You (dumb, Never Heard Of Fight Club): If I Buy Things I Will Be Happy

HARRY POTTER

Draco Malfoy:

Nightcall: You and Draco enjoy bending and breaking the rules when it means you get to see each other. Sometimes, all you need is a night shared between the two of you to run through the halls of Hogwarts.

(Romance/Slight crack/Fluff)

Hey!! I am currently working through some other fanfics that have been in my drafts forever and I have a Cliff Booth one coming out soon! However, I was wondering if I should post the Seo Moon-Jo one I've written? It definitely falls into the yandere category....but then again, it is Seo Moon-Jo.

Thoughts?

💛🦐

PASSENGER

Lee X Reader

Lee has traveled everywhere with you ever since meeting you in the store the night after your father left you. He's never given you a reason not to trust he'll stay, but your anxiousness gets in the way after he admits to you that he wants to be closer than ever before.

⚠️ Warnings: Blood and gore, mentions of cannibalism, talks about sex, reader and Lee almost have sex, anxiety⚠️

The truck bounced up and down as the tires made harsh contact with the gravelly road beneath it. The bumps and swerves were almost soothing as they rocked both you and the pink haired boy next to you, who had taken comfort in the passenger seat staring out the window. His lips were drawn into a tight line and his eyes were closed but flitting back and forth as he dreamt of nightmares, presumably. It was hard to live the life the two of you shared and not feel a little scarred on the inside. Being on the road without any sense of direction was so freeing compared to the life you were living before. After discovering the news of your mother in the psych ward and your father leaving you to fend for yourself, the path towards self-love and acceptance has not been an easy one. Picking up people along the way and carrying their stories with you seemed to be the only attempt at salvation when it came to your humanity. That's what people with morals did. Did you have morals anymore? It was hard to tell.

"It's getting dark. Are we almost to the lake?" The boy piped in, interrupting your thoughts as your hands gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter as you prepared to turn right towards your special campsite. It was just a small spot by the trees and the lake that you two often shared a cigarette and a story or two. Sleeping under the stars has become normality.

"We're here." You said, turning over to glance at his expression of contentment yet sorrow. If there was anyone in the world who could manage to make both expressions visible at once, it was Lee.

The sky has darkened tremendously from when you first embarked on your little journey out towards the fields. The stars hung overhead in dim glowing orbs that contrasted against the rest of the universe above. The crescent moon illuminated the trees and the path to the usual parking spot under the bridge. It was beautiful at this time of night to say the least, and you felt your shoulders lose their tension as a serene wave washed over you.

The car's engine turned off and there was a silence between the two of you. Nothing uncomfortable, but a very distinct kind of silence where both parties are listening to the whims of nature. A cicada here and there and the rushing of water. It was all too perfect but unsettling at the same time. However, the only unsettling things were you and Lee; he only terrors that travelled in the dark were you and him. The kinds of beasts in fairy tales and children's nightmares. You consumed others and not just for their emotional intelligence. You consumed the very essence of their being. A trace of blood under the bottom of the boy's lips and scraped knees were prevalent as you took in the sights around you and remembered you were never normal to begin with. The smell of the last person you killed hung heavy in the backseat of the car and it was a stench that would not be rid of unless there was a strip cleaning of the entire vehicle. The man who kissed Lee in the same way you did at the carnival who was expecting a night of frivolity and excitement presumably due to having to hide his sexuality... was now nothing more than a couple of bloodied shirts and old pictures. Lee had monstrously slit his throat while you watched from outside in the night air similar to this one. The gleaming thick substance dripping from the man's neck and now took home in the mouth of your lover. And yet, for being this type of monster, Lee looked so lovely under the soft glow of the moon cascading down through the pick-up truck's slightly dirty windows.

All of a sudden, you broke the silence that had dawned on you two as fast as it now ended.

"What are you thinking of?" You asked, alluding to the familiar brightness behind his eyes.

"You. Me. Us." He said with clarity but uncertainty. There was more to this topic than he was letting on.

"Is something wrong between us?" You asked, wondering what it could've been that would make him think of your relationship. Was it a tension that he felt? Was it him explaining to you that the man from last night was not just due to a sense of sexuality, but had now awoken something in him that wasn't there before, and he could no longer continue being with you? Or had that sense of sexuality always been there, and you were just a way at him preventing the realization of who he knew he was? And now, in contrast to your last stream of thoughts, you decided maybe your humanity wasn't entirely diminished and that you might be more of a teenage girl than you thought.

"No, not at all," he said, reaching for a strand of your hair and pushing it behind your ear with a loving and slight obsessive look in his eyes. his hair was strewn about his face, and he allowed the loose curls to fall just above his eyebrows in pink spirals similar to fanciful ribbons. It was inviting and alluring, and you didn't want to look away from him. "I want to make love to you."

The confession hit you like a train, hard and fast as you finally realized what had been troubling your boyfriend. It wasn't unlike him to want something of the sort, considering he was a teenage boy, but it still left you slightly startled. After everything the two of you had been through, this didn't seem like something that wouldn't have ever happened. Your love with Lee was fast and exciting and wonderful but also horribly founded on the fact that you shared the desire to eat human flesh. Sometimes, you had a hard time distinguishing between what portion of your relationship was bloodlust and what was true emotional and physical connection. But then again, you felt no such connection with Sully, who had tried to coerce you into banding with him on his journey of collecting the locks of corpses.

Sounding less assured than you usually liked to, you let out an anxious mumble: "You- you want to make love? To me?"

He smiled and leaned in closer until you could feel his hot breath against your skin, alluring and charming once more.

"I want to be one together. In the ways that we can be with other people when we devour their flesh. There's something poetic about it, no? We wouldn't necessarily eat each other as we did with the guy from the carnival, but this is the closest lovers can truly get in the physical sense. And oh, (Y/N), have you consumed me in the emotional sense."

This conversation definitely took a turn you weren't expecting. Before any objections could escape you, his lips were flush against yours, pulling you into him or as close as the stick shift would allow. The dashboard was littered with papers that fell down to the floor and under the glove compartment, resting at Lee's soles. His arms, although gentle in composure, were firmly placed on the sides of you with one holding the back of your head and the other placed on your hip. He started to move his fingers up and down alongside your thigh in a polite but provocative manner. He wasn't forcing you into anything you were uncertain of, but he still wanted to show how terribly he needed you.

Breaking away to gasp for air, you look at his proud expression as he treated every moment spent with you as though it would be the last. His eyes said everything he didn't say in that moment. He worshipped you. And it wasn't in the honeymoon phase type of way, it was in an 'I see you as though you were crafted by the gods' way. His lips were slightly swollen from the kiss he'd just given you, and his sharp, shallow breaths showed you he was just as tense as you were. His pants were still covered in the mud from the cornfield where you ditched Carnival Man's body, and his shirt was torn and fraying towards the bottom. You had to have been in rough shape as well but you hadn't looked in a mirror anytime soon to confirm or deny whether that was a true statement.

Your collective breaths being the only sounds within the car and outside it made this moment so much more intimate. His face loomed inches away from your pursuing lips, as you had wanted more of his taste; your hands beckoned ever so slightly in a race to see which one would reach the beautiful boy's skin first, Lee's collarbone was the finish line. You had thought about making love to Lee before, of course. With only your thoughts to keep you company as of recent, it wasn't entirely a new concept for you to wake up after a long drive with Lee at the steering wheel; the heat between your legs unbeknownst to him. You had wondered at one point if he had ever thought of something similar, but you would never have had the courage to bring about a situation like this and bring your fantasies to fruition. But, Lee had been the one to make the first move and you were thankful.

Noticing your hesitance but desire, Lee took that as a sign to lean in closer until you were nose to nose.

"Would you make love to me?" He asked, waiting until he had your consent before he continued. The last thing he would ever want to do would be to make you uncomfortable, and for a moment he thought he had. Until you reached for the hem of his shirt which grazed his collarbone, he leant in fully and continued to kiss you with a more feverish passion.

Hot breaths and hands everywhere, everything was so awkward but fun. There would be a pause in between your kisses to allow for breathing room before Lee dove back in and offered you more of the sweet gesture. All the while, you realized the burning sensation in the core of both your chest and lower abdomen was increasing with every touch of your lips. It was as if there was something inside of you asking- no -begging to touch Lee further. A fiery feeling that you'd never fully experienced before pushed itself to the very undersides of your skin, clawing at being held within your body and not being let loose as this beast wanted. It was the same desire you felt when you watched the life drained from someone you would eventually feed on and your mouth would be already drooling with the promise of what was to come. It was a same immenseness as your cannibalistic tendencies, but at the same time what you had with Lee was entirely different. You wanted to consume his soul and his persona, not his physical components. And with this realization also came the understanding that cannibalism is a beautiful allegory to love.

Lee pulled away for a moment to give you a loving but questioning glance. His face was barely illuminated now considering the clouds that had taken control of the night sky. But still, you knew he looked so handsome as he took your hands and gently guided them to the hem of his jeans. It was again, nowhere near forceful, but entirely romantic and sweet as he was taking into account how this was just as awkward for you.

"Would you want to continue?" He asked, lightly holding onto your hands as they toyed with the fabric of his jeans.

"I want you, Lee." You finally gave him a more definitive answer than your previous attempts at vocalizing exactly what it was you wanted in this moment. It was his turn to blush, even though you wouldn't see due to the darkness of the surrounding area, but you had an inkling that his face was redder than before. Unbuttoning the top of his jeans and unzipping the fly, this became more of a reality to you. What is Lee would be done with you after this? What if he joined this whole escapade of finding your true family and what happened to you just so that he could receive sexual favors in return? You never thought of Lee in that way, but maybe because of the way he treated Carnival Man he hoped you would be next?

Halting his movements, he noticed you seemed distressed. "Is everything okay, my love?" He questioned. Lee didn't know what had happened to change the mood all of a sudden, but he assumed it had to be his fault as he was the one who had brought up the idea in the first place.

"I'm so so sorry if I pressured you into doing anything you didn't want to-"

"No, you didn't Lee." You said, trying to understand the way you were feeling. That burning feeling had left your body and was now instead an anxious and gut-wrenching pressure. Why did you have to overthink everything? You really wanted this with Lee so why would you let your thoughts get the best of you?

"Are we taking things too fast?" He asked, after a short moment of silence. He zipped up his jeans and leant beside you, hesitating at first, but then opting to put his hand on your shoulder just in case he had done something to make you uncomfortable. If you were shying away from his touch, he wouldn't want to make you feel that way again.

But to his relief, you didn't shy away. Instead, you rest your head on his shoulder and allowed for him to put his arm around you. Feeling comfortable, you wait for the anxiety to dispel a bit before vocalizing the troubling thoughts on your mind; Lee waiting patiently.

"Lee, I really want this with you. But I want to make sure that you want me."

Lee was very confused at this point. He was your boyfriend and had asked to make love to you because he wanted you, of course. He instantly felt a pang of guilt for making you feel as though you weren't wanted by him. In reality, he would follow you anywhere. His nightmare from earlier was about losing you. And not to another man or any of that type of thing, but just not being able to be in your presence again. The universe worked in strange ways and everything was uncertain, even the present.

"I want you very much," Lee said, moving in closer to you to give you a proper hug, "very much. And I apologize if I've made you feel any differently."

You sighed a breath of relief. Of course he automatically thought there was something wrong on his end.

"No, Lee. You've made me feel very wanted. I just want to make sure that it lasts. Everyone I've held dear to me has left in different ways, and I don't want to have to loose you too." You calmed him as you explained what was wrong. He tightened his grip on you, not in a way that was possessive, but in a more firm and loving way.

"(Y/N). Anyone would be a fool to leave you."

.

.

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(A/N): I've been listening to a lot of Deftones lately and their music has been my go to for daydreaming about Bones and All. Anyhow, it's been forever since I've posted and I'll explain in another post for anyone who's interested! I hope this is alright as I try to ease myself back into writing as frequently as before. Love you guys! 💛🦐

F I R E C R A C K E R S

STEVE HARRINGTON X READER

He's loved you since the beginning. It's a shame you had to be taken from him so quickly.

⚠️ Warnings: angst!!!! Blood, death ⚠️

Steve held the firecrackers to his chest as he waited for the perfect time to throw it at the demon threatening the lives of his favorite people in Hawkins. The Mind Flayer- also known as the mysterious rat creature- had tormented everyone it came across. Now, as it finally stood inside the Starcourt Mall, it awaited its death in a valiant effort to fight back. Steve counted in his head the seconds before he would have to throw the fiery device at the creature created from the depths of the Upside Down.

"One, Two, Three, Four-" Steve heard Robin count before she threw her firecracker from the balcony. Her short hair flew with the thrust of her arm, hitting the back of the demon and watching a portion of its arm erupting into flames. She looked determined with a fierce glare that she directed at the Mind Flayer; eyes squinted and face contorted into one of complete and utter concentration. Steve had never seen her so focused.

And then, there was you. Watching the creature from the bottom of where you stood, feeling the agonizing burns of the firecrackers yourself. Connected to the monster, it was impossible for the group to make sure you stayed safe while they went for the kill. Your skin was ashen grey and the veins on your body shone black with the poison of the universe which ran parallel to Hawkins. You looked like a shell of the person Steve once knew you to be; the bright and happy (Y/N) that he loved so much and found so much in common with. The (Y/N) who went to all his basketball games and laughed with him in his car while The Police were softly playing from the speakers. The (Y/N) that always knew what to say to cheer him up after a bad day. The (Y/N) that he had asked out on that particularly cold winter day when he realized that seeing you wearing his scarf was a sight he didn't want to lose. You were still that person, of course, but now you were tainted with the horrible curse of the town Steve sought to run away from since the beginning of all this madness. You were still beautiful even though you weren't entirely yourself. And you were still his. Something he considered worth fighting for.

He counted down from ten before releasing the same firecracker into the direction of the monster which took you. He saw your eyes burn and your hands flail around until they reached your face, pulling at your eyes and dragging your fingers across your skin showing the pain you felt on the inside. The veins seemed to sear across your skin like black tendrils; vines opening up and crawling on every inch of your body. He felt a pang in his chest watching you being forced to suffer like this. He wanted nothing more than to have the old you back in his arms playing with your hair after the two of you woke up from another night spent at Steve's. It seemed like a millennia ago.

You screamed in pain and dropped to the ground just as the monster shifted in place, shrinking up against one of the walls towards the kids on the other side of the balcony: Lucas and Max trying their best to ward off the Mind Flayer.

Steve's maternal instincts kicked in and he ran towards the kids, much to Robin's avail. Her arm flung out in an attempt to grab her co-worker and friend as he raced towards the two fifteen-year-olds with their walkies in hand, firecrackers in the other.

"Steve!" Robin yelled, running after him as he tackled the kids into a protective hug just as the monster swung out and crashed its arm into the place they once stood. He held them close and squinted his eyes to try and block out the surroundings. This was all too much too fast. Robin joined him on the other side, holding Lucas close to her as she wrapped her arms around him protectively. He had a single tear threatening to spill down his cheeks and Max looked equally horrified.

You screaming once more brought Steve's attention back to what was happening below. Eleven had joined you in the fight with her arm outstretched in the air as she tried to push you back towards the monster and away from her friends. You floated just a few inches above the linoleum tiles, still in pain from your previous feat. Eleven looked deadly as she threw you to the ground.

"Stop!" Steve yelled before he even got a grasp of what it was he was saying. The guilt of you potentially being killed hit him like a train as he realized how this scenario was bound to play out. He had been too stupid, agreeing to fighting the Mind Flayer in hopes of getting you back, cutting you off from the demon permanently. The kids knew and Robin knew that it just wasn't possible.

"Don't kill (Y/N)!" He said, much more confident in his words and in more pain than he thought imaginable. Eleven turned to look at him with sorrowful eyes and an apologetic glance as blood dripped from her nostril above her lip.

"It has to happen!" She stated with utmost certainty. She knew this was the only way and as much as she hated the idea of losing you, she wanted to keep her friends safe. She remembered the times where you offered the kids rides from school and when you gave her advice about boys. You were so close to her, to lose you would be one of the worst things she would have to experience. But she couldn't lose Mike.

"But- I-I love her!" Steve finally let the reality of the situation hit him, his eyes spilling tears all over and his bottom lip quivering in fear and hurt. His heart shattered and his stomach felt as though someone were pushing a knife into him over and over, turning the blade every which way to deepen the wound. His head burned and his hands ached as he pressed his fingernails into the floor, blood starting to form from the tips of them. He had been scratched up pretty badly and the burning of his wounded eye was hardly anything compared to what he felt on the inside.

Steve's words caught your attention. Your mind an empty space of blackness finally felt as though it were opening up. You had no control over your movements prior to this moment and all you could feel was the searing of your flesh coming into contact with the burning sensation of the firecrackers. Running around aimlessly in the void that was your possessed body, you finally felt yourself able to take control- even if just for a moment. You turned to Steve and felt time stop as you looked into his tear-filled eyes knowing it was you that caused him that pain.

You smiled ever so slightly as another firecracker was thrown by Mike, bringing you back to the fight at hand. You winced in pain and felt the demon you were attached to move hastily towards Eleven, who had been knocked to the ground after her previous attempt at killing you. You were going to save her from this if it was the last thing you did. Running to her small body on the ground, you threw yourself on top of her and blocked out the monster's attack, feeling yourself ripping in two. Eyes wide and crying, Eleven looked down at the thing which stabbed you, the leg of the Mind Flayer itself, lodged into your chest.

And in that moment you thought back to the time Steve had asked you to be his. You had stolen his scarf when it was snowing, the falling pieces of sky finding themselves gently tapping your hair and leaving it in a small blanket of white. Your cheeks were rosy and your hands hurt from the cold but Steve's scarf had kept you warm. He was wearing his signature blue jeans and polo shirt with he letterman jacket from the basketball team at Hawkins High. His hair was also coated in snow and even though the two of you were practically freezing to death, he looked happier than ever.

"(Y/N)," he had said that day, "Will you be with me? Like- with me with me?"

You had smiled so much from his cute anxiousness and placed your hand in his. "Of course." You said, the happiest girl on earth.

You looked at Eleven underneath you and smiled the same way you did on the day Steve lent you his scarf.

"Tell Steve I love him too. Please." Were the last words you said before everything you knew faded to black.

...

A/N: I hope this is okay, I don't usually write angst but I was listening to Little Freak by Harry Styles and I'm all out of cookies. Enjoy :) 💛🦐

Peter's Motivational Speech

TASM Peter Parker X Reader

This is just a short little drabble I decided to write in hopes of relieving some of my own stress 😭 we could all use some Peter in our lives, especially some of his hugs.

"There's just so much I have to do, Peter. I have to figure out my entire future right now. This is the time to be meticulous and carefully plan my life so that things go the way I want them to. I'm so sick of sitting on the sidelines and watching other people live my dream so I'm taking all the steps I can to break my cycle of bad habits and I'm sorry I-" your ranting was abruptly stopped by a hug, your nose suddenly being filled with the scent of fresh laundry and chocolate. Your boyfriend had both his arms wrapped around you, halting your movements entirely as you stopped pacing back and forth, his chin resting atop your head.

You could feel it now, the anxiety crashing over you like the waves on a beach; the negativity flooding your brain like a tsunami, unstoppable and unavoidable. Your chest hurt as you gasped for air, tears pricking in the corner of your eyes at the thought of this being all life had to offer. You wanted to be an actress but things were so difficult and you could feel everything slipping from your grasp. Why couldn't you have chosen to be a lawyer or a doctor or something with results that came with extra schooling and not just chance?

"Hey," your boyfriend moved you to look him in the eyes, one of his many tricks that he knew would calm you down, "You're right. Everything sucks."

Your eyes widen in confusion. What did he just say?

He smiles and continues. "Everything is bad and we haven't been given the best opportunities to do the things we want to do. We don't know a whole lot yet and there's so much we have left to learn. Things are really difficult right now. But we have each other. And that counts for something. I know it does. Because even if my world goes up in flames, I know that I have you and I wouldn't trade that for the years of experience that comes with the job I want to have later on. I'm willing for the bad to come in because I know that I can face it. You can face it too because I'll be right here for you every step of the way."

You stopped. You stopped thinking about all the what ifs and the why nots and you just felt this moment. You felt your heartbeat dwindling down from an anxiety attack as your body found its footing and settled itself. You stopped pulling at the ends of your hair and you wiped your sticky eyes with the back of your hands. He always knew what the right thing to say was.

"I- thank you Peter."

"You have absolutely nothing to thank me for."

He then turns from you to busy himself with something at the kitchen counter. The sunlight coming in from the window on the far right of the room gave everything a calming glow. He looked so perfect standing there and you allowed for your worries to dissipate.

"I have made quite the delicious sandwich, would you like a bite?" He asks, turning around with a grin as he held up a pickle.

Laughing, you give him a hug from behind as you watch him finish putting on the extra condiments.

"I love you."

🌻🌻🌻

AN: I wanted to use the gif at the top just because I thought it was cute, I know he's portraying a different character but I couldn't resist that smile :)

Y o u n g L o v e

Pairing: Tate Langdon X Reader

⚠️ Warnings: none ⚠️

Listen to this song while you read:

You slipped into the cold black sheets that adorned your mattress as you prepared yourself for sleep. It was an autumn night and you were ready to fall asleep listening to the rain patter against the glass of your bedroom window. The red panes cast an eerie glow over everything and made your room illuminated in the color. There was something soft and beautiful about it; something you couldn't put your finger on that made you feel as though you were safe and comfortable. Ironically, you were living in a house full of ghosts.

But they were not bad.

Your head hit the pillow and your eyes met the ceiling. It had only been a month since you've moved into the infamous Murder House, yet you were content. The house may have been old and the people may have been rude, but you found yourself here. And you were grateful.

"Hey."

You felt the bed dip next to you and you moved over to the left side to make room for Tate as you participated in your nightly routine. His hand met your back as your face met his chest, your hands reaching up to play with his hair. This is where you felt the safest. Surrounded by the smell of cigarettes and the cashmere of your boyfriend's sweater. The feeling of a now warm bed and the arms resting delicately over your frame. You wouldn't trade this for the world.

Tate kissed you softly on the head; the rain crashing against your window as the storm's intensity increased. Thunder rolled in and made the quiet house alive with the noise of the sky and the universe above. And amongst it all; you were holding your favorite part of the universe in your arms. His short breaths hitting the top of your head and the sound of his heartbeat resonating through his chest signifying that he was both comfortable and in love.

"Hey. Enjoying the rain?" You softly asked him.

He smiled and let out a short laugh. "Of course I am."

He moved your hair out of your face so that he could look you in the eyes. Tate has done a lot of bad in this world. He wasn't always the sweet and loving person you knew him as today. There was a time when his name brought people fear and pain instead of admiration and peace. You were lucky to know him now; you had gone most of your life thinking that people could never change but here he was. Living proof that people aren't always what they seem.

"I love you so much." He said as his gaze met yours. "And I wouldn't trade you for the world." He planted another kiss to your forehead before smiling down at you once more in his arms. In his mind, that's exactly where you belonged, even though there were times where he didn't believe he deserved to have you there. Times when he was alone and found his thoughts drifting to you as they usually did. Times when he saw you leave the house and remembered that you were very much alive. That you still had things to do and people to meet and experiences to have. He felt so selfish for keeping you to himself sometimes knowing that the house was all he could offer you besides from himself. And it crushed him.

As guilty as he felt, having you here tonight made all of his negative thoughts disperse. What had he been so nervous of? Why had he originally fought against the idea of loving you when he first saw you move in? Why had he tried to avoid every attempt of contact you made? Why did he try to convince you that your feelings for him were invalid because you didn't know the truth? It was only when you did find out and you agreed to continue loving him that he let his walls come crashing down.

You still loved him despite his past and the people he's hurt. You still offered to be here and to hold him on nights like these where the loneliness oftentimes took over. You still wore his sweaters and snuggled with him when he felt anxious. You still danced to Nirvana even though it wasn't your taste in music. You still wanted him. And that was more than he could ever ask for.

"Are you okay?" You asked, reaching up to touch his face.

"I'm absolutely perfect."

Lying there, you both fell asleep holding each other and letting the rain drown out the sound of your hearts beating for young love.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

💛💛💛💛💛💛

Hey Jade! Can I request anything with shy!reader and Steve please :) I really like your writing <3

steve being a loving dork at a BBQ CW reader hesitates to eat in front of people ♡ fem!shy!reader | 0.9k words

You're sitting on a fold out picnic bench in Steve's backyard. Robin sits next to you with a paper plate full of food. Your stomach rumbles and you look away from her and the BBQ foods she's working her way through, guilty. 

You're super hungry and everything looks good, but you can't make yourself go up to the buffet table. You'd rather die than go to the grill. Steve's parents are hosting and there's loads of people here you don't know, your age and otherwise. Too many people.

"Robin!" Nancy calls from the pool. "Come on!" 

Robin grins at her friend and clambers onto long legs, shucking her food behind you. You watch her go and then look at the wood between your spread knees. 

You feel out of place. 

Almost as soon as she's gone someone's sitting in her grave. You don't look up in case it's someone you don't know, and the back of a warm hand strokes your arm. 

"Hey," Steve says. "Everything okay?" 

You drag your eyes from the bench to his face. He's so pretty it burns, worse than the unrelenting summer sun above, and you can't look at him for long. 

"Yeah," you tell his collarbones. 

"Don't believe you even slightly." His hand strokes again, up the bare length of your arm to the tiny short sleeve of your thin t-shirt. "Listen," he murmurs, softer, soft enough that you meet his eyes. He smiles at you encouragingly. "Are you hungry?" 

"No," you say.

His eyebrows narrow almost imperceptibly, a tiny wrinkle between them that you want to smooth away. 

"Come up to the buffet with me anyway? I want corn on the cob. And a hot dog. And, like, a burger. Cheeseburger?" 

He pokes your thigh with both index fingers until you can't help but smile at him.  

You follow him up to the buffet and you're unsurprised when he shoves a paper plate into your hands. This is fine. This is what you wanted. Still, it feels weird. Awkward, even, to plate food up for yourself. How much are you allowed to take? Is it rude to take lots of one thing?

Steve watches your hesitation out of the corner of his eye. 

"You like these, right?" he asks, pointing to a glass dishware with a pair of tongs in his hand. 

"Yeah," you say weakly. 

Steve starts plating you up. He points to a plate, raises his eyebrows and waits for you to nod. He sees the light in your eyes when you come across your favourite dessert and picks up a new plate to give you a very generous serving, giggling boyishly when you protest. 

Back under the safety of the umbrella you nibble at things happily whilst Steve demolishes a cheeseburger. 

He chases his mouthful with a huge swig of coke. "Feel better?" he asks.

"Sorry," you say, and wince. 

Steve wipes his hand dry on one of the napkins between you and reaches over to squeeze your thigh, the other still dedicated to his coveted cheeseburger. His fingertips feel hotter than his palm. They knead the soft dough of your inner thigh kindly. 

"Eat your food, babe." 

You eat until you're full and wipe your face with your napkin. Steve has turned so his back is to the table, sipping his coke and watching over the kids in the pool with a distinct yet reluctant maternal gaze. 

"Do you wanna swim?" he asks, lolling his head to you lazily. It's more than charming. 

"You can't swim after you eat. It's an unspoken rule." 

"I'll keep an eye on you. I'm, like, a certified lifeguard, you know?" 

You glance at the pool. Everyone is having fun, but…

"I'm okay by here," you say. 

Steve holds his hand out palm up and wriggles his fingers until you take it. When you do he clasps it with the other hand and holds them to his stomach. 

"That's fine. Whatever you wanna do." 

"Steve… if you wanna go swim you don't have to stay with me. You shouldn't," you say softly. 

"I want to sit with you." He rubs a hand down your arm absentmindedly. "If you want me to do things with you-" his eyes dart to the buffet, "you only have to ask." 

You feel an embarrassed heat wash over you. 

"I actually really like doing things with you. That's, like, my favourite thing," he continues, tone lightening.

"Stop flirting with me," you deflect. 

His laugh is barking. Loud and rough, he smiles and looks down at your lap and then back to your face, chuckling. "Can't help it." 

Suddenly, his face goes strange. Concerned. You feel your hackles rise, especially when he pulls one of his hands away from yours, a clear trepidation lining his features. 

"What?" you ask worriedly. 

Steve brings his fingertips to his mouth and licks it quickly. "Tsssss," he says, pressing it to your shoulder. "Oh, baby, you're hot." 

His feigned concern is so genuinely believable that it takes you a good ten seconds to realise he's still flirting with you. You choke on air, flustered beyond words. 

His winning smile is so handsome you can't find it in yourself to be mad. 

"Cool down in the pool with me?" you ask him eventually, a poorly constrained smile playing across your lips. 

He beams and almost leaps across the bench to kiss your cheek. 

Let Me In

Steve Harrington X Eddie Munson

Eddie wants so badly to tell Steve the pressing matters on his mind. So much so that he's willing to bike all the way in the rain to show him just how he feels.

⚠️ Warnings: Slight Angst, mentions of scars, kinda sexual wording?⚠️

The rain poured and poured nonstop outside of the Family Video Store. It was dark and dreary, but when it was matched with the most spontaneous bike ride and a Walkman that played Iron Maiden, it was just perfect. The puddles splashed around as the new droplets of water joined the ground, making short tapping noises almost as if the sky was speaking in Morose Code. The night was just starting to fall which meant that the sky was a dark and hazy blue-grey, a calming and pretty sight to passersby. The stars were just starting to peek out as they twinkled onto the dark pavement below. The only thing that lit up the lot was the Family Video Store fluorescent lighting which shone on the cracks and pebbles of the pavement Eddie rode on, bike wheels slightly scuffing up the earth. His curly brown hair was now down to his shoulders since it was wet beyond belief and his clothes were equally soaked. His Hellfire Club shirt stuck to his midsection and his black ripped jeans became ten times heavier with the weight of the water holding him down. Still, he pushed through as he caught a glimpse of the writing on his shoes, urging him to go on. In the whitest parts of the soles Steve had written him little phrases. The little doodles of stars and smiley faces added to the butterflies starting to form in the pit of Eddie's chest as he knew what he was about to do.

The bike made a scraping noise as he came to an immediate halt the moment he made it to the front doors. He couldn't wait until he could exchange it for a motorbike of sorts, once he graduated highschool once and for all that is. Until then, the red chipped paint and the handlebars that locked up with every given chance would have to suffice. Throwing the transportation device onto the sidewalk, Eddie gave himself a slight pep talk before he went into the store. The movie posters that had been printed on the windows added to the feeling of excitement when he noticed one of them was The Evil Dead. Fiddling with the rings on one of his hands, he shook his wrist as the anxiety of the situation finally hit him. Still raining, he knew his slight eyeliner must've run down his face and would most likely cause a scene once he was inside the familiar store. Hopefully, since it was just closing, Eddie would be able to get in undetected via lack of customers.

Pushing open the doors, a bell resounds throughout the entirety of the small building, signifying the presence of someone entering. The carpet looked the same as he remembered, dirty and printed with that horrid triangular design exclusive to the 80's. However, even though the front desk stayed the same, the rest of the displays had been moved around expertly to accommodate all of the vhs tapes that littered the shelves. Eddie pushed on further inside, starting to regret his decision until his eyes made direct contact with Steve "The Hair" Harrington, wearing the most ridiculous green vest.

It felt as though time itself had stopped as if Eddie and Steve were the only beings in the world. Steve's hair was everywhere which told the metalhead that he had been stressed and ripping at his hair again. His light blue polo underneath the horrendous work attire brought out the phenomenal golden color of his skin and his dark brown eyes looked Eddie up and down. From the tips of his toes to the hair on his head, Steve took everything in and drank it into his memory, keeping it there as if he needed to remember every minute detail about Eddie and his physicality. The leather jacket under his patched up denim and his ridiculous perm that seemed to be exclusive to the music nerds of Hawkins High. The bats that were hidden under Eddie's clothing called out to Steve in an odd way, as if his fingers burned from the possibility of being able to graze over that portion of Eddie's skin.

Eddie offered up a slight smile to which the other boy returned, a grin that had melted the hearts of many and offered a sort of solace for the kids Eddie played D&D with. Steve was very handsome, he thought. It made him want to melt into the floor everytime he got to see the smile that showed off his brilliant teeth.

"Ahoy!- er- shit that was my last job, sorry." Steve chuckled and pushed the hair that was falling into his eyes away from his face, tucking a strand of it behind his ear as he leant on the red desk from behind. The telephone on the right of his arm was just as red as the counter and presumably Eddie's cheeks by this point. Thinking about Harrington was one thing, seeing him in the flesh was another.

"Ah it's okay, I didn't come to rent a movie." Eddie put one of his feet in front of the other, gently tapping the sole to the tip of the shoe in an anxious manner. He tried to look at anything but the beautiful boy in front of him, finding it excruciatingly hard for him to think about anything else. The ceiling tiles, the movies, the floor, the telephone, everything was so disinteresting compared to the radiance of Steve Harrington. Eddie was torn from his thoughts the moment he saw the pen lettering on his shoe.

'Never change, Munson.'

Steve had written that with a borrowed pen from Robin at one of Eddie's Corroded Coffin shows. He had played a total of two songs and there were about ten people who showed, but Steve was one of them. Eddie wouldn't have had it any other way; watching the popular boy glance at him over his guitar, tongue slightly escaping his lips as he glanced at Eddie's hands which were put to work on the strings, playing the familiar Metallica tune.

"What can I do for you then, Eddie? ...Did you bike here?" Steve asked, voice laced with slight concern. It never failed to make Eddie's insides twist and turn into something one could only describe as pure and utter admiration for another human being.

"I-I-" He began, but got lost in the words. How would he come clean about his feelings? How would he possibly be able to put into words the exact way he felt whenever Steve drove him to school or when he would smile at him from afar? How would he be able to get Steve to comprehend how he felt when he came to one of his shows? How would Eddie put into words how badly he wanted to touch Steve beyond the friendly handshakes and fist bumps?

"I think I might have a sweater lying around somewhere in the back if you want some dry clothes." Steve started to flip up the corner of the desk so he could walk out to the break room. He was wearing those stupid khakis that were so exclusive to the father community of Hawkins that Eddie would've had to suppress a laugh if he wasn't so invigorated with the current task at hand. Moving towards him, he threw all caution to the wind as he grabbed the other boy's hand, stopping him from moving any further and replacing the comfortable expression on his face with one of confusion. Steve's brows were furrowed but his hands and face were hot unbeknownst to the metalhead. This was the closest they had been in proximity by themselves, without the familiar screaming of the kids or the incessant nagging from Robin and Nancy. Just pure and utter silence and two boys looking for the right words to say.

"Steve."

"Eddie."

Eddie shifted in his spot, moving his jacket up with his shoulders and uncomfortably being awkward. Suddenly the store seemed hot and suffocating, the walls closing in on the two of them in his mind. Yet even with this sense of claustrophobia, he wanted to get even closer to Steve and to feel his hot breath exhaling against his skin and to feel the heat of him flush against his chest. To play with the hair that was always freshly sprayed with Farrah Faucet and the trace over the imperfections on his skin. Every scar, freckle, and mole on his body yearned to be touched by Steve's lips and the thought alone made him shudder in excitement. He knew he had to say this now before he was never able to again.

"I think-"

"Think what?" Steve harmlessly glanced at his face once more, trying to pick out what it was he was feeling.

"I think I feel more towards you than just a friend." Eddie finally let the words roll off his tongue and into the open air, surrounding the two of them as though they were music notes, echoing inside his mind and bouncing off the body of the boy in front of him. For a moment, Eddie felt relieved but quickly composed himself as he awaited a response.

Steve felt very very weird. He had never felt this type of way in his life, being at an indecision of what to do. He didn't know whether to freak out and shun away the thoughts he knew he had about Eddie months prior to his confession, or to accept it and let the boy know he felt the same. This would change everything and yet, it would change nothing. Eddie was so gorgeous. His hair was still dripping onto the floor that Steve was supposed to clean up after his shift, which ended twenty minutes ago. The chains and patches loosely placed onto his jeans and jacket made Steve's insides go wild at the thought of tracing over them with his hands, cautiously wondering what they would feel like under his tongue. But- despite all this- he remained expressionless, glued to his spot and not saying anything.

Eddie felt his heart break. He felt every inch of his chest erupt into fire, killing the butterflies that stemmed from his admiration and longing and anxiousness. It was all too much for him to handle. The worst part was knowing that he would have to go on as though nothing ever happened between him and the King of Hawkins High. As if every aching of his heart wasn't pointed in the direction of the one person on earth he'd wanted to be his lover since day one.

Turning around, he walked out of Family Video. The sky was now fully dark and the rain still beat against the windows, his bike now fully wet with the water that sloshed down from the gutters on the roof and the water that filled the puddles in the pavement. His heart felt similar to that in a way- just an open cavity slowly drowning from the inside out.

"Eddie!" Steve shouted from the door, but Eddie didn't want to hear it. He mounted his bike with tears in his eyes, mixing with the rain that fell from the clouds overhead. He paid no mind to Steve, who was now in the rain with him. It wasn't until he started to ride off that Steve knew he couldn't let him go. He couldn't just allow him to think that he didn't feel the same longing as he did. As if he didn't think about loving him in every extremity. Running faster, Steve managed to stand in Eddie's direction with his arms held out in an attempt to stop him from going any further. The tears threatening to spill from eyes became too much as Steve allowed them to fall, an emotion he didn't portray often.

"Eddie. I think about you that way too!"

The metalhead hopped off the bike. Standing just a few feet apart from the boy he'd grown to love, he felt the water escaping his lungs as the universe allowed him to breathe again. It was as if someone had conducted a surgery on his heart and fixed him and all the spontaneity he held within him before. All because Steve said the three words that he'd thought walking into the video store tonight.

"I love you."

And there it was. Rain still pouring relentlessly and both boys with cheeks so red you'd think they'd gotten a sunburn in the middle of autumn, there it was. The raw and beautiful emotion of two lovers who had been torn apart by society but still found a way back to one another. A couple of hesitant footsteps in front of them and the soft sobs that could be heard from Steve pushed the couple closer and closer until eventually the thoughts of tasting one another became actions. The thoughts of love and emotion became words and the intensity of their attraction became feverish as they allowed themselves to consume each other in their grasp under the harsh rain.

"I wish you hadn't waited so long to tell me that, Harrington. Otherwise, I would've been right here this whole time." Eddie said, wiping a stray tear away from his face once they broke away. A slight chuckle left him as he took in Steve's flustered but beautiful state. His hair was flatter than a pancake against his head and it made Eddie love him even more knowing that he willingly followed him out in the rain even at the expense of his hair.

"May I kiss you again?" Steve asked ever so softly, finally allowing him to voice the emotions he'd been feeling for so long.

"Of course." Eddie said, smiling and leaning in for another one.

The sky crackled above with a beautiful blue and purple lightning, shining down over the lovers who felt just as electric as the weather.

THE WALKING DEAD

Carl Grimes:

Nightly Encounter: Depression comes after losing your favorite person. What's worse: the fear of dying or the fear of knowing everyone else around you will die first?

(Romance/Angst)

In-Between Days: Finding more ways to pass time becomes harder and harder as the apocalypse continues. Just a day in with Carl!

(Romance/Fluff/Very slight angst)

•LADY LUCK•

LADYBUG X READER X TANGERINE

Having to work with the most annoying person on the planet, your feelings for Mr. Bucket Hat definitely change the longer you're forced to be around him. But what happens when you end up in a killing spree free-for-all and the British guy from the next compartment over decides he has the hots for you too?

⚠️ Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of blood and gore, Sexual Innuendos, Mentions of weapons, Mentions of death ⚠️

Part One!!!

"You're in, Mantis."

The deep voice over your earpiece came through clear and curt as you made your way over to the train car you'd be stationed in until the mission was completed. Leaving the station, the bullet train made its way out of Tokyo and you could see the bright lights starting to dim as it pushed on towards the less populated portions of the city. You weren't phased by the sudden acceleration of the train as you had been on one of these a few years back when you'd been scouted for the team.

Thinking back to the night you were scouted to work under The White Death, you smiled at the memory. A train moving so fast that one would expect it to be safe from gunmen and their attempts at running a Cartel. Your family had watched in horror as the men infiltrated the train and held a couple people hostage, ready to use their lives for their own personal benefit. You were so stupid back then; a naivety that of which only comes with the contemptness of lifestyle. A younger version of yourself with less experience with this whole secret agent thing. You ended up saving your brother, three at the time, by turning the gun back onto the first person you’d ever killed. The White Death had been on that train and offered to free you from any charges you would face for murder if you had agreed to work under him. So, without much of a choice, you swore yourself to secrecy and began your work, never making it back home to spend time with the family members you had saved. You thought of them from time to time and how the news of your disappearance would have affected them. Not knowing if you made it out of that shitshow alive, that sort of thing. If only they hadn’t been captured by the same gunmen you joined The White Death to kill.  

The man’s face still haunted your dreams. A gruesome imagination and a harsh grin plastered over his older face. A giant scar ran across the bottom of his chin and made its way up to his nose, stopping directly under his tired but blood-thirsty eyes. 

"How much money is in the briefcase?" You asked Wyatt, the person who had been speaking to you over the small intercom. He had been assigned as your Handler from the White Death himself and he very much hated this position. It was your first day back on the job after helping to clean up the Bolivia incident.  

"Enough to pay ransom for that idiotic stupid family of yours." He said, becoming cross with you within a matter of seconds it seemed. You wished it was easier to connect with your partner, but he had made it very clear from the get-go that there wasn't going to be any friendly aspects of the job.

“Ironic how you say ‘idiotic’ and ‘stupid’ in the same sentence considering how redundant that is.” You snapped back, sliding into one of the empty seats that were furthest away from everyone else. A window seat in the back provided you with the perfect view of a few of the platforms you'd be hitting and the places you'd encounter on your trip. The seats were an uncomfortable upholstery and were colored a terrible blue which you assumed was to be calming but it was far from it. The rest of the fucking compartment was that hideous color that one only looks at with fondness once they reach their last stop of the night. The time when one would part ways with the train and all of the single-serving people they were forced to interact with while they waited to finally make it to wherever they needed to go. Leaving the train and knowing you wouldn't have to see that god-awful color again until your next boarding.

Taking a quick glance around your compartment, you take out your computer and paperwork to make it seem as though you were on a business trip. In a way, you were, but people wouldn't think anything of you talking into an earpiece if there looked to be a reason someone was calling. Sticking the gun from the corner of your pocket into the crevice between the wall of the train and the seat, you try your absolute hardest to get comfortable until the next stop, when you knew you would have to act fast and run to the baggage area without suspicion. Assuming that’s where the case would be. You hoped you would be able to take it without much of a fight... you were tired of cleaning up the aftermath of people not giving you your way. Blood stains don’t come out easily. 

Suddenly the seat in front of you was occupied. It startled you a bit at first since you were supposed to be alone, but you quickly recollected yourself and took note of the person before you. Longer blonde hair, thick rimmed glasses and a stupid bucket hat topped of this mystery man's look as he stared out into the walkway as if he was looking for someone or something. It seemed that he hadn't noticed you yet.

"Ahem." You said, clearing your throat to try and get the man to leave as this section of the train was clearly occupied.

“Mantis? Something wrong?” Wyatt answered from the earpiece, trying to make sure that the mission had started out going directly as planned. Knowing that you wouldn’t be able to have a chitchat with him while this stranger was in the vicinity, you switched it off and directed your attention at the person before you.

"Oh hey." The man said, turning around and staring you in the eyes. You could see him look you up and down before directing his gaze back to yours with an apologetic smile on his face. A strand of his bleached blonde hair fell from the hat atop his head and placed itself right in front of his eyes.

"This seat's taken."

He made an "oh" shape with his mouth as he nodded and smiled. Thanking the universe that that was all it took to get him to leave, you turn back to the window to wait for him to get up and go somewhere else. When that didn't happen, you turned back to the man only to see that he had moved a seat over instead of sitting in the one across from you by the window.

"Uh? Hello?" You said, shifting some of your stuff over to opposite side of the table so he wouldn't realize the papers weren’t written on. 

"Oh hey again." He said once more, smiling at you and taking off his hat. His demeanor was giving “sexy professor” and you hated to admit it, but he was damn fine. You wondered how old he was but soon decided it didn't matter. This wasn't a social trip.

"Hey, yeah. I thought I mentioned that this seat was taken?" You said in a calm but firm tone, trying to ward him off from your mission. You weren't going to be able to talk to Wyatt about anything with this dumbass bucket hat dude eyeing you up every now and then.

Running his hands through his hair to restore some of its volume, he looked back up at you. "Yeah, you mentioned that. That's why I'm over here now." He said. So he was the asshole flirtatious type. Perfect.

"A seat over?"

"Well you said that one was taken."

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. What was with this guy? You thought American tourists at least knew that the trains in Japan were supposed to be quiet as a sign of respect to the other passengers. Guess not with this guy.

"You can't go sit in another compartment? Really?" You said, now letting some of your annoyance shine through.

"Are there any other hot people in those cars?" He asked with an aura of innocence despite the words that were leaving his mouth.

"Not any who'd be willing to talk to you."

"Feisty. That's how I like them."

You rolled your eyes in his direction and started to gather your things. If he was going to insist on sitting there, you would move yourself. You just had about everything packed up while he complained about you not wanting to sit next to him until you remembered the gun you had stuffed into the seat earlier. There was no way you'd be able to get it out now that this man was over here, trying his hardest to flirt his way into a better viewpoint of him. You put your things down and sat in your seat from before, hating that you had to give in to his pleas since you wouldn't be able to remove your weapon.

"Ah! You changed your mind." He said, a grin on his face and a confident tone now replacing his one from earlier.

"Whatever. When's your next stop?" You asked, trying to see how long you would have to deal with this moron for. An hour you could take, but if he was going all the way to Kyoto then this might possibly be the worst mission you've been given.

He smiled. "Whenever I can get out. Might take me until Kyoto, who knows."

Great. Just fucking great.

...

Tangerine held his hands in his suit pockets, feeling around for the familiarity of his pocket watch. He needed to know when phase two of their plan would commence and when he would be able to make his escape with his brother in tow, safe and sound. He hated having to be in this business but he would do whatever it took to keep Lemon safe and sound.

Walking into the train car with the hideous blue accent, he held a peculiar silver case in his hand with a sticker that looked as though it came out of a kid's coloring book. This sticker was a ploy to keep any wandering eyes out as they would assume it belonged to a five-year old or someone one that age. The blue train sticker beamed up at him as though it were urging him forward towards the luggage compartment ahead only for him to place it above him and Lemon's seats.

"I can take it." Lemon said, pressing for the case in Tangerine's hand. There was something magnificent about the case itself, as though it held a power that would trap everyone's fixation and would possess even the strongest of morals. It gleamed under the soft lighting and for a moment Tangerine recoiled. If he allowed Lemon to take the case and it be misplaced, their whole mission could be askew. But, he trusted his brother. Which is what led him to handing over the shiny object with a slight hesitation.

"Be careful with it, please." He said, worry prevalent in his eyes. He was tired from last night's event in Soho.

"I'm a secret agent. Of course I'm bloody careful." Lemon replied as he took the baggage and went to another compartment while Tangerine looked for a seat. Seeing one open in the back, he moved towards it with a calm expression on his face only to find that it was already occupied by a man in a stupid bucket hat and-

One of the most beautiful human beings he had ever set eyes on.

Her eyes were a beautiful color, a contrast from the hideousness of the train compartment before him. The way she held herself as though she knew her self worth, but was still modest and humble. Her hair which fell just slightly above her eyes as she moved about the compartment, gathering the miscellaneous papers and electronics. As soon as everything was gathered up, she froze in place and stared at her now empty seat before sitting back down again. There was something about that stare; a hidden fear.

He needed to know what it was. Whatever force compelled him to make his way to her direction pulled at his shoes and drove him to her seat where they locked eyes. Her mouth muttering in annoyance at the fact that there were now two pretty men screwing up her mission and not leaving her alone.

"Is-is he bothering you?" Tangerine managed to get out an entire sentence to his surprise with pertinence to the situation. He had thought all he was capable of would be a hello or a simple nod. He surprised himself quite a bit today.

Your eyes widened in sudden admiration for the man in the blue suit. "Oh yes. Please tell him to go away." You said, hoping that this British man would be your savior against Mr. Bucket Hat who was trying so hard to insist that his name was Ladybug.

Ladybug followed your eyes to Tangerine and he smiled. "I can appreciate a fine ass man when I see one." He said, leaning back against the seat and making himself more and more comfortable as the train rolled off into the distance.

"You-you-" Tangerine started but whatever confidence he had upon starting this conversation left him entirely as he tried to tell off this "Ladybug" guy. Embarrassed, he quickly composed himself and looked at the man. "I would leave this woman alone if I were you. It's not polite."

Tangerine then went further towards the front of the compartment with his hands back in his pockets as he twiddled his thumbs and thought over the encounter while he was with Lemon.

"Something happen?" He asked, concerned as to why his usually stoic brother had taken a turn down Anxiety Lane. With his eyes wide and jaw clenched Tangerine looked as though he had an encounter with a ghost shortly before sitting down with Lemon to have this conversation. 

“I think-” He began, before he looked back over at the person a couple seats ahead of him. She was still sitting by the doofus with the hat but seemed to be quite interested in whatever the man had to say all of a sudden. Almost as soon as he was distracted by her once more, he noticed something off about his brother which sent him into a bit of a British frenzy.

“What the fuck are you doing!? Trying to show off your blood-stained shirt to everyone in Tokyo?” Tangerine whisper shouted and motioned towards his brother’s coat which was propped open, blood from last night’s events in Soho dried onto his white button-down. 

“Well, yeah. I want people to see my new tie.”

...

The gun that was stashed away by your side begged you to grab it and threaten Ladybug to leave you alone. He was really starting to get on your nerves (attractive as he may be) and you had hoped that British guy would’ve come to your rescue only for him to fail at that. Today was not a good day for keeping your hopes up, that’s for sure. 

“Hey, what kind of name is Mantis anyways?” The man before you questioned upon noticing the inscription of a name on your luggage overhead. He looked smug, in a way, as if he knew you were being glued to the spot due to your hidden weapon. 

“What kind of name is Ladybug?” You asked in retort, trying to get under this guy’s skin like he was getting under yours. 

“It’s a codename. Ever heard of those before, Miss Pretentious?”

You stopped your bickering and looked at him- really looked at him. The glasses, the hat, the bleached hair that looked like it was horribly done over the kitchen sink. It was a disguise. And a horrible one at that. 

You leaned over the table and he followed suit, the two of you being so close you could feel each other’s breaths over the cheap train seating. You switched from your usually calm attitude to a more serious and intentional tone as you wanted to figure out just what exactly this Ladybug wanted with you. It wasn’t to pointlessly flirt with you, no. It was to feel you out. 

“First day on the job, newbie?” You asked, now finally understanding what he was truly doing here. And by the sound of the codename, it was assigned to him, not something he chose for himself.

“Oh so you’re an agent too?” he said, pulling out a Fiji water bottle and removing the cap with a knowing smile, “figures the sexy lady might be an enemy of mine.”

Your hand clenched at your side as you realized the weight of your words, becoming even more irritated than you already were. What did this guy want? What business did he have being on this train or Japan in general? Was he after the case too?

“I can see the little gears spinning in your mind,” he said, taking a drink from his water bottle and placing it down on the table, “It’s alright, I won’t say anything to anyone else.”

“Who do you think you are?” You asked, now fully invested with what the man was saying but also pissed off that he had come over and somewhat blown your cover within minutes of you being on the train.

“I’ve tried to tell you already. The name’s Ladybug. I’m filling in for Carver.”

“Why would you tell me that? You do realize that being undercover means that you’re undercover?”

Ladybug played with the cap of his water bottle and flicked it off the top so it flew towards your seat. He was all kinds of childish, this guy.

“Between us is a wall,” he began, checking his watch to see the time as he continued to explain his reasoning, “and within every wall is a window. Er, shit- I mean a door..”

...

Tangerine felt himself focus back to the mission at hand. He quickly scolded himself for being tired enough for his mind to drift in every direction other than the right one, letting himself become distracted by a girl nonetheless. He straightened out his tie and placed his hands on the table, his hair slicked back and the watch on his wrist gave others the illusion of his put-togetherness. Inside, however, he was an absolute mess as he ran over every intrusive thought stationed in his brain. The White Death, his son, the case. It was all a lot for one individual to ponder.

He did have his brother by his side though, and that made things more worthwhile. Lemon always made the job easier as he was someone Tangerine could truly confide in. The two had definitely seen the weight of the world and surrounded themselves with the death that came with work. It meant something to be able to come home to someone who at least knew of the things he had to deal with and could sympathize with his negativity. 

Those were the moments he loved his brother. When he was rambling on about Thomas the Tank Engine, though, he did not. 

“Gordon. Gordon is the strongest and the bravest of the group. Like Tangerine, for example.” Lemon huffed out with a dopey smile and placed the train sticker onto the deadliest man alive’s son’s forehead. The Russian boy did not look pleased with Lemon’s antics as he shrugged off the situation entirely and removed the sticker, placing it onto the sleeve of Lemon’s coat. 

“Tangerine? Like the fruit?” The boy said, glancing at the two men whom he woke up to next. His face was covered with those kitchy do-it-yourself tattoos which read various phrases, most of which were just “fuck you” in different languages. His hair was disheveled and curly to the point where it looked too unkempt to possibly be on one’s head. To be fair though, he hadn’t showered for at least three days before Tangerine and his brother had to force him on this train back to his unloving father. 

“Like the blessings.” Lemon rolled his eyes as they had been asked that question one too many times that day. 

“I’m supposed to put my trust into people named after fruits?”

“They’re codenames. A delinquent like you should know a thing or two about that. And no, you shouldn’t put your trust into us since we’re taking you back to your father.” Tangerine said, matter-of-fact. This trust fund baby needed a kick in the balls. 

This made the delinquent get immediately frustrated as he realized where he was now. He had worked diligently to remove himself from familial affairs and now he had a one-way ticket back to the man he hated the most. He tried to get up from his seat, but Lemon was quick to draw the gun from his coat pocket, revealing the blood spatters from before. Hesitantly, the White Death’s son sat back down and placed his hands on the table in a manner similar to Tangerine. 

“Good, good. That’s how I figured this conversation would be going.” Lemon sighed and turned to his brother who wore a matching expression of exhaustion. 

“Now, we’re going to deliver you to your father and bring him that briefcase. Then, your rich little family will pay us as we deserve,” Tangerine began, unfolding his hands and using them to gesture what he was saying, “and because your father hired the best assassins in the world, we’ll be able to keep our arms.” 

“Indeed, we will.” Lemon said, grinning ever so slightly at how uncomfortable the atmosphere around their victim was getting. He definitely enjoyed the interrogation portions of his job. 

Suddenly, the tattooed boy grinned even more maliciously than Lemon as he leaned over the table to enunciate his next sentence, “What makes you think my father will let you keep your arms?” 

Tangerine spoke next, “Because he knows of our skill. He hired us for a reason, dipshit,” his British accent poked through his words, “And if either of us is to lose our limbs, it’ll be Lemon, not me.” 

“Why do I have to lose my arms? You know how much I like them.” Lemon whined. 

“Because I need mine.”

“Who’s to say I don’t need mine?”

Tangerine sighed once more and turned to his brother who looked so innocent holding a gun. 

“Because I get more kills than you do.” So what if it was a petty argument? Tangerine was quite tired of hearing Thomas the Tank Engine references and if this would shut his brother up, then so be it. However, Lemon retaliated. 

“What about the job in Bolivia?”

“What about it?” 

“Well, you know. We work best together. Our seventeen kills just trying to get this guy on a train with us.” Lemon raised the gun up a little higher to spark some sort of fierceness within the boy sitting next to him. The Russian seemed to have stopped listening in on the conversation and was more intently focused on what was happening directly outside of the train window.

“Sixteen. Sixteen kills.” Tangerine corrected, blinking his eyes in fake astonishment towards Lemon’s false counting.

“Seventeen, actually.”

This was going to be a long ride to Morioka.  

...

The train accelerated even faster as it traveled throughout the entirety of Tokyo, wind whipping around the sides of the steel structure and piercing through the wind. It was going so fast that even the windows were hard to see out of; occasionally one would see a building here and there but everything else was hard to make out. 

Tapping her nails against her book which read “The Communist Manifesto,” Prince waited for the man she had stunned to wake up and allow her to talk of her plans. Her outfit worked in the way that she had hoped it would, as she was trying to come off as an innocent schoolgirl. It was such a ridiculous concept in the secret agent world for her to not be taken seriously considering the fact that she was born a woman. Well, how she would change that perception when she finally got her way.

Gasping for air upon awakening, the man whom had searched the train with a gun to kill Prince (and had bumped into Ladybug moments before boarding) took immediate notice of his surroundings, looking for his attacker. Upon seeing the young girl dressed in bright pink, he frowned and the lines around his eyes followed suit, wrinkles on his face despite only being thirty-seven. Prince was supposed to be a man he had presumed, as his son Wataru had been pushed off of a building in spite of his involvement with The White Death.

“Who are you?” Yuichi, the man, spat out in the best English he could muster. His confident and mysterious demeanor left him once he realized that the woman was holding a gun under her table, directly pointed at him with the intent of firing if he misbehaved. Yuichi took the best course of action and decided to shrink away into his chair with the red upholstery, trying his best to be swallowed whole by the velvety fabric. 

“I,” the girl began, looking down at her finger which was placed on the trigger, “am The Prince.” 

Yuichi glared at her and thought back to his son who was currently in the hands of the hospital that took him in after the fall. His mind ran through images of Wataru, small and frail in the confines of the bed, hooked up to miscellaneous machines and tubes. 

“And you, Yuichi, are going to help me.”

“How do you figure?” He said, knowing that she had the high ground due to the weapon she had stolen from him moments after striking him with a taser. 

She took the gun and wrapped a pink hairtie around the handle; the beads on it were shining as the lights beamed down overhead. Prince then placed it on the table with the body of the gun facing Yuichi himself. She glanced to the binding around his wrists, and reached over to free him before resuming her position in her chair, just about to reach for the gun when-

-Yuichi made a leap for it and grabbed it, facing it towards The Prince who was now smiling.

“I wonder how my hitman is doing, watching over your son. Let’s call him, shall we?”

...

A/N: Thank you so much for reading the first installment of my Bullet Train series! I want this to be fast-paced and scattered like the movie, and I tried my best to make all of the plotlines match up while also including another character. I think this is the first fanfiction I’ve written where I’ve taken out a notebook and pen to make this go as smoothly without issues as possible. I hope to see more Tangerine and Ladybug fanfics as I am in love with this movie. Enjoy!

💛🦐