, he'd engage you in meaningful conversations

From discussing the latest inventions to exploring ideas and theories, he values stimulating intellectual exchanges

Jayce would be genuinely supportive of your endeavors

Whether it's personal goals or professional aspirations, he encourages and believes in your potential, providing a strong pillar of support

Jayce, with a thoughtful nature, might express his affection through small gestures

Whether it's surprising you with a meaningful gift or arranging a special experience, he invests effort in making you feel valued

(And yes I do realize I keep writing “Wheter” 🥲)

A touch of chivalry might be present in Jayce's interactions

He could exhibit traditional gestures of politeness and consideration, reflecting his respect and admiration for you

Jayce will 100% flex his muscles from time to time when you’re alone

While maintaining a respectful tone, Jayce might engage in occasional flirtatious banter

His charm manifests through playful remarks and subtle compliments, adding a layer of romantic tension

Jayce recognizes the importance of quality time in building a connection

Whether it's shared meals, outings, or quiet moments, he ensures you have meaningful experiences together

Jayce is attuned to your emotions and needs

His empathetic nature allows him to understand and navigate the complexities of your feelings, fostering a deeper emotional connection

While maintaining a level of professionalism, Jayce may display subtle forms of public affection

A reassuring touch, a shared smile, or a glance that communicates your connection without being overly conspicuous

Ekko

Ekko's interactions would be filled with playful banter and teasing

He enjoys keeping the atmosphere light-hearted and fun, making you comfortable in expressing your feelings

Ekko would actively involve you in his adventures and experiments

Whether it's exploring new hextech creations or navigating the undercity together, he values shared experiences

Given Ekko's interest in hextech, he might engage you in collaborative projects

Working together on inventive ideas becomes a way to bond and strengthen your connection

Ekko, as a natural inventor, might surprise you with unique and thoughtful inventions

These surprises reflect his creativity and the effort he puts into making you feel special

Ekko's time-manipulating abilities may add an interesting twist to your interactions

He might create moments where time seems to slow down, emphasizing the significance of your connection

Ekko is perceptive and empathetic

He pays attention to your feelings and is understanding of your emotions, creating a supportive environment for open communication

Ekko's adventurous spirit means that he actively seeks out exciting and daring activities

Whether it's exploring hidden places or taking on challenges, he involves you in his quest for excitement

Despite his playful nature, Ekko is capable of having deeper conversations

He might share his thoughts and feelings, creating moments of emotional intimacy that strengthen your bond

Ekko might express his feelings through physical affection, such as playful nudges, high-fives, or even inventive ways of showing closeness without being overly romantic

Ekko sees the relationship as an opportunity for mutual growth

He encourages you to pursue your interests and supports you in your endeavors, fostering a sense of personal and collective development

Viktor

Viktor values deep and meaningful conversations

He would engage you in discussions about innovation, progress, and your personal interests, creating a connection through shared intellectual pursuits

Recognizing your passions and talents, Viktor might involve you in collaborative projects

Working together on scientific or technological endeavors becomes a way to strengthen your bond

Both driven by a desire for progress, Viktor and you would share a common vision

You collaborate on projects that contribute to the betterment of Zaun and Piltover, emphasizing your shared goals

Despite his stoic exterior, Viktor is empathetic

He provides emotional support to you, understanding the complexities of your feelings and offering a steady presence during challenging times

Viktor might express his affection in subtle and thoughtful ways

Whether it's a shared moment of silence, a reassuring touch, or a small, meaningful gesture, these actions convey his feelings

Viktor and you would reflect on the progress of your relationship and personal growth

He values a partnership where both individuals contribute to each other's development

Viktor's strategic mindset extends to relationship dynamics

He might plan thoughtful dates or experiences, considering your preferences and creating moments that deepen your connection

Viktor understands the balance between ambition and personal life

He ensures that you feel valued and prioritized, demonstrating that your relationship is an integral part of his life

Viktor sees the relationship as an opportunity for continuous learning and growth

Whether exploring new areas of science or embracing personal interests, they embark on a journey of discovery together

Despite the seriousness of his work, Viktor would appreciate the importance of light-hearted moments

He might engage in occasional humor or playful activities, allowing the relationship to have a well-rounded dynamic

#request #headcanons #preferences #arcane x reader #arcane #vi arcane x reader #vi arcane #vi x reader #arcane caitlyn #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn kiramman #arcane jinx x reader #arcane jinx #jinx x reader #jinx arcane #jinx #jayce arcane #jayce x reader #ekko arcane #ekko #ekko x reader #arcane viktor x reader #viktor

[loganlermanstanaccount]

RM! Miguel O'Hara headcanons (SFW)

(Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

summary: In light of the most recent chapter of my college au fic, Rigor mortis; here are some headcanons I have for this version of Miguel <3 .

warnings: none, just fluff :)

a/n: trying to get out of bad writer's block with some drabbles. looking through my asks and making my way through them rn!

wc: 0.5k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He's meant to wear reading glasses but literally never does. You see him squinting at shit all over the apartment, and it only really clicks when you catch him early in the morning (because I know he wakes up at disgusting hours in the day to be productive) and he's got a pair on.

He gives amazing gifts. I feel like he's really detail oriented so he'll take forever to choose meaningful gifts. Not even necessarily expensive; just something that shows he pays attention to conversations: like that item of clothing you loved but can’t afford, something super specific for your hobbies, a whole bunch of books you like because you just mentioned a specific author or genre you love.

Conversely, he's the kind of person that's really difficult to buy gifts for. Everything that he could possibly want, he'll just buy for himself; his interests are too niche for you to buy him tools and things; and he'd give you absolutely bs answers when you ask him straight up. You'd be like, hey, I know your birthday’s soon, what do you want; and he'll say oh, I just want you to be happy, or I have everything I need right here, baby. And you'll be like ok cool, is that yes or a no on the ipad? 

Coffee addict. Has all the expensive machines and fancy filters. He lives pretty modestly, but it is the one thing he'll really invest in. 

Similarly, will collect old tech and gadgets just to fiddle around with. He has a box of junk underneath his bed that lowkey he’s been building up since he was a kid. I feel like he was such a curious kid and all his tías and tíos would pinch his cheeks and pat his head and give him all their old junk because he shows an interest.

Sleeps like a dad on the couch. Especially after a long day. He stretches out on the sofa like a cat with his hand on bare belly and it is simultaneously super fucking funny and kind of hot??? Like you can see his happy trail and that peek of tan skin and you just knoww that v line is sharp asf.

He talks to himself. Especially after a frustrating day, and it's pretty funny to watch. He becomes so animated and will have a whole ass conversation with himself whilst chopping veg, or something. He'd wave the knife around, playing both sides of a situation. It helps him to decompress and logically reason with difficult problems. It's something he will 10000% deny if you bring it up. 

He's funny. Not necessarily laugh out loud, quippy one liners; but he has a super dry sense of humor. He's fond of a deadpan, and will often play it straight whilst saying something ridiculous. I feel like no-one usually gets when he's being sarcastic, but for some reason you do, and it makes his eyes go wide the first time. Like you catch something he says under his breath and laugh; and he's stuttering because people don't usually have the same kind of humor as him. 

long story short, he's a big ol' softie. more bark than bite :)

_

_

_

#i luv him #miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #rigor mortis 😼 #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #kat_writes😼 #fluff #miguel o'hara headcanons

[owen-writes]

Stupidity

10th Doctor x Male Reader

"Well, Doc? What's the diagnosis?" you quip, wincing as the Doctor carefully examines the gash on your arm.

"Stupidity. It's chronic and terminal," he replies with a smirk, fetching the TARDIS's medkit. "Running away from aliens without looking where you're going? That's textbook."

You chuckle, "Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Besides, it's not every day you get to sprint through time and space."

"True enough," he concedes, his eyes dancing with amusement as he starts cleaning the wound. "But you have to admit, there are safer ways to get your heart racing."

You shoot him a teasing look, "Are you suggesting I find a hobby less adventurous than time-traveling with you, Doctor?"

He grins, his hands skillfully wrapping a bandage around your arm. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. Life's more fun with a bit of danger. Keeps the adrenaline flowing."

"Right, because nothing says 'fun' like narrowly escaping extraterrestrial threats," you remark, watching his focused expression as he tends to your injury.

"Ah, but it's the thrill of the unknown, the excitement of the unexpected that makes it all worthwhile," he replies, his fingers grazing your skin gently.

You raise an eyebrow, "Are you trying to distract me from the fact that you're essentially calling me reckless?"

The Doctor looks up, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Maybe I am. But, you know, there's something undeniably attractive about someone who dives headfirst into the unknown."

You can't help but blush at his compliment, "Flattery won't make the pain go away, Doctor."

"Oh, but it might make you forget about it for a moment," he suggests, leaning in a bit closer. "And I must say, you do look rather dashing with a battle wound."

You playfully roll your eyes, "Is that your way of saying I look handsome even when injured?"

He grins, unabashedly flirting, "Well, I wouldn't want you to think I only find you charming when you're at your best. Besides, scars tell a story, and I do love a good story."

As he finishes up with the bandage, the Doctor gently pats your shoulder. "There, good as new. Now, how about we find somewhere a bit safer for our next adventure, hm?"

You nod, a smile playing on your lips. "Sounds like a plan, Doctor. Just try to keep the danger level to a minimum, if you can."

He gives you a mock-innocent look, "Me? Keep things safe? Where's the fun in that?"

And with a playful exchange of banter, you and the Doctor prepare for the next thrilling escapade through time and space.

#doctor who x male reader #doctor who x reader #doctor x male reader #doctor x reader #the doctor x male reader #the doctor x reader #10th doctor x reader #tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor x male reader #doctor who imagine #10th doctor #doctor who #david tennant x you #david tennant x reader #david tennant

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ plz

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

Chapter 002: Wing Man

You start your first night of work. Eddie requests a private show. But not for him; for his friend — a rich and lonely bachelor who can’t seem to get over his ex.

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020

word count: 7.2k words

NSFW — lap dance, steve creaming his pants, abusive relationships, talks of trauma, steve and reader trauma dumping lol

pairing: lonely bachelor!steve x fem!exoticdancer!hargrove! reader (and lowkey eddie)

author’s note: yes we get with steve before we get with eddie, but we will get there okay??? 🫣🫣🫦 also don’t tell me you guys wouldn’t homie hop in hawkins because these men are SO FINE

tags: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n

“Let me see you dance I love to watch you dance. Take you down another level, and get you dancing with the Devil” -Wicked Games by The Weeknd

♡

A sultry black set.

A hot pink set with bows. Caribbean blue. Army green for the military men. Some cuffs. Personal wet wipes. Sanitizer. And lastly, a stethoscope to play the part.

“I can’t believe you accepted a caregiving job,” Max scoffs as you both make your way out of Scrubs 4 Less. “Do you even have healthcare experience?”

Your stepsister loved to mask her prying with carefully crafted screening questions. Even if they sounded pessimistic.

“Sure I do,” you shrug. “Remember that summer I cared for Great-Aunt Dotty when she had Parkinson’s? Figured maybe it’d be similar.”

“I guess.”

You take it upon yourself to remind Max that you are certified in CPR. And with that cert, you saved numerous people from drowning as a lifeguard. Of course that was for one year during high school, but it was experience nonetheless.

"Well, what about the heavy lifting?"

"Easy. All in the legs." you pat your thighs. Despite being calm on the outside, you are getting nervous now. About everything.

"Takes a lot of core strength too. And upper body."

It's like she knows what you actually will be going to be doing. However, there are parallels between both professions, and you made sure you made a choice like that so you wouldn't have to lie as much about the physicality of things.

"You seemed to have gotten the job pretty fast,” Max notes.

"Nursing homes are really short staffed. Especially with the pandemic and everyone leaving from all the burnout, they’ll take anybody who qualifies."

"Did they even determine if you do?"

"Are you questioning my ability to take care of people?”

You know you’re being manipulative. You can spot a manipulator from a mile away. But this little white lie is for you and Max’s own good. Even if it means selling her a fake story. Even if it means lying. Living a double life.

“An abusive home life and all-timers isn’t comparable.”

“Have you considered that some people with Alzheimer’s are combative as well?”

“And you had to accept the graveyard shift?” she pries further, ignoring all your valid points.

“It pays more,” you answer sharply, readily. “Two dollar shift differential.”

“Oh my god, we’re practically millionaires.”

The sudden change in Max's behavior is really catching you off guard. She was optimistic on her birthday. A little withdrawn when the weekend was approaching. Now the pain is evident it is almost unbearable. Sure, Billy isn't a problem anymore, but with all of his chaos, Max has found solace in using her hobbies as coping mechanisms. Her body needs that adrenaline, and now you have cut off access to all of it.

Max can't go surf. She can't run around freely just yet because she doesn't know good routes and trails. She doesn't have friends in the area besides you, Robin, and Vicky. She misses Donovan.

Max is hurt. You know she is, but you don't blame her. Still, you’ve had it.

“Hey.” you snap.

Max halts. She knows she went too far.

“I know it's sucky... the situation we're in right now," you sigh. "But I'm doing this for us, remember? It’s temporary. We just need a soft place to land, and this is paving the way towards that.”

At least that’s something you didn’t have to lie about: It’s a sacrifice you were making for her.

———————𓆩♡𓆪—————-

Orientation day comes in a blink of an eye.

Eddie is giving you a tour of Hellfire while discussing how his particular ‘system’ works. You’ve got to give him credit. His system makes sense.

“I don’t ask my girls to pay to dance here,” he explains. “I just think that’s bogus. Also, it’s Hawkins. Not that many competitors, so if I let you dance here, you’re automatically staff.”

You two walk down the hall. Eddie shows you where you would clock in and out, promising you your punch-in code by the end of the week. You learn that everyone gets paid out every Friday, because in Eddie’s words, “fuck that biweekly shit”. Tips go home with you every night, but you are expected to help tip out staff members patrons don’t really see or interact with. Therefore: Jonathan’s girlfriend Nancy whose House Mom, Henry, and Argyle. The boys make their money from bussing and serving. Jonathan earns tips from POTIONS.

“I figured as much.”

You graze your hand along the kukris on the wall as Eddie talks. He stops to take note of it and gives you a boastful smile.

“You like ‘em?”

“Yeah, they’re pretty cool.”

“That’s the perk of owning your own business,” Eddie says exuding a lazy stretch to graze the kukris himself. “You choose where the money goes, when it goes, how it goes.”

He ponders for a while longer.

“Most of the time at least.”

Clearly a majority of the money also went to the chicken wings.

Eddie leads you to back of the house where he then proudly showcases his wing menu to you. There’s the Hawkins Hot Chick for Nashville inspired hot chicken. Chicken Strippers for the picky eaters. And the ‘Hot As Cluck’ buffalo wings with spice scales named after Metallica songs: Fuel (mild), Fight Fire with Fire (medium), Creeping Death (hot), and The Unforgiven (Extremely hot). All are served with one’s choice of carrots and celery or crinkle cut fries on the side.

“Crinkle cut fries are the best kind of fries,” Eddie states. “Ain’t that right, chef?”

“Ay ay!”

One chef. For the entire back of the house. Though that seems like the textbook definition of a staff shortage, the friendly Latino man with long, black hair that he concealed with a hairnet and baseball cap most likely had it covered. He flashes you a kind grin with kind, hooded eyes to match, quite possibly revealing to you that he’s likely stoned out of his mind. But if it helps him through the shift…

“Argyle’s the man,” Eddie explains. “Pitched the chicken wing idea to me when we were both blasted.”

Suspicions confirmed.

“Is it just Argyle?” you inquire waving hello to him.

“Sometimes Eds helps out back here too,” Argyle answers for him. “Like when we’re really fucking shlammed, he’ll come back here and help cook.”

Argyle turns to you. You smile at him.

“But most of the time I got it,” he says. “That man’s got enough on his plate.”

“Yeah, Argyle’s a beast,” Eddie confirms. “Don’t know what I’d do without him.”

While Eddie tidies up back of the house, you and Argyle converse with one another. He’s 28, produces music on the side, and learned how to cook from his mom at the age of three. California native as well. By observing the mini station he has set up, you notice that Argyle keeps a stash of Yerba Mate with him at all times, and some bud in his mini gym bag. You also learn that he and Eddie often take breaks together, hot boxing one another’s vans as if it were some sort of competition. But, as Argyle had mentioned, with how much Eddie currently has on his plate, those joint breaks (no pun intended) have been pushed to the backburner.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Hargrove,” Argyle concludes. “Excited to have you on our team.”

“Likewise!” you shake his hand with a smile. “Looking forward to bugging you for chicken wings.”

“You bug me all you want, mamas,” he insists. “I’ll make you allll the chicken wings in the world.”

“You a flats girl or a drumstick girl?” Eddie questions.

“Flats,” you respond instantly.

You receive a distraught gasp from the cook while Eddie cackles.

“Atta girl,” Eddie smirks patting your back. “I knew I liked you.”

“BLAS.PHE.MY!” Argyle screams. “Drumsticks are where it’s at bro.”

The three of you argue back and forth about chicken for the next couple of minutes, Eddie sticking beside you through and through. Though play-fighting with your new coworkers seems meniscal in the grand scheme of things, you reveled in it. It’s the first time in a while you felt a sense of community outside your sister. You wanted to savor it, especially since you know that this is temporary.

“You’re a red flag, Hargrove,” Argyle jokes, clutching his chest. “You were perfect in my eyes until you said you were a flats girl.”

“Well it’s a good thing she’s mine and not yours,” Eddie jeers.

Your heart flutters. Eddie and chicken wings. You’ve GOT to be in heaven.

“Alright, word,” Argyle calls after Eddie as he pulls you away from the kitchen. “Word. I’m still gonna spoil her with food like she’s mine though.”

“He’s such a flirt,” Eddie says to you once you’re both out of earshot. “Endearing and endangering at the same time.”

“All in good nature right?”

“‘Course!” he exclaims. “We’re all about respecting women at Hellfire. Everything’s lighthearted banter.”

And you’ll revel in that too. Especially since ‘respect’ and ‘lighthearted banter’ weren’t things you were able to experience at home.

“Also!” Eddie adds. “Respectfully… Wear something simple but classy on Friday.”

“Ooh,” you chime. “Simple and classy?”

“Yeah, I’m talking neutral tones. Red lipstick also preferred but you can do whatever you want. I’ve got something I need you to do for me on your very first day.”

I’ll do anything for you, Eddie. Your intrusive thoughts are starting to take over.

———————𓆩♡𓆪—————-

It’s Friday night now and everyone is in their respective stations preparing for the rush. Argyle is prepping the fryer while Chrissy flirts with him for nachos. She waves at you with her fingers and gestures that you can have some too. You smile and mouth a, “thank you” to her.

You really like Chrissy. Of all the dancers you’ve seen so far, she is the most memorable. She is charming and sweet, soft but firm with her boundaries. She has regulars lining up for her daily, all with different types of quirks and interests. But Chrissy somehow fits all of their molds, just by how fast she can switch from doe to siren depending on her audience. You want to be just like her.

You and Eddie stop by the kitchen before heading off to finish orientation. There are chicken wings — flats only, of course — on the line waiting for you with a note scribbled on the back of an old ticket order.

“Shy Girl&lt;3”

“Eat up, mamas,” Argyle encourages you. “Gonna need the energy for tonight.”

“Yeah!” Chrissy cheers. “It’s Fridaaay!”

You thank them before heading out with Eddie once again. Eddie steals a flat from you and flashes a thumbs up to the cook before you two leave.

“Mm,” he approves. “Fight Fire with Fire Buffalo.”

You are just about done with wrapping up orientation training and ready to start the first night on your own. That is until Mike Wheeler, Nancy’s younger brother and bus boy, comes along and interrupts Eddie’s train of thought. You walk with Eddie in silence, munching on your food while Mike relentlessly hounds him about bringing his girlfriend into the club. She is 18 but Eddie is refusing.

“But but-” Mike stammers. “The club is already eighteen plu-”

“But nothing,” Eddie interrupts. “This is Hellfire Club. Not babysitting club.”

“Well I’m 19 and you let me work here. Why does it matter if she’s 18?”

“Because you’re a dude, Wheeler,” Eddie hisses in return. “It’s different for the ladies.”

Not willing to risk any liabilities, he leaves Mike with just that. You follow Eddie, fiddling nervously with your hands as you watch him tsk and shake his head in disapproval.

“I can’t have teenage girls in here,” Eddie mutters. “That’s just blatantly obvious right? Or have I lost it?”

“No, right. Totally!” you agree.

Eddie has another rule. No strippers under the age of 20. Anyone under, including ages of 18 and 19 are children to him. He admits that he gets squeamish when guys bring their younger looking girlfriends into the club. You assume it pertained to his colleague’s girlfriends too.

You walk past the bar with Eddie, waving hi to Jonathan as you did so. Dustin is at the bar as well but is too busy to say hello. You manage to glance over and watch him fix his hair, trying to look his absolute best while FaceTiming his Mormon e-girl from Utah, Suzie. After eavesdropping for the past couple of days, you pick up that she insists on video chatting with Dustin every time he is at Hellfire to ensure his fidelity. Suzie wanted to be his “only wifey” to which ‘Dusty Bun’ assures her that she is.

“Uh oh,” comes a voice ever so soft it sounds eerie when it echoes through the club. “Someone’s in a bad mood today.”

Slithering into your periphery is the same tall, lean guy that you ran into earlier last week. Today he's sporting a white tank top that revealed a couple small tattoos scattered around his body, black pants that were tight enough to be yours, a loose wallet chain belt, and chunky work docs. His gorgeous blonde hair looks attainably messy by what you suspect is mousse. He smells of beer and cigarettes tonight, his tired eyes a precursor to his lust-filled gaze. A poster boy for all the men you wouldn’t want to bring home to your parents is none other than,

“Henry Creel,” Eddie says. “Mike’s just picking a bone with me. Have you met Hargrove? She’s our newest dancer.”

It’s seemingly Henry’s first day back. From the first day of orientation to now, you’ve only had run-ins with Jim, the older gentleman who is also a bouncer. Jim spent years with the Hawkins PD, but after a scandal that only Eddie and his peers seem to know about, Jim found a home protecting young women at the Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club. The only place that gave him a chance.

You like Jim. You like everyone here. You are also ecstatic to see Henry again, this time as a dancer. You can see the excitement blooming in his eyes, with a steady increase in his pupil size by the second.

“Well, well,” Henry smirks. “Look who decided to join us.”

You two shake hands again.

“Henry’s my other bouncer,” Eddie explains, but you already knew that. “He’s my right hand man. He’s tiny but mighty. Could snap bones in an instant.”

You peer over at Henry with shocked eyes, to which Henry acknowledges with a dramatic bow.

“You’ll see it,” Eddie hovers a hand over your back. “I sure hope not anytime soon, but there’s always that one douchebag.”

“And they always underestimate me too,” Henry says. “I get a nice kick out of it. It’s a win-win.”

Henry is certainly not beefy, but judging by his muscle tone and sharp upright demeanor, he can put up a fight. Dude seems like he does a lot of the dirty work for Eddie. He can get away with it too.

After bidding ‘see you later’ to Henry, you continue walking with Eddie.

“So,” he starts. “Did you put together a cute simple outfit for tonight?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Good,” Eddie says. “I can tell it’s gonna look amazing. I dig the red lipstick and the choker.”

Eddie wanted classy so you gave him classy. Underneath the cloak, you are sporting a lacy black set with a matching black choker and classic red lipstick. Your hair is straightened tonight since beach waves are your signature.

“You want a sneak peak?” you smirk.

Eddie quirks up. “Oh man, do I? Let me at it.”

You take off your cloak to reveal what you have underneath.

Eddie stops in his tracks, taking in the sight in front of him. His gaze is both soft, yet lout. Delicate in the brows, yet carnivorous in the eyes. Slowly, his jaw lowers, uttering a silent gasp as he fully processes the sight of the vixen — you — in front of him.

“Jeez…” he strains. “You look…”

You blush. Electricity whirls through you as Eddie continues to relish in your beauty.

“Showstopping,” Eddie finishes.

He reaches his arms out and you take them, letting yourself fall into his chest as he pulls you to him. During the embrace, he sets his lips beside your cheek, brushing against them delicately as he gives you a verbal kiss.

“Mwah!” he exclaims, leaving you longing for a stronger peck. You feel like you’re on a cloud when he spins you to get a full 360 of your look. “I was expecting like a light color, or pastel…but black — black is your color.”

“Yeah?” you reply. “It’s not too edgy? Choker and all?”

“A lil rough around the edges won’t hurt,” the club owner approves. “He’s gonna love it.”

You follow closely behind. “He?”

Your first client. You had a feeling that’s what Eddie had planned for you today, but reality didn’t sit in until right now.

"Ever given a lap dance before?" Eddie inquires.

"Yeah, but not in this setting."

He seems amused with your answer. Eddie smirks as he gives you a nudge. "Perfect."

You two are walking down the corridor now, down to an isolated room at the end masked by a beaded curtain. You’re unsure if the goosebumps that form on your skin is because of the slight chilliness of the club or because you were walking into a seductive hideout with the boss you had the hots for.

You two stop just a yard short of the curtain. Eddie turns to face you.

"I've got a buddy named Steve. Not short for anything, his parents just... loved the 80s." he chuckles. “You’re giving him a private show tonight. One hour.”

Eddie’s buddy. The pressure is on. The name rings a bell, you believe Dustin was talking about him the first day you set foot in Hellfire.

“Oh,” you say. “I think I heard your friend Dustin talking about him last week.”

As if it were some inside joke, Eddie sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie mutters. “Don’t even get me started on those two.”

Eddie motions you forward, extending his arm to signal an “after you” gesture as you proceed into the private show room. The beads of the curtain carelessly clash into one another as Eddie saunters in.

"Anyway, Steve has been going through it lately. His lady left him for another dude, he lost his job because the city wanted another basic coffee shop instead of a place to rent cheesy B movies…and the last time he worked in the food industry he had to wear a sailor’s uniform, so he’s since opted out.”

You wander around what was going to be your office for the next hour as Eddie aimlessly takes his own path and furthers his lay-down.

“His folks want nothing to do with him because he doesn't wanna be nepotized by them. When he’s not working, he’s babysitting — you guessed it — Dustin and the rest of the boys when they’re not here or playing D&D with me. Oh yeah, and on the topic of girlfriend, he hasn't gotten laid in a fat minute.”

Eddie pauses.

"It's kinda depressing,” he says. “Now that I say it all out loud.”

He makes a sharp turn and walks toward the boombox he kept in the corner of the room.

"That is depressing," you mumble nonchalantly, as if you yourself had not been laid in a fat minute… contrary to your obnoxious brother’s popular belief.

“How do you sleep at night knowing you’re a fucking slut?” Billy’s voice haunts you.

You’ve only had one real boyfriend and Billy knew that. And that boyfriend, shortly after he left you for the girl he told you not to worry about, admitted that you were simply a placeholder for him. They’re happily married now and it tortures you knowing that being the first choice was never in the cards. Billy knew that too and used that backstory to fuel your insecurities. Billy knew you hated feeling used, yet brought it up every chance he got. Making his victims feel small, that was the source of his power. You shudder it off.

You watch as Eddie plays around with the boombox, ensuring that the aux chord was working along with all its other components.

"Tell you what," Eddie begins to barter. "You give him a good show, you can keep a hundred percent of your tips tonight. Consider it a sign on bonus."

“Wow, Eddie really?” you exclaim. “That…helps me out a lot. Thanks so much.

“Of course, doll,” Eddie grins. “Happy to help.”

Eddie finishes up tidying the room before walking back over to you.

“I can’t get over how amazing you look,” he adds one last time. “You’re gonna knock his socks off.”

“Thank you, Eddie,” you thank him one last time.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

He lingers for a while longer before going outside to look for Steve. Meanwhile, heart’s-a-fluttering you try to acquaint yourself with the place, choosing a seductive song of your liking before getting prepped.

Wicked Games by The Weeknd.

More ruckus sounds from outside of the show room. You assume your client has arrived.

“That’s the boy,” Eddie confirms. “BRB-right back.”

You excuse your boss as he makes his way over to his friend. While you wait, your mind begins to race. Does your outfit look okay? Does your breath smell? Do you smell? Despite all the wardrobe and wellness checks you’ve done, your mind is insistent that something else was off. To calm your nerves, you decide to take a quick gulp of Bombay Sapphire, a gin Eddie had provided for the room, before Steve walks in.

Liquid courage. May help with the performance too.

“There he is,” Eddie cheers as the two men greet each other outside. “What took you so long?”

“There was uh, traffic,” a softer voice responds.

“I call bull.”

The two talk a bit more, voices too quiet for you to make out what they’re saying. That, or the sound of your heart pounding against your chest drowned out their conversation. Steve sounds friendly. Timid, but friendly nonetheless.

You listen in on Eddie’s spiel about you. He called you stunning, explained that you just moved from California, and that you are exactly Steve’s type. Whatever that could possibly mean. You then hear Eddie go over the rules. No touching you without consent. No verbal or physical harassment. No sexual intercourse. And to tip generously.

“She sounds lovely. Thanks for the run down, Eds.”

“‘Course. She’s all yours, Big Boy.”

The beaded curtains clash once more.

In walks a man around Eddie’s age, late 20s, early 30s with sleek mahogany hair and slight puffy eyes. He’s sporting a gray North Face sleeveless jacket with a plain black shirt underneath and denim blue Levi’s. He’s a lot more preppy than you thought he would be. Steve’s reaction to you was similar to that of Eddie, despite how different they seem from each other.

“Hi,” he greets you.

“Hi,” you smile. “You’re Steve?”

He nods shyly. “You’re who they call Shy Girl?”

“That’s meee.”

It doesn’t take a body language analyst to see that Steve is guarded. It takes another fragile, sullen demeanor to know one.

“Are you one of Eddie’s shy friends?”

The comment earns a laugh from Steve. “You think I’m shy?”

“Just a little.”

He attempts to mask a gulp. “I’ve just never gotten a lap dance before.”

“You think I’m supposed to believe that?”

You stalk towards him and rest a hand on his chest when proximity and Steve himself grants you permission. You sink your palm in deeper when you pick up he’s receptive to it.

Oh yeah, that’s all gin.

“With your handsome self?”

Steve’s blushing now. “Yeah…strip clubs are kinda not my thing. They’re starting to be though, cuz I always come and support Eddie.”

“What a nice boyfriend,” you joke.

“Eddie and I do have a budding bromance,” he admits with a laugh.

“Boy I’d love to be in the middle of that,” you tease him honestly.

Steve is left stunned and speechless while you grab his hand and lead him to the futon in the middle of the room. He attempts to relax, exhaling the tension out of his shoulders and manspreading as he watches you encompass him. You walked in a slow circle around Steve as the music starts and he peers up at you with curious eyes. Alas, you stop in front of him, cupping his face softly in your hands and synchronizing your hip movements to the rhythm of the song.

Relate to your customers. Talk to them. Build a connection with them, you think to yourself.

“So how’s your day been?”

Steve cracks a faint smile. "Good, how's yours?"

"Good," you chime as you slowly lower yourself onto his lap.

Steve sharply inhales, sucking the tension he had just released right back into his body. You shake your head in disapproval and stroke his face calmly.

“No, no,” you coo. “Just sit back, relax. You’re safe with me.”

“I’m safe with you, huh?” he responds in an is-that-so kind of fashion. “You seem like pure danger to me.”

“Oh, please,” you snarkily disregard his comment. “I’m an angel.”

“In a place called Hellfire?” he challenges you. “I find that hard to believe.”

Steve wants to touch you. So bad. But he refrains. You feel it in his levitating palms, resting just inches away from the small of your back. You start to lightly ride his thigh, hoping to catch his palm in passing as you move your hips about. Instead you’re met with something hard at the base of his pants, an outline and protrusion that wasn’t there before.

Steve looks down and acknowledges it with a shrug.

"Sorry," he chuckles. "It has a mind of its own."

You laugh faintly in return. "It's okay. I'd say it's responding appropriately."

"Yeah?"

"Given the circumstances," you say as you grind slower, deeper. "Yeah."

"Well, that's a relief."

Steve is cute. And a polite man who values your consent was sure to receive it. You two lock gazes before one of you dared to speak again. It all feels like a blind date, and you’re two giddy young adults.

"You..." you start. “You can touch me if you’d like.”

"Really?" Steve asks. "Usually dancers don't let you do that."

"It depends who you ask," you smile. "Consent is subjective...and you have mine. C'mon."

He obliges and starts to graze your ass softly with his hands. You run his hands through his hair, then along his neck without lifting them. A muffled moan is slowly released from his mouth.

"Shit," he sputters. "Feels really good."

He tosses his head back.

"You make me feel so good."

"Aww," you grin. "Me?"

"Yeah you," his voice is deeper now. Huskier. "All because of you."

His hand moves upwards towards your bra and he begins to fiddle with the straps, and then the clasps. You continue your steady grinding, rolling your hips to the beat of the music, tossing your head back for the full effect while Steve holds back the urge to cup your perfect breasts in his kneady hands.

A whimper escapes Steve’s mouth when you find the sweet place to roll, resting a palm over his abdomen for leverage.

“Needy, are we?” you tease him. “Needy for me, Stevie?”

“So fucking needy,” he breathes, a nervous gulp swallowing another sneaky groan. “You’re gonna be the death of me, woman.”

I’ve got my heart right here, I’ve got my scars right here.

Suddenly, you cease the grinding, going from cowgirl to reverse. Grabbing a hold of both his knees with the back of both your hands, you sink down to the floor, knees bent, slightly out turned. Your hands move from his knees to encompass his elbows, accommodating the playful headlock he abruptly decided to have you in, watching you squat down beneath him.

“Mmm,” he hums. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby.”

His arms creep from the sides of your face to the front of your face. You crane your head upwards, peering up at him and refrain from shivering when he brings an arm across your neck. His other hand rests on your face, stroking it tenderly.

“Get up here and, ride my thighs again, please.” he pleads. “It was feeling so good.”

“Okay,” you oblige before standing back up.

“Before you do though, let me get a good look at your ass.”

You stand there for him, bending down ever so slightly so he could run his hands across your back. He grabs a fist full of your hair gently with one hand and strokes your ass cheek with the other.

"Wow," Steve hums as he runs his fingers along the birth mark on your lower back. "I like this birthmark."

"Yeah?" you say. "Some people have said it looks like a tramp stamp."

"It's cute," Steve insists, pulling you onto his lap. “It kinda looks like a bat."

He points to where the wings would be and the fangs and you laugh. No one's admired your tramp stamp-esque birthmark the way Steve did.

"Thanks," you reply. "My brother has a matching one."

You pause.

"Sorry, that didn't sound all that sexy."

Steve tosses his head back and chuckles, hand resting firmly on your ass again. "You look sexy talking regardless, so I don’t mind.”

The chemistry between you and Steve feels so natural. You know if your nurturing heart felt like this with all clients you would be in big trouble. This profession isn’t for everyone and you realize that. But you decide to realize everything else later. Meanwhile, your focus right now is pleasing Steve.

You resume the thigh riding per his request, and chase your own subtle high as you did so. Steve whimpers and whines, seeming to long for you even more with every stroke of his hair, every brush against his cheek, every steady and calculated grind against his—

"Woah, are you okay?"

Suddenly you’re cut off by Steve abruptly pushing you off his lap. When you peer over at him, his face has gone completely red.

Did you do something wrong? Did you violate a boundary? Millions of thoughts race through your head. You can’t get fired on the first day of your new job…

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, I just..." Steve stammers, flushing a deeper red hue with every word. “I... uh, kinda came in my pants."

"Oh..." you begin.

"I am so sorry," Steve sighs. "Embarrassed is an understatement. I’m such a loser.”

You two start frantically talking over each other, one extremely apologetic, another sympathetic to the concerns. Again, it’s like you two are clumsy young adults on a blind date set up by your bold friends.

"It's been a while... so..." Steve stammers.

"Steve," you stop him.

"And..." he cuts out.

"It's okay," you reassure him. “It’s okay, Steve. If you need a break, we can stop.”

“Sounds good,” he agrees with a resigned sigh, the red colored flush migrating to his ears. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You go to put your cloak back on again and strut towards the gin. Perhaps offering the man a drink would help loosen up his nerves.

"What should we do with the allotted time left?" Steve wonders eyes following you. He’s rubbing his knees anxiously with his palms. “Eddie has this room booked for an hour. He needs to think you're doing splits on my dick or something or else he won't be satisfied."

Laughter erupts from the deepest parts of your belly at Steve's comment. Steve can't help but laugh as well.

"Hm, we can wait a bit and I can give you another lap dance?” you suggest. “Or a strip tease?"

You weren't used to those words coming out of your mouth, so you attempted to make it sound as normal as possible. Wow, you really just gave a lap dance. And someone came from it.

"Do you think..." Steve inquires. "That we can just... talk?"

----

So you and Steve do exactly that. You talk about your families, and your aspirations, your deepest fears, and your core values. Steve Harrington isn’t the loser he thinks he is. He’s a really cool guy. But deeply misunderstood.

“So you and your brother have similar birthmarks?” Steve questions.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Except his is on his belly. We literally took the term identical twins to a whole new level.”

He laughs.

“Your brother sounds cool.”

“He was.”

Steve gasps in astonishment.

“Oh, my god. I’m sorry. Is he…”

“He’s not dead. Just an asshole.”

The color returns to his face. He exhales steadily and shakes his head. You find his reaction funny, despite how twisted that made you sound.

“Dead to you though?”

“Pretty much,” you giggle. “Dead to me.”

You two do a cheers to that with your alcohol-filled glasses and take another painful sip. It burns.

“Tell me about yourself now,” you prompt him.

There’s a dramatic pause.

“Well,” Steve begins. “I’m an only child. So eyes have been on me for as long as I can remember. What’s Stevie up to? This is what we expect of him and this is what happens if he’s not what we make him out to be. It didn’t take til young adulthood to realize that I have been living in my parents’ shadow. I don’t even know what I like.”

Steve spurs on about how he has struggled with his identity, going back and forth between if what he was pursuing was a desire of his or his parents’.

“And for a while I thought I knew who Steve was. Until I lost myself again in a girl named Nancy.”

“Aw,” you pout.

“A girl,” Steve pauses waiting for you to catch on. “Named Nancy.”

Your eyes widen. “House Mom Nancy?!”

Steve nods as you slowly piece things together.

“So Jonathan’s girlfriend is your…”

“Ex girlfriend,” Steve confirms. “Small world, huh?”

You suppose it wasn’t good that Hawkins is so small. You’d hate for someone to recognize you when you’re taking a casual stroll outside.

Nonetheless, you push that concern to the side and continue your conversation with Steve.

“What happened?”

“Some petty high school shit,” he explains. “But it’s always been her. She made me a better me. The closest to Steve that I’ve ever felt.”

“Wow,” you say. “So you saw a future with her?”

“Marriage, kids, everything,” Steve confirms. “Then she decided I wasn’t what — who — she wanted.”

It’s silent for a while. Steve shakes his head bitterly and downs the rest of his drink. You slosh yours around waiting for him to speak again. Besides, if you did, you’d end up ugly crying about your ex. And no one wants their stripper trauma dumping on them when they’re supposed to be performing.

Thankfully, Steve is the first to speak again.

“Yeah, Nance. She looks… she looks happy,” he turns to you with dismal eyes. “I don’t ever wanna get in the way of that.”

“Do you ever see her here?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, she’s in the back being House Mom, making sure all the girls are taken care of and all that. And I’m sure she doesn’t come up front because she knows Eddie has been trying to play wingman.”

You chuckle. “With a stripper?”

“With anyone,” Steve chuckles. “God that sounds awful. I sound like a loser.”

“Would you stop saying that?” you snap. “You are not a loser, Steve.”

“I know I’m not a loser. Just feel like it sometimes. Especially when it dawns on you that you’ve been living life for other people.”

“I kinda know how you feel.”

You two lock eyes again. Steve rests a hand on top of yours, intertwining your fingers briefly before he begins playing with each of your fingers one by one.

"I guess…going back to the previous topic…” he proceeds. “If I could change anything about myself, I would've done more of what Steve wants to do. Not what Todd and Marsha want Steve to do. Or what Tommy H. and Carol want Steve to do. Because maybe then Nancy and I would’ve been endgame. Or maybe Allison. Possibly Tammy? Who knows? See? Everyone’s world but Steve’s.”

"Steve," you start. "I hope you realize that I have no idea who any of these people are. It’s kinda hard to keep up.”

"And that is such a relief to hear that," he sighs again, this time in exasperation. "I just feel so free talking about them to someone who doesn't know who they are. Hawkins is small, you know. And it’s good that the only bias you can form is in my favor since you only know of me."

You offer him a consoling pat atop the hand, to which he responds by leaning his head on your shoulder. With how tender everything has been with Steve, there’s a temptation to plant a delicate kiss on his forehead. But you stop yourself.

"I'd like to know you, know you, though,” you find yourself saying.

He gazes up at you. You two smile at each other.

“I’d like to know you more too, Shy Girl,” he answers. “If you’d let me.”

“Duh, it’s what I just said.”

He chuckles. “You’re not saying that for the tips?”

“No. Just human to human.”

You stroke his cheek longingly, running your hand along his stubble.

"It's also been a while since I've gotten laid too," you admit. "And I've got a lot of pent up stress I need to release. You seem like a trustworthy person to do that with.”

The energy changes. Steve’s grip on your hand tightens.

"Oh yeah?" He rubs your thumb with his and soon you find yourselves holding hands.

"Yeah.”

“Sounds like we have a deal then, Shy Girl.”

Before Steve gets any ideas, you interrupt him.

“I don't wanna have sex at work," you admit. "Especially not on the clock."

"Oh, yeah I didn’t think it’d be now. Some people do find that hot though.”

"It's my first day. I can’t disappoint Eddie this early in the game.”

"You're kidding."

You shake your head.

"Wow, I would've thought you've been doing this a while."

You blush. "Thank you. But nope, you’re my Guinea pig.”

Steve continues to gawk in amazement. Then he reaches for his wallet, grabbing a huge wad of Benjamin Franklins and handing it to you.

"Tell you what," Steve bargains. "You buy yourself something nice, get your bills paid, and come through in a couple days. The roomie won't be home so we'll have the place to ourselves. We can get takeout or something too. Whatever makes you comfortable, of course.”

You bite your lip. "I'd like that."

“Good. I’d like that too.”

———-

"So, how was it?" you hear Eddie ask Steve.

"Dude...I just about creamed my pants," he says as you hold back laughter. "You got yourself a good one."

"Nothing's ever too TMI for you, Harrington," Eddie says. "But thanks for the imagery."

"Yeah. I gotta get going now. I got laundry to put away at home. It's been piling so much I think it's going to tip over."

“Roger,” Eddie says before bidding him goodbye. “Oh, speaking of which, did you tip her good?”

“You bet I did. Woman like her needs to be spoiled rotten.”

————

You make your way back to the dressing room after saying bye to Steve and finishing the flats Argyle had specially made for you. At your locker, you subtly attempt to count the hundreds Steve gave you for his lap dance and talk session. The man left you 10 of them. A whole band.

You were stunned. What did King Steve do for a living anyways? It didn’t matter to you. You had enough for groceries, gas, and a portion of your rent, all earned in an hour’s work, and all yours to keep as Eddie insisted.

The realization makes your heart skip a beat. You and your sister were good for the next few weeks.

Knock, knock.

“Don’t freak out ladies, it’s just me!” Eddie shouts from the other side of the door. “Put your cloaks on I’m coming in!”

You watch as the girls scurry to get their covers back on. The amount of respect Eddie has for his dancers is insane. Perhaps it’s common decency but it was such a striking difference than what you were used to. It warmed your heart in a way, but also made you sad. You deserved this respect all your life.

When Eddie finds you, he starts towards you, a look of approval spread wide across his face. As deeply as you wanted it to be because he found you attractive, you infer that it’s because you’re bringing in good business — and that you’re good, given a small amount of experience with the pole.

You two are face to face now. Eddie speaks up first.

“Steve, uh,” he says. “Steve really likes you.”

“Oh really?” you smile. “I’m glad.”

“You’re just a natural, Shy Girl,” he compliments you. “Everyone’s just raving about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Based on what I’ve seen so far and what Stevie told me, yeah,” he confirms. “But I guess it’s no surprise. Shy girls are almost always the freakiest, huh?”

You try not to laugh while you’re witnessing the imagination of your boss running in the complete opposite direction of what really happened between you and Steve. Nevertheless, you let him. You didn’t mind taking up space in your dashing boss’s mind.

“You should come to work a little early next time you’re on,” Eddie says. “I’d like to take you to lunch.”

Heat spreads across your cheeks. “Really?”

“‘Course! I do it with all my dancers as a welcome thing. I’d like to know more about you. You’re more than just a pretty face and someone who simply works for me.”

‘I do it with all my dancers.’

Your heart sinks. Back to square one.

Eddie clears his throat.

“Anyway,” he says. “I’m gonna head out now. Gonna go see the lady friend. I’ve got Johnny boy, Argyle, and Henry holding down the fort.”

The tinge in your heart intensifies.

“Oh, sounds fun!”

“Yeah, I rarely see her cuz she bartends. Even though we work similar hours we work opposite days. But she got first cut tonight so I’m heading over.”

“Have fun, Eddie.”

“I sure will,” Eddie says. “Goodnight, Shy Girl.”

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

Eddie soon disappears out of sight and now your shift seems ten times longer. Regardless, you stuff your tips into your tote bag and prepare to meander around the club, enticing other bachelors for a dance.

Without Eddie around, it seems less exciting.

“Doing it for Max,” you remind yourself while fixing your hair in the mirror in front of you.

You reach for your phone to see the amount of time that has transpired since the private show with Steve. But the clock wasn’t your concern when your Home Screen lights up.

Your heart nearly sinks to the floor.

Billy Hargrove

1 Missed Call

Billy Hargrove

iMessage: 1 message

You open it.

What the actual fuck.

#the babyboyification of steve harrington #daddy eddie #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson smut #Steve #steve harrington #Steve harrington smut #Steve and reader #Eddie and trader

[hannie-dul-set]

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [2].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst if you squint, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, multiple instances where personal space is invaded HAHAHHA, the boys are very dramatic please understand their yearning hearts. WORD COUNT. 4.5k.

NOTE. woohoo! next chapter to this shitshow! some parts may be a bit confusing and vague....sometimes ominous....but all will be known in due time HAHAHHA (may be tempted to give a spoiler or two if u ask). hope you enjoy! please let me know what you think of this chapter and the story so far!

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 2 — these meet-cutes aren’t cute at all.

YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO READ LIPS. But you don’t need to know how to get the idea that Taehyun is shooting an insult at you right now. His face says it all. “I said you look like hell,” he repeats after you’ve removed your headphones, the music still leaking out even after you’ve settled it down the cemented table. 

“Taehyun’s right,” Gaeul pipes in, and Woohyun seconds it. “You look like crap. What did you do last night?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you grunt, melting into the table. The sound of Yeong-Il’s Second Life is still just barely playing in the background thanks to your loud as fuck headphones volume. “We finished our exams. Of course I stayed up until six in the morning watching dramas.”

Three disappointed stares and one of full respect. “Dude, you’re crazy,” says Huening. “What did you watch? Night Has Come? My Demon? You should’ve invited me. I feel betrayed.”

“Both,” you reply, but you don’t seem all too happy after consuming over twenty episodes worth of dopamine. You’re frowning. You slam a fist down the table and let out a groan. “But they don’t fill the Choi Soobin shaped hole in my heart— fuck! Why isn’t he getting employed? Why hasn’t he been posting on his Insta? It’s been six months since his last drama. I miss him already.”

Huening’s attempts to console you consist of a few pats on your back. Gaeul’s attempt is a lot more effective. “Didn’t you win a slot to Choi Yeonjun’s fansign this weekend? Aren’t you coming?” You spring up with a gasp. “Girl, don’t tell me you forgot.”

“I did! I fucking forgot because I have a deadline on the same fucking day, fuck! I want to die. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Are you still going?” asks Woohyun.

“Of course she is! Deadlines come ten times a week, but the chance to meet Choi Yeonjin comes one in a million!” Gaeul exclaims, then grabs you by the shoulders with a very serious look on her face, as if she wasn’t just disappointed that you sacrificed sleep just to watch a bunch of dramas. “Tell him I’m in love with him. No, wait, I need to tell him that in person. Tell him to wait for me. I’ll get in next time for sure.”

You whine out something that sounds like an agreement. “I haven’t prepared an outfit yet. This is so depressing. Gaeul, help me.”

Taehyun, who doesn’t share any of your unhealthy fixations, still hasn’t crawled out from his state of disappointed concern. “Just make sure you don’t miss your Saturday deadline,” he says. You roll your eyes in response.

“This is me you’re talking to. I may not seem like it, but I have my shit together. You don’t have to worry.”

They hate to admit it, but it’s true.

Your friends have always wondered how you managed to balance your hellish course load, your evening shifts at The Grind, and your hobby of fangirling over pretty and good looking men. The only reason you were able to binge two dramas until daylight is because you’ve finished all your midterm requirements before taking your exams, and you’ll definitely be able to attend the fansign because you’ll somehow finish a thirty-page paper in one day, in between classes and your work shifts.

They’re quite convinced you’re insane. The lifeless look in your eyes as you flit through your flashcards to review for a recitation later is a testament to that insanity.

But sometimes, a little spark of life manages to slip through.

Like right now, as you check a notification in your phone in the middle of reviewing.

“Shit, fuck, shit— oh my god. Yeong-Il dropped an interview, fuck, hold on—”

“Whoa, really?’ Woohyun digs his nose next to you. You guys have a graded recitation in thirty minutes, and you’re walking to the classroom with a blank face zeroed in at your phone screen in landscape instead of the flashcards you have now tossed away into your bag, paying no mind to your surroundings to the point that Gael and Huening have to make sure you’re still walking in the right direction.

Taehyun isn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned. They can’t even tell you off because they know you’ll somehow find the answers to Prof Yang’s questions anyway.

APPARENTLY, THERE’S A CAR ACCIDENT OUT FRONT. On top of having a tiring day of rehearsals and the interview with Beomgyu exposing his delusions on the internet being dropped earlier (they didn’t edit it out, those rats), Yeong-Il isn’t having a good day, so it’s to no one’s surprise the the tension inside their van on the way back to their dorms is rather palpable.

Beomgyu, however, doesn’t feel said tension. Or maybe he just doesn’t care because he’s closing his eyes, ready to nap while all the rest of the vehicles surrounding theirs are honking their horns, and while Jeongin and Jimin are monitoring the interview on a phone. The part where Beomgyu talks about his alleged first love comes up. “Beomgyu,” Heeseung groans, covering his ears with a neck pillow. “Did you really have to say all that?”

“Ahh, quit nagging. No one’s even taking it seriously,” he grumbles, arms crossed and turning over his body to face the window instead of his bandmates.

“Yeah, people are just raving about how romantic Beomgyu is,” says Jimin.

“And making edits of him and Heeseung,” adds Jeongin. “They’re mistaking your stressed-out glances at Beomgyu as signs of unrequited love—”

Heeseung shoves a hand against Jeongin’s face to shut him up. “Still. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.”

“Nyenye. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.” 

They’re friendly as usual. Heeseung can’t put in the last word because Beomgyu has completely transformed into a sleeping position— yet he can’t seem to sleep and rest despite being absolutely fucked out and tired. He lets out a groan, squirming in the car seat. “Ugh.” The car still isn’t moving. The road is still a mess. All he wants is to rest as soon as possible, and he can’t even have that. All he wants is to see you again as soon as possible, and he’s starting to feel like he can’t have that as well.

Beomgyu gives up. He begrudgingly opens his eyes and looks at the state of the traffic out the window. It’s getting dark. Streetlights are being lit up one after the other, and he watches people moving faster than the frozen cars, like the road and the sidewalk are on two separate spaces of time.

A thought enters his head. What are the chances that you’ll be one of the people walking along the sidewalk right now?

“They’re making way for an ambulance.”

It’s a fruitlessly hopeful thought, he knows. It’s a silly possibility to entertain. But still. He can’t help but examine each of the faces passing by in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, his wish from four-hundred years ago will finally fucking come true. 

“Damn, when are we getting home?”

Right when Beomgyu gives up hoping and tries to fall back asleep again, he spots a familiar face walking down the sidewalk. Wait a minute—

“Man, this sucks.”

He jolts up, There’s no way. There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize that expression— stone-cold, looking as if the very thing in front of you is a worthless bug waiting to be stepped on, warding away any possible attempts of anyone bothering you. There are no knives in your hands, but a phone and a paper bag. You’re not adorned in the blue, red, white, and gold like he’s used to, but a large coat draped over your shoulders.

Still. Even if your face is covered by a mask, or if you’ve inhabited the body of a completely different person.

“Beomgyu, wanna play are round when we get—”

There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize you.

Looks like the chances are high after all.

“Beomgyu?!”

The van door slides open. Beomgyu feels the cold air hitting his face as he rushes in between the gaps of the traffic-saddled cars and the spaces in between. He hears Heeseung and Jeongin and Jimin calling after him but he doesn’t give a shit. Not now. Not when he’s sure he finally has you within reach, closing in the gap between you before you can disappear into a corner. Not when all he has to do is stretch out his hand, breath caught in his throat and heart racing, and pull you by the arm so you can turn around and look at him.

And you do.

Your phone crashes to the ground, and you’re looking at him like you want to punch him in the face. Beomgyu’s heart skips a beat.

“What the hell?!”

“It’s you.”

Beomgyu watches your brows knit together, your mouth falling into a sneer. It’s like looking into a time machine. Holy shit. 

“It’s really you.”

That look of annoyance. There’s no denying it. Night has fallen. The only thing illuminating your face is a single streetlight hanging above, but he’d be stupid to mistake you for anyone else. The arm that shakes his hold off is yours. The eyes that are glaring at him— sharp as knives— are yours, yours, and yours alone and he can get lost in them for hours on end. “The fuck? Do I know—” 

Your name falls from his lips for the first time in centuries. It’s always been blurry, always at the tip of his tongue the moment his memories from four-hundred years ago came crashing back to him like a storm. But now, it comes off naturally the moment he sees you. It rolls off his tongue like it’s the only thing he was ever meant to sing.

He says your name once more. Your eyes widen in alarm.

“Are you a stalker?”

“I love you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I love you,” he repeats, breathless. “My biggest regret was failing to tell you how much I loved when I still had the chance.”

“What the fuck? What are you—”

Beomgyu reaches out for your hands, tugging you closer. Your skin burns him. Warm. Alive. “Now that I’ve been given that chance, I’m not letting go of you anymore.” He pauses, practicing the words inside his head before saying, “Let’s get married.” 

“What?!”

“I love you. I missed you. Let’s get married right now.”

You don’t say anything. You’re silent. Beomgyu feels his stomach wrench and drop and hurt all the way to his chest and lungs because why—

Why are you looking at him like that? 

“I’m going to call the fucking cops.” Once again, you shove him off, pulling your hands back and pressing them close to your chest. “There’s a crazy fucking bastard on the— shit! My phone! The screen is cracked, gosh! I haven’t even finished paying for it, for fuck’s sake, you have to— ex—excuse me, are you crying? Are you actually crying? What the hell?”

Beomgu’s vision is cloudy and his cheeks are wet. He knows you’ve always been spunky. You’ve always had an attitude and you two didn’t start off on the right foot, either. But why are you acting like you don’t know him? Like he’s some sort of fucking stranger? 

“Hey, I should be the one crying right now! You broke my phone! What is wrong with—”

“There you are!”

Suddenly, he doesn’t see you anymore. Heeseung’s voice comes crashing in and he gets shoved aside, eyes stinging and mind still in a daze. “I’m so, so sorry for my friend over here. We can’t pay for the damages right away, but please take this. Again, we’re so sorry! Hope you have a great night, still!”

No. He can’t let you slip away again. Not when he can finally hold you in his arms like all the countless times he hasn’t. “Dude, what are you doing?!” Heeseung yanks him back before he can run after you down the sidewalk. “Quit being weird. Why the hell are you crying?”

Beomgyu is having a hard time understanding. He’s not sure if he can’t, or if he simply doesn’t want to believe this— but your eyes don’t lie. He can tell if you’re annoyed by him just by looking at you. He can tell if you’re angry, regretful, elated, or drunk from the onslaught of his affections, so this time— he can clearly tell as well.

He can tell just from the look in your eyes that you don’t remember him.

That all those years of waiting for you was all for naught.

SOOBIN KNOWS THAT HE SHOULDN’T BE HERE RIGHT NOW. He knows that he’s supposed to be on a diet, and he knows that he has a photo shoot for a magazine this weekend. He even got rid of his stash of instant ramyeon because of that, deleted all those delivery apps because this’ll be his first schedule after a few months of taking a break.

But he is here, at one in the morning, in between the isles of the 7-Eleven nearest to his apartment building, because cravings sometimes trump rationality, and god he sure is craving for a cup of noodles. Or two. Two sounds good. And since he’s already here, might as well put a pack of milk bread in his basket. A can of Sprite too. Manager Lee is gonna kill him, but at least he’ll die full and satisfied.

“Hey, hold the door open for me.”

“Don’t you have hands?”

“Nice! They have empty seats outside. Waiting here. Buy me some donuts.”

Ah, shit. Soobin pulls his hood over his head and readjusts his mask. Sounds like a group coming in. He should pay later once the store’s emptier— meaning, he has no choice but to browse for more snacks to add to his basket. Totally not because he wants to, no. 

“Why’d you bring your laptop all the way here? You can continue working in Woohyung’s apartment.”

“Yeah, girl. There’s still a lot of time before the deadline.”

Soobin doesn’t want to eavesdrop, but the voices are talking pretty loudly. He’s dropping a few packets of yakgwa cookies into his basket while listening to a group of college students mourning about their courses. Good thing he chose not to pursue tertiary education. 

“I need to finish this as soon as possible if I want to attend the fucking fansign. Crap, I should’ve switched majors when I had the chance.”

He abruptly stops snack surfing. Wait. Pause. Hold on.

“Should’ve done that before junior year.”

“I know. Shut up. Get me a popsicle, please. Chocolate. Thank you.”

That voice—

“They ran out. Only strawberry or melon. Pick one”

“That’s fucking balls.”

“You’re so eloquent.”

“Suck my fucking dick.”

Okay. Nevermind. It’s kinda weird to hear a voice that sounds eerily similar to the love of his life’s saying so much obscenities. You only spoke pretty words to him before, so maybe he’s just tripping. There’s no way you’d swear so much, so he continues browsing the snack aisle. Maybe he just misses you so much that he’s starting to mistake a similarly sounding voice as yours and subconsciously letting his hopes up.

“Hyun, by the way. I forgot to mention. I met a Choi Beomgyu lookalike last night on the way home from work. It was fucking wild.”

Then again, he thinks, arm paused hovering above a bag of chips. People didn’t really say suck my fucking dick in Joseon era.

Soobin stops filling his basket and starts moving out of the aisle, following the sound of your voice.

“I almost fell in love on the spot, but the guy wasn’t right in the head, I think.” Closer. You’re starting to sound closer. “He knew my name. He kept acting like he knew me and asked me to fucking marry him? I even dropped my phone because he scared the shit out of me. I don’t know, it was wild.”

Where? Where are you?

“Dude, really? No way.”

“I’m serious! I’m telling you—”

Where the hell are you?

“I even got a card from his friend when he dragged the Beomgyu clone away. I have it here, take a loo— wait. Wait. Isn’t BH the agency that manages Yeong-Il? Am I wrong— oh, sorry!”

There you are.

There’s a stain on his hoodie. Bright pink. It matches the popsicle you’re holding, the varsity jacket you’re wearing, and the color painting his cheeks because you’re right in front of him. You’re actually right in front of him right now— face flushed with panic, eyes rapidly blinking. “Are—are you Choi Soobin?” someone says. Not you. You’re still profusely apologizing while trying to wipe away the stain with your jacket sleeve.

“That’s ridiculous, Huening. Go get me some tissues! I’m so, so sorry, oh gosh. I should’ve been paying more attention.”

You’re here. It’s actually you. His heart is racing. He can’t fucking breathe. He’s not sure if he should cry, scream, or all of the above.

But there’s something different. There’s something wrong.

“I can tell Choi Soobin from a picture of his ear! I’m telling you it’s him!” Your attention is pulled away by your companion tugging on your arm. “You’re Choi Soobin, right?! Jipuragi? Figured Obscurity?”

“Dude, you’re making him uncomfortable! Why in the world would Choi Soobin be—”

Soobin pulls down his mask, tugging on its fabric. When you turn back to look at him, your popsicle drops to the ground and you let out a gasp.

Your eyes are shining. You’re beaming. You do recognize him. You do know him.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m such a big fan.”

Just not in the way he was hoping for.

“Y—yeah. Would you like a picture?”

You let out a squeal. So does your friend. This isn’t how Soobin expected his reunion with you to go about. This is wrong. He had it all planned in his head like a screenplay, and all that was left was to execute it without fail.

The moment he sees you, he was supposed to spin you around and hear your laughter fluttering in the air. He was supposed to hold you in his arms and give you the first kiss he’d been saving in this life because he’s been waiting for you all this time, yearning for years and years to give you the life he wasn’t able to in the past. To make up for everything you missed because in this life— there’s no class system to keep you apart. There’s nothing stopping him from loving you out in the open.

He didn’t expect to give you his autograph and take a fan selca with you after years of waiting.

This is so wrong. This is so freaking wrong.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” who he assumes is your friend says, and you’re smiling so, so brightly while looking at the photo of you and him that everything he wishes to say and profess and confess just lodges in his throat, blocking everything in its path.

“Thank you! Don’t worry, we won’t post this anywhere,” you say. Soobin holds back the inhuman urge to tell you why settle for a photo, when you can have him instead?

“S—sure. Anytime.”

“Ah, we should probably give you some privacy now. Huening, stop gawking! Anyway, fighting! We’re looking forward to your upcoming dramas!”

Just like that, you leave. You walk out of the store and join the rest of your friends outside, and he sees you showing off the signature he left on your receipt from the window, when he could give you so much more than that, when you could show off that you already own his entire heart. This...this really isn’t how he wanted to reunite with you. And the underlying reason for it something he doesn’t want to entertain.

“YEONJUN, YOU’RE UP IN TEN,” says a staff member. It’s the last week of promotions, and Yeonjun is getting his hair and makeup retouched one last time before he’s set to go uponstage to open the fansign. His manager tells him not to do anything stupid, or scandalous, or all of the above onstage— an almost everyday reminder that Yeonjun, more often than not, isn’t interested in listening to.

“Noona, you should trust me more,” he reacts, a slight whine in his tone. Manager Kim’s expression is nothing but dubious.

“At the very least warn me before you do something insane so I can prepare.”

“Will do,” Yeonjun grins, and his manager waves him off. Screams erupt the moment he emerges from behind the stage curtains, and everything else just comes naturally for Choi Yeonjun— not needing to second guess when he blows a kiss mid-performance, stirs the crowd with a comment or two, and making sure that all eyes are on him, almost as if he was born on every stage he steps foot on.

And to think he started this career without any desire for stardom.

Now, there’s nothing he desires more than blinding lights and the visceral sounds of cheers.

“A—ah, hello!” 

Well. There is one thing.

“Crap, I—I’m so nervous I don’t think I can breathe.”

“Oh no,” replies Yeonjun to the fan sitting before him, marker in hand as he flips open the tabbed page on the nth album splayed out on the table. “Should I give you CPR to help you start breathing again?” 

The girl lets out something sort of a squeal. He grins out a laugh and asks for her name and if she’s eaten anything yet.

“Thank you! Oh— oh, wait, one more thing—”

“Next!”

It’s a fast paced rotation. It always is. But Yeonjun uses the split second before the next person carousels in front of him to make a quick scan across the people lining up, across the people waiting in the audience seats, clinging onto the sliver of probability that this may finally be the day where his years of yearning for the ghost of past can finally end— well overdue for god knows how long already. 

He reuses and rehashes the same lines, same dialogue, and same greetings for the next person, and the next person, and the next and the next and the next. It’s just one face after another. Not that he’s bored, or unappreciative of the fans that spent their time (and truckloads of money) to see him. But it’s human to feel a sense of disappointment when the face he wants to see doesn't turn up after the fifth, tenth, seventh, hundredth, thousand, nth face, fansign after a fansign.

“Next.”

His wrist is getting sore, back is getting tired, but Yeonjun readies himself for another round of mindless chat, missing the opportunity to do his routine scans when he closes his eyes to roll back his shoulders. 

“Oh.”

Yeonjun hears the voice in front of him say. It’s a singular syllable, not even a word, but it’s enough to snap him wide awake.

“Oh my gosh,” you say again. Yeonjun doesn’t feel his fingertips. “You’re even prettier up close, whoa, this is crazy.”

He’s frozen. The usual ments and words and lines that usually flow naturally off his tongue don’t come. His brain is empty. The ink from his marker seeps into the album page underneath his numb hands. He hears his manager say something, but his manager’s voice is so far away— so, so, so far away, but the face he;s been yearning for in his memories is now, all of a sudden and without warning, within an arm’s reach, right before his eyes.

The marker stumbles out of his grasp. If Yeonjun reaches an arm out right now—

“U—uh.”

—he’d be able to touch your face.

“O—oh, holy shit, okay so we’re doing this now.”

And he is. The very feeling of your soft skin, unchanged from the feeling stored in the capsules of his memories, burns stronger than the adrenaline he feels when he’s onstage under the spotlight.

It’s real. You’re real.

You’re right in front of him right now.

“Choi Yeonjun, what the hell are you doing?!”

The hiss of his manager from behind is ignored when he suddenly springs up from behind the table, and you let out a yelp when he drags you up along with him. He’s holding both of your hands, thumbs brushing over the ridges of your knuckles before pulling them closer to his chest. There’s whispering in the background, along with the snaps and flashes of the numerous cameras littered everywhere in the venue.

“Yeonjun.”

He pays no mind to them. Instead he brings up your hands to his face and presses a kiss onto your knuckles. 

There’s a scream and gasp and a yell coming from somewhere. 

“I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

But all he’s focused on is the swirls in your widened eyes, dizzy and taken aback, voiceless with your mouth hanging open. Yeonjun furrows his brows. “Why don’t you look happy to see me, my love?” You hack out a hard cough and Yeonjun drops your hands in surprise. “What’s— what’s wrong?” he stammers, leaning forward and closing into your face while you turn away from him, digging more unease into his bones because this...this doesn’t seem right.

“Sh—shit, I think I need to sit down, oh my god,” he hears you say, and it hits him. Yes. You were never good at expressing your affection. Yes, yes. Perhaps you’re just overtaken by a surge of emotions, that your appearance looks like that of constipated confusion of trepidation as a result of being overwhelmed by the fact that you’re so in love with him and that you’re happy to see him again.

Yes. That must be it. You’re both sat back down, and he scribbles something on your now ink-stained album. “Next.” And when you’re just about to bow and leave, he says your name— one that he thought he’s forgotten— and you freeze.

“Why do you look so surprised?” he laughs. “There’s no need to be shy. Should I kiss you again to ease your— ack!”

“Next! Next person!” 

Suddenly, you’re being scurried away. “No, wait!” he yells out, but the moment he tries to get up again, he’s jerked right back.

His manager is holding the back of his collar, and you’re disappearing into the crowd. Was…was Manager Kim always this strong? He can’t even budge, can’t even run after you after he’d finally been reunited with you again.

“Choi Yeonjun, that’s enough!”

He blinks, remembering belatedly just where he is right now.

There’s still a line of people waiting for him. Yeonjun drops back to his seat, his manager losing her grip on his shirt, and he brings himself back after a round of inhales and exhales. It’s alright, he thinks to himself. It’s gonna work out. “Sorry about that,” he hums, smiling at a now different face sitting in front of him. “What did you tell me your name was?”

You’ve been separated from him yet again, but this time it’s fine. He’s not anxious. He’s certain that it won’t take centuries for you to return to each other, no— it won’t be long until then because this time, he’s not dead. 

You’re both still alive at this point in time.

And that enough assures him that he’s going to find his way back to you.

“Next!”

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

#txt x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #choi soobin x reader #choi yeonjun x reader #tomorrow x together x reader #txt x you #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #beomgyu x reader #choi soobin x you #choi beomgyu x you #choi yeonjun x you #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt imagines #txt scenarios

[vulnonapix1234]

The lack of cursed Tim Drake stories/aus is honestly unbelievable.

He grew up in a house full of Archeological findings, mostly alone without any adult supervision.

Anyway. I have one that isn't as angsty as it could be, in which he doesn't get cursed out of maliciously, but because of kindness.

The curse was held in a wolf statue and gifted him the ability to turn into one. But only if his emotions get out of hand. Be it happiness, fear, or anger.

So he trained himself to control his emotions, as his wolf side was quite handy for his bird-watching hobby.

(He also ends up with quite the resting bitch face because of this. It also helped him a lot as Robin)

But he also needs to shift from time to time or else he'll get... a bit irrational.

Then he becomes Robin and Bruce, the best detective in the world, has no idea about his true nature.

The only people that know are Alfred, Cass, and Jason.

Alfred found out on one of his "check ins" With Tim. He used to visit him daily with an nice lunch packet to make sure he was alright and the first time he did, Tim was so surprised that he spawned tail and puppy ears.

Cass is his cuddle buddy. They are like siblings and love each other. Tim is also aware that someone must know. For case of emergency.

Jason wanted to cripple his replacement and got body checked by an overgrown puppy. Like Tim got so happy that his packmate was still alive that he couldn't control himself. The shook was enough to snap him out of the pit madness

(Jason: does dad know?

Tim: dad?

Jason: I meant Bruce.

Tim: ew. That's my boss.)

The rest of the batfamily doesn't know, but is still influenced by his ferral wild side.

Mostly Damian. Because Tim can't take this tiny Puppy seriously. He is a baby and part of his Pack. Tim also doesn't get that he is trying to murder him. He seriously thinks that Damian is initiating play fights and he, as a good big brother, indulges in it. These playfights are actually pretty good for Damian.

It helps with his murderous tendencies and it became more playing than fighting quickly.

These Play Fights help a lot with stress and anxiety for the both of them.

Dick isn't aware that they are playing. He seriously thinks that they dislike each other as if Tim wouldn't pull Damian into Bruces' bed whenever they had a bad patrol.

Also, his relationship with dick is a lot more open.

He gets that he sounded like a lunatic. He understands that Damian is the new pack puppy that needs to be watched 24/7.

But he also knows that his big brother loves him a lot and that he gives the best hugs. He loves him with all his heart and trusts him with his life.

Tim is protective of Duke. He is still new to the pack and the villigate life. That he patrols all alone gives him a lot of anxiety and he often follows him in wolf form. Duke thinks that he is a lost stray and always has some jerky for him.

The only person that Tim has a bit of a problem is Bruce. Because he is eternally torn between "this is a work relationship and he is my boss" and "Papa who gives me loving head pats". It's a real struggle for him.

#batfamily #Au #shifter au #tim wayne #tim drake #shifter tim drake #red robin #damian wayne #good sibling damian #robin damian #robin #damian al ghul #jason todd #red hood #titans towe au #dick grayson #nightwing #bruce wayne #batman

[darkestspring]

Reading your last post of hades x persefone and the idea of a one-shot apollo x daphne, the idea of a one-shot dealing with the abduction of Helen from Sparta came to my mind.

Jacaerys has always been in love with Aemond's sweet and innocent younger sister, so when he returns to King's Landing he kidnaps her and makes her his wife, (clearly he forces her, since she doesn't love him).

And when the royal family finds out, they don't stand for it and burn with anger. Aemond erupted like a volcano full of rage, how dare they take you, the purest and most beautiful maiden, force you to marry and lose your virginity to a bastard? Kidnap the one he loved? His sweet little sister? He would definitely make them pay with fire and blood.

This unleashes a warlike conflict, and you can decide what will be the end of this story.

Whispers had marked the dragon's court from the moment the third princess, [NAME] was born, and then whispers had erupted for years afterwards.

The young princess was a year younger than the second prince but was beloved deeply. By all except her father, the courts would retell. The king had little interest in any of his children that were not Princess Rhaenyra and yet, Princess [NAME] found solace in other things.

When her time was not spent looking for flowers to add to her collection, to be pressed, dried, and documented (a hobby that her queen mother indulged in happily), she was often found with her older brother, Aemond.

And yet, nearly everyone was aware of the strange attention that Prince Jace gave her.

How he would often find flowers and give them to her, how he would resort to acting out to get her attention when that did not work (which more often than not, led to her frowning at him with distaste as she led her brother away from him). How he would always be wherever she was.

Queen Alicent hated it but none hated it more than Prince Aemon, who had to be restrained when rumors broke out that Prince Jace had taken Princess [NAME]'s first kiss.

It had been a relief when Princess Rhaenyra moved to Dragonstone for a permanent stay, even after the incident in driftmark. Princess Rhaenyra had done all she could to attempt to secure a marriage between Princess [NAME] and her son, but Alicent would not budge, so nothing could be done.

Jace wasn't satisfied with that. [NAME] was the only girl he would ever marry, of that he was sure. He had been enchanted by her and would never take another.

But such desires were easily managed.

That was, until they came face-to-face with each other as teenagers.

Jace was taken aback by how much she had grown, with her soft, delicate features and her soft hands clutching onto her documenting journal, her third one (courtesy of her grandfather), jace swore on his deceased father, he would never let her get away.

They say that when a Targaryen loves, entire cities burn to the ground and it was true. Jace would burn the entire world to the ground, just for her. He would slaughter masses for the chance to see her smile and Daemon had noticed it immediately.

The awe ever-present in his step-son's dark eyes, how he deflated at the loss of her attention.

"If you wish for her attention," He started, gazing towards his youngest niece before looking at Jace, "Perhaps more extreme measure,"

"Like what?" Jace was on the verge of begging. What should I do? He wanted to cry. All I want is for her to look at me. He didn't care about his own desperation.

"You're a dragon," Daemon patted his shoulder. "Take what you want? What should you care about the opinions of others. Take her to dragonstone and make her your wife."

That's exactly what he did.

"I will not be held prisoner by you!" Princess [NAME] hissed at her nephew, bristling as he got closer.

Jace held her hands in his grip (his gentle grip surprised the princess as she stared at their joined hands). "Not prisoner, of course not. My wife."

That was almost worse, but she could not think of anything to say before he leaned down and kissed her, softly, and it almost made her want to cry.

She wished he would be as awful as men who held their wives captive were in books. Cruelty would give her a reason to hate him but he was gentle with her, reverence in how he treated her that made her want to cry.

"M-my mother won't stand for this! My brother's will come for me!" She hissed, yanking her hands back.

And stand for it, Queen Alicent would not. When they news broke, that Prince Jace had stolen her beloved daughter away, she collapsed to the ground and screamed a blood curdling scream, one that cried of anger and grief.

None of the Queen's other children were much better and everyone could tell the worst.

It was war.

Truly, beauty is damning.

#house of the dragon x reader #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #yandere jacaerys velaryon x reader #yandere jacaerys velaryon #yandere house of the dragon #yandere hotd #yandere hotd x reader

[flowersandbigteeth]

Your werebear mate takes you camping

I've gotten a whole bunch of requests for a sweet moment with Hugo, so this is filling a bunch of them ^_^' This is a lot gentler and fluffier than the other ones, per request :)

General Plot: Hugo wants to teach you some camping skills, so you go on a hike!

Hugo (Werebear) x Female reader

Word Count: 2.5k

W: sweet, fluffy smut, vaginal sex, outdoor sex

NSFW Masterpost <-- previous parts

“Why are we doing this again?” you griped as you smacked another mosquito off of your neck. You paused your march to spray yourself down with more bug spray.

The trees rose up around you, tall and old deep in the forest you were hiking through. Ahead of you Hugo cleared a path through the brush with his wide body, bending whatever saplings he encountered out of the way. 

“So that you can learn some survival skills,” he said cheerfully. 

He loved hiking and the great outdoors. It was one of his favorite hobbies. Usually he went by himself or with another bear from his pack, but this time he’d insisted you tag along. 

“You’d be totally helpless if you were lost in the wilderness. I’m going to teach you some things,” he went on. 

Something rustled in the brush and you skipped a bit to catch up to him and buried your hand in his fur. 

“When am I going to be lost in the wilderness?” you asked, “you gonna abandon me here?” 

A deep chuckle erupted from his lips as he snapped another sapling. 

“Of course not honey cake,” he said, “but you never know when you’ll need to know how to start a fire or set a trap. What if your plane went down in the forest and you had to survive until rescue came?” 

You let out a deep sigh, sure that would never happen. 

“Are we even allowed to be here?” you asked. 

You’d strayed from the trail long ago and now Hugo was leading you deep into the woods. Your pant legs were already shredded from brambles and the mosquitos were terrible. 

“Who knows?” he said, shrugging his massive shoulders, “but I have someplace special to show you.” 

“Is it much further?” you whined. 

“Not much,” he offered vaguely. 

While you dragged one foot in front of the other, you daydreamed about being in a nice air conditioned coffee shop with a large iced latte in your hand. 

“My legs are tired,” you pouted to Hugo, “if we don’t stop soon, I’m going to drop dead right where I’m standing.” 

You heard him laugh, before he turned to you and scooped you up in his arms. 

“I should make you walk,” he grumbled, “in a real life situation I won’t be here to carry you.” 

Giggling up at him you snuggled deeper into his arms, rubbing your face against his furry chest. 

“Good thing we’re not in a real life situation. I’d have already given up and would be eaten by wolves,” you said. 

You felt his chest rumble as he chuckled. 

“I bet you’d be delicious,” he said, pinching your bottom with the hand holding you up, “they would tell their pups stories about your tender flesh and lament that they couldn’t have it again.”

You looked up at him and narrowed your eyes. 

“Sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into this,” you said, giving him a flat laugh. 

“Don’t worry,” he snickered, “if anything is going to eat you it will be me.”  

You patted him on his furry chest and giggled, your cheeks warming a bit. Somewhere in the distance you heard rushing water, getting louder each step Hugo took closer to it. 

Finally, the trees thinned and you peaked out of Hugo’s big arms to see a beautiful waterfall. Water rushed over the many large rocks that appeared to have tumbled out of the mountain creating shelves as the water worked its way down. 

“This is beautiful, Hugo,” you gasped, taking in the lovely green foliage that crowded the fall. At the base a clear pool filled with fat fish and multicolored river rock collected ice cold water from the mountain top. 

He set you down on a rock overlooking the peaceful scene, taking the pack off of your back and started setting things up. You’d brought plenty of supplies, since Hugo could carry a lot on his back. The only thing missing was a tent, as he informed you that it would be much better to sleep underneath the stars. With him around you didn’t have to worry about predators sneaking up on you in the dark. 

When he’d organized your little camp, he started a fire. You watched him step out of the old pair of jeans he was wearing and gasped. His body never ceased to excite you. Even covered in fur, you could make out the planes of his impeccable muscles, flexing as he kicked off his pants. You swallowed a sip of water from your bottle, taking in the thick cock nestled between his thighs. It took you a moment to even question why he was undressing. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” you stammered and he shot you a predatory flash of fang. 

“I’m going to catch us some dinner,” he explained, turning away from you and wading into the water. 

The sun was already getting low in the sky, the rocky mountainside casting long shadows over your camp. You had no idea how Hugo could see, but apparently his vision was much better than yours. Curious about his technique you watched him standing stock still in the rushing water, his sharp eyes cast down. It was a testament to his size that the water just moved around him. It would have knocked you off of your feet in a second, but Hugo stood like a statue. Then he was a blur, striking the water with his large hands. A second later he tossed a thick fish next to you on the ground. 

You jumped, surprised and hurried to capture the fish before it flopped back in the water. Comically grasping the fish as it thrashed in your hands, all you could think to do was walk a few steps away from the water’s edge and shove it in the pot you’d brought to cook with and stick the top on. 

Not sure what to do with the first fish, you certainly weren’t sure what to do with the three more Hugo tossed at you. When he finally got out of the water, he shook it out of his fur like a dog. He shot you a big smile as you tried to wrestle the other fish that were gasping for air. 

“Come here,” he said, taking one of the fish from you and scooping up the other two, “I’ll show you how to dress them. 

After that gross lesson, he put the cleaned fish on sticks, propping them over the fire. 

You sat down next to Hugo, cuddling into his warmth as the temperature dropped. The sun was already behind the mountain and the sky was turning a rich bluey-purple. 

“It’s official,” you said, “I’m never going into nature without you. I would never be able to gut those guys by myself.” 

He chortled, putting an arm around you. The campsite was filled with the delicious smell of roasting fish and your stomach grumbled with anticipation. When they were done, Hugo carefully extracted yours and sliced it up so you could eat it easily. He chewed on his right off of the stick. By that time the stars were popping out one by one in the inky sky. Out this far there was no light pollution so your mouth hung open as you took it all in. 

“There’s so many!” you chirped, as you leaned back into Hugo’s fur to observe them. “It’s beautiful.” 

He chuckled behind you, his belly full. 

“See? Camping’s not so bad, is it?” he asked into your ear. 

You felt his soft, fluffy fur brushing your neck and a shiver rolled over your body. Pursing your lips you gave him a fake pout. 

“Like I said,” you sulked, “I’m only coming out here with you. I couldn’t do any of this on my own.” 

He wrapped his big arms around you and squeezed you tight. 

“No one else better be taking you on camping trips,” he said, “or they are going to have to fight off a very angry bear.” 

You rubbed your cheek into his furry chest and yawned, tired after the long walk. 

“Let’s get you tucked in,” he murmured. 

He rolled out two sleeping bags and you pouted. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, reading the disappointment on your face. 

“Nothing,” you snapped. 

His eyebrow rose as you fussily got into your sleeping bag and huffed, turning away from him. You were being a little childish because you were kind of cranky after the long hike. 

“It’s cold,” you pouted. 

You heard Hugo let out a rumbling laugh and drew your brows, annoyed that he found it funny. 

“Come here honey cake,” he said, extracting you from your sleeping bag like you weighed little more than a doll and pulled you into his. 

“Did you want to sleep next to me?” he asked. 

You felt silly, so you just nodded into his chest, snuggling into his warmth. He laughed again, stroking your hair. 

“I should have guessed,” he whispered, “look up.” 

You weren’t sure what you were supposed to be looking at, getting comfy next to your mate, but when you did your eyes popped. The sky was streaked with shooting stars. 

“I chose tonight because there is a meteor shower,” he said, his thick fingers brushing the hairs crowding your face out of the way. 

“This…this is amazing Hugo,” you gasped, unable to tear your eyes away. 

Hugo watched for a moment with you before his interests turned elsewhere. The pads of his fingers traced your neck and then across your shoulder blades. Instinctively, you cast your gaze on him, but he nudged your chin back up. 

“Don’t look at me,” he purred, “keep watching.” 

Your body was tingling with anticipation as he pushed your shirt up and tugged your bra down to get access to your breasts. His big warm hands cupped them and you could feel the delicious prick of his claws on your skin. You tried your best to keep your eyes on the many streaks of color lighting up the sky, but your eyelashes fluttered with pleasure. 

A low moan left your lips as his warm mouth closed over your nipple, circling it with his tongue. His touch was so familiar and comforting. You never wanted another person to touch you the way and the places he did. He possessed your body and you eagerly accepted his attention. 

“Hugo!” you gasped, arching your back so that he had better access to you. 

His fingers tugged at the other nipple, making you mewl out loud. Your panties were already soaked, feeling sticky against your skin. 

“Please, Hugo. More,” you managed to mutter and you felt his body, tucked so close in the sleeping bag, rumble with delight. 

His thick fingers unzipped your pants with surprising dexterity and slid them off you, leaving only your wet panties. A thumb traced your slit, stopping at your clit to stroke languid circles. You gasped and keened, pressing your mound into his fingertips. 

With a tearing sound, you realized his claws had sliced right through the chaste cotton panties you were wearing, leaving you bare for his fingers to explore. He dipped a thick digit inside of you, collecting some of your wetness before he circled your needy bundle of nerves with it. 

His mouth found yours, his thick tongue snaking out to taste you. Your peaked nipples brushed the soft fur on his chest, the sensation decadent and luxurious. He was so big looming over you, carefully holding himself up so he didn’t crush you. You adored the way he was incredibly strong but could be so delicate with you. 

You reached out to find his cock, thick and firm, dripping a steady stream of precum. Feeling his need made your insides melt to mush. Your mate wanted you and only you. He hissed in pleasure as you rolled your palm over the wide head, then down his shaft. 

You both moaned and grunted in pleasure as you handled one another. His cock was hot and throbbing in your hand, while he pinched and rubbed your clit faster and harder every second you touched him. He wound the thread of pleasure tighter and tighter until the stars were imprinted on the back of your eyelids. You screamed his name as he pushed you over the edge, bucking your hips into his big hand. 

“Who do you belong to, honey cake?” he muttered, “tell me who makes you feel good.” 

“You Hugo,” you gasped, hardly able to let out the words. 

You heard his approving growl before he pulled you on top of him, letting the sleeping bag fall back so your breasts were exposed to the night air. It was cool, but his big hands roaming over you were so hot, you hardly noticed it. 

“Take what you want, (Y/N),” he groaned, “I want to see you come apart on top of me.” 

You let out a little squeal, lowering your hips onto his thick cock. You always had to take it carefully, he filled and stretched you completely. It took you a minute to slowly descend so that your hips were flush. He let out a rumbling roar when you were fully seated. 

His eyes on you were glittering in the firelight as he took you in. 

“My mate,” he rumbled, “You’re so beautiful. Prettier than a sky full of stars.” 

His words propelled you forward and you bounced on his stiff shaft, pushing yourself higher and higher, towards your end. He cupped your breasts, kneading them and plucking your nipples until your head was thrown back, muttering curses to the silent mountain. 

It was good there was no one around to hear all of the loud, lusty noises you were making. As your pace got erratic, so close to cumming, Hugo took over. His hands gripped your hips, the tips of his claws pricking your skin as he thrust up into you. He took you hard, the sound of your ass slapping his thighs echoed around you. 

“Touch yourself for me,” he growled and you couldn’t deny him, parting your folds with your much smaller fingers and hazily circling your clit. 

Your other hand clutched your bouncing breast, teasing the nipple. All the while Hugo’s hungry gaze ate you up. The way he looked at you, full of sensual longing made you feel like a goddess. You knew he adored every part of you. Every bit of cellulite and every little scar his eyes met with a ferocious greed. 

Not able to hold back any longer, you erupted, hot pleasure washing over your body in thick ripples. He snapped his cock into you once, twice, then on the third time you felt a wave of searing cum fill you as he roared his release. You fell forward, spent, your nose buried in his neck. He stroked your back gently, not ready to pull out of you yet. He pulled the sleeping bag up around you so your skin, damp from sweat, wouldn't make you cold. 

“I love you little honey cake,” he hummed, his voice thick and low. 

“I love you,” you breathed into his neck. 

You let him cuddle and stroke you until you drifted off to sleep with him still inside of you.

#werebear #werebear x human #werebear x reader #x reader #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #monster smut #yandere smut #yandere male #yandere x reader #smut #monster lover #hugo

[daisynik7]

The Takada-Chan Handshake Event

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~3.5k

cw: explicit language, suggestive dialogue, switch POVs (reader is in 2nd person, Todo is in 3rd)

Summary: Takada-Chan’s first Handshake Event of the summer goes better and worse than you expect.  

Author's Notes: Here’s Chapter 2! Thank you everyone who has supported this series so far. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, would love to hear what y’all think so far of the story! Thank you for reading! Divider credit to @/saradika.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Two weeks after the concert, Takada-Chan hosts her first Handshake Event of the summer in a convention center twenty minutes away. It’s currently six in the morning as you stand outside the doors, a thermos full of hot coffee in one hand and a small tote bag of your belongings in another. Because of your sour experience at the concert, you plan thoroughly today, deciding to arrive at the convention center. Six hours early. 

Basic logic and reasoning are clouded by your extreme dedication to this pop idol. This is what you realize as you wait outside the building at the crack of dawn, still half asleep. The only solace you find in your current predicament is that you are first. No one can stand in front of you this time.

You packed all the essentials you need to make the next several hours pass by quickly. A small blanket to lay flat on the ground, marking your territory. The pillow to cushion your bottom from the hard pavement. Even snacks and a small bento for lunch for when you get hungry. No matter what the circumstance, you are not leaving this spot. 

Settling in comfortably into your makeshift camp, you start one of Takada-Chan’s concert specials downloaded on your phone. With no one around yet, you listen to it out loud without headphones, nodding your head along to the beat of the music. Fortunately, with Takada-Chan as a welcomed distraction, the first hour flies by. 

7 AM. Five more hours to go. There are a few people around now, walking by to kickstart their day, though no one falls in line behind you. Good. You pat yourself on the back for being here ahead of everyone else. If that’s not true dedication, you don’t know what is! You check your text messages from Sara, sending her a selfie of you holding a peace sign along with a message saying, “Early bird gets the worm!”

You don’t expect a response right away, considering she’s still asleep on a Saturday morning, like a normal person. She thinks this isn’t worth waking up at the ass-crack of dawn just to receive a handshake. In fact, her exact words to you were, “You’ve got to be out of your fucking mind.”

Maybe you are, but you don’t care. Most people have hobbies or interests they would do crazy things for. This is fun for you. You are willing to do it. Would it be nice if you had someone that shared the same level of interest you have for Takada-Chan? Sure, because you won’t have to keep dragging Sara around with you, subjecting her to your ridiculousness. While she is generally a good sport about it, you’d feel significantly less guilty if she actually liked Takada-Chan as much as you. You don’t blame her at all for not wanting to be with you right now, especially in these conditions.

At 7:30, you hear footsteps walking towards you. It’s a young man with spiky, pink hair wearing a yellow tee and blue shorts, seemingly a few years younger than you. He falls in line behind you, leaning against the wall. When you look up at him from your seated position, he gives you a friendly smile, waving. “Hello.”

You return his greeting happily. “Good morning.” 

After formal introductions, where you find out his name is Yuji Itadori, he puts his hands in his pockets and sighs. “Can’t believe you’re here earlier than me. What time did you get here?”

“6:00 AM,” you answer.

He lets out a whistle. “Dang. Dedicated fan, huh?”

You laugh as you stand up, matching him. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. The last event was completely ruined for me, so I learned from my mistakes.” 

His expression becomes curious. “What happened the last time?”

“I was at her mall concert two weeks ago. This massive guy blocked my view the entire time, refusing to move.”

He buries his face in his hand, shaking his head and chuckling. “Sounds like Todo.”

Your eyes widen, recognizing the name. “That’s him! He screamed out to her as she walked off stage! Is he really your friend?”

“Were you near the front of the stage?” After you confirm with a nod, he adds, “Yup, that was him. Oh man. Sorry, but Todo will do anything for Takada-Chan. You stood no chance at all.”

The rage from that confrontation comes surging back, still fresh and hot on your mind. You groan, frustrated. “Ugh, I can’t believe that guy is your friend! He’s such a jerk!” 

He shrugs, stating plainly, “That’s Todo. When it comes to Takada-Chan, he gets pretty crazy.”

You cross your arms over your chest, pouting. “Well, I hope I never have to see him again. Sorry, I know he’s your friend, but I can’t have another event ruined for me.”

Itadori flashes you a guilty glance, mumbling, “Well, actually…”

Suddenly, a voice booms out from the distance. “Brother! I got coffee and donuts!” Oh hell no. It’s him, the asshole! Why? Why is this happening to you? You planned today out perfectly! The giant meathead struts to his pink-haired friend, as cocky and aggravating as the first time you saw him. You turn around so your back is facing the two men behind you, desperately hoping the idiot doesn’t recognize you. In a panic, you take your phone out and text Sara:

SOS NEED BACKUP ASAP 

also, can you please bring me a donut

~~~

Todo orders two iced coffees and a half dozen classic glazed donuts from the café across the street. Today is off to a great start; he managed to convince his best friendo to wake up early and stand in line with him for Takada-Chan’s Handshake Event. This isn’t his first; in fact, he’s quite the regular at these type of events. Hopefully the idol actually remembers him this time. 

Balancing all the treats in his hands, he walks to the convention center, certain that they’ll be first in line. There’s no other fan dedicated enough to wait hours before the event starts just for a handshake. Only heloves Takada-Chan enough to do that. So, it’s a major surprise when he finds someone already ahead of Yuji, literally camped there with a blanket and pillow. 

He announces his presence, approaching Yuji to stand next to him, inspecting the person before them. In the lowest voice he can muster, he whispers, “Is this person here for the event?”

Yuji rubs the back of his neck, replying in a hushed voice, “Yeah, she’s been here since 6 AM.”

“What?!” Todo yells, completely abandoning any discretion. He glares at the woman ahead. Who is this chick? How dare she claim the first spot in line! That should be his!

He pushes past Yuji, tapping on the woman’s shoulder. “Ahem, are you in line for Takada-Chan?”

“Yes”, she responds, not moving a muscle. 

“Well, you see, I’m Takada-Chan’s #1 fan. I’ve known her since middle school. She’s actually my future wife. That being said, I think that I should be first.”

No response. She remains motionless, refusing to even glance back at him. The nerve. 

Growing impatient, he asks, “So, think we can switch?” 

Finally, she cranes her head just enough to peer at him. “Nope,” she answers, facing forward again. What. The. Fuck?! 

A little louder now, he cajoles, “Come on, don’t be like this. You’re going to deny her #1 fan his rightful spot?”

“Not my problem,” she says, venom laced in her tone. Why does this interaction sound familiar?

It all comes rushing back to him. In the same nanosecond it takes for him to imagine fake scenarios from his childhood, his mind returns to an actual memory from two weeks ago. He uttered those exact words to that short girl who was behind him at the concert. The girl who argued with him, called him an idiot and an asshole. This is the same girl. The loser. 

His rival. 

If she thinks she can compete with him in this battle to be Takada-Chan’s #1 fan, she has another thing coming. No one beats Aoi Todo in a contest. No one. And when it comes to the pop idol, there isn’t another living entity in the world that can match his devotion to her. He accepted her rejection in middle school for crying out loud, a fact that all people except Todo continue to dispute. This gal has no idea what she just got herself into. 

Through gritted teeth, Todo growls, “So it’s gonna be like this? Fine. I hope you don’t mind me singing then. I’ve been told I’m tone-deaf, but if I sing loud enough, I’m sure I’ll hit the right notes!” He starts his playlist on his phone, maximizing the volume. In his biggest voice, he begins belting the first song, Love Gem. Yuji hides behind his palms, embarrassed.

She whips around, finally meeting him face-to-face, yelling, “Oh fantastic! I love this song! I hope you don’t mind me joining in!” Her singing is even louder than Todo, which surprises him. He can admit that she carries a tune better than he could, but still, it’s annoying.

They go at it for about thirty minutes, two noisy, obnoxious adults angrily screaming Takada-Chan lyrics at each other. Todo even tries to play some underground tracks that he thought only he knew, but she perfectly recites it with a raised eyebrow, willing to accept whatever challenge he presents to her. 

Seriously, who is this chick?

~~~

It’s been a half hour long battle of attrition against the imbecile, to which you think you’ve won. Todo seems winded, strands from his neat bun coming loose, sweat beading off his forehead. It doesn’t surprise you since the guy has been straight up screaming at you for thirty minutes. 

Sara finally arrives, carrying a backpack with another small bag in hand. She approaches cautiously, ending the bizarre singing match. Todo huffs and puffs, glaring at you as you catch your own breath. “I could hear you from down the street,” she says, smirking. “Sounded like two sentient cats starring in their own musical. Imagine my disappointment finding out it’s just you two,” She passes you the bag, carrying a donut inside, as well as a water bottle she retrieves from her backpack. “Thank you,” you say, taking a swig. 

“So, what is going on here?” she asks, pointing at you, then at Todo. 

“This idiot asked me to switch spots with him even though I was here first. He thinks he deserves it, or whatever.”

Todo interrupts. “I don’t think, I know I deserve it!”

“I wasn’t talking to you, idiot!” you yell back. 

“Stop calling me an idiot!”

“Stop being an idiot then!”

Sara, once again, steps between you, intervening. “Cut it out. You are adults, act like it. You two are going to be here for the next four hours, do you really want to waste your energy bickering with each other?”

You pout, knowing she’s right. It’s difficult containing your pettiness with him; something about him really grinds your gears.

Eventually, Todo’s grimace softens, muttering a reluctant, “Fine.” 

Sara looks at you, waiting. You roll your eyes, obliging. “Fine.”

She claps her hands with a smile, as if she just solved world peace. “Alright! Now shake on it. Did you even introduce yourselves yet? Shouldn’t the top two Takada-Chan fans at least know each other’s names?”

He grunts, extending his large palm to you. You grab hold of it, surprised at how soft his skin is. The two of you shake hands slowly, stating your names, neither of you letting go. Letting go means you concede. Letting go means you lose. 

He tugs you slightly forward, whispering, “You may be first in line, but I’m still Takada-Chan’s #1 fan.” He gives you a smirk, tightening his grip on you.

Feeling bold, you clench him tighter, also pulling him closer, using all your strength to move his mountain of a body. You’re practically nose-to-nose now. “Have fun waiting in second place, behind Takada-Chan’s true #1 fan,” you retort, returning his annoying smirk with one of your own. His eye twitches, annoyed with you. Sara groans beside you while Itadori cackles, amused. 

The next couple of hours elapse normally, thanks to Sara’s presence and the distraction of the two behind you. Sara and Itadori seem to get along well as they chat with one another in line, laughing often. Todo and you stay firmly in your spots, listening to your own Takada-Chan playlists on your headphones. Occasionally you’ll exchange irked glances, arms crossed, guards still up. No matter what, you won’t let him win whatever bizarre competition you currently find yourselves in.   

More fans line up and by 11 AM, the convention center opens, workers directing you inside. By this time, Sara and Yuji leave, neither friend intending to stay for the actual event. You are led through velvet ropes until you see a small table set up in front of a black backdrop. This must be where Takada-Chan will greet people with a handshake. By 11:45 AM, you can’t help but tremble with excitement. 

Todo scoffs obnoxiously. “Something funny?” you ask, facing him. 

“For a self-proclaimed #1 fan, you make it so obvious that you’ve never been to one of these before. It’s comical,” he says, eyebrow raised at you. 

You scowl at him. “Just because this is my first one, doesn’t make me less of a fan.”

“Actually, it does. I’ve been to so many of these, I’ve lost count. The fact that you haven’t been to any, and you still stand here claiming to be #1. It’s pathetic.”

It takes all the resolve you have to keep calm. Only fifteen minutes to go. You’ve managed to last the past four hours with this asshole breathing down your neck. Don’t let him ruin it now. “You can think whatever you want. I know in my heart how much I love Takada-Chan. You can’t take that away from me,” you argue, voice wavering with animosity. 

“Love? If you think your love for Takada-Chan exceeds mine, then you’re more delusional than I initially gave you credit for.” 

He really knows how to get under your skin. Where are Sara’s brass knuckles when you need them? “Alright, I get it, you’re in love with Takada-Chan. Creep. I admit, I haven’t been to many events yet, but we all have to start somewhere. Plus, I already proved to you that I know the lyrics to all her songs, even her underground stuff. Don’t think I didn’t notice you testing me earlier.”

He lets out a barking laugh. “Yeah okay, that was impressive. But you still have a lot to learn before you can call yourself a true fan. I can teach you a few things if you want.” 

“And why would I want that?”

He leans in close, grinning, a wicked look in his eyes. “I’m a pretty good teacher,” he says in a low voice. “I’m sure there’s a lot you can learn from me.” 

Something about the way he says it is intriguing, almost enticing. You remember he is an absolutely douchebag, so the thought passes quickly. “I know everything I need to know about Takada-Chan, thank you very much.”

“Oh really?” he challenges, rapid firing questions about Takada-Chan, to which you answer perfectly. This occupies your time until you hear the other fans in the crowd start to scream. You didn’t even notice Takada-Chan walk into the room because this moron distracted you. But lo-and-behold, there she is, posing in front of the black backdrop, cute as ever. You turn away from Todo, frown literally turning upside down into the brightest smile, in awe that she’s right in front of you.

The security guard beckons you to the table. Your hands jitter with excitement as you walk towards her, stuttering, “Hi Takada-Chan!”

The pop idol smiles politely. “Hi there! Does your boyfriend want to come up with you?” 

Confused, you respond, “Huh? My boyfriend?”

She points at Todo, standing in the front now with a delighted expression on his face, gawking at Takada-Chan. You wave your hands, trying to explain. “No, no, he’s not my – ”

She cuts you off. “I just love couples! It’s rare to see female fans, but it’s even more rare to see couples! How adorable! I love it so much!” she beams, motioning to Todo. Bewildered, he slowly steps towards the table, standing beside you, blushing.

“Aw, you two are just the cutest!” She shakes both of your hands enthusiastically. From your peripheral, you can see Todo glowing, completely unaware of the context.

Takada summons one of her security guards, requesting, “Can you grab a few posters from my dressing room?” The man nods, walking to the back room. She faces you and giggles. “I wasn’t supposed to give any posters away until my next event, but I’ll make an exception for you two.” She winks, and you’re almost certain yours and Todo’s hearts will soon burst from your chests.

“Thank you so much, Takada-Chan!” you say in unison, tears in your eyes. 

“Of course! How about a Taka-Tan Beam? You have your phones ready?”

You and Todo absolutely lose it. He holds his phone out, hands trembling, actual tears rolling down his cheeks. You shuffle around your purse to retrieve your phone, also shaking, ready to record.

“Ready? Taka-Tan Beam!” she exclaims, flashing her signature pose. 

The two of you clap your hands enthusiastically, praising her. Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular… 

The security guard comes back carrying posters rolled up under his arm. He hands them to the pop idol, who then gives them to you. “Thank you so much for coming!”

Todo leans forward, palms on the table. “Thank you, Takada-Chan! Thank you! Thank you!”

“Thank you, Takada-Chan!” you repeat, pulling Todo by the sleeve of his shirt to the exit with you. As you leave, he bows continuously towards the idol, who waves farewell kindly. 

Once outside, you find a bench to sit at. Todo is nearly foaming at the mouth, still unaware of what just happened. You hand him half of the posters, which he takes without looking at you.

“Taka-Tan. Beam,” he mutters in his catatonic state. His gaze is completed glazed over.

“Hey, Todo. Snap out of it,” you say, waving your hand in front of his face to get his attention. When that fails, you bop his head with one of the rolled-up posters.

“Huh?” He finally comes to, focusing on you. 

You laugh. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

“I can’t believe it either. But what was she saying exactly? I was too distracted by her beauty…” he trails off. You tap him again before he goes into a trance.

“She thought we were a couple,” you explain. 

“EH?”

“Yeah. I guess she saw us bickering in line and just assumed,” you elaborate, shrugging.

“She gave us special treatment,” Todo muses, stroking his chin, contemplating. 

What a turn of events. As much as you despise this man, being associated with him worked out the best for you in this particular instance. Takada-Chan thinks you two are a cute couple and she likes it, so much that she gave you exclusive items and extra attention. The sparkle in her eyes was mesmerizing as she performed the Taka-Tan Beam. It went better than you could have ever imagined.

Todo starts to speak, bringing you out of your reverie. “Look, I’m not that keen on Takada-Chan thinking I’m taken, especially by you. But since she can’t date right now anyways, I guess I don’t mind pretending. As long as we keep getting her attention.” 

“What are you saying? You want to pretend to be a couple?”

“Only for Takada-Chan events. Obviously.” There’s that smug look again. 

Eyebrows furrowed, you comment, “What, am I not good enough for you?”

He stands up, towering over you with a shit-eating grin on his face. “I know you’re not good enough for me.”

Hot rage tingles in your belly. What a fucking asshole. On your feet, you only come up to his chest, so you tilt your gaze up to glare at him. “You couldn’t handle me anyways, you fucking prick.” 

He leans down, his breath tickling your skin as he whispers, “I hope you don’t kiss anyone with that dirty mouth of yours.”

You get on your tippy-toes, closing the gap even more, challenging him. You swallow hard, not sure how to respond, but not afraid to back down. He holds your gaze, his mouth twitching slightly as his grins.

All of sudden, you’re very aware of how provocative this situation might look to an outsider. You feel it yourself. Whatever this angry tension is, it’s sort of… 

Okay brain, stop thinking like this. You hate this man. Despise him. Angry thoughts. Angry. 

He doesn’t relent. If you’ve learned anything about this beast the two times you’ve encountered him, he will notback down from a challenge. And knowing yourself, you won’t be able to keep up with him. But you can try. “I’d rather eat shit than be your fake girlfriend,” you hiss at him. You grab your purse and stomp off, leaving him behind. 

“Ha, then don’t expect my help at the next Takada-Chan event!” he yells out. 

As you walk to the train station, you make a promise to yourself to never interact with this oaf ever again. 

#aoi todo #aoi todo x reader #aoi todo fanfiction #aoi todo x you #todo aoi x reader #todo aoi #todo aoi x you #jjk x reader #jjk todo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #idol fan wars #aoi toudou #jjk fanfic

[the-autistic-vulcan]

Thranduil Hot Takes #1

Request by @lemonivall : Can you do Thranduil with prompt #6, #27, and #29?

6) Hobbies

I like to think his hobbies consist of more hands-on things

One thing I think he'd have an affinity for embroidery - I mean, have you seen this man's robes?

Along with very long and slender fingers, his hands were practically made to handle a needle and thread

one thing he'd totally make for you is a handkerchief with elvish written on it

something like "beloved"

I also like to think he's a bit of a sap, so he definitely sews/crochets flowers for you

but yes, he is a embroidery kind of man - we stan this, we need more of this

27) How they sleep

Considering he is a king, he sleeps with mountains of pillows

I like to think he just brings pillows from the various corners of Middle-Earth he's visited and just sleeps with them

He's also compensating slightly for how lonely he feels

Sometimes, when he can't sleep, he does tuck a pillow into his arms and hug it

His bed is also massive as well

Common sleep positions he enjoys is either spooning or the mountaineer

He is a light sleeper too, so the slightest movement could wake him up

It wouldn't be unusual to sometimes just notice him staring up at the ceiling and just stare

29) How they express love (platonically and/or romantically)

Platonic:

awww, you're friends? you're really lucky then

it is not easy to be friends with him: 1) he's a king, so he is busy, 2) he has a lot of emotional baggage he hasn't been able to filter out yet so be prepared for a storm

he likes giving you head pats - idk, maybe it's just because of how small you are compared to him (bro's like 6'7)

he also shares his personal stories with you - he trusts you enough to hear them

Romantic:

this makes me so soft

like is said in the hobbies section, he is a sap, so expect much affection

he picks you up and hugs you tightly, mainly due to the fact he is super touch starved

this man is also a big kisser - kisses are a bug part of his love language

he loves kissing your nose, cheek and hand - but boy does he love your lips

he also is big on gift giving - one big, lavish gift after the next

#thranduil oropherion x reader #thranduil x reader #thranduil #thranduil headcanon #the hobbit #an unexpected journey #desolation of smaug #battle of the five armies #lee pace #mirkwood #middle earth

[bonny-kookoo]

AAAAAAAA THE SEVEN DAYS BABIES ARE BACKKKKK we missed them dearly. but now I'm curious.. does he put her in her place? 👀👀👀 how is that going down? 👀👀🤭🤭

A/N: I feel like at this point it's safest to just continue the story with drabbles ._.

-> Masterlist

Teasing Jungkook is fun. It's your new hobby, actually.

From staying in bed clinging to him and keeping him there too, to denying his help and wearing his shirts without asking. It started with small things here and there- but by now, you pretty much walk around his apartment as if you're the one paying rent for the place.

And he never actually does anything but glare at you.

"Can you come here for a second?" He asks randomly as you finish the popsicle, throwing the wooden stick in the trash before you do so. As you walk closer, he's already got his arms out, inviting you to sit on his lap with a hand patting his thighs. And you take that invitation right away- his lap is pretty comfortable, after all.

The moment you take a seat, get comfortable and look up at his face, you feel like you stepped right into a trap. His face holds an odd expression to it, eyes sharp but warm- hot even, as he looks at you with a slightly amused smirk on his lips.

"Say-" He starts, leaning his head a bit to the side with feigned innocence, hands on the small of your back- not grabbing, but their presence is oddly enough to keep you in place, like a warning, as he finishes his sentence with his searing hot gaze on you.

"-do you think I'm stupid?"

You instantly want to disappear, realizing how you've let yourself go. You feel awfully scolded, confidence slowly evaporating into nothing. "No no, eyes up here." He tells you, forcing you to look back at him. "You're alright." He softly reassures you, making you calm down a little for now as he leans back. "Honestly it made me happy." Jungkook reveals. "I like how relaxed you've become with me. How much trust you put in your safety." He offers. "It's a huge compliment to a guy like me, I mean that." He offers.

"..I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that." You instantly react, and he chuckles, hands on your back carefully running a little up and down to comfort you.

"Don't apologize." He shakes his head. "Like I said, you're starting to trust me. That's a good thing." He nods.

"..but?" You ask, feeling like there's a 'but' coming.

"But..-" He starts, energy shifting again. "-I feel like we need to talk about your safeword, and how to use it." He says- surprising you.

What does he mean?

"From now on, I will not hold back." He tells you, and a strange sense of excitement fills you. "Which means I will have to put my trust in you, now more than ever." Jungkook explains, and you nod.

"I.. how so?" You wonder, a bit confused as to why he'd need to trust you with anything. He's the one in charge after all. Right?

"Because I have to trust that you will be honest." He tells you. "I have to trust that you will tell me whenever I'm overstepping boundaries. I have to trust in that we will talk about it, and you won't just try to push through as to not make it awkward." He tells you with a serious face, and you nod.

"But if I use it.." You worry, "..won't everything stop?" You ask, and he looks at you for a moment, letting those words process, before he seems to realize what your fear is.

"Your safeword stops whatever happens in that moment." He explains. "It gives me a sign that you're no longer comfortable. What won't happen-" He makes sure to talk in a gentle but firm tone. "-is that I'll hate you, or send you away, or leave you alone." He reassures, and you relax visibly at that. "We will stop, clean up, calm down, and then talk about what exactly made you use it. Not to scold you, but to communicate." He says.

"But it'll be awkward." you worry.

"Maybe. But it's necessary." He urges. "I need to know if its a hard limit- if it's something you hate and don't ever want to do, or if it's just something you're not yet ready for, or if it was just a cramp, or a feeling, or whatever." He carefully explains. "I can't read your mind. So you'll have to tell me what you're thinking."

"What does that have to do with how I've been acting lately?" You ask, and he smirks again, unable to keep the corners of his lips down.

"Because technically, I would've put you into your place long ago. I just didn't do it because we didn't talk about this before." He shrugs. "I feel like.. it wasn't quite fair to just have you open yourself up to me, while I show you nothing of myself as well." He says.

"What if I don't like something you do, but it's something you really love?" You ask, and he shrugs.

"Then we'll either find some way to adjust, or we'll find something else. There's probably gonna be something that you like and I don't like either- and we'll have to talk through that too when we find it." He offers. "Nothing is worth more to me than your comfort." he tells you. "Sex is worth nothing if it's not enjoyable for us both."

"... so you're gonna spank me now or what?" You ask teasingly, and he throws his head back to laugh, one of his hands actually playfully hitting your butt.

"Maybe next time you get on my nerves, you brat!" He tells you, shaking his head.

And for some reason, you're now actually excited for what he's been hiding from you all this time.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook fic #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook imagine

[rue-dixon]

Daryl Dixon with a daughter headcanons

- his entire parenting style would be, "do as I say not as I do."

- when he's fixing a car, his bike, or even his cross bow he'll ask you for help and ask you to hand him tools. While also trying to teach you how to do it so you can do it yourself later on.

- would probably totally forget to explain to you what periods are so when you get it for the first time you think you're dying and he has to talk you down.

- reads you bed time stories when you were younger but would interrupt himself every few minutes with some sort of comment or criticism. "Then the princess kissed the frog an- seriously? She's gonna believe the talking frog??"

- will always let you sleep with him if you have nightmares.

- has woken you up with snoring a couple times.

- teaches you how to hunt, gather, and shoot of course.

- wants to be involved in your hobbies, so if you draw, write, read, paint, sing, it doesn't matter. He wants to be included in them and will always complement you on them. Will watch you too if it's something he can watch you do.

- tries not to smoke around you too much when you were younger. Because he remembers how bad his moms smoking affected him as a kid, but will be less and less careful as you get older. Tells you not to smoke while simultaneously refusing to ever quit himself.

- brings you back gifts when he goes on runs. Especially during the prison era, brings you back things to decorate your space to make it feel less like a cell. You have so many trinkets, jewelry, stuffies, or anything the goes with your hobbies from him. Good thing he doesn't have to pay.

- when you outgrow your clothes or need new ones he'll go with you so you can pick them out yourself. But will also ask Carol or Michonne to come along as well because they know more about these things.

- is surprisingly very calm when teaching you how to drive. Has you drive up and down empty highways and around empty parking lots. You don't need a license of course but still should learn the proper way.

- if you're lesbian and come out to him he'd probably like snort and be like "I know.. so who's the lucky girl?" And give you a very cocky smirk before looking away.

- sometimes he gets sad knowing he can't give you a better life than you deserve.

- would not shelter you, like at all. If you were Carl's age, he would've already taught you to shoot way before him which caused Carl to fuss at Rick. But he'd still try to shield you from anything super bad or grossem.

- if you have a bad fight later that night when they two of you will be getting ready to settle down for the night he'll try his best to apologize in the way he knows how. So either giving you something, helping you or apologizing for something specific. "M' sorry for yellin' at ya."

- hugs, but mostly hair ruffles and pats on the back.

#twd daryl #the walking dead #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x daughter reader #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl imagines #daughter reader

[fumifooms]

Hi hi! I'm sure you have loads of asks to get through. But if you may, we talk a lot about Chilchuck and Marcille (as we should 'cause they're great!), but since you've mentioned that Laios is your fave char, I would love to hear if you have any takes on Laios and Izutsumi's dynamic. I feel sometimes like she doesn't really like him...? It's funny but I also feel bad for him sometimes. ^^;;

You can’t ask me this and expect me to not drop everything else I’m doing. Little did you know they are my brotp. They are so special. Izutsumi gets along more with literally everyone in the party, but their relationship was so narratively important. They’re a really underrated and overlooked dynamic! I’ve had them as a topic at the back of my mind for a while, seeing someone else interested was all the push I needed gdbdg. This isn’t super long though, their issues with each other and lil arc is surprisingly brief and easy to summarize.

Laios & Izutsumi : what’s their deal with each other

For me one foundational train of thought for Izutsumi & Laios is, well. I read this awesome smart post deconstructing how Izutsumi’s beef with Laios is because she only just broke free and wants freedom without having someone ordering her around, and that’s sort of her whole character arc, isn’t it?

Isn’t Izutsumi’s picky eating a reflection of just that? In a life where she was a slave, she could at least control what she chose to eat and not eat. But then you might wonder, why did the narrative want her to grow out of that? Simply put, Izutsumi has a contrarian streak, one that is often extremely counterproductive. We saw that especially near the beginning, with how hard it was to make her work with them as a team. The issue is that now that she is free, she needs to not block out others by habit, to not lash out and refuse the healthy things in life, the people who want good for her. And that’s something that’s addressed in the succubus chapter as well as the fight against the ice golem, that she shouldn’t insist that she can do everything alone and fight against any team effort.

I love how onesided the Laios izutsumi dynamic is. He stays away from her generally, like doesn’t interact much, but he wants the cat pats… Which Izu made clear she did NOT want. And Chil is the only one in the party to not really see her as a cat for most of the story really, as shown in the relationship chart. He’s well meaning and wants the best for her, but he crowds her and doesn’t understand her at all. But he reallyyy wants to get along with her.

On the other hand, Izutsumi’s very existence and identity gave Laios an immense amount of hope that Falin could be brought back and still be herself and live well, even if she still had part of a dragon’s soul in her. I think that’s a lovely way to contrast the way that Izutsumi hates herself as a beastkin and her body, while Laios is like "Thank you, your existence as you are is the answer to all my worries" AND he super likes monster bodies and beastkins so it’s like. I think part of her hostility to him, besides feeling like he doesn’t understand her perspective and is maybe dismissive of what his party members want (which would remind her of Maizuru to some degree probably), is that he says all these good things about her being a beastkin, and it’s so jarring with her own version of herself that it raises her hackles and she reacts negatively, especially with how flippant and eager he is about it. But yes like, this is their first meeting!! Beyond his interest in her as a beastkin because of his monster hobby, Laios is just so very grateful for her and chooses to put his trust in her.

That’s interesting too, how one of the first things she asks about upon meeting them is why the hell they would want to rescue Falin even if she were to stay as a chimera-beastkin and still have the dragon soul in her. It’s her asking "Who would want to stick with a beastkin?" thinking that there’s something fundamentally wrong with having two souls and it making you unlovable. And their differing views on monsters do make them clash

But ultimately he chills out about her, which ironically enough shows in the way that they don’t interact much- He gives her space, and accepts that the beastkin may not like him. BUT at the end of the day they have an incredible bond of trust- Laios asks Izutsumi to kill him if something goes wrong with the Winged Lion. Not only is that sort of an intimate request and act, but that means that he leaves it up to Izutsumi’s judgement as well to know if it went wrong and when to act. He doesn’t only trust her skills but also her decision making, despite how tough they’ve been on each other in the past. He’s giving her the ultimate role, the go ahead to make or break their plan and be the difference between saving or destroying the world. And the last tidbit of info we get on their relationship in canon is when she hides behind him because she’s shy- Certified having befriended the cat moment. She trusts him and sees him as a safe person! And by saying that she’s shy, he’s showing that he did end up understanding her and how she is.

No matter the rocky parts of their relationship, they still have a strong foundation to it and were great allies and road companions, one of the few persons that had each other’s back when it mattered the most, both for the world and for their personal arcs. And post-canon, well…

He’s accepted that she needs space and whatnot, and meanwhile she’s accepted his interest in monsters and taken it in stride 😌 They end up having this familiarity with each other and even if there’s still a bunch of emotional distance imo and they never really got into the nitty gritty with each other not like her with Chilchuck or even Marcille, they see each other. They nod in greeting and respect each other from afar……. But also still tease and chat familiarly up close and if she offers him the opportunity for cuddles he will take it. You know, if it’s not her just falling onto him because she’s sleeping she has no respect.

Siblings behavior… If you know my take on the general party dynamics, I love thinking of Laios & Izu’s dynamic as him being an older brother figure where they have a love-hate relationship. Siblings rivalry. I have a bunch of funny little doodles I’ve wanted to make with them for months, the prompts for which are in the screenshot put below. But yeah like you know, they’re protective of each other but in that very critical way as well, truly forged by being stuck with each other for a while and having to come to understand and accept how the other is. Strife with conflict, but ultimately sticking with each other through thick and thin… Siblings siblings SIBLINGS SIBLINGS SIBLINGS. Sigh I just want them to cuddle on a couch and she purrs while simultaneously being snide and mean to him, they are so… Izutsumi is the character ever

Oh, which! While I’m here, I always recommend this fanfic about the two of them interacting and Laios treating her like a cat, it’s just fun and lighthearted. They’re suuuuch an underrated duo

If I find more Laios & Izu moments I think are worth sharing I’ll just add it onto this I think. We shouldn’t be too hard on him he was raised by dogs so cats are a whole other language to him but also, so wild to me that he never tried to engage with her on a cat level properly like where is the hissing at the catgirl and the cat taming moments, he sucks at socializing with cats smh smh.

I want to do an analysis of queerness in Dungeon Meshi with relationships and social norms and stuff and Izutsumi’s arc is gonna be central to that too. Her relationship with EVERYONE is SOOO GOOD AND IMPORTANT AND COMPELLING. But I guess this is where I leave it off for now, I hope I’m not forgetting any point I wanted to make hmmm

#Dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #Spoilers #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #izutsumi #laios touden #laizu brotp #Analysis #relationship analysis #Idk idk. Scene analysis #arc analysis #Fumi rambles #This is my brother and this is my sister! We are siblings and we care for each other! #What’s that? We have a younger sister. You thought we were two but there is another. Come on Izu snap out of that trance it’s time to do #THE SIBLINGS DANCE #Ask #Falin & Izutsumi would be so good too actually #That “you can trust your sibling to kill you if needed” thing where it’s even more relevant bc of Laios and faligon GGDBDKDB #Killing someone for their own good is siblings coded in dunmeshi real?? /j