Peanut Butter Death Wish

THIS IS THE CUTEST THING I HAVE EVER READ IN MY LIFE.

Thank you for making this, you're such a beautiful writer and I love your work.

💛🦐

Scars

Cliff Booth x reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: talks of knives and injures that lead to the scars

Author’s Note: Hi love! Thank you for being so kind and I hope that you enjoy this one! I thought it was pretty cute but that might be just me considering I did in fact write this lol. Enjoy!

Requested: by anon, hello! i really love all of your cliff booth x reader imagines! can i request one where cliff and the reader are cuddling or something and the reader gets curious about how he got his scars and/or what injuries he has gotten over the years (and it is just really fluffy)? Tysm

Summary: the request

Genre: flufff

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif)

Keep reading

Tourniquet

DUNCAN VIZLA X READER

⚠️ Warnings: Uhhh kinda extreme gore, I mean I definitely go into intense detail about some of the way these people die so probably don't read this if you're squeamish, blood, death, murder, language, mentions of drugs and alcohol, I think that's it but yeah ⚠️

Duncan comes to save you and risks his life in the process.

Duncan had originally wanted nothing more than to retire from this god-forsaken line of work he'd been in for over thirty years. To succumb fully to the relaxation that was unemployed bliss, somewhere far off in the lost woods with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Maybe he'd try for another dog again, although he wasn't too lucky with his PTSD responses around Rusty. Wherever in the world he may be or whomever he'd be with, he just wanted some goddamn peace and quiet, thankyouverymuch.

Today, he was not so lucky. Of course, he had to take the one job offer to end his career with a bang and to coagulate all of the money he'd originally been promised to begin with. One job after another, one shot fired towards a man's head and a stapler gun to his ankles, all led him here. At the front of this house. On a rescue mission. Which would then lead to a hitman mission. Obviously. Unfortunately.

Duncan sighed and took in the landscape with his one good eye, courtesy of the copious amount of torture he'd pushed through over the past month. Although his wounds were still healing and he felt their burn underneath the folds of his fabric coat, he had to act fast as there was no time to waste. He needed to put his life on the line once again; as he had for so many years working as a hitman. But now, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. A reward to his revenge. Nothing that was false promises of money or strippers or nights out at the bar that would only situate him for a week before he grew bored. No, at the end of this mission was the promise of your safety and the potential of the two of you living this retired life he'd dreamt of for so long.

He only had to kill 30+ men and his former "mission mates" before getting to you and fleeing this Damocles shit for good.

Easy, in theory. In actuality, he was probably going to end up dead. Unless he could control himself through his rage and use it as an adrenalin boost rather than a distraction to his plan.

The mansion was huge and lavish in comparison to the wood houses Duncan had come to love in Montana. It was almost entirely frivolous; the magnitude of Blut's weath, all gained from those who did his dirty work and never out of his own aspirations.

Seeing the coast was fairly clear, he crafted a plan in his head as to how he was going to make it in and out of the place unscathed. Two guards to his left on the rooftop, facing outwards. Meaning that there must be at least another two on the other side, not knowing from which direction he'd come. Another one in the upper right window that could easily be taken out with a sniper. A few fifteen or so on the ground in hidden positions, all of which he knew considering he used to work for the damn place. Assuming Blut's usual stupidity would mean that the plans for an attack on Damocles would be unchanged, minus those who were inside of the place itself.

Time for action. He took off his heavy coat and draped it on the tree nearest to him so as not to be weighed down by the material. His thick wool sweater would be more than enough to keep him warm, alongside his steel-toed boots. Underneath his coat and concealed by his initial wardrobe was a now visible belt with two loaded guns on either side. His hand was clad with brass knuckles and he had a knife in his boot, only for an extreme situation. Worse comes to worse, he still had that piece of shrapnel under the second layer of his skin from one of his older missions he could cut out if he really had to. Eyepatch in place and hair tied in an up-do, he was ready to start shooting people.

Hey, maybe if they were all dead he'd finally get his $8 million he'd been promised.

It happened as quickly as the next snowflake hit the ground; Blut's mansion was under attack. They'd been expecting him, but as he was called The Black Kaiser, he was the best of the best. He knew their ins and outs and was now thankful he kept a friendly but protective distance from everyone while he was in the org so that they wouldn't know the specificities for his own attack. One skillful shot to the top left roof was enough to pierce through the necks of both the men standing atop it, one falling off after the other and landing on the ground with a thick thud. Blasted through arteries and a fuckton of blood pooled out the edges from where they'd fallen, creating intricate patterns on the wintery terrain and leaving giant stains on the sides of the building.

Now understanding their mission was a go, the man from the window received the hint and withdrew himself from the window, racing back inside most likely to tell Blut about the outside commotion. No matter. He'd take his time to paint the entirety of the green estate red with the fallen victims of Damocles.

He'd been right about the guards from the top of the building being on the other side, except there were three instead of two. They rushed around looking for the potential places Duncan could be hiding, so as to scope him out first and be the ones to receive the praise from their fat ass nepo-baby boss. They must all be younger and have no idea the amount of years and experience he'd had in this industry because Duncan was in plain fucking sight with his guns readied in both hands.

"Bye." He said, and shot them at the same time, making two of the guards meet the same tragic fate as their friends. One, two, they hit the ground with more thuds and guts, spreading their entrails further out than most people would think the human body could reach. One of their intestines had wrapped around the edges of the window panes, a man still alive wishing he wasn't. He was screaming from the upper floor awaiting his fall as he was held up by the gaping wound in his stomach where Duncan had shot him once more. The last guard at the top of the roof looked down in horror and jumped himself, taking his own life and going limp once his neck made a loud snap against the pavement under the soft snow.

PTSD flashbacks edged the corners of Duncan's one-eyed vision, trying their best to stop him as he witnessed the horror of human death via his hands. He was used to this feeling, of wanting to curl up and revert into himself, to never see anyone or anything again and be tortured as payment for his crimes. He was just a man, not a deity. Why should he choose- or rather- listen to who chooses who should meet an untimely death? What makes him above the others within his species?

Because of their frequent visits, he shut his visions down and went soulless. That was the only way to truly do his job and to continue to do it well within the moment and not fight with the side that was desperate to live in peace and an understanding of humanity. He was a pacifist at heart, truly. And even though it went against his psychological beliefs of the world, he had to pretend that intentions outweighed his actions in the sense of his killing and this mission; that getting to you was worth the rampant murderous spree of all these people, paid by their boss just as he was to do the same tasks he's doing.

Burrowing into himself, he rolls to the nearest icicle filled tree, grabbing the man who was hidden here with the gun and twisting his neck until he heard the sounds of life escaping his throat. He discarded his now empty gun for the one in the holster of the other man, making sure it was fully loaded before proceeding to also extract the menthols from the upper part of the stranger's jacket.

"Mange Tak." He said, Danish for thank you. He could have a little class while he was at it.

Noticing the tree he was under and the man whom he'd just killed, Blut was either following their Five-Ten plan or the Outskirts plan, both of which were effective in combat. The Five-Ten plan was created by Vivian herself meaning that there would be five on the perimeter of the compound, five on the rooftop, and ten within the building before whomever was entering made it inside. Then, after getting through the frontlines of security (if they made it that far), whomever was infiltrating would meet the guards who allowed their cohorts to be killed as preparation time for the main show.

The Outskirts plan, however, would mean that every man who wasn't directly appointed as an assassin to Blut's side would be out in the fields which were now covered in snow, using the trapdoors hidden in the earth to prepare their weapons for combat and kill the intruder as he (or she) approached the compound.

He was going to take his bets with the Five-Ten.

Heart barely going over an easy 65bpm, he calmly readied his guns for the next part of the infiltration where a few other guards would pop up and flock to his sides, hoping that they might catch him off-guard. Which they wouldn't. Another few shots took care of those and as he wiped the blood off his face from the splatter of one of them, he lit a cigarette and started walking towards the front of the compound, taking his chances that he knew which plan they had chosen considering he'd killed most of the other ones when he'd killed Vivian during their surprise attack not even hours before he got here.

Stepping over the walkway and opening the doors to the inside, he'd been proven correct in his intuition and flanked to the wall, keeping himself out of sight to those in the building. There were three open entryways leading from the main hall to the upstairs where the pig himself resided. Which meant around six of those corners could be another guard and he'd have to take his shots carefully, unless he wanted to engage in hand-to-hand combat which didn't always end well when your opponent had a firearm. He checked his inventory quickly.

Six bullets left. He'd have to be stingy about it.

Holding the trigger and aiming the barrel towards his right, he took a shot through the ornate pillars holding up the entryway's corbel arch, a bullet forcing itself through the small opening in which the wall met the pillar. He heard an "oomph!" which he gathered triumphantly signified his tactic of approach was also correct.

Can't teach an old dog new tricks.

Rolling to the floor into the room from whence the sound came, he staggered over to the next wall and shot through the entryway, shooting the man in the room in the leg. Fuck. Slight misstep on his account (or the other guy's considering he no longer had the bottom half of his leg). He dodged the man's bullets and lifted one of the cylindrical vases decorating the hallway and bashed it into the man's skull, once, twice, and then dropping it as he watched blood ooze from his nose. A sound from behind him meant another and he was met with hands wrapping around his throat and a gun being pressed to his temple.

This man was much bigger in stature than Duncan, but it was no matter. He swiftly acted as though he were aiming for his opponent's side as they would have practiced for upon initiation training. Seeing the man respond confidently to where he'd presumed Duncan would strike meant he'd left his nuts unguarded to which Duncan kicked in with precision. The man screamed, letting go of his counterpart and went to hold himself in anguish. Duncan mercilessly grabbed the weapon from his hands and shot through the one holding his injured manhood, shooting off his limb and probably the area underneath.

A few more men appeared from the entryways, and, after killing them all with a few more bullets than needed considering he had two guns now and maybe a hit to the face with his brass knuckles; he made his way to the top of the stairs, ready for whatever else would come. He could take on twenty more of them before expressing any ounce of fatigue as he'd trained his whole life for missions like this.

However, it was just you in the room.

Almost entirely taken aback by the slumped position you were in bound to that chair in the middle of the room, Duncan froze in his advances. He didn't let his guard down, no, but he took careful detail to the contortions of your face and the state of your being from which he could make out from this distance. Your long hair fell from the roots of your head which seemed to still be intact (thank god), but your skin was an ashy grey and blood had littered your hands and chest area. It was deep and dark and so red, redder than he'd felt he'd ever seen before and the PTSD was back, clawing at his chest and vision through his one good eye, all of his labors seemingly returning to dust. If you were dead, it would be the death of all deaths despite having only known you for a short period of time.

It had been the way you'd entered his house for the first time that caught him winded, hands tucked into the pockets of your long coat that kept you warm and smelling like the vanilla candles that littered your house. Your flushed cheeks from being out in the cold. Your smile as he'd offered you a sip of his hot chocolate, only to find out it had an added hint of whiskey. Your face when he'd kissed you for the first time. The hug you'd given him after.

It took fifty years of his life to finally admit it to himself and to anyone else who'd listen to the raspy notches in his throat as he exclaimed that he was, indeed, in love. And it was, indeed, with you.

"Something caught your eye, Kaiser?" Blut's agonizing and cruel voice caught the echos of the marble flooring and flooded the room, signaling his emergence from the darkness. He was wearing his stupid, douchebaggy jacket with a shit eating grin nearly reaching the corners of his eyes. This was the man whom he'd worked for all these years, pledged his loyalty to despite having no ounce of previous companionship with him. The one who owed him $8 million and the one who'd sent out his own personal hitman army to kill Duncan and get away with it so he would no longer be a liability to the company.

"She'd better be alive, or I'll skewer your head on that fucking Damocles sword you have above the mantle." He nearly spat out, taking his time to enunciate the weight of every word that escaped his lips, forcing them out in such an anger that anyone would feel in the depths of their bones. Blut, however, could care less.

"Oh she's alive." Made sure to keep her that way for you." He said, sauntering towards her seemingly lifeless body and tilting her chin upwards to finally reveal her face. "Thought she could use some plastic surgery though, don't you think Duncan?"

It was as if a knife had pierced his chest then and there. Your face, which had been absolutely perfect upon anyone's first glance, now was missing an eye on the opposite side of his own. Flesh had been carved out around it, which meant it would leave a scar possibly even nastier than his. He wanted to throw up at the idea someone could've taken something so important to you and destroy a piece of your life forever. He then thought maybe that was how his victims' families felt, learning that their fathers or brothers had passed due to the brutality of murder.

But you were still beautiful. And he had to save you still.

"Duncan... you're not responding?" Blut taunted with his awful voice, ringing the question in his ears and twisting the metaphorical knife even further into his chest. Duncan knew he'd need to snap out of the hold of his traumas and force himself to swallow anything else other than the situation at hand in order to save you...and himself.

"You're fucking dead. Don't you fucking touch her." Duncan said, grabbing the hefty sword of the supposed Damocles mansion from the mantle near him, letting the blade drag on the floor before discarding his gun entirely and picking up the sword. It had to have been at least four feet long with a shiny hilt and an even shinier blade which would be stained with the blood of the man before him in the time it'd take to say the sword's name. He would avenge this piece of your life that had been wrongfully taken from you.

A little less smug now, Blut reached into his pocket and withdrew a gun. "Y-y-you fucking stay back Kaiser! I won't hesitate to blow your head off!!"

"Where are your other men? Or are you truly so out of options that you're here alone?" Duncan growled, his discarded gun going into the fireplace, and, with a loud boom, caught the floor and curtains surrounding it on fire. The flames twisted and danced against in the reflection of his newfound weapon, a proper visual to the fire that licked his veins with the rage he felt. He continued his progression to your chair, sparing you a softer glance, before focusing everything onto the man before him who was now cowering by the window on the wall.

It was as if he were a child who'd been told hiding under a blanket would save him from the monsters under his bed and in his closet. He shrunk into the glass and tried his best to aim his gun with a shaking hand at Duncan's head. Duncan was now eye-to-eye with the man whom he'd fucking rip to shreds faster than any job he'd done as a hitman in his life.

"Blut...you're not responding?" He sneered, dodging the bullet that flew from his opponent's barrel. He lifted the sword and thrust it from the nape of his neck to the back of his skull, brains flying out against the widow he was in front of. Blood spurt from the open wound like a the lake outside of Duncan's house in Montana, where he'd resided before all this madness. Eyes bulged out of his skull with the optic nerves sliding down the forefront of his face and falling just above his mouth. Duncan dismantled the head from his torso still attached to the blade and spear tossed the sword of Damocles out the window and onto the grounds below, the sharp end getting stuck in the ground and displaying Blut's upside down head like a totem pole.

"'Suck my fucking dick."

Duncan freed you from the chair, taking you outside and down the winding trail, mansion burning to the ground in the distance. Back to Montana where now, at last, he would fucking retire.

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. 

Dating Cliff Booth Would Include...

A/N: I will never get over how hot Brad Pitt is in this movie at 54. 

Imagine calling him pretty boy just to tease him.

He blushes most of the time when you say it which just encourages you to say it more. 

He loves you, he does, but he will definitely leave your bed in the middle of the night to go get Rick whenever Rick calls him needing something. 

Rick and you would probably end up friends though considering how much time you spend together. 

Plus he’s so good to Cliff (and to you too once he gets to know you) that how could you ever not like him?

Cliff will constantly joke that Brandy likes you more than him most of the time even though everyone knows that dog is practically his baby.

Whenever he has to go out of town with Rick for a job or keep an eye on Rick for a few nights you end up taking care of Brandy.

Not that you mind because ofc you fall in love with how sweet that dog is. 

Anytime you need anything done around your place Cliff will automatically volunteer to take care of it for you. 

You need your car’s oil changed? He’s got you covered. Got a stuck door lock? No problem. Been wanting to paint your bedroom? He’s glad to help. 

Cliff Booth’s love language is acts of service and you can’t change my mind on that. 

This man is like the human embodiment of top energy. Do with that what you will.

He is usually really gentle with you though (unless you ask him not to be). 

He is an amazing kisser. Like grabs your face in both hands and really kisses you type of thing. 1000/10 recommend. 

Don’t expect sweet nothings. Cliff is a man of few words and doesn’t usually voice his feelings but he still finds ways to let you know how he feels. 

He opens up more with you than most other people though.

You guys would have so many inside jokes between the two of you because of this. 

He likes to hold your hand while driving with the other. 

Cliff is the ultimate hype man! He is always there and ready to pump you up when you need it.

He always gives you calm supporting vibes as if he just knows when things are going to work out fine and it is honestly so helpful when you’re nervous about something. 

I picture lots of hang out type date nights where the two of you just kind of watch some TV, play with Brandy, and smoke weed together. 

He always swears he is never going to get married again and he 100% means that too. 

He is fine with living with you and he doesn’t want to be with anybody else but his first marriage was such a disaster that he has sworn off marriage all together. 

Part of him is really nervous that you’ll leave him after you hear the rumors about his ex-wife. 

And of course when word gets around that you’re dating Cliff people are practically lining up to “warn you” about him and tell you all about what happened to his ex-wife. 

You don’t believe it for a second though and adamantly defend him whenever anyone brings it up. 

He may or may not have realized he was in love with you the first time he heard you defending him to some random person who tried to say something bad about him. 

He’s not used to people really caring enough about him to do that and it meant a lot to him. 

Speaking of defending each other…

Cliff is incredibly protective over you. Like someone can look at you wrong and Cliff is ready to throw hands. 

If you work in Hollywood, especially as an actress, he is even more protective of you because he’s always afraid some sleazy producer or someone is going to try to mess with you or put you down. 

He secretly kind of loves it when you fawn over him after he does a few stunts, always worried that he’s going to get hurt. 

Stranger Things boys and when they fell for you.

AN: Did I make this just because I wanted to post a picture of Steve in his yellow shirt that I love so much? Yes, that's exactly what I did.

Steve Harrington

It had been another day working with you and Robin at the video store that was like every other: you would finish shelving the vhs tapes, Robin would work the cash register, and Steve would do anything else (and flirt with the lady customers)

You had just finished putting away the new movie "The Breakfast Club," when all of a sudden Steve had grabbed your wrist and turned you to face him.

Wild eyed with red cheeks, Harrington was truly a sight to be seen as he frantically searched around in his pants pocket, for what you didn't know.

"What's wrong, Steve?" You asked, noticing his manic state.

"Does my hair look okay?" He asks, patting down the sides of his head and then deciding to ruffle it back up again. His eyes kept darting to the back of the store towards the romance movies and that's when you saw her: Laura. Guys fawned over her all the time and were desperate for her attention, I guess it didn't surprise you that Steve felt the same.

Fixing his parting by running your fingers through his hair, Steve had a starting realization.

He was horribly infatuated with this.

Laura suddenly became a topic of the past as he watched you work his hair into the right shape, stepping back and eyeing your work.

"It looks good now, go get her!" You encouraged and went back to finishing your task.

Needless to say, Steve walked back to the front counter and confided in Robin about how this was the beginning of something between the two of you.

Billy Hargrove

Billy wasn't the most in tune with his emotions and how he felt about you, but he knew that there was something in him that wanted to be around you all the time and that searched desperately for your approval.

Sitting in his car on the way to school, he had offered to drive you just like everyday and Bon Jovi played on the speakers, also as usual.

You had been intently staring out the window watching the town of Hawkins pass as the two of you made your way to the school; fingers drumming against your notebook that you had brought from home.

"Are those the math notes from yesterday?" He asks you, voice gruff but still soothing. You were the only person he treated with such respect and there was something about that exclusivity that made you fall for him even harder. You just wish it was mutual.

"Uh yeah, they are." You said, shifting in your seat. They most definitely were not the math notes but rather your diary which included all about how you felt towards your friend. You were bringing it to school to photocopy some of the drawings you had doodled in the back of it.

"May I borrow them? I'm totally failing Mrs. Hampton's class." He threw out a smile and held out one of his hands to collect the book in question, the other hand on the steering wheel.

"You should be looking at the road silly. But yes, you can borrow them." You said, handing over the book. You were terrified to say the least, but this might be your only chance of properly communicating how you felt.

"Thanks." He said and put the book under his thigh as the ride continued. Once you approached the school, you got out of the car and smiled at Billy. "Love ya." You said, a normal phrase among the two of you.

"Love ya too." He says, immediately starting to go back to the gruff and tough Billy that the rest of Hawkins High was used to. It was cute.

Once you had gone, Billy remembered that he conveniently had a math test on this specific Tuesday morning, so he decides to open your notebook and study as he walked down the hall.

Let's just say, he was glad to know that you felt the same way as him; pining after you for so long, it was nice for him to find out that getting you to be his would be easier than he thought.

Eddie Munson

You had met him at an odd store of sorts, one that specialized in board games and such. You had collected a Ouija board for your own pleasure later and that's when you noticed a giant mass of fluffy hair stationed below the counter looking through the Dungeons and Dragons dice.

"Hey," you said, startling the man on the floor, "Is this where I'm supposed to pay?"

Jumping up from the counter with his shirt acting as a bowl full of ten and twelve sided dice of all different colors, the man was just slightly taller than you with a bagel in his mouth. Dropping the dice onto the counter, he took the bagel out and smiled. "Yes! That's what I work here for!"

Giggling, you set the board down on the counter and watch the mysterious guy ring you up. "You're buying a Ouija board to play with friends?" He asks, trying to start conversation. He might've thought he was being discreet about it, but the pink blush dusting his cheeks gave him away.

"Not really, I was gonna play by myself since everyone was busy." You said, smiling at him.

He would've gotten down on one knee and popped the question right there with that response.

"That's so badass." He said, rubbing the bagel seeds onto his white shirt labeled "The Hellfire Club."

"Why thank you. You know, if you're not busy you could join me sometime. I have a couple of beers at my place." You state with a matter-of-fact tone.

"Underage drinking? Totally in." He says, giving you the heart eyes and handing you your receipt.

"Great. When do you get off of work?"

"9:00" he sighs, looking at the clock which read 5:00pm. Looked like he wasn't getting to spend time with you soon.

"What if we just pop it open and play in here?" You offer, throwing your purse on the counter and hopping over it, taking a bite of his bagel.

Eddie Munson asked you out that very day.

My absolute favorite fanfictions- especially the dragon fruit Hyunjin ones, they're classics. 💛🦐

Stray Kids ↬ M.List ☆

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Stories & Oneshots

❥  Bang Chan ↬ 

Roses are Red Au Type: [royal au, fantasy au] | Word Count: 11.2k Summary: Royal Gardener Christopher Bang only ever wanted to make music all his life, but being orphaned due to a senseless war against the Fire Nation left him at the hands of the kingdom to decide his fate. When tending to some of the many royal roses one day, he happened upon the kingdom’s princess, Y/n, and love at first sight was quite the understatement. However, what they are both unaware of is that she may already be betrothed to another…

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❥  Lee Minho ↬

Lavender Fire Au Type: [fantasy au, witch/magic au] | Word Count: 4.8k Summary: After being kidnapped and dropped off at the forbidden Lavender Hill, witch Y/n wanders into an abandoned mill and has a fateful encounter. 

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Smoke and Mirrors  Au Type: [wizard of oz au, love triangle] | Word Count: TBD Summary: Y/n L/n is the other girl from Kansas. She lives on a small, quiet farm with her Aunt and Uncle, and goes through the same routine everyday: go to school, tend to the crops, feed the chickens, help with dinner, do homework, lights out. Sometimes hang with her best friend, Hwang Hyunjin, along with his adorable sidekick Kkami. But lately, things have been rather odd in her small town. Besides the abnormal amount of storms cropping up despite the time of year, she can’t seem to get a strangely familiar voice out of her head that comes to her in dreams– and when one of those bizarre tornadoes hits a little too close to home, everything changes.

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Spinning Fate Au Type: [1,001 nights au] | Word Count: 528 Summary: A short drabble based off the Stories of 1,001 Nights, also known as Arabian Nights. When Y/n is selected to be the next wife of the misogynistic King Minho, it’s up to her quick wit and love of stories to save not only herself, but the entire kingdom as well.

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❥  Seo Changbin ↬

In The Air | Teaser Au Type: [mythology au, cupid au] | Word Count: TBD Summary: Y/n is a simple college student living in Seoul. She doesn’t have many friends, minus her family friend Minho of twelve-odd years, and living at home after 20 in order to help run your family’s business can be a real pain in the neck…especially when you have an obsessive helicopter parent of a mother that’s always breathing down your neck. But that all changes when a mysterious note finds its way to her front door. And when a bizarre man claiming to be cupid shows up, things only get weirder. (Check out Teaser for more information.)

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Pushing Up Daisies Au Type: [college au, secret admirer/stalker au] | Word Count: 4.7k Summary: There aren’t many things that have ever caught Seo Changbin off guard quite like the enigma that is transfer student Y/n L/n. Not knowing how to handle his newfound feelings, he takes matters into his own hands…in a peculiar way no one else would kindly agree with: hiding in the shadows.

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❥  Hwang Hyunjin ↬ 

Love in Times New Roman Au Type: [college au, secret admirer au] | Word Count: 8k Summary: It’d started with the most meddlesome English assignment ever, then spiraled into something more: a secret admirer, a letter, and a nefarious scoundrel of a roommate named Han Jisung. Throw in a future magician by Felix the Great, a couple of squadmates, some Rainbow Confetti, and a dinosaur professor stuck in a hopeless romantic past. What could possibly go wrong? → Only everything.

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Sunrise | (Prologue/Teaser) Au Type: [beauty and the beast au] | Word Count: 26k (ongoing) Summary: Y/n and childhood friend Rei are traveling merchants that work hard in order to support their families and escape the prospects of marriage. After running into a stranger by the name of Han Jisung and winding up in a place she shouldn’t be, she finds herself at the steps of a an old palace in an abandoned village…and the secrets that it’s kept locked away from long ago.

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Young Au Type: [carnival date au] | Word Count: 1.5k Summary: A short and sweet carnival date with your boyfriend, Hwang Hyunjin, who wanted to surprise you with some alone time.

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❥  Han Jisung ↬

Braked, Trifled Au Type: [slice of life, college au] | Word Count: 1.5k Summary: Y/n and college friend Junyong had just wanted to pick up some snacks for a fellow friend’s surprise party; the last thing they were expecting was to wind up in a fender-bender with local enemy Han Jisung.

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Starry-Eyed Au Type: [college au, theater au] | Word Count: 1.1k Summary: While shooting a group final project for theater, Y/n recounts the nostalgic memories of Han Jisung, as well as her ever-growing emotions.

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Vibe So Hot Au Type: [neighbor au, prank war au] | Word Count: 11.7k Summary: Y/n and F/n have been dreaming of the day they’d own their own house since the fifth grade. No more rules, no more worries…that is, until they grew up and found out there’s more to life than simply sneaking dips in the cookie jar. And that the most annoying nuisance not even life could have prepared them for— Han Jisung— lives just twenty feet away. When their unfavorable neighbor and crew takes one step too far, it’s no longer a matter of calling the cops or putting up with the vexingly irritating boy next door; it’s a declaration of war. 

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❥  Lee Felix ↬

Love My Game Au Type: [gamer au, love triangle feat. Park Jisung, NCT Dream] (cancelled, reboot TBD) | Word Count: TBD Summary: (TBA with reboot)

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Plush Hearts & Silver Linings Au Type: [college au, build-a-bear au] | Word Count: TBD Summary: Lee Felix and Co. have been moonlighting at build-a-bear workshop ever since their first semester of college. Felix likes to think he’s on top of just about everything that goes on both in the shop and other areas of his life; so when the curious Y/n shows up working as a teacher’s assistant for an elementary class field trip, one can imagine his surprise…and the fact that they’ll have to keep each other’s secret.

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Vividly Au Type: [college au, poetry au] | Word Count: 1.1k Summary: College student Lee Felix just wants to impress the girl of his dreams, but things get rather complicated when you aren’t as good with words as you’d like to be.

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❥  Kim Seungmin ↬

light switch | light switch 2 (cancelled) Au Type: [yandere au, school au] | Word Count: 19k Summary: It happened one fateful day after school; Y/n had just been cleaning up the classroom when school delinquent Kim Seungmin arrived. What happens after is an inclining friendship and a declining sense of safety; not just for Y/n, but for those around her as well.

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Smoke and Mirrors Au Type: [wizard of oz au, love triangle] | Word Count: TBD Summary: Y/n L/n is the other girl from Kansas. She lives on a small, quiet farm with her Aunt and Uncle, and goes through the same routine everyday: go to school, tend to the crops, feed the chickens, help with dinner, do homework, lights out. Sometimes hang with her best friend, Hwang Hyunjin, along with his adorable sidekick Kkami. But lately, things have been rather odd in her small town. Besides the abnormal amount of storms cropping up despite the time of year, she can’t seem to get a strangely familiar voice out of her head that comes to her in dreams– and when one of those bizarre tornadoes hits a little too close to home, everything changes.

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Verdant Elegy Au Type: [barista au, floral au, poetry] | Word Count: 1.1k Summary: Before clocking into work one morning, Kim Seungmin recalls a harsh reality, and later, faces a bittersweet truth.

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❥  Yang Jeongin ↬

Everything’s Coming Up Roses Au Type: [cult au, florist au, time travel au] | Word Count: TBD Summary: Normalcy. That’s all Y/n had asked for. But apparently that’s impossible when you fall in love with a boy who runs a flower shop by day that covers for a cult base at night; and when, next thing you know, you’re falling through the sky…

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A Floral Memoir Au Type: [flower shop au, friends to lovers au] | Word Count: 3.9k Summary: A flashback of growing up together prompts Y/n to make a decision about her future.

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Rain Season Au Type: [nostalgia, friends to lovers au] | Word Count: 1.1k Summary: In which Y/n meets up with long-time friend Yang Jeongin after he embarks on his quest to become an idol.

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Timestamps

♫ Bang Chan: [오후 11:02]

♫ Lee Know, Minho: [오후 2:51] | [오후 8:24]

♫ Seo Changbin: [오전 12:30]

♫ Hwang Hyunjin: [오후 12:03]

♫ Han Jisung: [오전 1:38]

♫ Lee Felix: [오후 10:14]

♫ Kim Seungmin: [오후 8:01]

♫ Yang Jeongin: [오후 6:28]

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Stories & Oneshots feat.SKZ

☆ Dark Rising - NCT 127′s Johnny, supernatural au (cancelled)  ☆ Glasses - NCT Dream’s Jaemin, yandere au, mafia au ☆ Riddle Me This - NCT Dream’s Chenle, detective au (cancelled)

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BONUS ↬ Dragon Fruit Saga 

(Crack blurbs requested anonymously(?) by my wack friends :)) Feel free to join and send in some requests, just keep it PG-13)

In which Hyunjin punches you with dragon fruit…

In which Hyunjin kills you with dragon fruit…

In which Hyunjin sends you dragon fruit…

In which Hyunjin must choose between you or dragon fruit…

In which Jisung is scared of dragon fruit…

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Reactions and other Stray Kids related posts

↬ Stray Kids Instagram series ↬ Stray Kids as Blade and Soul characters ↬ Stray Kids Incorrect Quotes: Blade and Soul Part 1 ↬ Stray Kids Incorrect Quotes: Blade and Soul Part 2 ↬ Stray Kids Playing Animal Crossing: New Horizons

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↠ special thanks to @moonlit-han​ for letting me use her copyright layout <3 ↠ special thanks to @hanniiesuckle17​ for being my part-time editor <3 ↠ special thanks to @dulc3-p3riculum​ for always supporting me <3 ↠ © 2019-2021 leggomylino.tumblr.com. Unauthorized use or reproduction of works is expressly prohibited. Do not repost, plagiarize, claim as your own, or translate my works. Thank you. <3

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He's so hot wtf

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

hii! would you continue p3 of the moonjo fic?? if that then im sorry if i wasted for you to answer this 😭

Hey hey!

I've only written two Moon-Jo fics, "You're My Salvation" and "Atonement" which are two separate ones! I'd be more than willing to write you one specifically to what you'd like if you send me an ask with a description!

Nothing to apologize for lovely!

💛🦐

•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!

💛🦐

Hey, weird request but can you write a G-Force fan fic with Brad pitt?

You, my friend, are bonkers.