#mixture of both movie and book

[after-witch]

The Driven Snow [Yandere Coriolanus Snow x Reader]

Title: The Driven Snow [Yandere Coriolanus Snow x Reader]

Synopsis: You're a District 2 school graduate who comes to the Capitol with her father before the 11th Hunger Games. You don't expect to meet anyone kind, especially not someone named Coriolanus Snow who offers you his arm, his smile, and treats in secret. 

Word Count: 5270

notes: yandere, abusive relationship, non-graphic descriptions of torture and death (not against reader); uses a mixture of book and movie canon

The Capitol was not as dazzling as your father described it but then, he had seen it before the war. Though perhaps it was your own bitterness that made you ignore the signs of returning prosperity that sets it above everywhere else.

The repaired elaborate buildings, the fresh pungent smell of plaster and paint. The cars pumping exhaust fumes into the air. The low rumble of garbage trucks that pick up bright green garbage cans, some of which are actually teeming with plastic trash bags. Such waste was unheard of, even in the oh-so-loyal District 2, where only the lowest of the low find themselves starving.

Although not-starving didn’t mean that everything was plentiful. 

You, though, were lucky enough to avoid the lima bean heavy diet that some of your classmates (now former--graduation was months ago) lived on. Or were you? The meat that graced your family’s dinner table, the pats of butter on toast, were all courtesy of your father’s  immense talent in building creative weapons that allowed the Capitol to stamp out every last bit of rebellion in the Districts. That allowed them to regain control. That allowed them to create the Hunger Games.

Which is why you were in the Capitol now. Oh, not to participate in them. Your father’s status in District 2 had seen to that; it would be a scandal if the name of his beloved daughter were to ever be pulled. 

You were there because your father had been given a lucrative contract, one that was sure to cement your family’s wealth for generations: a contract to build high-tech weapons for the Hunger Games themselves. 

They would still be killing. But on a much smaller scale, you supposed, than the weapons your father designed during the war. 

Still. Blood was blood. And if it had to be spilled, well, there was nothing you could do about it except hope they died quickly. Especially the ones from District 2.

Last year’s Games’ had been awful enough. Your family had watched the Games on a modest television set in the privacy of your living room, sent courtesy of the Capitol. 

You wondered if you would ever get the sight of Marcus’ battered, bloated face from your mind; if you would ever unhear the way his body thumped to the ground when that girl had killed him, out of mercy. If you would ever stop imagining what it must have felt like in those last moments.

But it wasn’t all horror. You’d liked Lucy Gray well enough, even though she was from 12. She had a wild way of dressing and the singing--it was practically theatrical, compared to what you’d heard about the previous games. 

Maybe that was why your father got this contract: theatrics. Maybe the games would be more dramatic from now on. Maybe they wanted tributes like Lucy Gray, who sang and spit and poisoned her way to Victory. It was strange, really, that there’d been hardly any talk of her since her win. 

“Father?” You asked, quietly as you could. 

Both of you were standing in the foyer of the grand university in the Capitol. The outside was still a little ravaged, but inside, it was perfectly lovely. Walls lined with books--perhaps some of them were fake--and marble floors and marble busts dotting the sight lines.

“Mm?” He replied, eyes scanning over his clipboard. He flips it, here and there.

“I was just thinking. About last year’s games. About Lucy Gray, and how the Games--”

Your father rounded on you, eyes suddenly serious and blazing.

“Quiet. Weren’t you paying attention on the way here?” Admittedly, you were not. You’d been daydreaming about what you might do now that you were done with school. There was no university in District 2, and your father hadn’t even mentioned a job. “You’re not supposed to mention--”

“Not supposed to mention whom? Ah, ah, ah. Lucy Gray Baird?” called a voice, almost in sing-song.

Your father stood up stiff, and the life seemed to drain from his face.

Both of you look towards the sound of the voice, and now it’s your turn to stiffen. The voice came from a woman standing in the doorway of the very office that your father was waiting to enter. She was wearing an elaborate jacket made of what looked like rainbow snake scales. Her hair was gray and curly. She had, you realized, two different colored eyes. 

Your father swallowed, and you could see the apple of it bob up and down. It made you think, abruptly, of suckling pigs. 

“Dr. Gaul,” he said, in a voice far too tight to be relaxed. “I apologize for my daughter’s insubordination, I assure you, she meant no--”

Dr. Gaul waved her hands at him and approached you. 

“Did you like last year’s games?” She didn’t look angry. No, she looked delighted.

“I…” It was your turn to swallow, your turn to feel that tightness. “It-it was the first time I’ve watched them, ma’am.” You want to ask this woman: do you think I liked watching someone from my District 2 so horribly? Or any District, really? Did I like it? 

Her smile grew wider. 

“I’m glad. You’ll be watching them every year from now on, I hope. We have big plans.” Her eyebrows raised high. “Big changes. Thanks to men like your father.” She glanced at him and you saw disdain flicker across her gaze. 

And then another door opened, and you heard the sound of polished shoes on the marble floor. Dr. Gaul’s attention dropped away from you like you were nothing at all. She turned to meet the sound of these footsteps, and you did too.

It was a young man. Probably your age, you thought, with light blonde hair and eyes that your mother would have described as “baby blue.” He didn’t look at you, or your father. But that was nothing new. You’d only been in the Capitol for 2 days, and you’d already gotten used to being treated as lesser than. Though, at least, you were not so far down on the food chain that you lost your tongue. 

“Ah, my protege,” said Dr. Gaul, giving the young man a grin. The smile on her face almost looked warm, which was somehow far more terrifying than her manic smile from earlier. “Ever the earnest student. Aren’t you supposed to be enjoying the day off, Mr. Snow?”

The young man, this “Snow,” chuckled and lowered his gaze. “I couldn’t stay away once I heard you were discussing some of the new prototypes for this year’s games.” 

He finally looked at your father, and then at you. But only briefly.

“Can I assume that this is…?”

Dr. Gaul nodded.

“Yes. My little designer from District 2. And his daughter.” Her voice dropped a few octaves when she referred to you. She probably didn’t want you here, you thought. You weren’t supposed to come, but your father had begged the Capitol for a pass; it would probably be your only chance to see it, he said, so you may as well take advantage of the chance.

Snow nodded to your father. It was a surprising gesture, almost respectful. But cold, too, like it was done from necessity rather than anything else. 

Your father stammered a bit and nodded back, and you felt shame begin to creep into your bones. It wasn’t fair, to be lesser-than. But weren’t others lesser-than you in your own District, where you ate better food and never worried that your name would get picked, that your blood would be spilled?

Everyone 

But when Snow turned to you, he smiled. It gave him dimples. 

It was the first kind smile anyone in the Capitol gave you. 

“My name is Coriolanus Snow. I doubt you’ve heard of me, but if Dr. Gaul’s teachings have anything to say about it, perhaps one day you’ll know me as a Gamemaker.” 

You didn’t know what to say. Congratulations, one day you’ll be coordinating Games that kill people? Instead,  you gave your name, voice squeakier than you meant it. But it was fitting, you supposed. Here, you were a mouse, hoping you would get a bite of cheese and make it home unpoisoned. 

Dr. Gaul’s face seemed to react slowly, as if she couldn’t decide what she thought about his words or your interaction, but a small smile grew on it, eventually. “I do have high hopes for you, Mr. Snow. Now, shall we?”

She gestured for your father to follow, face once again impassive with a sprinkle of disdain, as she led the two of them into her office.

Snow gave you a smile and a nod before he left.

You waved, stupidly.

Your father didn’t even look back.

--

I’m dead. I’m dead. I might as well be dead.

Your heartbeat kept time with your racing thoughts as you went up and down corridors, begging your shoes to be silent, wishing your breath would catch and stop coming out in terrible pants.

You were lost. You weren’t where you were supposed to be. If someone found you, if the wrong person found you, they would think you were running, trying to get lost in the Capitol; they’d think  you were a rebel. They’d shoot you.

Just when you thought you might collapse and die from your own nervous exhaustion, you heard the most wonderful sound in the world.

Your name.

It was only the moment after that you realized it didn’t come from your father’s mouth, but the lips of--what his name--Coriolanus Snow. The young man who was a Gamemaker-in-training, or so your father said. But that’s all he would say. He kept tight about anything that went on behind closed doors. 

But this Coriolanus Snow smiled at you, and didn’t look at you like you were some kind of insect he might want to pin on a board, and so when you whirled around to look at him you were smiling.

Ah--for a moment. For just a moment, you saw his muscles tense. You saw the expression on his face falter in worry. Like he thought he was about to miss a step on a staircase, and corrected himself; like he thought you were a wolf and you were only somebody’s dog, off their leash. 

But it wasn’t too surprising. You knew most people in the Capitol thought anyone from the Districts wanted to rip out their throats. 

Well, the worry was mutual. Except in your case, you were forced to walk around with the living proof of that worry--all those “Avoxes,” they called them. Without tongues, without freedom. 

But you swallow all that. Because he smiled at you. Because maybe it wouldn’t hurt to make a friend. Especially right now.

“I’m--I’m lost,” you tell him, giving a shaky smile. “I was waiting for my father, but you see, I got to thinking, and I started to wander around and now I’m… well. I don’t know where I am, actually.”

His smile wasn’t very deep, was it? It was like the gloss of paint on the outside of the Capitol buildings. Pretty to look at, but there must be more underneath.

You expected him to lead you right back to where you’re supposed to be.

Instead, he asked you something.

“What were you thinking about?

You couldn’t tell him. Could you? But something about 

“About… the Games.”

You don’t tell him that you were thinking about Lucy Gray and all those snakes, and the way that Dr. Gaul’s outfit that first day made you think of them. Because your father had slapped you across the face when you got back to your lodgings that night, and told you to never, ever bring up Lucy Gray Baird or the 10th Games unless you were directly asked. And you would probably never be asked. 

Coriolanus gave a little snort through his nose. You liked it. It was nice to know that even Capitol people could seem a little dorky.

“They aren’t for another 3 months. Are you that eager to see them?”

You didn’t know what expression you made, exactly. It was so instinctive and fast that you didn’t have time to control it. 

You only knew that it made him shake his head and offer you a sympathetic look.  

“I apologize. That was rude, wasn’t it?” 

And then he did a strange thing.

He offered you his arm. 

Like you were Capitol, like you were a real person, and not some visiting District wench walking on the coattails of her arms-dealing father. 

“Let me walk you back to the waiting area.”

And the stranger thing?

You took it.

--

You and your father were quickly moved into a small apartment within the university, once it became clear that he would be staying in the Capitol through the duration of the Games. It was best, he said, because ordinary people in the Capitol didn’t really want to see new faces from the Districts mingling around unless their tongue had been cut out first. It made them nervous. The rebel bombings, and all that.

You didn’t mind, because it meant you didn’t have to be flanked by Peacekeepers on the streets. 

And, well.

You got to see Coriolanus more often. Sometimes he greeted you, sometimes he didn’t. He did it less often when Dr. Gaul was there,  unless she was talking to your father and it gave him an opportunity.

He asked you things, too, when he caught you walking back to your father’s little apartment. Like what you did back home. What you liked to do. Whether you went to school, and what you planned to do now that you have graduated. 

This morning, he caught you drawing while you waited in a chair outside Dr. Gaul’s office. Sometimes you waited there--you would admit to no one that it was to catch a glimpse of the kindest person you’d met in the Capitol--and other times you stayed in your temporary home.

“What are you drawing?” He asked. But he had a way of speaking that you’d quickly clocked into. He can make a demand sound like a polite little question. Oh, he wasn’t mean about it, but it reminded you of the way your father talked to his underlings back in District 2. On his home turf, he was far smoother than he was here, where his voice stammered and sweat beaded on his neck.

So you handed it over, even though, to your greatest embarrassment, you’d drawn… him.

“Why me?” He had a smile on his lips. His smiles were nice. Kind. The kindest you’d seen since you came here. But they always felt like that fresh coat of paint; like you didn’t know what he really meant by them, and that was how he liked it. 

“You’re… important,” is all you could come up with. You felt small, then. He would dismiss and probably never want to talk to you again. What a stupid answer from a stupid girl. 

But he just smiled. It was like paint peeling a little.  You could see underneath that he liked what you said, although you weren’t exactly sure why. And his expression tightened up so quickly, protecting what you’d seen, that you weren’t entirely sure if it was real or not. 

“I’m just a humble student at this university. Not so important. Not yet.”

--

You were really going to die, now. This wasn’t some panicked imagination gone wrong, some flight of fancy that took a wrong turn.

A pair of stony-faced Peacekeepers had walked up to where you sat in the waiting area near Dr. Gaul’s office and ordered you to come with them.

You asked to talk to your father. They said no. You asked where you were going. They yanked you up. 

And now they were leading you down hallways that you’d never seen before, where there weren’t even Avoxes roaming the halls with brooms and dustpans. 

They didn’t even answer, just spun around and walked back the way they came. You pushed the door open reluctantly--what the hell was going to be on the other side?--and it was--it was--

It was Coriolanus. Standing there in a nice suit, eyes downcast on a book. Until the door creaked and he looked up.

“What--why did you bring me here? Did I do something wrong?” The thought went through you, that perhaps this had all been a test, to see if you were loyal to the Capitol and he’d found you wanting.

“No,” he said, simply enough. He set the book down and gestured for you to step inside. You did, because what else were you going to do, in some strange room in a Capitol University where you’d been forcibly brought by Peacekeepers.

Snow studied your face. Your eyes darted around, from him, to the room, to the door. 

“I wanted to see you,” he said, a little softer. “In private.” 

“Me?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “But… why?”

He smiled. “Come now, you’re a smart girl, even if you aren’t in university.” 

You really didn’t know. Not at first. But then you watched the way his expression softened, and you remembered it, or glimpses of it, that he’d given you before. When he complimented your drawing. When he said your name. When he escorted you back from the maze of hallways. And his smiles, all his smiles, although you were never sure how much they meant coming from home. 

He took a step closer. You didn’t dare step back. You weren’t sure if you wanted to step back, but it didn’t matter, either way.

He pressed his lips to yours and took your first kiss, in a secluded little study in the heart of the Capitol University. 

--

Your days became routine, although the routine was strictly forbidden and could have probably gotten you executed or at best, gotten you a one-way ticket to a tasteless existence.

You wake up. You stay in your apartment.  You wait for the Peacekeepers. You get summoned here and there, always private rooms, secret rooms, rooms out of the way. You meet Snow--Coriolanus, he said, call him that--and you talk (well, mostly him) and kiss and sometimes a little bit more. He gives you gifts. Trinkets, necklaces that you can only wear under your shirt. Food, flaky pastries made with mountains of sugar, sandwiches made with cream and cucumber. 

But how much longer could it go on? The Games were going to start soon. As soon as they were over, you were going back to your District. There would be no more meetings, no more kisses. No more wondering how far he wanted to go or why he liked you or even if he even liked you as anything more than someone to keep him busy. 

You didn’t dare talk about the Games, but you did talk about this. In the kindest way you knew how for such a sensitive subject. 

“I’ll miss you,” you told Coriolanus after one meeting, when you’re both sitting on a sofa and he’s got your fingers tightly wound in his. He squeezed them tight.

“Miss me?” 

“After the Games,” you clarified. “We’re being sent home right after.”

He squeezed your fingers until it hurt a little. Then he looked up at you. To see if you would say something? Or did he not know how strong he was?

“Oh, that. I can arrange for you to stay.”

Your chest began to feel sick.

“Stay? In the Capitol?” You were torn about Coriolanus, but you didn’t want to stay here. You couldn’t. 

“Yes,” he said, as if it was the simplest answer in the world. “You wouldn’t be the first person from the District granted such an extreme privilege. I’m sure I could--”

“But I don’t know if I want to stay.” 

His gaze narrowed and you felt your stomach clench. He looked at the necklace you’d pulled out as soon as the door was shut, at your lips where a dollop of strawberry cream still rested. 

“I treat you so well, and you don’t know if you want to stay with me?”

His voice was calm, and that scared you. It would have been better if he flew off the handle.

Instead, he simply stood up and gently sent you out the door, and called the Peacekeepers to bring you back to your apartment.

--

Every night for the last week, you have cried yourself to sleep. Because every day for the last week, Coriolanus Snow has not sent for you. Not even once.

What if he told someone? What if you got sent back early, and your father was shamed? What if they broke his contract? Or--worse, worse, worse. There were so many worse things than merely being sent back to District 2.

And then he sent for you, and it was the longest walk of your life, though it was no farther than any of the times you’ve been escorted to your secret meetings.

This time, when you pushed open the door, Coriolanus was not alone. 

There was an Avox in the room. 

It was someone from District 2.

You didn’t know her. Not personally. But you saw her, before. She worked in one of the munitions factories and you watched her walk to work from your classroom window sometimes. Then she stopped showing up, and you thought perhaps she got married. 

That delusion was shattered the moment you saw her, eyes downcast to the floor, wearing a simple gray tunic. 

It’s not until Coriolanus tells you to hurry up and come in that you’re able to move. Even then, you weren’t sure how your body did it; how your arms managed to gain the mobility to shut the door, to twist the lock; how your legs moved, one foot in front of the other, until you were standing stiffly in front of him.

The Avox--you wish you knew her name, but she couldn’t give it to you now, even if you asked--moved seamlessly to a table set up nearby. There was tea and sweets. The sort of thing that you and Coriolanus had been enjoying together for the past few weeks. The sort of thing that you were sure would sit sour in your stomach, now. 

The cup shook in your hands when she handed it to you, and your tears dripped right into the tea.

Coriolanus glanced at the Avox and waved his hand. She left obediently. She would never tell the secret she witnessed in his room, that much was certain.

And then he looked back at you.

“Don’t cry,” he said. Soft but firm. A command, not a coo. “You shouldn’t cry here, in the Capitol. You should be grateful to be here. You should be grateful that I’ve arranged all this for you.”

“I am,” you whispered. 

“Then show me that you are.”

And you did. 

You said what he wanted and looked to him to show you how he wanted you to act, and did just that. You didn’t argue, even to lightly banter. You kissed him and nodded along when he told you about how things would be after the Games, when he had arranged for you to stay.

All you had to do was keep him happy until the Games were over, and then you could go home. 

Bitterly, all of this made you realize just how much of your father is in you; he knew how to appease the Capitol. You could do the same with Coriolanus Snow. At least until the Games were over. Just keep him happy until the Games were done and the blood was spilled, and you would go home. 

They wouldn’t let him keep you here after the games. You were sure of that. You’d overheard some of Dr. Gaul’s assistants murmuring how glad they would be to send the District profiteers like your father home once the Games were over. And you? You’re just his useless daughter, an appendage he brought like an unwelcome suitcase. Why would you be allowed to stay?

--

The Games were over. The winner was from District 1. 

You were going home any day now. Just as soon as your father finished tinkering with the designs, gave his notes on improvements that might be made for next year.

The thought gave you a delightful bounce in your step. It was like having a pat of sweet butter in your shoe on a day when you needed good luck-- District 2 superstition, although the strict rationing meant most people didn’t have even a pat to slip into their shoes anymore.

The sweetness didn’t even disappear when the Peacekeepers showed up to bring you to Snow. It was going to be a bittersweet farewell, you were sure. He might be angry. But you would kiss him and tell him that there was nothing he could do, and how sorry you were not to be able to stay, but that was how things had to be.

Except they didn’t bring you down a maze of corridors that led to a secluded room.

They brought you right into Dr. Gaul’s office.

Breakfast threatened to evacuate your stomach with every step. Not just because of nerves, but because of what you saw. Rows of experiments in glass tubes; some of them move. You walk by a room with a half-open door that showed someone strapped to a gurney, face contorted in a silent scream as they fought against restraints. You almost did lose breakfast, then.

But somehow you made it to the desk of Dr. Gaul without a dribble of vomit to show for it.

The Peacekeepers left with no fanfare and you stood there, ramrod straight. Did she know? Was she going to tell you that you were going to be strapped to one of those gurneys, now?

“I’m keenly aware,” she said, keeping her hands primly folded, “on how much you’ve enthralled my star pupil.”

Toast. That’s what will come up first, you thought . The toast.

“I don’t know what you mean, ma’am.” Your voice was so thin and tinny that you didn’t even believe yourself.

And then the prim facade cracked, and Dr. Gaul threw her head back and grinned.

“You really think I don’t know everything that goes on within these walls?  I know every time one of my lab assistants runs into the bathroom to throw up after a particularly nasty experiment. I know every time one of our university professors sneaks into a closet to down a vial of morphling with a student. And I certainly know when my newest protege is having an adorable little District girl brought to him for… canoodling.”

You weren’t even embarrassed. No.  You just felt terrified to the bone. You only hoped that you’d be killed, shot against a wall, instead of made into an Avox. Let there be some mercy in this world. 

”He’s asked to keep you, you know.” Her voice was low, almost a drawl. She tapped her fingers on her desk rhythmically.

“My Coriolanus Snow wants a bird of his own.” Her smile turned darker. “Not a songbird, though. Oh, no. I think he’s had enough of those.”

Her gaze bored into yours, each color magnified by her intense expression. “I think if I let him have his pretty caged bird, he’ll be happy. He’s more productive if he’s happy.” She smiled. “I like productivity. It keeps the Games more interesting.”

She looked you over one more time, and then waved you away.

“I’ve granted his request. You’ll be staying here indefinitely, courtesy of one Mr. Snow. Your father has already been told.” 

You were wrong.

It was not the toast that came up first, but the sweet butter you’d patted on top.

--

You still had your tongue, but you felt as though it was useless, stuck to the roof of your mouth, as Coriolanus fussed over your outfit. Or rather, as he directed an Avox to fuss over it for you. He could afford his own personal servant, now, he told you. He’d almost flinched after he said now, and you didn’t dare press him on it. Had he not been able to afford one before?

“We can’t walk arm-in-arm in public,” he said, walking around you, making sure the outfit was just-right. “But you can stand by me if I stop and direct you forward.” He reached over and fixed one of your buttons. “Don’t speak to anyone unless I’ve told you to, or they speak to you first. Always address someone older as ‘sir,’ or ‘ma’am.” He pointed at your hair, and the Avox began to fuss with it, eventually covering it in a colorful wrap that Coriolanus said was popular right now. “Address someone our age by the last name and Mr. or Ms.”

When he was satisfied with your appearance, he sent the Avox away. You liked it better that way, it was one last reminder of the horrors in the Capitol, even for someone “privileged” like you.  You’d only been without your father for 3 days, but you felt like your nerves were continually on fire. You wanted to go home. You wanted your family. You wanted out of this place.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

For now, you were still living in the small university apartment the Capitol had given your father. Coriolanus insisted on it, until he could figure out how to move you into his own sprawling apartment that he shared with his cousin, Tigris (who, at least, genuinely sounded lovely) and his grandmother, Grandma’am. She was the sticking point, or so you were told, with a thin smile. She hated Districts, and she ought to, he said. They killed her son. His father. 

She would hate you, too. Even if Coriolanus wanted you enough to make you stay with him; wanted you enough to keep you. But for how long? And would he change his mind, if you couldn’t fit in? 

He said your name, and you snapped yourself out of your thoughts. He held you by your shoulders. Gently. Like one would an unruly child that hadn’t yet learned that there were such things as salad forks and dinner forks, as polite conversation and etiquette. 

You got the feeling you wouldn’t have long to learn all of those things and more, to make him happy.

“Remember,” he said. “You’re District. You’re here because the Capitol has recognized that your loyalty can benefit us in some way. Be grateful.”

“I am,” you said, reflectively.

“Be happy..”

“I am,” you said again, your chest hitching.

He smiled at you. Was it real or not real? 

You smiled back, regardless. And he liked that, evidently, because he leaned forward and kissed you. Then he scrutinized your face and wiped at your lips with his thumb--the kiss had smeared your lipstick. 

“Good.” 

He gestured towards the open doorway. This time, he didn’t take your arm. There would be too many people lingering in the university hallways, all making their way to the soiree held to celebrate the end of this year’s Games and discuss what improvements might be made for the next year. 

You dutifully walked behind him, just like he said. And you would do exactly what he said in all respects. You would stay quiet unless you were spoken to, you would certainly never bring up anything confrontational or controversial, and you would make a good impression. You would be a loyal, grateful District citizen who was given the opportunity of a lifetime thanks to the graciousness of Coriolanus Snow. 

Of course you would. 

Your life depended on it. 

#yandere coriolanus snow #yandere hunger games #yandere #yandere x reader #afterwitch writes #/slaps trunk #this baby can fit so many references to the books & movie in it. #... well not SO MANY #but enough

[limerenceif]

Limerence is an 18+ slice of life IF that follows you, one of the most globally demanded actors of all time. You just accepted a lead role in a romance movie, one that’s amongst the most highly anticipated films of the year. You were ready, prepared, and content with the plan the directors and producers laid out for you.

Everything was perfect. This was going to be your best work yet!

Until you heard a door click and felt the breeze of the air conditioning blow against your neck as you turned. And now that perfect plan was slowly falling apart as you spotted your devilishly attractive co-star and felt an electrifying pull that would blow every publicity stunt out of the water.

Now, you must avoid getting your heart absolutely shattered again.

Genres: slice-of-life, drama, romance Some tropes: forbidden love, forced proximity

Full customization over your iconic MC, choosing how they look and react with the many options available!

Try not to fall in love with your customizable co-star(s)!

3 storylines in one book! Depending on which genre of romance movie you pick, you'll have a different RO

Manage the way the public views you - humble or self-absorbed?

A very expensive friend group, hopefully, with no drama involved.

Outfit changes! Shopping trips! Interviews! Premiers! Red carpets! A horrible ex! And a date in… Paris??

Experience what it’s like to be rich and famous!

A system built where actions and words contribute to the development of your platonic and romantic relationships

I’m being so serious when I say you're gonna be able to strut your stuff. Like, you're THAT!

THE CAREFREE ROMANCE "Is it sin to love?"

Arthur/Aria, a people-pleaser mixed with a warm heart, is the perfect actor for the counterpart lead in a movie that ends in the happiest way of all. Many would categorize them as a golden retriever, always filled with energy and a happy aura. They walked through those stage doors, immediately greeting everybody with respect and smiles on their face.

THE TRAGIC ROMANCE "For the wounded and the lost."

Corin/Carrie, a cold demeanor mixed with a frozen heart, is the perfect actor for the counterpart lead in a movie that ends in heartbreak. You swore they were throwing daggers at you through the whole reading of the script. The directors say they can feel a connection brewing beneath their harsh exterior, but you can't seem to spot it.

THE THRILLER ROMANCE "The vanity of existence."

Kenley/Kaylee, a mixture of both cold and warm, you don't actually know if they'd be the perfect actor at all. They're all over the place, left and right, backward and forwards, you can't ever seem to spot them in one place for more than five minutes. The directors are starting to wonder if you two will even be able to progress through these scenes with their attention being constantly stolen, but hey, who knows, it might work!

#if wip #twine if #twine game #interactive fiction #interactive novel #if game #cyoa

[girlkisser13]

dating jason grace would include

• ugh, the chivalry radiating off this man is CRAZYY.

• jason is the epitome of a gentleman fr!! he’ll do little things like holding open doors for you (even if it means waiting a few extra moments), offering his sweater when you're cold without hesitation, or fixing up a plate for you during dinner, he's always trying to make life a little easier for you. <33

• if you so much as utter a complaint about your feet aching or your shoes being too uncomfortable, he's already kneeling down, his broad back facing you with his hands gesturing for you to climb on for a piggy-back ride. he’ll be running around camp like a lunatic, carrying you on his back or in his arms, but he doesn't care because he always puts your comfort and safety first!!

• his protective nature extends to the battlefield as well. even though he knows you're more than capable of defending yourself, he fights alongside you, ready to shield you from ANY harm.

• whenever you talk to jason, he always has a way of letting you know that he's listening to your every word. even if he's occupied with something else, he'll make a point to let you know that he is paying attention to you. he'll immediately direct his gaze towards you, and abandon whatever task he was previously engaged in, leaning in closer to you the longer you speak.

• even if you try to cut your story short or apologize for repeating yourself, jason will NEVER rush you or make you feel uncomfortable. instead, he'll hold you close with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, encouraging you to keep talking and sharing your thoughts. because jason doesn't mind hearing the same stories over and over again, as long as they're coming from you. <33

• you know that one tiktok trend where one person tries to switch foods/drinks with their partner? yeah if you ask him he will not hesitate to switch with you. he also shares his food with you with no complaints.

• but he also knows you well enough to get you something to eat even if you say you don’t want anything or that say that you’re not hungry.

• jason never fails to express his love for you verbally every day, but he also has a way of communicating it without speaking a word. he'll naturally reaches for your hand under the table, stealing quick kisses on your shoulder when no one is watching. even the way he touches you lingers, like he doesn't want to let go.

• jason lovess resting his forehead against yours. it just brings him a sense of comfort and solace, really just your presence itself makes him feel safe. <33

• he most definitely places kisses on your hand. i'm talking regency era jane austen style kisses to your fingertips or palm, looking away with a visible blush.

• i feel like he radiates a mixture of golden retriever boyfriend and orange cat boyfriend.

• he is pretty romantic and enjoys meticulously planning dates for you both, such as movie dates, picnics, hiking, and more.

• one of his love languages is acts of service. whether it's helping you with chores, surprising you with breakfast in bed, or offering a shoulder to lean on when you’re having a bad day, he's always there to support them in any way he can.

• he’s 100% a morning person (due to his militaristic upbringing at camp jupiter). if you’re also a morning person, the two of you enjoy going on morning jogs together. if you’re not a morning person, he’ll spend hours admiring you when you’re sleeping (not in a creepy or weird way lmao).

• he’s a big reader but sticks with audiobooks (due to his dyslexia) and will read every single book that you read so that he can talk with you about them.

#pjo #pjo tv show #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #hoo #heroes of olympus #jason grace x reader #jason grace #pjo disney+ #pjo x reader #pjo series #hoo fandom #hoo series #riordanverse #percy jackson and the olympians

[kcrossvine-art]

hi friends! :D y'all voted and fought neck and neck for this SO- heres the first entry into our little cooking journey of J. R. R. Tolkeins fictional food for his fictional little guys he puts in fictional turmoils for our enjoyment and awe!

 Before we get started i wanna say i owe my heart to all the LotR fans who upkeep the wiki, debate the cannon, and create their own versions of the foods mentioned. Both because of my love for people who LOVE (passionate people)(passion about anything) and because my own knowledge of this series is a little dusty. I've never seen the movies but I did read the books growing up. I'll be learning and remembering things from a fairly newbie standpoint, so no worries if you yourself arent familiar with the series! (and if you are familiar, hopefully youll forgive me!)

We will be making Lembas ('waybread') today! If you've made your own version of this please feel free to share it, similarly if you have any ideas for what we make next!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to Lembas?” YOU MIGHT ASKWell so the funny thing is we kinda dont know. At least not entirely? The elves are dicks like that. But heres what we'll be using in ours-

Butter

Self-rising flour

Granulated Sugar

Raisins

A small dried fruit of your choosing

Almonds OR Pecans

EGG

Whole Milk

Heavy Cream

And if you would like for dipping-

Blackberry jam

To the extent i understand this is kinda like hardtack from the bri'ish military, but a fantastical version of it that actually tastes really good. Hardtack was a military provision with the texture of a brick that took a long time to spoil and could be easily carried with soldiers. So the texture we're going for is super dense, packed full with nuts and fruits (haha just lik-), but perhaps not that dense. We want something closer to a dog biscuit than actual tack.

I remembered something about corn being mentioned, thankfully the wiki clarified that no actually the british just referred to any grain as corn back in the day. Thank Fuck! Although I would like to try a version of this using masa in the future.

AND, “what does Lembas taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK

Took a few tries but eventually got it perfectly chewy and dense

The raisins cook-in like little beads of flavortown sweetness

Cant speak for other fruits but for dried apple it softened up nicely, kinda matching the raisins in the end

Im a big pecan slut, pecans fuck on anything especially here. Crumble them on top after you coat the dough with the egg-mixture for some visual appeal

Somewhat flakey outside

The jam was my idea, it was nice but might be too sweet for some tastes

Would pair very well with a kiwi flavored drink

Or mead

I can see why this would a travelling provision. Its both sugary (a good thing when expending energy) and filling (also a good thing when youre travelling) while not being overwhelming with flavor (if youre prone to motion sickness. Horse sickness? Do get motion sickness on horses?)

Its like how if you're going hiking you want a good mix of sugars and salts, to balance your intake of water.

. If you wanna make it like the illustrations or the movie, use a cookie cutter for either triangles or squares . If you don't have a cookie cutter, an apple cutter also works ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . try to keep the board you'll roll the dough out onto chilled before you use it, it seems better for the texture of the food though i dont entirely know why

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So from beginning to end, it took about an hour and half for the first attempt. Down to about 40 minutes for the second attempt. These are a real simple recipe because its not like a croissant where the margin for error is nonexistent. Middle-earth be damned my boy can work a grill.

I'd recommend storing in a tubberware container, but if you're deadset on using leaves please rinse and dry them first, and wrap the bread in either wax paper or saran wrap underneath. We dont have mallorn leaves in real life (as far as we know) but most salad greens should work, or as Marie Porter says (linked in the reblogs!) a banana leaf.

I really enjoyed the process of making this recipe, itd be really easy to batch-bake these en masse, and the process of eating said recipe. Like all jokes aside, i think this would be a great substitute for trailmix. Its not going to get smushed and even if it breaks a bit it wont affect the taste. It wont keep you fed for a whole day but pair it with some pickles or a salty snack and yeah itll keep your motor running.

I give this recipe a solid 10/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Let me know if you think I got something wrong, or if you ran into issues with the recipe. We're off to a strong start, lads!

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

6 TBSP butter, chilled

2 cups self-rising flour

1 TBSP granulated sugar

½ cup raisins

½ other dried fruit (strawberry slices, oranges, etc.), chopped

Handful of almonds or pecans, chopped

1 egg, well beaten

½ cup whole milk

4 TBSP heavy cream

Method:

Preheat your oven to 400 f.

Cut the butter into slivers/small pieces. With your hands, combine the butter into the flour in a mixing bowl until the mixture resembles coarse sand.

Chop your dried nuts and dried fruit until it feels right.

Mix in the sugar, raisins, nut, and dried fruit of your choosing

In a seperate bowl, beat the egg until combined, and then mix in the milk until combined. Keep a bit of this mixture to brush the tops of the bread.

Stir while adding the egg/milk mixture and the heavy cream into the flour. Mix just until combined into a soft dough.

Knead the dough until firm on a floured surface.

Roll into a half inch thickness and cut with a square or leaf shaped cookie cutter. (...or in my case, an apple corer).

Place on a lightly greased baking sheet, with about an inch of space between each piece. Brush the tops of the lembas with some of the mixture you saved earlier.

Bake for about 15-20 minutes, or until it turns a soft gold and the inside is chewy.

#cross cooks lotr #lord of the rings #tolkien #lotr art

[ddejavvu]

For multiverse Monday!! Where reader is so attracted to dealer!remus and she acts like she wants to buy from him but she only wants a chance to approach him and he knows it because that is so not like her and he is like “what is the real reason you’re talking to me?” And everything it’s like so flirty and there is tensionnn

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

--

When Remus opens the door he honestly thinks he might be dreaming. After all, he's only hauled himself out of bed seconds ago to answer the timid knocks on his door, so he could be in some sort of fantasy. One where you're standing on his doorstep, little pink purse clutched in your quivering hands.

"Hello," He hums cautiously, "Did you need something?"

"I want to... to buy, uh," You lower your voice, leaning in to whisper, "Drugs."

Now he's sure he's dreaming. Because there's absolutely no way you'd ever be interested in anything illegal, especially not what he sells, because he's seen you scrunch your nose up at the smell before.

"Really," He feigns serious curiosity, stepping aside to let you into his apartment, "Well, you'd better come in then."

You peer cautiously around his living room, like you're worried the police have been lurking just behind the door, waiting to catch you. All you find is dirty laundry, basketball shorts in a heap on the floor beside his couch.

"What kind of drugs?" He asks, and something like fear flashes through your eyes.

"Marijuana." You say resolutely, like you've practiced in the car, "Uh, you sell that, right?"

"I do," He has to fight a grin off of his face at your demeanor, "How much weed do 'ya want?"

"Um," You fall silent and nervous, "Like- do you measure in pounds?"

Remus has to nearly bite through his tongue to stop from laughing.

"Alright, Y/N. Let's stop here. What do you really want?"

"Weed," You echo his slang from earlier, "I- I want to buy drugs, Remus, I told you."

"No, you don't." He narrows his eyes, resting his back against the now-closed door, "Come on, out with it. You and I both know you'd never do drugs, so why are you really here?"

You can't answer him. You can't muster up the courage to tell him you're only at his door to see his pretty face, but the more you twist your fingers together and gnaw at the inside of your cheek, he knows.

Apparently you're easy to read. His lips twist further up into a smirk the longer it takes you to answer, but when the silence becomes too much to bear, he steps in.

"If you're not here to buy weed," He muses, taking it painfully slow to induce the most heat to your cheeks, "Then I think you must be here for me, yeah? 'Cause there's no other reason people come to my place. Not like my cat's very friendly, you haven't come to see her. I returned that book on Greek mythology a week ago to the library, so you can't be after that. I'm the only option left. 'S that right?"

He's spelled it out plain and simple for you, and you don't think denial is an option anymore. You nod slowly, eyes timidly dropping to the floor. and you hear his soft huff of laughter even if you don't see the mixture of amusement and fondness that's on his face.

"Well I'm very flattered." He grins lazily, "Why don't you have a seat," Remus gestures to his couch, scratching an itch crawling up the back of his neck, probably from a crumb in his bed, "I'll get you some water, and we can watch a movie. That sound good?"

"Okay," You nod, relieved but still mortified by the whole ordeal as you sink into his couch cushions.

Remus has a semi-hard time finding you a clean glass, but when he returns, it's full of ice cold water. You take it gratefully, though you stiffen slightly with nerves when he plops down beside you on the couch, and he reaches for the remote with a scarred hand.

"I'm glad you were just trying to flirt with me, honey," He muses, clicking through the options of streaming services he has, "The way you were asking, I thought you were an undercover cop."

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin one-shot #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin dialogue #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin headcanons #remus lupin headcanon #remus lupin hc #remus lupin hcs #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #dealer!remus #multiverse mondays #ddejavvu's multiverse mondays

[pitifulbaby]

Battle Of The Bands

summary: most people do rather traditional gender reveals, but how does a couple who aren't traditional do one?

pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Pregnant!Reader

warnings: pregnancy, eddie has some big feelings, day million of alice not knowing how to do warnings, probably bad writing

a/n: i have been trying to write this for honestly wayyyy toooo long, longer than i should have but! i hope you enjoy this! thank you to the ever so cute @eddieschains for helping me with this! i hope you enjoy! 3.5k words

stranger things masterlist

Parties were never your favorite thing, the crowds were always rowdy and the smell of cheap beer and weed seemed to linger even after you left. But you never minded smaller parties- more so just a friends and family get together. Sure at times they could get loud, but it was never as intense as other parties. 

In an odd way you compared it to a spider, the bigger a party gets the more uncomfortable you are, much like a spider. Small spiders are bearable, but as they get bigger? Nope.

So never did you think you would ever have a gender reveal party, you figured if you had kids you would always just find out the gender through an ultrasound, and that never seemed to be a problem for you. It had been Eddie’s idea to do a gender reveal party. He wanted your child to get to experience things he never got to- even if it had to start way before the baby was here yet. 

You don’t blame him because you were the same way, you both grew up with hardships and not getting to have things other kids your age did. So you both vowed to give them as much as you can. You two were already obsessed with the baby, only being five months into your pregnancy.

The baby wasn’t fully planned, but that doesn’t mean you two weren’t welcoming the baby with open arms. Things happen for a reason, some good and some bad. But this seemed to be a good thing. Sure you both were rather young to be starting a family, but you two loved each other more than anything in this world, so you knew things would be okay. 

Eddie searched for all the ways people reveal the gender, cutting into a cake with the inside being blue or pink, opening a box to reveal balloons, popping those powder poppers, but Eddie thought those were boring and overdone, and truthfully you agreed with him. Maybe it was because those were rather traditional reveals and you two were probably the least traditional in anything. And finally the idea came to him.

The two of you often shopped at thrift stores or garage sales for things, mostly going shopping there for clothes for either of you- wanting to save money to buy brand new things for the baby. Currently your normal clothes just didn’t fit right anymore, some of the oversized shirts you owned still fit, but anything else was just too tight on your stomach that was housing another human. The thrift store you two often went to the most was smackdab in town, a mixture of modern and vintage things mingled into one shop. It was pretty big for a locally owned thrift store, with a section for clothing, furniture, books and movies, and well, everything else you would find at a place like goodwill, but with much nicer things for lower prices.

You were both looking through the maternity clothes, your brows furrowed as you tried to find something you liked. Eddie stood next to you, his hand on your lower back and rubbing soft circles against the fabric of the shirt you wore- that was also one of his shirts. Your gaze wandered over each and every clothing item you looked at, asking Eddie his opinions on whatever you pointed out. He gave you his honest opinion, which was that you would look good in anything, everything and even better in nothing. To which you would either scoff, roll your eyes, feel flustered or all of the above. 

After managing to find a good bit of things you liked, you two decided to head to the front to check out and pay. The owners of the store were an older couple, but today it was just the wife running the store. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the younger couple, she knew you both by name- always raved about how you were both her favorite customers. 

“Hey you two!” Her voice was cheery, a bit worn from years of smoking and just being as she was older, a southern drawl laced through some of the words she spoke. 

“Hi Mrs. Mabel,” Eddie replied with a smile, placing your clothes on the counter. The elder lady simply rolled her eyes at Eddie, smacking his arm softly, “I told you to stop adding ‘Mrs’ to the beginning of my name, makes me feel old and I already feel one foot in the grave.” Mabel scowled at the boy, which only caused you to laugh and lean against Eddie ever so. 

Mabel started to ring up the clothes that were priced amazingly low, smiling at the two love birds in front of her. “How have you been feeling, Mom?” She questions, eyes landing on you and letting her gaze shift to your swollen stomach. You simply let out a soft groan at her question, leaning more against Eddie as the woman lets out a snort of a laugh. “I get it honey,” She replies with a soft smile. 

The rest of the transaction goes fast, her quickly ringing the clothes up and bagging them. Before you two leave though she turns to Eddie. “This is a bit random, but someone dropped off this guitar and it's rather banged up so we aren’t going to sell it. Do you want it?” She questions as she brings up an older looking, wooden acoustic guitar. There was a large water stain on it and it looked like someone went to town on it with markers and crayons. There were scratches on it and one of the strings was snapped. 

As Eddie looks at the guitar, you could almost see the lightbulb going off above his head, a wide smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “You sure?” He asks, in which she simply nods, “You would be doing me a favor.” She says handing over the guitar. He grabs the neck of the guitar, “Thank you.” 

Once you two were seated in your car, Eddie seated in the drivers seat and you in the passenger, but before driving away he turns to you with a big smile. “I figured it out.” He says, a sense of pride evident in his voice. You arched a brow at him, leaning back against the seat and after moving the vents to blow air directly at you. Your head is turned to him, staring at him. The car is silent, which is much different from when you first get in his van and he puts the keys in, music usually will blast out- but he doesn’t play the music super loud in your car. It's always turned down to a respectable level. 

You two blink at one another for a moment before you finally speak, “Are you gonna tell me what you figured out or do I have to guess?” You ask with a cock of your head, Eddie blinks and lets out a small laugh, “Sorry, got distracted looking at you.” Somehow his smile manages to widen as he speaks. You roll your eyes to try and hide how flustered his words made you, feeling heat rise in your chest. “Stop it,” You manage to get out, words breathy.

“No sweetheart, I’m not gonna make you guess. I figured out how we are gonna do the gender reveal.” Eddie’s words are sickeningly sweet, leaning over the console to press a kiss to your lips before he is seated normal and driving the two of you back home.

Though you never enjoyed parties, you couldn’t help but be excited for this one. Nancy had helped you and Eddie plan the whole thing, letting you two come up with the ideas and came up with a few herself, and then she would help get the things needed. Since you and Eddie were far from traditional, you two planned it all differently than a normal gender reveal. The dress code was simple, if they thought you were having a girl you wore red, and if they thought you were having a boy you wore black. 

The party was being hosted at yours and Eddie’s home. Though the dress code was black and red, you two kept the other stuff the traditional blue and pink, only for the fact that it's rather hard to find baby items for parties in black and red. 

Nancy had come over at around 10:30 in the morning to help finish setting everything up. She came wearing an outfit that didn’t correspond with either red or black because she was the one who knew if it was a boy or a girl. Nancy was given the gender in an envelope, the ultrasound technician writing the gender of the baby down and sealing it up for you to give to whomever. So she was tasked with knowing.

Though the set up was simple, it screamed you and Eddie. Pink and blue guitar picks decorating the table, balloons shaped like music notes, lots of sweet treats and salty foods, you had gotten a cute journal and put it on the table for everyone to either sign their names or just write something sweet for the baby to read when they got older, and then a sign on the wall that said; 

“Battle of the bands! Cast your vote, BLACK Sabbath vs RED Hot Chilli Peppers!” 

The black was colored blue and the red was pink, and to cast your vote all you had to do was write your name on a little music note sticker and stick it under the respected side of the ‘band’ you were voting for. There were some other little things here and there, but the thing everyone was here for was of course, the reveal.

Eddie had thought long and hard about how to go about it, but the day Mabel gave him the old guitar that was honestly needing to be trashed, he knew what he had to do. Eddie explained to Nancy to get that colored powder that they use in the gender reveal videos, stick a bunch of it in the soundhole in the body of the guitar and then seal it up so none of the color seeps out.

And then it would be simple, the guitar would be smashed and the color would fly out.

Eddie had given you the opportunity to smash the guitar, but you told him you thought it would be better if he did, and after a bit of back and forthing he finally agreed to be the one to smash it.

The party was in full swing, it was full of your closest friends, the people who you thought of as your family. You weren’t close with your biological family, never really were. You were always the outcast, the black sheep so to say, of the family. And truthfully you can’t remember the last time they tried to contact you, so you never contacted them. So they weren’t invited to the party. 

The only person Eddie was truly in contact with in his family was his uncle Wayne, who was Eddie’s saving grace. So he was the only blood family there. 

Then of course there was the rest of corroded coffin, plus the other close members of the hellfire club. And then the other members of the close, tight knit family you created. 

Eddie was glued to your hip for most of the pregnancy, and today wasn’t any different- and to some others it would be annoying, but truthfully you didn’t mind it. Maybe you two were in the honeymoon phase, but it had been like this since you two started dating when you were both sixteen. But you were both now freshly twenty three, so perhaps this was just gonna be how you two would always be. 

A gentle hand was rubbing up and down your back, your lover letting you lean into him as you stood talking with Wayne. 

Wayne Munson was a wonderful man, a hardheaded gentleman with a heart of gold. He never doubted that either of you could take care of a child- though you knew he kinda hoped you two would’ve waited a little later in life. But, he was happy for you both and excited to be a grandfather, though he joked and said he was too young to be one.

“Now you tell me if this boy isn’t helping you, alright?” Wayne spoke, a southern twang laced in his words as his hand reaches out and grabs a hold of Eddie’s shoulder, giving him a small shake. His words caused you to laugh and Eddie to groan, “Wayne-” 

“He is very helpful, wont let me do anything myself.” You said with a bright smile, enjoying seeing Eddie embarrassed. But before the conversation could continue, Nancy was wandering over to the three of you, a soft smile on her face as she reaches a hand and places it against your arm. “You guys ready?” Nancy had told you guys to stay inside while she set the rest of the stuff outside, planning to do the reveal in the driveway. 

“You ready to smash a guitar?” You said as you turned to Eddie, you weren’t surprised to see him already looking at you, he pouts softly. “It's gonna feel like I'm committing a sin, but yes.” 

In truth he was scared as hell, not for the fact of smashing a guitar, but knowing the gender. It’s not that he wants one more than the other, it was more so the fact that the moment he knows what it will be will be making it that much more real. He was excited to be a father, but he still had that lingering fear of fucking up the kids life. He didn’t want to turn out like his dad, and it feels like everyday that passes the memories he had with his mother become more hazy. 

He had Wayne and he was the father figure he needed, but he still had that anxiety that no matter what, that it would happen. No matter how many times you reassure him he can’t help but wonder, what if it's just in his genetics? What if sometime down the line something in him switches and he becomes a carbon copy of his father?

But everytime you look at him with that smile, each time he feels a kick, looking at the sonogram, that fear seems to slowly start to fade. 

Moments later the gaggle of your found family is crowded in the driveway, Eddie holding the guitar carefully as his gaze finds yours. Jonathan was in charge of recording it all, which he had no problem in doing so, Nancy was stood by a radio, shoving a cassette tape in and soon Sweet Child O’ Mine by Guns n’ Roses was playing through. The song causes Eddie to laugh, his grip on the guitar tightening as he holds it safe and nearly doubles over in laughter, which in turn causes you to laugh at his enjoyment. 

Neither of you were expecting the song choice, but boy was it welcomed. 

Once again Eddie was looking towards you, “Ready?” He yelled out to you over the song, placing the guitar over his shoulder and gripping the neck tight. Your left hand went and rested against your stomach, nodding with a bright smile. “C’mon! I wanna know what I’m growing!” You soon exclaimed back, you knew no matter what gender you were having you would be happy, and you knew you sounded like most every parent out there when you said all you wanted was for the baby to be healthy, but it was true. That was all that mattered to you, that the baby was happy and healthy. 

With a playful eyeroll Eddie was then rearing back the guitar before smashing it against the concrete. And with the single smash the neck of the guitar snapped off, causing pink powder to puff out of the body of the guitar and settle against the ground.

Eddie is then letting go of the broken neck, jumping for joy as he hollers excitedly. You, of course, were an emotional mess. The moment the color appeared the tears pooled in your eyes and slipped down your cheeks. Everyone around you was screaming and cheering, but they got tuned out the moment the gender was revealed. 

It didn’t take a second longer before Eddie was sprinting towards you and taking you into his arms. A second later he was pulling away, resting his hands against your cheeks. “We are gonna have a baby girl!” You sobbed out, hands grasping the sides of his shirt. His only reply was an excited laugh, pressing his lips to yours- but it was difficult to kiss as you two smiled so intensely. 

The kiss was interrupted as a pop! Sound was heard, which turned out to be Gareth and Dustin popping streamers over you and Eddie. The male pulled you into a hug once again, pressing kisses to your forehead as your friends swarmed over. 

“I told you guys it was gonna be a girl.” You heard Max say to Dustin and Lucas, her arms crossed over her chest as she smirked at them. “I should’ve bet money on it.” She added, which made Dustin roll his eyes and Lucas to shrug his shoulders. 

The rest of the party seemed to settle after that, the younger hellfire members helping clean off the driveway- which was just hosing down the driveway. Everyone chatted for a bit before starting to leave, not before giving the two of you a hug and words of congratulation. Nancy, Jonathan and Wayne had stayed back to help clean, there wasn’t much to clean and you know it wouldn’t take long for you and Eddie to do it, but they took the chores upon themselves. 

Each and every single time you tried to help you were just shooed away, which in a way you were okay with- you had been on your feet for quite some time today and you were really feeling it now. 

Wayne ended up staying the longest, helping Eddie make the three of you a nice dinner before he decided it was time for him to head back home, leaving with a kiss to your forehead and a soft smile. Eddie had walked Wayne out to his truck, which you knew that they would be outside talking for a good while. So while they were outside you had gotten yourself ready for bed, laying under the downy soft comforter with a book. 

Eddie had wandered back inside almost half an hour after he walked his uncle out, a tired glaze in his eyes and his features relaxed. He locked up the house before stepping into your shared bedroom, quickly changing into a pair of pajamas- which consisted of an old pair of sleep pants and a shirt he cut the arms off. Once he had gotten under the covers he was propping himself up on his side, gently taking your book from your hands and putting the bookmark in. 

He placed the book on the side table before settling back where he just was, his free hand nudging up your cotton sleep shirt and resting upon your bump. You two just laid there and stared at one another for a moment or so, his thumb rubbing against your skin. 

You could feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes, letting yourself curl into Eddie. “Oh honey,” He cooed softly, laying back flat on the bed and taking you with him. Your arms wrap around his torso as you rest your head against his chest- not fully laying on him, more so half on him. “What's wrong?” He asked quietly, “I don’t mean to cry,” You start with a sniffle, “I’m just, really happy.” Your words were sincere, giving Eddie a squeeze as you spoke. With a small laugh he is pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Me too, a baby girl. In just four more months we will have a daughter.” Eddie spoke with awe in his voice, his hand starting to rub your back while the other one takes a hold of your hand and rests it against his chest. Your tears had subsided, more so just watering up but they never fell. You find yourself relaxing as you listen to the thud, thud, thud, of your lovers heartbeat. Feeling any tense muscles in your body ease up as your eyes slip shut.

“We are gonna have to come up with a name, and we still need to paint the nursery- how is it that nine months feels so long but, fuck, its going by so fast.” Your words were slightly slurred as you felt the tug of sleep pulling at you, “I still think that Ozzy is a kickass name.” Eddie said after a few moments of silence, causing a laugh to bubble up, moving your hand from his hold and reaching over and gently pinching his nipple.

“Hey! Stop- what if I gotta breast feed?” Eddie nearly squeals, using his now free hand to cover his nipple. “You grabbing my nipples is how you got pregnant.” He grumbles, “If I remember correctly it was the other way around.” You retorted back, “Also, if you somehow magically start producing milk, I am taking you to a doctor.” Was the last thing you managed to say before sleep finally took hold of you.

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x pregnant reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie x reader

[luci1fer]

SESH WITH THEM

⚠️: makeout session, thigh/butt/boob grabbing, grinding, subtle moans, light choking, neck kisses, hickeys

- E-42

This is one of the only times he could relax and let go. The sessions between you two are always so ethereal bc you see a softer side of him, a side that only you and his mom see. But, you’re the only person he gets to confide in without using words.

The two of you are sitting upright on his bed, one hand entwined and lips attached. You’re sitting on his lap with your left hand around his neck, slightly grabbing it. His right hand is on your butt, giving you light squeezes every now and then.

You’re slowing grinding on him, his crotch right up under yours as you both let out sighs of pleasure and relief. Miles even lets a little moan slip from him. He’s so in tune with you and so calm around you, he allows himself to be vulnerable. You’ve shown him that he can be vulnerable around you.

You don’t even know how it got to this, was it “Could’ve Been” by H.E.R quietly playing in the background? Was it that he kept rubbing your thigh and giving you a small smile when you glanced at him? Or was it the fact that you two just really wanted to enjoy each other’s company and give each other the most attention you could give?

It didn’t matter in the moment. Both of you just wanted each other’s energy. He wanted you to keep grinding on him the way you were. You wanted him to keep rubbing your ass the way he was. You could feel his increasing heartbeat as you deepened the kisses. He felt so small under you but he loved it.

Before Miles knew it, both of your shirts began to slip off. After 15 minutes of making out, the second stage was beginning. He slowly began to massage your tits through the bra, allowing you to let out small moans into his mouth. Your left hand moved from his neck to his chest, subconsciously going up and rubbing his lower abdomen. A shiver went up his spine as he broke the kiss and let out a quiet gasp into your neck.

You smiled to yourself as you had found something that made him tingle. He began to kiss your neck and leave little hickeys that could barely be seen due to your complexion. You did the same, leaving one dark purple hickey that could be blended in with his prowler suit.

For a moment, you two stopped to stare at each other. You could see the mixture of love and yearning for you in his eyes. All the emotions and intimidation of the prowler has quieted down, and it was just your beautiful boyfriend. You two began to smile at each other and even let out a little laugh. If it was one thing that Miles had learned from you, it was that vulnerability was not weak.

- E-1610

Miles is a lot more playful during these sessions. He lets you take the lead, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t do anything to you. He loves when you grab the back of his neck to deepen the kiss. It makes him feel like he’s in a movie or a book. He knows you love to have your ass grabbed because the first time he did it, you let out a little moan into his ear….had him thinking about that for DAYS.

He’s usually the one to pick the music bc he listens to more music than you. This time, he chose the playlist with “Sativa” by Jhené Aiko in it, one of his favorite Swae Lee features. You love to lay on top of him when you two makeout and he doesn’t object because it gives him more access to you.

He loves to hold hands when you two are making out. Believe it or not, Miles is never really relaxed. He’s always rushing, always has somewhere to go, always jittery, anxiety be on 10. But when he’s holding you, when he feels you, all of that goes away. This is one of the only moments where he isn’t worried about grades, being Spider-Man, or his parents. When your lips connect with his, a switch is flipped.

You start to grind on him, his crotch rubbing up on yours. He quickly hides his moan in your ear…and the hand on your ass squeezes harder. He tried to slow his heartbeat down as you’re giving him those neck kisses he loves some much. You leave a hickey that he knows his parents will raise hell if they see, but he doesn’t care in the moment.

As you keep slowly grinding on him, he’s taking yours and his shirt off and grabbing your boobs under the bra. You let out a moan that thankfully couldn’t be heard past your door. You could feel him getting a little carried away but you didn’t care. He didn’t care either, he just wanted you, he needed you.

He added a heavy handed slap to your ass that made you gasp. He then chuckled quietly to himself as you did the same. Your tongue began to slip into his mouth, making both of you moan into each other’s mouths. You grabbed his neck, choking him lightly, something he didn’t know he liked.

Your lips departed as you both started cracking up out of nowhere, seeing as how wild you two had gotten. These are the moments he loved the most, the little things that were irreplaceable. Moments like these where he felt like a regular boy in Brooklyn who had someone he loved.

Note…this is for all races(but the target audience is black readers)

#miles morales #across the spiderverse #spiderman #earth 42 #miles morales x reader #earth 1610 #prowler miles #black reader

[thekingofwinterblog]

Tolkien's crowns.

You know something that really annoys me about the Tolkien movie adaptions?

Crowns.

Like a lot of things Jackson did, he basically crafted something completely new out of the bare bones we get from some descriptions, for better or worse, but the Crowns are another matter, because not only did Tolkien give very clear descriptions, and even drew the two most notable ones(the crowns of the dwarves and gondor)that appeared over the course of Lotr and the Hobbit, both had very, very clear cut meanings and symbolism behind them, that tied them to their real life origins.

The crowns of the dwarves of Erebor and Moria look like someone took their helmets and filed down the sides so only the skeleton remained, to varying degrees of success.

But you know what tolkien used?

In the books, Tolkien's dwarves uses crowns speciffically modeled after the crown of the Austrian-Hungarian Empire.

Why?

Well if you know anything about said empire, and the actual inspiration for Tolkien's dwarves, the picture is a bit clearer.

See Tolkien specifically modeled his dwarfs, their history of losing a homeland, desire for a new one, and their proud, industrious culture of craftsmen and skills of making money on a mixture between the Norse mythical dwarves, and the Jews in the long centuries after the Romans kicked them out of their original homeland.

Now with this in mind, Tolkien choosing to model the Dwarves crown on the Austrian one is him specifficaly choosing a real, Germanic crown as the inspiration... As well as a nod to the fact that the Austria-Hungarian empire was legendary for his time(The time Tolkien grew up in) as a progressive haven for jews, probably the best in Europe.

An empire, that was also destroyed by fires of war, just Moria and Erebor.

In other words, there is so much symbolism here that is completely and totally stripped away by the helmet crowns the movies gave them.

Hell, even the original hobbit animated movie got this right, while Jackson did not, as they basically just made the crown the austrian one, just a bit more exagerated.

Meanwhile, there is the crown of gondor, which completely missed absolutely everything tolkien tried to do with the Gondor crown.

It's a crown that fits perfectly with the rest of the city, this is truly a crown of the Gondor that the movies portrayed.

Meanwhile, Tolkiens Winged silver crown... Does not.

Even within the context of the fact that the books gondor is an early medieval(as it does not have plate armor at all) styled kingdom in terms of armor and clothing design, the crown does NOT fit in the slightest.

And that's the point.

The original crown of Gondor was a simple war Helm of the day that Elendil wore, and the later one that Aragorn wore was a more fancy replica of that helmet.

It is outdated by thousands of years, a relic of an elder time that was long lost even when Gondor's lost it's Kings in the first place. It's not supposed to fit in.

Also the fact that Elendil wore this, and it was considered just fine, tells us a lot about Gondor's fashion and style of arms during the closing days of the second age.

However, then we get into the deeper meaning behind the crown and where it was inspired from.

Gondor's winged crown was very deliberately inspired and based on the crowns of ancienct egypt, which was one of the main inspirations for Gondor and(to a lesser extent) arnor.

Just like Egyot there were two kingdom, an upper and a lower one, though in middle earth it was instead called the northern and southern ones.

Just like egypt, Gondor's entire socity and political and economic strength was based around their massive river that ran through the realm.

Just like Egypt, one of the biggest problems the gondorian elites had was their obsession with grand mousoleums and graves for their elites, focusing far more on the dead rather than their living children, and wasting who knows how much coin, manpower, energy and resources on such rather than just burying them in thr ground.

Basically the same problem egypt had building stupidly expensive superstructures for their dead in the form of pyramids, rather than something actually useful.

Then there is the fact that just like how lower and upper egypt combined their regalia together(as in they fused the two crowns into one, bigger one), Aragorn very deliberately made the royal regalia of the reunited Kingship BOTH his ancient and out of place winged crown, and the Silver scepter of Annuminas, the royal symbol of Arnor, combining the two of them together into one office.

#j r r tolkien #tolkien's legendarium #peter jackson #lord of the rings #the hobbit #crowns #meta #austria hungary #egypt #symbolism #gondor #arnor #khazad dum

[bldngiris]

꒰OKLAHOMA SMOKESHOW ꒱ . . . d winston !

pairing(s) : book! dallas winston x fem!soc! reader

in which y/n dreams of escaping tulsa but her dad is holding her back. however dallas winston listens and yearns.

requested : yes or no.

!! content warnings : yelling, swearing, r's father is an ass, r is a soc but she doesn't like being one, discrimination. movie dallas used only for visuals even though i used blonde book dallas in mind!! mentions of religion, angst

robin chirps : happy easter!! this fic is inspired by oklahoma smokeshow by zach bryan :) bold is the song lyrics!

go on and put on that dress that all the bad boys like.

y/n stood in front of her full-length mirror and took a look at herself one last time before heading out the door. if her father had caught her wearing anything other than appropriate soc attire, she would be done for. the amount of times she had been hit on by cocky high class boys who just wanted to get into her pants was numerous, alas her father didn't care. "you don't want to look like one of those greasy balls of garbage do you?" he would ask her. truth was y/n didn't want to be a soc. sh didn't want to be a greaser either. she wanted to escape tulsa and live in a city without labels and get away from all the hostility stored away in the streets of tulsa.

i know your daddy ain't home so ride with me tonight. you always wind up here in a puddle of tears

y/n had made her way to the diner with her friends. however, her "friends" had left her midway through the walk home to go hang out with a group of other socs. it had started to rain and the closest place y/n could go to was bucks. y/ns feet subconsciously made their way to the building lit by neon beer signs, ignoring the voice in the back of her head saying, "if i catch you 'round one of them greaser places.."

she slowly opened the door to the place, as a mixture of tears, mascara and raindrops ran down her face, her hair sticking to her face, her dress drenched. many eyes were on her as barely, if any, socs came to bucks. whispers, some louder than others presumably by drunk men were heard as y/n sat on one of the bar stools.

them boys are out and they're angry and they're lookin' for blood In the back of a blue old pick up truck. you've got nowhere to go although you're all gussied up

y/n sat at the barstool, a shaggy, pale, blonde boy sat beside her, a malboro cigarette hanging out of his mouth loosely.

"hey man, what're you doin' out here?" he asked the soc, curiously, in a sluggish tone of voice. y/n sniffled.

"my friends left me when we were at the diner, n' i didn't wanna get jumped, it's dangerous walkin' home by myself, y'know." she sniffled again. "plus, it's cold and wet." she paused again. dallas listened, as he hummed and nodded, understanding what she was talking about.

there's so much whiskey in his coke it'll make her nose bend

"that really sucks man," he muttered taking a sip of his whiskey and coke, y/n could smell the drink from her seat. dallas did't turn away or ignore her after that. they spent the next hour talking.

but she swears that his love is a damn god send

don't get me wrong, dallas hated socs. but y/n was different, under the high class, hair done, pretty dress facade, she was a normal girl yearning for more than just a privilege title. the two could relate on another level which dallas had appreciated. dallas and y/n both wanted more or less the same thing, both wanted to escape tulsa, but more or less everything was holding them back from doing so.

she's known god since she was a child, she used to play in the yard and she would dream of one day

y/n played in the front yard of her house with a white picket fence. she saw two kids around her age, playing over by a park around the 'border' between the west and east side.

"hi! im y/n can i play with you?" she asked the three children. they were greaser children, as seen by the difference in their appearance.

'til the world came around and took her dreaming away. told her how to dress and act and smile.

"sure! im soda, thats johnny and that one over there is steve" one said. soon enough, y/n's father had come out of the house, soon following a burst of yelling came about. "y/n get over here and away from that white trash." he exclaimed. y/n wondered, how could a grown adult be so hostile toward children? y/ns father grabbed the little girls hand and took her back over to the freshly painted house on the block.

'y/n, sweetie, you know better than to talk to those type of people." he told her. "now, im sure mrs. sheldon and mrs. valances children would love to play with you hm?" he said. the little girl with pigtails and turned around to watch the greaser kids looking at her sadly, eventually cheering themselves up and laughing softly as they played on the monkey bars.

she's an oklahoma smokeshow. he's an asshole from back home. she'll never make it out alive.

that night, at bucks dallas and y/n talked for hours. y/n told dallas about her image and how she was forced by her father to keep up the good girl act, how every soc guy just wanted to get in her pants and how she's never going to make it out alive.

dallas told her about how he grew up in the streets of brooklyn, new york because his asshole father didn't give a shit about him. his mother and grandmother didn't have enough to provide, because his dad kept taking the profit to the bottle. he ended up in juvi by the time he was ten for theft, trying to provide for his family until he just left and ended up here in tulsa.

that small town bar scene, where small vices kill your big dreams. he'd take you home but he's too drunk to drive.

"but my dad will never let me leave, not until i'm 21 at least, and if i do, he'll list me as a runaway to the police and they'll come and find me." she muttered, solemnly. it was nearly midnight now. dallas way to intoxicated to drive. y/n had used bucks landline to call a cab as she made her way home, thinking of the boy who had changed her life in a mere few hours.

well, I've been here, I've been up all night. thinkin' 'bout a life with you and i. one you'll never know 'cause you're a small town smokeshow.

dallas layed there, head empty except for the thought of y/n. it was nearly 3 in the morning at this point, but all he could think about was the girl who he had just met but felt like they had known each other for years and there he continued dreaming, because unfortunately for him only one of the two got their 'escape' from the prejudice of tulsa, oklahoma. unfortunately, it wasn't y/n. unfortunately, it wasn't the way either of them planned.

#dallas winston #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston oneshot #dallas winston imagine #the outsiders x reader #angst #the outsiders #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders oneshot #the outsiders x yn #the outsiders x you #the outsiders x fem reader #the outsiders 1983 #the outsiders 1967 #book! dallas winston #collected works.

[blegh-110]

Have I found you, flightless bird? (2/?)

Pairing: Soft!Dark!Tangerine x Fem!Reader

Summary: The night finally comes where Tangerine makes his move.

Chapter Warnings: Obsessive behavior, criminal activity, talk of nonconsensual drugging (let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: Happy Monday! Hope this makes your day a little better! Just fyi, I got a job so the next chapter might take a while to come out. Anyways, happy reading!! :)

Tangerine was feeling stressed. Really fucking stressed and worried.

If anyone knew he was an assassin, a brutal one at that, they would have found his state comical. Who knew that someone who kills others as an occupation is feeling sick to his stomach because the girl he likes is no more than fifteen feet away from him. 

Tangerine stares at the back of your head through the door for a few more seconds then goes into the bathroom to compose and settle himself down. Fixing any wrinkle in his coat, smoothing out his hair and mustache, as well as putting his rings and necklace into place. He needs to look absolutely perfect and presentable for you. 

Before he walks out and makes his way back to you, he reminds himself that there is no way he could lose you. He and Lemon made sure of it. They both had bought all the tickets for the night, so there were no other passengers on the train but you two. This will give Tangerine some alone time with you, as well as the chance for you to know him. He had also bought a ticket that had his assigned seat directly across from you. Next, they paid the workers to help him keep you on the train, as well as some more to keep their mouths shut after tonight. The last thing they did was ask and pay the conductor, who controls opening and closing the doors on the train, to keep the doors closed and locked the entire night. There is no way you were getting off the bullet train until you two arrived at Tangerine's home, which will soon become your new home.

While these thoughts were bouncing around in Tangerine’s head, you were sitting in your seat waiting for the train to take off when you realize just how empty the carriage is. Which surprises you. There would usually be at least half the seats taken, so seeing it empty was a bit weird. Especially when you look out the window and see hundreds of people in the streets. The difference makes you feel just a little uneasy and you start to get bored, so to distract yourself, you dig into your bag and pull out a book and begin reading. 

After the first few sentences, you start to get sucked into the story. It’s like the world around you slowly fades away and you are inserted into the novel. You eventually feel as though you aren’t even reading anymore because the words on the pages turn into a movie in your mind. You can clearly picture the descriptions of people and places, and feel what they feel, and-

“Excuse me, miss.” You hear someone say behind you, making you flinch in your seat at the sudden voice with an accent that sounded familiar. You place your book on the table before you turn around, and immediately want to disappear. It’s him again, you would’ve recognized that mustache anywhere. You feel a sense of deja vu as your cheeks heat up and your brain turns into mush as you stare up at him. God, he’s so handsome. 

What makes this situation worse was that after being so immersed into a book, you would often get a little woozy because the world had a wiggle to it for a few seconds. So you were feeling extra disoriented.

“I think my seat is across from you, love.” He says gently, giving you butterflies once again, and points to his seat. And just in a short amount of time, seconds, you felt a mixture of emotions. One, that feeling when you can’t breathe or think properly because there is an extremely attractive person in front of you and he called you love again. Two, the feeling of terror because that said person is going to be sitting three feet away from you and you have to somehow act like you’re heart isn’t about to explode. Three, despite the fear, there was a small part of you that was thrilled to have someone so perfect be so close. Plus, he smelled good and you were pretty sure you had already fallen in love with this man.

Meanwhile, Tangerine genuinely cannot believe he is in front of you. After weeks of looking at you from a distance, he can’t help but stare down at you and take you all in. And he isn’t subtle about it either. He feels no shame when his eyes wander from your hair to your nose to your lips and all over tired face. 

“Oh, okay.” You hope you sound normal and not like a nervous wreck. The man smiles at you and sits down. The sudden realization really sinks into you that he was going to be sitting across from you for however long. Could be twenty minutes, could be an hour. You just wish the burning in your face would go away, you were getting sweaty in such a short amount of time and it was uncomfortable. A part of you also curses him for choosing the seat across from you and not any of the empty ones all around you. 

As he’s settling in his seat and taking off his coat, you quickly pick your book up again, right in front of your face so he doesn’t see you, but don’t even try to read the text. You’re in no state of mind to comprehend any sort of sentence but you just want to take a moment and pull yourself together. But Tangerine doesn’t want to wait anymore than he should. While he understands that he probably should take his time at this stage, he doesn’t want to wait ten minutes sitting in silence, then make his move. 

He also thinks that at this point, you’re practically his and he’s yours now, so what’s the harm in speeding up the process just a little?

“My name is Tangerine, by the way. I’m gonna be here for a while, and I, uh, assume you are as well?” He made sure to talk quietly and slowly, not wanting to scare you off. Lemon had told him that he could be a little too straightforward, well, a lot actually. And to not dive straight into the abduction part of his plan. Tangerine was also well aware that you were a jumpy little thing, so he uses his tone and chooses his words carefully. 

“Tangerine?” Your eyes peek over your book and Tangerine resists the urge to coo at your shyness. While your agitation doesn’t completely go away, some of it is replaced with confusion. You had never heard such a name, but it was cute. And strangely fitting how someone so intimidating and with a large frame was nicknamed something small. 

Before answering, Tangerine decides he wants to mess with you a bit as he’s slightly entertained seeing you squirm in your seat and avoid any sort of contact. Although he isn’t as skilled as Lemon was with reading people, he can still see people’s true character and feelings to an extent. You also aren’t someone who is good at hiding their feelings, you’re an open book and that just made it easier for Tangerine to understand your personality more. 

He nods then tilts his head in faux uncertainty, “You know, you look really familiar. Have we met before?”

“Uh, yes, actually. Like three months ago, I think.”

Tangerine’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach, feeling offended that you don’t remember. Two months ago, He corrects you in his head.

“It was only a few seconds though.” You continue. 

Tangerine nods his head again, not putting away his confused expression and furrowed eyebrows which makes you nervous. He’s looking at you like you're doing something wrong, “You’re not stalking me, are you?” 

Now you’re really at a loss for words. What could you say to that? The answer was obviously no, but the question and his genuine concern shocks you to your core. And you’re aware that your lack of a quick answer makes you look suspicious and you start to feel even more nervous as his eyes are dead set on you. 

“I- no, I’m not I promise-” You shake your head and start but then cut yourself off when you see a smirk make its way on his face, one that makes your heart swoon but you also want to slap him for his “joke”. Even though this furthers you more into humiliation, you feel your lips curl into a smile that you try to hide by looking away outside the window. 

“That was really funny.” You try to say with indifference but you can’t help but smile widely and let out a breathy laugh that Tangerine wants to remember forever. 

He gazes at you for a little while longer. Which, at the moment, is difficult because you're facing away from him and hiding behind your hair. But through the strands, he can see a grin and you stifle a laugh. His concentration is soon broken when you both hear the sound of a door opening and Tangerine sees a woman pushing a cart with various colorful snacks and drinks.

You immediately sit up and dig back into your bag for your wallet, excited for your treats after another long and awful day at work. 

“Hello, would either of you like a snack or a drink?” The kind lady asks with a smile. Tangerine nods to you, silently telling you to go first while he reaches into his pocket for his own wallet.

“I’d like a fish biscuit, please, and a…” You pause for a moment, inspecting the numerous flavored sodas and juices in front of you and trying to decide which one sounded good. Tangerine smiles adoringly at you. He finds your serious expression absolutely adorable, the way your eyes went from bottle to bottle with furrowed eyebrows reminds him of a small but angry kitten. 

“I’ll have the mango juice. Thank you very much.” You say and are about to hand her the money when Tangerine speaks up suddenly. 

“I can get that for you, darling. Here you go,” Tangerine gives the woman five times as much money making your eyes widen, “May I have four more of those biscuits and juices, please?”

“Oh, no, you really don’t have to-” You begin but the woman is already placing five biscuits and five drinks on the table before she states that the train will be going in about a minute or so, then she leaves.

“I really don’t mind, it’s nice to have a friend right now,” Tangerine wants to shoot himself after saying friend. Just the thought of you being anything but his lover makes him feel irritated. But that sweet smile and starry eyes you give him as he pushes the pile of snacks towards you is enough to make his heart slow down. You’re too cute for your own good… and my own good, Tangerine thinks. “Also, think of this as an apology for my joke.” He refers to him asking you if you’ve been stalking him.

“Oh, yeah. That was really mean.” You say in a teasing tone while smiling. You reach for a biscuit and mango juice, ready to eat but the plastic wrapping around the lid slows you down.

“And I’m truly sorry for it, love.” His tone is nowhere near sympathetic and there is a small smirk on his face.

“Well you’re forgiven, and thank you, this is really nice of you, Tangerine.” You look at him shyly then quickly back down to the cap you’re still trying to open. He is so gorgeous and kind that it’s overwhelming to look at him longer than three seconds. 

You give up unwrapping the plastic from the cap with your hands and bring the bottle up to your mouth, ready to use your teeth to tear it when Tangerine stops you.

“No, don’t use your teeth. Give that to me.” He takes the bottle away from you and easily tears through the plastic, then gives it back. You let out a small thank you, once again, your heart fluttering at the smallest amount of his attentiveness he gives you. As you’re taking a sip, you watch Tangerine grab a fish biscuit and open it before placing it on a napkin and pushing it to you. Again, a small action that probably didn’t mean much to anyone, but it meant everything to you.

You can’t remember the last time someone showed you an ounce of kindness. And here this stranger is, treating you decently and raising your expectations of men in a blink of an eye. Even though you didn’t have much to offer, you want to repay his kindness back, so you do the same thing, minus the drink part because you struggle to open it.

“Well aren’t you a sweetheart, thank you.” Tangerine wants to lean across the table and kiss your warm cheeks when you push a biscuit and drink to him. You really were an angel, a silent dream. How you remained this way through your asshole coworkers and viscous parents, Tangerine does not know. He would have lost his shit long ago and taken his frustration out on anybody that crossed him.

Before he takes a bite, he takes his blue blazer off and rolls his sleeves up, revealing a couple tattoos and veins running down his forearm. You gulp and have to force yourself to look away, thinking how a man like him is real and attractive and at the same time, not insane or a jerk. 

“You’re welcome.” You say timidly and begin eating, trying not to stare. Tangerine chuckles at your response, finding your manners incredibly cute. 

“Also, sorry for having a seat so close to you, the guy selling me the ticket didn’t let me choose my seat.”

“That’s okay, I don’t mind.” You give him another smile that goes straight to Tangerine’s heart and he withholds himself from wrapping his arms around you and wiping away the crumbs on your lips. 

-

For the next fifty minutes, it felt as though you and Tangerine were detached from the rest of the world. The two of you were completely caught up with each other, acting like little kids who liked one another. You listened intently to the stories Tangerine had about him and his brother, Lemon, when they were younger. You laughed at their silly antics and awed at how he talked about him like he was his whole world. And just by listening to Tangerine, you could easily tell that he’s the type of person who loves passionately. Growing up in a household where you saw your parents fighting more than anything, it was lovely to hear about their brotherly love. And you couldn’t help your mind wander off, wondering what it would be like to be loved by someone like Tangerine, or by Tangerine himself. 

You guys also talked about your own hobbies, which he surprisingly liked as well. You brought up Jersey Shore being your comfort tv show, which made Tangerine laugh and ask you why. And you explained that it was just mindless and entertaining television. Then you gave him the full rundown of the infamous note Jwoww and Snooki gave to Sammi Sweetheart in season two, this engrossed him completely, which made you laugh. 

Along with this, the books you read and loved, Tangerine did as well! You both discussed events and themes and different characters from different books. He even let you talk about ones you hadn’t read but wanted to. He listened to everything you had to say like it was the most important thing, because to him, it was. Tangerine had been on the sidelines watching you and doing nothing else for two months, and he was longing to know you. So he was more than content to sit back and let you ramble, he felt it was a privilege to hear you speak and know what you were thinking. 

You were aware that you were talking a lot and surprisingly, you liked the attention he was giving you. You liked the look he gave you with his chin in his palm and liked that he gave his own commentary and thoughts. This was the first human interaction you had where you didn’t want to run away or were waiting for it to end. 

It had not even been an hour, but for the first time in long while, you were happy. You hadn’t smiled widely for so long your cheeks hurt, or felt comfortable enough to want to tell Tangerine everything about yourself. It was overwhelming the emotions you felt, but at the same time it wasn’t enough. But even with this happiness, you felt it was only temporary. You knew that in about five minutes, the bullet train would be at your stop and you would have to get off and go back to your apartment all alone, most likely never seeing Tangerine again. These thoughts came up when the intercom announced that the bullet train will be stopping soon and you physically felt your high spirits evaporate.

“It was really nice getting to know you, Tangerine. Seriously, this has been the best part of my day.” You smile at him sadly as you get up from your seat when the train slows down. 

Tangerine doesn’t respond, instead he’s waiting for one of the workers to show up and do their job. He starts to become impatient and irritable, wondering where they were and why the fuck they were taking so long. As you’re gathering your stuff and putting on your coat, you hear the door to the carriage open and one of the workers comes through.

“Hello, I’m very sorry miss, but we can’t get the doors to open at the moment. They seem to be broken.” The woman says apologetically.

“That’s okay, I can just go through the next door.” You shrug and start to walk away when she quickly blocks you from going through the door to the next carriage, “None of them are opening right now, miss. Please sit down and we’ll begin our ride to the next stop.”

Your eyes widen, “The next stop?”

“Yes.” She smiles at you like this situation is not a big deal, like this is a normal day for her, which baffles you. She is about to leave when you're the one stopping her.

“Wait, can’t you just-I don’t know, stop the train for now and fix it? I really need to get home” You don’t mean to sound whiny, but you were extremely tired and just wanted to lay down. You also have another early day at work and need all the sleep you can get so you’re not too inadequate. 

While you try to convince the woman to talk to the conductor and ask him to not leave the station, Tangerine is sitting in his seat watching the whole thing, trying not to show any signs of satisfaction or excitement. He was only getting closer and closer to his plan being complete. But that goes away and is replaced with worry when another worker comes in and waves at him to come close. He sighs with annoyance and gets up, hoping something hadn’t gone wrong. The worker leads him to the next carriage. 

“Um, mister Tangerine. We’re having trouble with the doors in carriage fourteen, they seem to be broken and they won’t close.” Although it seemed like a small issue, Tangerine was an assassin. And his job required that he think of every single thing that could go wrong in a mission. And right now his mind was immediately going to you walking further down the train, noticing the doors were open, and you slipping through his fingers. He needs to get back to you quickly and make sure you don’t wander off. 

“Alright, what the fuck do you want me to do about it then?” His voice was quiet and calm, but the worker knew he was pissed because of his clenched jaw and intense eye contact. He also wasn’t sure what to say.

“Well don’t just stand there, you twat. Get someone to fuckin’ shut the door.” Tangerine doesn’t let the man speak as he walks back and he sees you slumped in your seat with a tired look on your face. He immediately wants to sit next to you and hold you in his arms and tell you to go to sleep, but he is not at that stage yet. But his patience is wearing thin, and he feels he is close to snapping. 

“This doesn’t make sense, why are we even going to the next stop when the doors aren’t even working?” You grumble in your seat and look out the window. Tangerine finds your pout cute and has to look away so he doesn’t smile in adoration because he knows you're annoyed and doesn’t want to make you feel worse. 

He understands that this is a huge inconvenience for you and that you had the right to be annoyed. But at the same time, he wants to tell you that you won’t ever have to work anymore and that he’s going to love you and take care of you from now on. As cute as your angry little face is, knock that attitude off.

-

With every station the bullet train arrives at and the doors don't open, the more infuriated you become. And when you become like this, you don't want to speak to anyone, you simply don’t have the energy or interest. And this is a problem for Tangerine, all he wants to do is talk to you. Because of this, his mood drops as well. He is ready to knock some sense into you and reveal that you were going home with him and staying there. He sees you look at your phone to check the time and you huff. This prompts him to check his watch. 8:49.

“You know what? I can’t just sit here and wait anymore. There’s fifteen carriages and two doors between each one, one of them has to work.” You say angrily and start to gather your stuff again. While on your small rampage, you don’t even look at Tangerine once. As far as he knows, you were talking to yourself. And when you’re about to walk away, you don’t say goodbye. And this really hurts and makes Tangerine angry. He’s too caught up in his emotions that he forgets about the doors at carriage fourteen. But he realizes at the last second

“Y/N, sit down!” His tone is a combination of his panic and anger, which causes him to shout and this scares you. It reminds you too much of your father screaming and you flinch, waiting for a door to slam loudly, but it never comes. You don’t move an inch, you’re frozen in your spot with your heart picking up and mind becoming hazy. Tangerine sees your uneasiness and quickly calms down, the absolute last thing he wants is to scare you and make you feel anxious around him.

“Love, I am sorry for my tone, but there is nothing you can do right now. The doors don’t even open until another ten minutes. So just sit down and relax, please.” Tangerine says in a softer tone, but it does nothing to soothe you. 

“I don’t want to sit down and relax, I need to get home and sleep! And when they fix the doors, how am I going to get back to my stop?” Your frustration combined with your tiredness causes your voice to waver, indicating that you were close to crying. Tangerine sees your watery eyes and he feels his heart hurt.

“Oh, darling, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay, I promise. C’mere.” He very gently wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls you into his body. And you let him and it feels wonderful to be held so tenderly. Despite the rational part of your brain asking you why you’re letting a complete stranger touch you, you ignore it in favor of the warmest arms you’ve ever encountered. At the same time, it feels strange to have arms wrapped around you, you can’t remember the last time anyone has held you this close.

You close your eyes with your cheek resting on his chest, trying so hard to not let the tears fall and taking deep breaths to calm your beating heart. You feel your face heating up with embarrassment at the fact that you were on the verge of crying like a baby and a grown adult who you barely knew was trying to console you. So you try to swallow the lump in your throat and breathe through your mouth so he doesn’t hear you sniffle. Tangerine of course notices you holding back, and is quite impressed with how quiet you’re able to be, but he’s not going to let you continue with this, not anymore. 

You feel a warm hand begin rubbing your back with a firm touch. Up, down, left, right, all around, slowly. You feel another hand stroking the top of your hair, it feels nice. And with his chin resting on the top of your head, you are engulfed and surrounded by Tangerine. All you feel and see and smell is him. Something about the way he’s holding you and making you feel safe makes your tears fall. This is all you ever wanted. 

“That’s okay, I know. You can let it out, it’s no good to hold it all in.” Tangerine whispers into your hair when he hears the first sniffle. He doesn’t stop his hand movements when he feels you shaking in his arms and hears your sobbing, but he does tighten his arms around you.

Your cries and heaving breaths are reduced to sniffles and hiccups. You are suddenly aware of what you have just done, feeling like a nuisance. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. I’m fine, I promise.” You pull away enough to look up at him and find him already staring at you with concern. Tangerine shakes his while gently swiping his thumbs across your cheeks, wiping your tears away. 

“You don’t ever have to apologize for the way you feel. And I can very clearly see you are not okay, and there is nothing wrong with that. Sit down, please, let me get you some water, don’t want you feeling ill, do we?” You shake your head and sit back down, feeling cold and drained. It was strange that not even an hour ago, you were the happiest you had ever been. And now, your eyelids were feeling heavy and like someone had just thrown sand in them.

Tangerine sees that you’re close to falling asleep, he doesn’t think you even know you’re about to fall asleep. He quickly runs to the kitchen for some water, hoping to get you hydrated so you don’t get a headache. As he’s rummaging through the fridge he silently curses himself for buying you all those sugary snacks and drinks, that can’t be settling well in your stomach. But when he returns to you, you are fully leaning against the window and he can hear your snores. 

He doesn’t know what to do next, so he decides to give Lemon a call for some advice. 

-

When you wake up, you don’t feel any better. Your mind immediately goes to the fact that you are probably further away from your stop, and you’re still tired. The urge to close your eyes and go back to sleep is strong, but you sit up and feel something slide off of you. You look down and see that it’s a jacket, the one you saw Tangerine wearing earlier. You then realize that he is nowhere to be seen, but there is a bottle of water on the table that your dry throat is begging for.

While drinking it, you wait for Tangerine to return from wherever he is but he still hasn’t come. Feeling impatient, you get up and start walking up the train. But with every carriage you walk through, there is not a single person you see. There is a slow feeling of panic arising within you, it feels everyone in the world abandoned you and you were the only left. Before you enter the next carriage you hear Tangerine’s voice and you stop, feeling relieved that he was still on the train with you. You’re about to go back to your seat, but you hear him start to talk.

“Is this really my last resort?... Alright, how much do I give her?... The whole bottle? Lemon, are you fuckin’ insane?”

Many thoughts and questions are going through your head right now. Lemon? His brother Lemon? What are they talking about? What is he giving to who? Why does he sound so angry?

“I’ll give her half the amount, I only want her knocked out so I can get her in the car… She’s asleep right now.”

You feel all the air in your lungs disappear, your stomach is in knots, and a fear so deep in your bones that it’s difficult for you to think or move. You can only hear his side of the conversation, and with each sentence he says, the more terrified you become. If you’re hearing this correctly, Tangerine is talking to his brother about drugging someone, who is most likely you, and taking them to his car after. Then doing who knows what. 

“I’ll pour it in her water or something and have her drink it, actually that strawberry soda she likes would be better.”

That was enough to confirm that he’s talking about you. You slowly back away from the door, being careful not to make any noise. When you’re far away enough, you take off to find the closest person who works on the train. 

Your heart beats so fast and hard you feel like it’s going to burst out of your chest, not even hours ago you felt the same way for Tangerine, but it was for different reasons now. You run faster through each carriage, not knowing when Tangerine would get off the phone and continue with his scheme. But you feel relieved when you arrive inside the kitchen and see a woman filling up the cart with more snacks. But she looks horrified to see you.

“Oh, thank god. We need to get off right now. That man I was with is going to kill me, we need to go, please.” You grab her and try to drag her to the nearest door, but she’s shaking her head and looks at you apologetically. 

“Miss, I am very sorry, but I cannot let you leave at this moment-”

“No, you don’t understand, you have to! There’s a man, his name is Tangerine, he’s trying to kidnap me, please help me-” 

“Y/N?” 

Your heart stops when you hear Tangerine’s voice. He’s fast. 

You don’t look back, you continue to stare at the woman in front of you and silently beg for her to stay. She sadly pats your shoulder before turning away and walking out the same door Tangerine came from. 

“Turn around please.” You do as he says, afraid that if you even step a toe out of line, he would pull a knife out and stab you. When you look at him, he doesn’t say anything, he only stares back. But that friendly face you witnessed earlier is gone, instead, a frown is settled on his lips and his eyes are showing dissappointment. You think it’s because of you, but Tangerine is really angry at himself for not putting a careful eye on you. He took his eye off of you for a second, more like an hour actually, and his plan has gone to shit.

“Y/N, I’m not sure exactly what you heard-”

“You were going to hurt me.” You whisper, mentally hitting yourself for interrupting him. You have no idea what he’s capable of, but if he has access to drugs that could “knock” you out for a few hours, then surely he has some sort of weapon on him. 

“Not too much. Just enough to… leave you unconscious for a bit. I wasn’t going to do anything too crazy.” 

“You think drugging someone without their consent isn’t ‘too crazy’?” You say this with just a smidge of anger and disbelief. You truly cannot believe what you are hearing. He’s fucking insane if he thinks what he was going to do isn’t extremely violating and fucked up.

“I really don’t appreciate that tone, love.” He says with irritation. And you’re back to being absolutely disturbed, that tiny amount of bravery is gone. He takes one step towards you.

“Tangerine, you’re scaring me.” You whisper while backing away slowly from him, afraid that if you went any faster he’ll pounce on you. While stepping back, you hit one of the carts that had the snack and drinks, and you grip it with tight fingers behind you. 

“Love, that’s not my intention. I just want to be with you, that’s all.” Tangerine’s irritation is gone and he says this as gently as possible so as to not scare you, but the quick mood switch only increases it more. You're appalled at his honesty and bluntness, he isn’t even going to try and give a bullshit lie explaining what you heard.

“I don’t even know you, please let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone, please.” Your voice wavers in fear and the image of him becomes blurry with your tears, cracking Tangerine’s heart

“I just want to take care of you-” He takes a big step toward you and you quickly bring the cart in front of you and, with all your strength, shove it towards him. Genuinely surprised by your actions and sudden strength, Tangerine stumbles back and watches you sprint out the other door. He looks at the clock and realizes it’s exactly 11 o’clock, all the doors in carriage fourteen are open. 

You can't remember a time where you had run this fast in your life, everything in your peripheral was a blur. You’re slowed down each time you stop at each door, trying to open them then banging your fist on it in anger when it stays closed. Your thoughts go to Tangerine only getting closer, and this makes you run just a bit faster.

You cannot believe the turn of events. All of your infatuation and feelings for Tangerine were gone in an instant when you heard his plans to drug and abduct you. They were replaced with disbelief and terror. You also feel incredibly stupid, you fell for his charm and they way he made you feel special and cared for. You even let the man touch you and hug you. Now knowing he only did that as a way to make you feel comfortable enough to catch you off guard and snatch you makes you feel sick to your stomach. It’s such an uncomfortable feeling. You’re really about to vomit, your whole body is shaking, you’re lightheaded and can’t think straight. 

“Shit.” You whisper when you’re in the second to last carriage. You doubt that the last pair of doors will open, which means that you were screwed if these ones didn’t open. You never prayed before, but this time you do as you ran to the doors and hope to god that they open. You barely stepped in front of them and the doors slid open. You felt a huge portion of worry lift off of you in exchange for relief, but you weren’t done yet. You step out of the bullet train and the first thing you see are two security guards

When you run up to them, they look startled. You think it’s because of the way you look, all out of breath and panicked.

“Please help me, t-there's someone on there trying to hurt me. I h-heard him say he’s-”

“Miss, you can’t get off the train at this moment, please get back on.” One of them says and tries to lead you back on. 

“What? No, there’s a man on there that tried to hurt me-”

“Yes, and I understand, but you need to get back on.” The other one says.

“You understand? What the- no, you’re not listening to me- hey, what are you doing, stop!” Their hands are suddenly around your upper arms and they begin dragging you towards the train. You feel another wave of panic and confusion hit you at the same time, and the tears come back. 

“No, no, no, let go of me! Stop! Help!” You scream and chant so loud that your throat hurts. You dig your feet into the floor as hard as you can and thrash around in their grip, this catches them off guard and you manage to escape, but only for a few seconds before they catch you again. Their hands around your arms is reminiscent of the two cooks that you worked with and you would much rather be with them right now. 

When they have you in front of the train they still have you in their hands before you find yourself on the floor. Inside the bullet train. You feel a familiar pain in your knees along with some sort of liquid, you look down and see blood. You begin crying in pain, but you stand up on wobbly legs and try to escape one last time, but you're once again on the floor when they push you back in. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been laying on the floor, but long enough to know that the doors have closed and won’t be opening soon. Then you hear the door to the carriage open, along with the sight of two shoes. 

This is it. This is how I’m going to die. 

“Oh, darling.” Tangerine sees your bloody knees and makes a mental note to “talk” with the two guards that did this to you. He kneels down beside you, making you flinch. Tangerine ignores your action and takes a closer look at your knee, that’s when he remembers your bruised skin. You’re probably still healing from your bruises and those two guards made it worse. 

“C’mon, let’s get you up now.” Tangerine places one arm under your knees and the other under your back and lifts you up. This quick action surprises you and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck so you don’t fall. Being so close to him makes you nauseous again, along with the copious amount of sugar you consumed and the running you did. You can feel your stomach turning and bile making its way up your throat. You start to cry again when you realize you are about to throw up.

Tangerine looks at you and very clearly sees how sick you look. He quickly takes you to the bathroom, places you on the floor, and lifts up the toilet seat. But you shake your head and lean away, you are absolutely terrified of throwing up. The thought of the contents in your stomach shooting back up in a hot, gross substance makes you gag again.

“I know you don’t feel good right now, but you’ll feel much better after, I promise.” Tangerine puts one hand on your back and pats it, while the other hand gently gathers your hair in a loose ponytail. His heartbreak when he sees your endless tears dripping down your face and hears your sobbing, it reminds him too much of when you would cry alone in your apartment. Only this time he’s here with you. And as much as it pains him to do this, he wants you to feel better. So he starts patting your back harder, starting from the bottom to the top. 

You try to squirm away but he has a stiff hold on you. Then you moan in pain when you feel your stomach churning, it feels like it’s literally twisting inside your body. With Tangerine patting your back, you feel the contents shoot up your throat and you squeeze your eyes shut as it ends up in the toilet. You aren’t exactly sure what happens after that, only that Tangerine somehow got you in a private room on the train and you’re still crying.

“It’s done now, you’re all done now, love. You did a great job, I know that hurt.” It really shouldn’t, but the way he speaks to you calms you down and reduces your sobs to small sniffles. But there’s still a fear of the unknown of what he’ll do to you. You then become completely aware of your surroundings and find Tangerine with a damp towel in his hand and a first aid kit next to him. And he’s kneeling on the ground.

“May I?” He gestures to your injured knees. You might as well let him clean your wound, he’s got you trapped anyways and you’re sure if you try to escape again you won’t make it very far. You nod at him and look away. Tangerine carefully rolls up the bottom of your pants above your knees, quietly apologizing when you whimper when the fabric brushes against your cuts. 

The complete silence kills you. You don’t know what to say. But you’re extremely confused and still trying to process the last two or three hours, or four hours. You have no idea what time it is.

You first meet Tangerine, and it’s nice and all, but too good to be true. You find out that the whole time, he was planning to kidnap you. You thought he would have killed you by now or done something else horrific, like sell you to a group of human traffickers. Instead, he’s on his knees in front of you, wiping the blood off your knees and bandaging them up with soft touches. 

“Thank you for sitting still, did wonderfully.” He carefully pulls back down the bottom of your pants and puts your shoes on. You didn’t even realize he took off your shoes. And again, you definitely should not be feeling this way, but he’s being so gentle with you that it makes it hard to breathe. You want to kick yourself for feeling this way about a man that wanted to drug and take you away.

You watch his every move as he gets back up and walks to the bar, ready to take any harm he gives you. But he gets a bottle of water out of the fridge, opens it, and places it on the table in front of you. While you thought this was cute and gentlemanlike hours ago, you now know his true intentions and don’t want anything from him.

Even though your throat is burning and there’s a lingering taste of vomit in your mouth. 

“Drink it, Y/N.” 

You say nothing and look away, hoping that he’ll go away and never show his face again, or  maybe the ground of the train will swallow you whole. That would be lovely. You hear Tangerine let out a frustrated sigh and you prepare for a smack or something physical. 

“Y/N, please don’t make me ask you again. I understand you’re exhausted and have a ton of questions, but you’re not going back home. You’re coming with me and staying with me from now on. So just accept that and drink your water… please.” Despite Tangerine’s obvious frustration over the matter, his plan hadn’t gone his way, he completely understands where you are coming from. He knows what he’s doing and what he’s done is fucked up and deranged, but he couldn’t help himself. He knew if he ignored the urge then he definitely would have grabbed you off the street or dragged you out of your apartment into the trunk of his car. 

And you do not deserve that. He wanted to ease you into his life, lure you in slowly and nicely, then pull the string and trap you in his cage. He wants to show you the wonderful and loving life he can give you, how much he can truly care for you. But with the whole door situation in carriage fourteen and you trying to leave, it’s all a mess now.

When he says this to you, you want to be angry and call him obscene names and ask him what gives him the right to take you like you're an object. But you are not that person, you were never that person to show your anger in a truly furious way. What you do when you become this emotional is cry, but with all the tears you’ve let out today, there is no more. You’re drained. And all the fight in you is gone.

You grab the water and drink from it. The cold liquid feels like heaven when going past your dry throat.

“You should sleep now, you’ve probably tired yourself out.” Tangerine says softly. You nod your head in complete defeat and close your eyes, hoping all of this was a nightmare and you’ll wake up on your old mattress in your tiny apartment. But you knew what had just happened was real.

The only thing you can truly wish for is that whatever he has planned for you, he doesn’t cause too much harm.

—-

What was your favorite part and what are you excited for in the next chapter??? Again, your comments really motivate me to keep writing!!🥰

#tangerine #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine x reader #tangerine imagine #tangerine x fem!reader #bullet train #bullet train imagine

[mazeinthemiroh]

hnnnn in my soft era so could i perhaps request a skz reaction to you prepping a whole self care day for them 🥺 like face masks massages everything cuz i love them

stray kids reactions to their s/o preparing a self-care day

genre: fluff

word count: 0.8k

warnings: extremely fluffy

please like and reblog if you enjoy :D

bangchan

if there's anyone more deserving of a self-care day, it's bang christopher chan. he's a workaholic, it's in his nature. it's admirable but you want him to have some time for himself. so when he finally has some time off for some quality time with you, you've got a whole pamper session planned out. face masks, delicious food, and pop on a feel-good movie. if you ask him though, his favourite way to relax is by cuddling and/or making out with you. depends on his mood but it's cute either way. it's always a self-care session just by being with you, you don't even have to do anything special for him ;-;

lee know

minho is into skincare routines and eagerly wants to be that couple who do it on each other. he mainly wants to see you with one of those fluff hairbands on because he says you look adorable. he will take lots of selfies of you both with them on because he's cute like that. when it comes to actually applying the products to your face, he's not going easy on you. can be quite brutal and also starts laughing at you because he makes your face look all strange with a mixture of products on #donttrusthim #menacetosociety

changbin

changbin will marry you on the spot if you suggest giving him a massage. he goes to the gym every day and works hard on his body. massages are always appropriate and always needed. he will literally melt if you ask him if you can massage his back and he will make happy binnie noises and have that cute smile on his face awww. just the whole routine of it, especially if you use proper massage oil, makes him feel so relaxed and refreshed. he will also return the favour and want to massage you too he's really good with his hands

hyunjin

hyunjin is all heart eyes when you reveal to him you planned a self-care day for the both of you. sheet face masks: on. sad, emotional romance films: on. tissues: ready. let's go. yes, hyunjin likes to spend his self-care day with you by indulging in his emotions and crying over fictional characters. he has you watching the notebook or me before you idk something to make you both bawl. it's so fun, 100% recommend. he's got a cute little candle lit and he's holding you close for comfort. it feels very... hyunjin in there, that's for sure.

han

hannie just wants to laze around and do nothing. that's his self-care day. because he's always doing something. it's very rare that he actually gets a mental break from things. cuddles are very important to him so he might pop on an anime or a cute little movie whilst being snuggled up in your arms. will 9 out of 10 times fall asleep like that. he's just so comfy and relaxed and your comforting presence creates the perfect mood for sleepy time. you both fall asleep with each other :( it's an adorable sight.

felix

this fluffy boy is having the best time of his life. he has so many ideas for a self-care day that he actually doesn't know what to do first. fluffy blankets and plushies are obligatory. felix wants to binge-watch a load of comfort movies, mostly disney and marvel, you get the idea. he just wants to snuggle up with you and be near you. you both will talk through all the movies and make fun of everything that's happening. for the sadder moments, of course, the laughter will stop and you both will hold each other, holding back tears.

seungmin

seungmin's idea of a self-care day consists of you, a good book and an unlimited supply of tasty snacks. you knew this, and so preparing a pamper day would be a piece of cake! just laying back with a cup of coffee, you leaning on his shoulder, reading the latest best-seller; he can't imagine being more at ease with life than he is now. it warms his heart that you wanted to day a self-care day with him. he will shyly thank you and shower you with extra love because he really appreciates your efforts.

jeongin

i really do see jeongin going out in his pyjamas to the grocery store in order to get some snacks for your self-care day. only if you come with him, of course. he's so excited when you mention the idea to him. he feels like it's been a long since he's spent one-on-one time with you. being busy with promotions for their latest comeback and whatnot, he loves to take any opportunity he can to chill out with you. this man is really into marvel so a marvel marathon is not too much of a shock. you guys don't go to sleep until the very early hours of the morning.

#stray kids #skz #kpop #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids reactions #skz reactions #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop x reader #fluff #jeongin #seungmin #felix #han #changbin #hyunjin #lee minho #bangchan #bang chan #chan #seo changbin #lee felix

[silver-vanrouge]

I saw a tiktok created by @dust_hollow (go watch the videos there obvious what their about) talking about his theories on what Lilia’s inspired by and I was up all night thinking about what he said. Dust spoke about how he’s not just inspired by the three good faeries but the lilac faerie from Mathew Borne’s “sleeping beauty, a gothic romance.” It makes complete sense after I watched the ballet because… well I’m not going to spoil it for you,

and the three good faeries are the resemblance of the Lilac faerie in the original ballet (in the sense of them both changing the curse from death to sleep) or so I assume. Not only that but after reading “Mistress of all Evil” by Sarina Valentine, I noticed he was like Nanny to Malleus in the sense of calming him down and taking care of him as a baby dragon, like how Nanny in the book raises Maleficent like her own daughter even though shes only found Maleficent with her ravens which brings me to my next point.

I believe he’s based off of Diavel (not specifically Diablo from the cartoon Sleeping Beauty) From the movie Maleficent. And no Diablo and Diavel aren’t the same characters and I’m not arguing with anyone about this I don’t care. I believe Lilia is based off of Diavel from the live action because of the way he treats Malleus, he’s kinda like a father more than anything but I whole heartedly believe if Malleus (or his mother I’ll get there later) asks then he shall receive. He’s inspired by the goons as-well, along with Sebek and his grandfather. Lilia is often frightened by Melenors temper and even gets hit by her lightning (lovingly) at some point! And he knows Malleus most likely has her temper as well. When it comes to trying to figure out what he’s based off of I believe it’s a whole mixture of things.

#twisted wonderland #twst #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #twst silver #twst diasomnia #malleus draconia #Mathew Bornes sleeping beauty #Cuddly crocodiles and soft pillows #twst theory

[sora-art-513]

Ah! It’s a SpiderSona or Oc?? It’s a Mixture of Both lol 👀✨ : Hey guys! So Today Let me introduce you to My SpiderSona/Oc🤔 Shannon Minerva also known as The Spider-Lynx!💚 I’m still Fan of Spider-man Way before the Spider-Man movies came out and Once Again I’m falling into the Spiderfandom lol😆 Since Across the Spiderverse movie 2 is coming up, which I am so Excited to see! So I thought of Drawing her in a Good comic book cover issue for the first time but I’m just really Glad I got to draw her in Full Color, it was fun designing her(inspirations for the Designs, Spider-Gwen and Female Doc Ock and Miguel O’Hara, Green Huntsman Spider💚 and Green jumping Lynx spider🕸️ Here’s the rest of the info about her👆🏼), and I also wanted to show you guys about My Concept of her, Hope you guys like my Design☺️🙌🏼✨

#spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spidersona #spideroc #into the spider verse #spiderman #spider woman #oc #myoc #OC stuff #original character #persona #design #digital #digital artwork #digital drawing #digital art #Digital Illustration #character design #drawing #artwork #my art

[bihinnyshipper]

“Mum, dad? Can I talk for a second?” Albus Potter stood in the doorway of his parent’s bedroom. Ginny looked up from her book and smiled at her son. 

“Of course, Al.” She patted the bed in front of her. “What’s up?” 

Albus took a deep breath, sitting precariously on the edge of his parent’s oversized bed. His father had joined his mother sitting up, and now both sets of eyes were watching their son’s every move. “I don’t really know how to say it.” 

“Take your time.” Ginny shifted, glancing at her husband. 

A minute of silence and the teen spoke again. “You know Scorpius?” 

“Malfoy,” it wasn’t a question, but Albus nodded in response to his father’s statement. 

“Malfoy.” He confirmed. “He and I… Well, we aren’t just friends.” Harry and Ginny shared a glance. Albus couldn’t tell if it was amusement, surprise, confusion, or disgust. Maybe a mixture. 

“We know.” Harry spoke up. Ginny nudged him. 

“How?” Albus didn’t really know what he was expecting from his parents. He thought maybe they would have gotten mad, maybe screamed at him. His father may have been even more ashamed of having him as a son. Maybe they would have told him he didn’t know what he was feeling. Either way, the one thing the teen hadn’t expected was that they knew. 

“We may be old, but we’re not blind, Al.” His mother laughed. “We’ve seen the way you two look at each other. Your dad and I were young once, believe it or not. We know the signs.” Albus tried not to think about his mum thinking about his dad the way Albus thought about Scorpius.

“How close have you two gotten?” Harry entered back into the conversation.  

Albus turned Weasley red. “Why are you asking about my sex life, dad?” Harry was speechless.  

Ginny burst out laughing, while Harry turned almost as red as his son. “I don’t think he meant to. Your father was asking whether you just have a crush on him or if you’re dating.” 

“We’re dating.” Albus’ confidence returned to him. “Have been for about eight months.” Ginny and Harry exchanged another smirk, seeing the look on their son’s face as he talked about his boyfriend. 

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” 

“I didn’t know how you would react. Dating Scorpius is taboo.”  His parents looked confused, so he continued. “For one, Scorpius is a guy. I didn’t know how you would react to that. Also, he’s a Malfoy.” 

“Oh, honey. Scorpius being a Malfoy doesn’t matter. Your father is perfectly civil with Draco. As long as Scorpius makes you happy, we’re happy.” Ginny kicked her husband lightly under the blanket, prompting him to agree with her. 

Harry gritted his teeth. “Of course, that’s all that matters.” He got more comfortable. “As for him being a bloke, I really don’t have any room to tell you off in that category.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, exchanging another look with his wife. He had been wanting to tell his children for some time, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. 

Albus’ eyes grew wide as realization dawned on him. “You don’t mean… you’re gay?” 

“Bi.” Harry corrected him. “I’m married to, and very much in love with, a witch, if you haven’t noticed. But no, I’m not straight.” 

Seemingly having forgotten all about his situation, Albus pried his father for information. “Have you ever dated a bloke?” Harry shook his head. “So then, how do you know?” 

“How did you know, before Scorpius?” Figuring he was too far gone to keep anything from his son, Harry responded honestly. “I’ve kissed guys and had crushes.” 

“Who have you kissed?” Albus looked like he was in the middle of watching the best movie he’d ever seen. 

“That’s on a need to know basis, actually.” 

“Come on, dad. I won’t judge.” He pleaded, his voice coming dangerously close to whining. “At least tell me if it’s someone I know. Do you know, mum?” He directed his efforts to Ginny. 

“Of course I do.” 

“Please tell me!” 

“Can’t do that.” Ginny smirked. 

“Why not!” The fourteen-year-old Potter fell dramatically onto his parent’s bed. 

Albus’ show and his parent’s laughter attracted the attention of his siblings. 

“What’s going on?” James came around the corner, toweling his messy hair after a shower. Lily wasn’t far behind. 

Albus smirked. Even after all these years, Harry was putty in Lily’s hands. Albus knew he, or more likely Lily, could worm the answers he wanted out of his father now. “Dad likes blokes.” 

“Ah, finally fessed up, did you, dad?” 

“It wasn’t some well-protected secret,” Harry began before his youngest son cut him off. 

“Wait - you knew? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I figured it out on my own about two years ago. Despite being the resident straight of the family, I pride myself on my ability to detect when other people aren’t. Dad’s been unknowingly out to me since fourth year.” James smirked at his father’s raised eyebrow. “Though I will hand it to you, Al, dad was a lot harder to catch onto than mum. I had her labeled by the time I turned thirteen.” 

Ginny cleared her throat, sharing yet another look with her husband. “‘Labeled’ as what, exactly?” She opened her arms and Lily snuggled up next to her. 

“If you weren’t sickeningly in love with dad, I’d say you’d be married to a girl for sure.”

“You’re right,” Ginny answered. “I’m not straight, and if you must know, I do have a preference for women, but that doesn’t mean it’s your place to say that. And I wouldn’t trade my life and your dad for anything.” 

James just shrugged. 

“The point, Al” Harry cleared his throat, “Is that your mum and I love you and will love whoever you love, even if they are a Malfoy.” 

Albus rolled his eyes. “Okay, dad. But don’t think you’re getting away without telling me who you’ve kissed.” 

“Dad’s only kissed mum, Alby!” Lily chimed in from between her parents. 

Laughter erupted from the rest of the family as Harry kissed the top of his daughter’s head and then leaned over to kiss his wife, much to the protest of his sons.

#harry x ginny #harry potter #ginny weasley #albus potter #albus x scorpius #james sirius potter #lily luna potter #harry and ginny are bi #the potters are such a gay family #hp fluff #fluff #coming out #lgbtq #bi #gay #missing moments #hinny #after the war #next gen harry potter

[kittenofdoomage]

Midnight

Summary: New Year’s Eve brings a surprise at the end of a crappy year.

Pairing: female!reader (Y/N) x unnamed male

Word Count: 3610

Warnings: angst, mentions of break ups of long term relationships, anxiety, fluff, masked dances, semi-public smut, some mild breaking and entering, fingering, full vaginal sex, some mild feelings of unhappiness

A/N: This is another one of those "pick your character" fics that I can't really post on Ao3, so I'm posting here to wish you all a very happy new year. I hope everyone has a peaceful and blessed 2024, and that the fall of the patriarchy/death of capitalism finally comes to fruition. Enjoy!

Originally, her plan for New Year’s Eve had involved a family-size bag of Doritos and whatever movies she could find on Netflix. She had no work for the next week, no boyfriend since Andrew had dumped her in the summer, and when Dee had surprised her with a ticket to the annual city New Year’s Masquerade Ball, she had ultimately failed to provide an excuse good enough to turn it down. 

“All of us are going,” Dee had informed her excitedly, making sure Y/N had no wiggle room. “I’ll help you find a dress, we’ve got a huge car booked -”

“Okay, okay,” Y/N smiled, internally dying at the thought of an evening around strangers, even ones in masks. “I’m in.”

Maybe it would do her some good. Since the end of her relationship, she’d been unable to summon enthusiasm for anything, and she had to admit, shopping for a dress and giggling over imagined possible events at the ball with her friends was more fun than she had had in a while. She hadn’t realized just how stale her life had become, even before Andrew broke up with her.

The downside to the evening presented itself with the understanding that she would very much be the proverbial fifth wheel. Dee and Jenny both had dates for the night in the form of their long term partners, David and Leanne, respectively. Still, they assured her that they wouldn’t ignore her in favor of their company - Leanne had even offered up a blind date, but Y/N quickly turned her down, politely, because although she didn’t want to seem ungrateful, she didn’t think it would make her evening any more enjoyable. It would probably have had the opposite effect.

New Year’s Eve rolled around faster than she wanted it to, despite her excitement for the party. She started preparing ridiculously early, and by the time her cab arrived to take her to Dee’s, she was trembling with nerves. Her friends didn’t make it any better when she got there, chatting excitedly, making her feel like she’d be wallpaper the entire night. Still, she smiled and nodded along, following quietly when the car arrived to take them to the hotel downtown.

The Masquerade Ball was held in the same place every year. It wasn’t exclusive, but it was limited, another reason Y/N had been reluctant to turn down the ticket. They arrived in plenty of time to join the queue, and the chilly evening had her wishing she’d brought more than her light jacket. She shuddered in silence, keeping up with Dee as they shuffled closer to their destination, feeling more and more underdressed in her simple unembellished evening gown as she took in the stunning dresses and tuxedos everyone else was wearing. Of course, she couldn’t see anyone's faces, which made it marginally better, but she still felt underwhelming in comparison.

They made it inside within thirty minutes, accepting direction to their table in the grand ballroom several floors up. It was busy, and loud, and the dancefloor was already bustling with bodies grinding together to the late nineties pop tune that was currently playing. The ticket had stated a mixture of classical and popular music, with opportunities for “proper” dancing. Around the room there were several booths, the capitalist side of the event, and as the group seated themselves at the table, Jenny grabbed Y/N’s hand and pointed toward one booth at the back of the room.

“Look, they’re doing the Dance Card stall this year!”

Y/N scrunched up her face. “What’s that?”

“It’s like a game, people can sign up and get matched with a dance partner for a song. You can do it as many times as you like.”

“So it’s like Speed Dating?” Leanne asked, pulling a similar face to Y/N.

“I don’t think so,” Y/N giggled, shaking her head at the thought of getting up close and personal with a stranger. “I just wanna enjoy the party.”

Dee leaned into her, smiling. “I’ll dance with you, baby girl, don’t worry.”

The ballroom was filling quickly, and for the first part of the evening, Y/N stayed with the group, chatting over the music and drinking. Occasionally, Leanne would drag Jenny off to dance, or Dee would make David, but they never left her alone, something she was grateful for. She shared a dance with Dee, but quickly found the crowd overwhelming, so she remained at the table while the others took turns in dancing.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna try the dance card thing?” Jenny asked, leaning in as Dee pulled her boyfriend from the table. “Just once?”

Y/N looked over at the booth again, ready to deny it, then her gaze caught on one figure that seemed to stand out from the crowd. He was standing off to the side of the booth, leaning against the wall, a full glass in one hand with the other in his pocket, and she was certain he was looking right back at her. There was something familiar about him, not that there was anything extraordinary that would have made him stand out in the first place. The tuxedo he wore was the same as a dozen others she’d seen, and he was wearing the standard mask they were handing out on the door for those who forgot or didn’t have one.

“Oh my god, you’re thinking about it,” Jenny giggled, touching her forearm and bringing her attention back to the table. When she looked over at the booth again, the man was gone, and disappointment settled into her stomach.

“I’m not,” she assured her friend. “I thought - nevermind.”

Her mind was already wandering as Leanne distracted her girlfriend from badgering her. It couldn’t have been him, even if her gut was telling her it was. He wouldn’t be in the city, let alone at the same party she was at, it was impossible. The one that got away had gone away permanently, a long time before Andrew was even a blip on her radar, and it was just wistful thinking making some random stranger look like him.

Dee returned, breathless from her dance, though David didn’t return with her. “He’s getting more drinks,” she explained as Jenny asked where he went. The two other women took their turn to go and dance, and Y/N drew back into herself a little, realizing they were spending their time keeping her company when they should have been enjoying themselves.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly, looking at Dee, who blinked in confusion.

“For what?”

“You’re -” Y/N gestured wildly. “Looking after me, like usual. I’m a buzzkill.”

Her friend laughed. “Honey, do I look like my buzz has been killed? I can’t dance to every single song anyways, I’m not seventeen anymore.”

“You’re sure?”

Sighing, Dee leaned in, covering Y/N’s hand with her own. “You need this,” she insisted. “Since Douchebag McDouche left you - yahoo, by the way - you’ve been in a slump. And I hate seeing you miserable.”

“I know,” Y/N mumbled, sagging in her seat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get so… boring.”

“You’re not boring,” Dee replied, squeezing your hand. “You just need to rediscover yourself a little.” She picked up her almost empty drink, draining the last of it. “You could always try the dance card thing. Maybe you’ll find someone to kiss at midnight. Even if it’s just for midnight.”

The idea was less than appealing but Y/N looked in that direction anyway, just in case the mystery man was there again. When he wasn’t, and she sighed, Dee frowned.

“Not up for it?”

“It’s not that,” Y/N murmured, wary of their companions returning. “Do you remember after college, there was that guy -”

“I got fresh drinks for everyone!” David announced, arriving back at the table with a tray in his hands. Instantly, Y/N fell silent, and Dee quickly realized she wouldn’t be getting anything more out of her. “Another rum, Y/N?” David asked, handing her a drink regardless of her answer.

She got to her feet with a forced smile. “Actually, I’m going to find the ladies room,” she informed both of them, stepping away and waving off Dee’s almost immediate offer to join her. The crowd wasn’t as dense as it looked, and she easily found her way to the lobby, following the posted signs for the restrooms. There was a queue that she quickly joined, pulling her phone from her purse, scrolling through her Twitter feed to pass the time.

Someone across the lobby yelled, which made everyone look that way to see a gentleman being forcefully exited by security. Y/N watched along with them, and as the scene died down, she went to turn her attention back to her phone, only to see him again. This time he was at the other side of the lobby, standing with a group of people, and when he caught her eye, he smiled, raising his drink a little in her direction. She froze in surprise, staring back, and it took the woman behind her in the queue jostling her to get her to look away.

He was gone again when she glanced back, but the queue was moving too quickly for her to do anything. Her heart was in her throat as she rushed to be done in the restroom, scanning the crowd the second that she was out in the lobby again, finding the group he was with gone and him with them. It was stupid how disappointed she was, when she wasn’t even sure if it was who she thought it was or even if it was the same person.

For all she knew, she was going crazy.

“Idiot,” she muttered to herself, heading back into the ballroom to find the table again. None of her friends were there, all busy on the dancefloor, and her stomach dropped, anxiety rushing in at her. “What am I doing?” she whispered, certain she was going to cry.

“You look a little lost,” said a man from behind her, in a voice she recognized even after all this time.

“Yes, well,” she replied, keeping her gaze on the dancefloor in case she was imagining him. “These things are more for couples, aren’t they?”

He laughed, and her insides churned with a need to see his face, to make sure it was really him, because she felt like it was a dream. She still remembered the last time she’d seen him, just the back of his head as he left, taking her whole heart with him even if he didn’t know it. “I suppose so,” he agreed, and a hand brushed the small of her back, making her inhale sharply. “Would you like to dance?”

Why was he here? How? What was happening?

She nodded, holding her questions in as he took her hand to lead her to the dancefloor, just as a slower classical number came on. Finally, she turned her head, disappointed that the mask covered his face, but recognizing his features underneath. Her heart soared, nerves gathering as butterflies in her stomach, and she couldn’t help but smile through her mask at him. He smiled back, pulling her closer as they reached a spot with enough room not to feel cramped.

Neither of them spoke. Her desire to know where he had been, why he was there, was held at bay by the simple comfort of just being in his arms. He was still fond of the same aftershave by the scent clinging to his clothes, and his hair was slightly different, but otherwise he was exactly as she remembered, and she couldn’t help leaning in to rest her cheek against his shoulder as they moved slowly to the music. Across the dancefloor, she met Dee’s confused gaze from where she was dancing with David, recognizable by her hair, and Y/N smiled at her so she knew everything was okay.

“You look just as beautiful as the last time I saw you,” he murmured, making her lift her head to look at him. “Can’t believe it’s been so long.”

“How can you tell that I look the same?” she asked playfully. “I’m wearing a mask.”

He chuckled. “I just know,” he shrugged, smirking at her.

“You’re still just as big,” she said shyly. “Your hair is different.” The music picked up speed a little, transitioning to a faster beat, and Y/N frowned as couples around them started to get a little showy with their movements. “I don’t think I like this song,” she joked.

“Let’s go somewhere quieter,” he agreed, stepping back and taking her hand again.

As they moved through the crowd, they passed Dee, who stared at the man with her in shock, recognizing him, and mouthing a “is that who I think it is” while pointing at him. Y/N nodded, not stopping to explain as he led her into the lobby and towards a fire exit. “Wait,” she hissed, “where are we going? It’s gonna be midnight soon.”

He glanced back with a grin. “Don’t worry,” he assured her. “No one’s up there.”

The there he was referring to escaped her, but she had always trusted him, and she had no reason not to now. With a nod, she followed him through the fire exit, into the stairwell and away from the noise. He started to climb the steps, looking back to make sure she was with him, and on the next floor, they entered a larger, empty room that was only lit by a few lamps.

“What is this place?” she asked.

“A lounge,” he replied. “There’s a balcony we can watch the fireworks from.”

“Won’t someone catch us?”

His eyes sparkled behind the mask. “Only if we’re not quiet.”

The balcony was separated from the room by large doors that weren’t locked. Y/N followed him out into the night, feeling her breath get snatched away by the view of the city. There was a balcony on the ballroom floor too, and she could hear the music below and the chattering of people on the balcony. She pulled away from him to approach the stone ledge, unsure she’d ever seen anywhere look so pretty.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

He was behind her, one hand on her hip as he pressed into her, burying his nose in her hair. “Isn’t it?” he mumbled, though she wasn’t sure they were talking about the same thing.

“You’re really here,” she turned to look up at him, “after all these years, you came back.”

“It would have been sooner. But… things happened. And when I came back to see you, you always seemed happy with someone. I didn’t want to take that away from you.”

Guilt made her insides churn because she hadn’t been, not really. Enough to fool herself, enough to hurt herself, maybe, but she’d always known what had slipped through her fingers. “And now? How did you know I’d be here?”

His cheeks darkened. “Dee posted a picture of you guys getting ready,” he explained, a little sheepishly. “I pulled some strings. This is not actually my tux.”

“You know,” she whispered, “I had a pretty crappy year.”

“Me too.”

Lifting a hand, she pressed it to his cheek. He leaned into it, covering her hand with his own. “I never thought I’d see you again. This feels like a dream.”

“It’s not,” he replied softly. “Lemme prove it.”

She wasn’t quite expecting him to kiss her but after the split second of shock, she melted into it, wrapping her arms around his neck as his tongue slipped between her lips. The action made her moan, and he groaned in reply, clutching at her like she might disappear. When they broke apart, she felt almost high, unable to stop herself from smiling.

“We never had a chance to do that before,” she gasped breathlessly. His fingers were digging into her hips, pulling her body flush with his, and she could feel his erection through the fabric of his pants. Her body reacted with a rush of warmth between her thighs, and before she could stop herself, a lustful whine tore itself from her lips.

His gaze grew hungrier. “There’s a lot of things we never had a chance to do,” he practically growled, voice so low that she shuddered in his hold.

“There’s no one here,” she said abruptly, surprised at her own words.

Her dress was already bunching in his hands as he tugged it up. “Tell me to stop,” he grunted as he pulled the fabric higher, pressing his mouth to hers in a desperate, quick kiss. “Tell me to stop and I can wait, I promise -”

She stopped him with a deeper kiss, rubbing her hand against the bulge in his pants. “I can’t,” she whimpered.

He turned her, pulling her back against him. “You’re so beautiful,” he hummed, pulling her dress up again until it was bunched over her ass, pinning it there with his body. Sliding a hand underneath the fabric still covering her front, he rubbed his fingertips over her mound, pressing his lips to her throat. “Are you wet?”

Her answer wouldn’t come out as she struggled to process what was happening. He chuckled, working his fingers underneath the waistband of her panties, finding the answer himself when he stroked her slit. She moaned, throwing her head back against his shoulder, rubbing herself into his erection.

Two thick fingers spread her open, sinking into her with ease, and she yelped, lurching forward. The roar of the party below became clearer as she caught herself on the balcony edge. “Someone could hear,” she panted, unable to stop her hips from rocking into the same rhythm as his fingers. “They’re right below us -”

“Guess you’ll have to try and be quiet,” he replied with a low chuckle. “The fireworks will be starting soon.”

She nodded, gasping as the heel of his palm ground into her clit, thick fingers still thrusting inside her. His lips brushed the shell of her ear, and a breathy groan made her shudder and push back against him. The consistent stimulation was making her head swim; her eyes fluttered shut and her hands tightened on the stone balcony.

“Are you going to cum?” he asked. She whimpered, nodding when she couldn’t make herself speak, and he laughed again, working his fingers a little harder until the tremble that had started in her knees seized her whole body. Her cunt clenched around the intrusion, the sound of her wetness reaching her over the party noises below them, and finally, she cried out once, covering her own mouth as she shuddered around him.

His hand withdrew, leaving her bereft. She gulped down air in her brief reprieve, then inhaled sharply as his hot and heavy cock landed against her exposed bottom. He didn’t wait, thumbing the tip down until it slotted between her thighs, rubbing right against her sensitive labia. The hunger for more returned, and she tilted her hips, allowing his thick head to find its target, and she arched as each inch filled her until she could feel the soft fabric of his pants pressed against her ass. Only when he was fully sheathed did he stop, dropping his lips to the bare curve of her shoulder with a tiny, contented sigh.

“Only ever dreamed of this,” he whispered, grinding deep inside her. “Feeling you wrapped around me -” He sighed again, the same happy little noise. “Fuck -”

She whimpered his name when he pulled back to sink home again with his hands grasping her hips tightly. His height forced her to lift slightly, but he quickly bent his knees, enabling him to drive into her a little harder, forcing a squeak from her lips when he bottomed out again.

“Listen,” he grunted, leaning in close, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. Below them, the crowd was chanting, and it sounded like the whole city was too. Her lover started to count with them, slamming into her hard enough to punch the air from her lungs with every number. “Seven, six, five -”

Her pussy clenched around him, and as the countdown drew to an end, she cried out, letting the sound be drowned out by the sudden burst of fireworks that lit up the night sky. She pushed back into him as she came, and his pace quickened, his own climax filling her hot and thick as the party music struck up again from the floor below.

A pleasurable buzz left her dizzy and she clutched the balcony, letting her blurry gaze linger on the city underneath. The sensation of his withdrawal made her hum happily, and when he pulled her to her feet, she stumbled right into his arms and his kiss. His lips left her dizzier than before, and she gave him a dopey smile as he chuckled and cupped her cheek.

“Happy New Year.”

She leaned into his touch. “Happy New Year.”

“Your friends will be wondering where you are,” he murmured.

“Let them wonder,” she replied, almost drunk on him, clinging to the front of his tuxedo. “What now?”

He inhaled deeply, wrapping his arms around her. “Well, I was hoping to take you home,” he said quietly, lips twitching with a smile.

“And tomorrow?” she asked, daring to hope.

His smile became a grin. “I waited so long for this, you think I’m gonna give it up now?”

Her heart pounded as she smiled back up at him. “I was really hoping you’d say that.”

Psst, if you wanna tell me who you were imagining, send an ask or reblog 😘

#fanfiction #fiction #adult fiction #smut #who did you see? #fanfic #reader insert

[cameronspecial]

Before The Last Petal Falls (Part 5)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Spoilers for The Inheritance Games series, mention of drug use, swearing and toxic relationship features.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.3K

Summary: Y/N thinks her one is someone entirely different than who she thought and Rafe can't seem to not argue with his supposed love.

Masterlist

“She should’ve ended up with Grayson,” Cole insists, painting Y/N’s nail the sage green she picked out. Y/N shakes her head, needing to have her hand steadied by Cole, “Nooo, Cole. Come on. For one, Grayson is in serious need of some healing time after Emily. And for two, Jameson is just so much hotter. He’s a badass.” Cole chuckles at her words and goes back to focusing on her nails. “I think I’m going to have to take offence to that because I am much more like Grayson than Jameson. Are you trying to tell me something?” 

“Don’t worry, you have nothing to worry about. I think you’re a mixture of both. You have Grayson’s need to be the one to take care of people and Jameson’s hunger. You just are hungry for books, like me. It’s one of the reasons why I think we get along so well.” 

“So you’re saying I’m the Jameson/Grayson to your Avery.”

“Maybe… Hey, why are you so good at painting nails? It’s not fair.” 

“I have five younger sisters. They love mani-pedi night and I can’t say no to them.”

“That’s cute. I hope I can meet them one day. Mason would let me paint his nails but he never had the patience to wait for me to finish them or do mine. Ra- I always finished Rafe’s nails but he would run off with Mason before I could ask him to paint mine.” 

“I would absolutely love for you to meet them. And it’s a shame that they never did your nails because I find that the ladies love it when their man does their nails.” 

“Oh, and that’s who you are to me? My man?” 

“Well, if you want me to be.” 

“Yeah, I would really, really like it if you were.” 

She leans down to his face, which is angled towards her nails, and gives him a kiss on his lips. He pauses what he is doing and starts to move his lips against hers. She takes her hands out of his, wrapping her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. He pulls away from her, “As much as I loved that, can we wait for me to finish your nails and for them to dry? I know you are a little bit of a perfectionist when it comes to your nails.” Y/N nods and unwraps her arms to check her nails. When she sees that they smudged a little, she gives a little pout. Cole shakes his head with a massive smile on his face, gently taking her hands into his, “Don’t fret. I have all the time in the world to fix your nails till they are as perfect as you want them to be.” He places another kiss on her lips before taking the nail polish remover into his hand and taking off the smudged polish. 

Thirty minutes later, Cole finalizes Y/N's nails and they decide to have a movie night in the theatre room. After watching the whole How To Train Your Dragon series, Cole heads back to his hotel room and Y/N heads to hers. She goes to sleep that night with a massive smile on her face. 

——

Mason comes into the kitchen and sees the massive smile his sister has on her face as she eats her cereal. “Given that Cole left pretty late last night and the big smile on your face, I am going to guess you had a good night with him,” Mason deduces, getting himself a bowl of cereal and sitting down beside his sister. Y/N looks at him with a dopey look, “It was a very good night. And don’t give me that face, it’s not for that reason you dirty-minded hog.” Mason laughs and shakes his head.  “Ew, I wasn’t thinking about my sister doing that stuff. Plus, I can see your nails are done so it gives me a pretty good idea of what you guys did last night.”

“Yeah, he painted my nails then we watched some movies. You know I value my nights at home like they are gold so it was a perfect date.”

“Oh, so it was a date, was it? You guys are official, now?” 

“We are. I am no longer looking for a boyfriend. Can I be honest with you?”

“It’s what brothers are for.”

“When Rafe and I were dating, I thought that he was the one. That we were endgame. After we broke up, I still held on to that thought. I thought maybe sometime in the future, we would get back together and have our happily ever after. However, now that he is getting married and Cole and I are giving us another chance, I think I was so wrong.”

Mason gives his sister a spiritless smile, “What do you mean?”

“Well, I think that maybe I was wrong about Rafe and I being soulmates. I think I am meant to marry Cole.” This time, Mason drops his spoon so it clatters against the rim of the bowl. He didn’t want to get in between his sister and best friend; it was the whole reason why he didn’t keep them updated on each other. But hearing what his sister just said, he starts to panic at the thought that they weren’t going to get back together. Mason gives his full attention to his sister, “Maybe, but do you really think there isn’t any other chance of you and Rafe?”

“I mean, Mace, how could there be? He’s getting married and he also hasn’t even forgiven me yet. Honestly, I haven’t even forgiven myself yet. But I need to move on with my life. I can’t keep holding on to my high school sweetheart in hopes that something happens.”

“You’re right. I just think you shouldn’t remove the possibility of it until he actually walks down the aisle. You have until before the last petal falls from the flower girl’s hand to still be with him.’ 

“Um, okay. A little weird that you say that about your best friend’s engagement, but I know you just care.”

“I do. And he may be my best friend but a small part of me will always be team Y/N and Rafe. He’d be a pretty cool brother-in-law.” 

——

The last person Y/N expects to run into at the bookstore is her ex-boyfriend, especially since she hasn’t thought about him in five years. Although, she really shouldn’t be surprised given that he wanted to be an author just as much as she did. Standing before her is Wilson Porter, an all-around horrible person and a terrible boyfriend. She is about to pretend she doesn’t see him and go back outside, but Wilson speaks up before she can. “Well, if it isn’t the best-selling author, who broke up with me.” She turns at him and gives him a glare, “And it’s the boy, who used me for a book offer.” He holds his hands up like he’s been caught. “Really thought you would be over it by now. How are you?”

“So are we really going to be faking pleasantries?”

“No, I guess not. It’s just the last that I heard, Rafe is getting married to a New Yorker turned OBX resident. Must be lonely all by yourself.” 

“Actually, I’m dating a publisher, so it doesn’t bother me. But it must be lonely for you without any offers to publish your book.”

“Haha, very funny. But, in all seriousness, I just thought it was always going to be Rafe for you.” 

“Why?”

Wilson gives her an Are you serious look? and motions for her to sit down on the bench. He sits beside her once she does, making sure to keep their distance. “Besides the fact that every guy on the island knew that Rafe was head of heels for you, I could see the way that you looked at him when we were dating. It was clear you guys had a bond that no one else could understand.” 

“No, that’s wrong. Rafe would always be a jerk to me. How could he have been head over heels for me? And I never really paid attention to him until we started dating.”

“Oh, okay. If you want to be in denial, then fine. I’m just telling you what I felt during our relationship. I bet you that even if I did have true feelings for you, you would still be drawn to him.”

“You’re wrong,” she persists. She doesn’t want to listen to anything else he has to say, so she storms out of the store and towards Mason’s car that she is borrowing. She can’t get what he said out of her head. It reminds her too much of what Cole said to her in their first year of university after they went on a date. He had told her that he had a great time and that he really liked her, but he could see that her heart was in another place. That she was being drawn to someone else. It couldn’t be true. She couldn’t let it be true, at least not anymore. She has to move on. She is beginning to feel like that is her new mantra. 

——

Rafe Cameron begins to feel like he moved into Barry’s trailer. In the last week, he has spent most of his time after work at the dealer’s house, doing drugs to make himself feel better. Since she has come back home, everywhere he turns is a reminder of her. Right now is one of the rare occasions he decides to head back home for the night. He angrily gets into his room and doesn’t bother to greet his fiancée, who is waiting for him on their bed. “Look who finally came home,” she quips with her arms crossed over her chest and a serious look on her face. Rafe jerks his head back and forward with an annoyed look on his face, “You’re angry when I’m not home. You’re angry when I am home. I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Don’t start with me right now, Rafe. This is the first time you’ve been home in a week and like the third time we’ve talked… wait no argued is a much better word for what we’ve been doing.”

“I’m not the one picking fights and being an annoying ass bitch.” 

“No, you do not get to talk to me that way. I don’t know what has gotten into you or what is bothering you, but I can’t take your change in behaviour. I’ve tried to give you time to cool down and to come to me when you are ready, but you don’t seem to want to do that. I don’t know what you want me to do.”

“I want you to let me live my life without your constant questioning on what I am doing. God, it’s like you’re trying to be my mother.”

“I’m sorry you don’t want me to care for you, but it’s what you signed up for when you let me into your life and asked me to marry you. You knew I was a bubbly and caring person.”

“Yeah, well, I underestimated how annoying you could be.”

“That’s enough. I’m not going to just stay here and be your perfect little fiancée while you are out and about being anything but my fiancé. I’m going to stay at a hotel. When you start to remember who you are, you can come get me.”

Rafe watches as Blythe packs her bags and leaves the room without waiting for him. He angrily slams his hands down on his desk then rubs his face with them. Wheezie’s knock on his door snaps him out of his anger. “I heard your argument with Blythe again. I know you’ve been going out to get high,” she says calmly, walking into his room and sitting on his bed. Over the last five years, Wheezie has become the only person other than Y/N that he lets have a true look into what he is feeling. “Have you been doing drugs because Y/N is back?” He sighs and sits beside her on the bed. She brings his head to rest on her shoulder to try to comfort him. 

“I just want to stop thinking about her. I want to stop seeing her having the time of her life on a date with someone who isn’t mean.”

“Is that why you punched holes in the walls? Did you do it while you were high?”

“Yes and no. I was high when I made the holes and it was partially because I saw her on the date. I mean it was the reason why I got high in the first place. But I also got angry because she caught me doing drugs at Kelce’s party. She was so angry at first and then all of a sudden she was worried about me. It was like she could see into my soul and she shouldn’t be allowed to do that anymore. She doesn’t care about me.”

“That’s not true you know, she still does, Rafe. I can see it in her eyes. She isn’t the type of person to stop caring and you know it. You just keep saying it because it hurts you more that she still cares but broke up with you anyway. And it’s okay to be hurt by that, but you can’t keep getting into arguments with Blythe because of her and you probably shouldn’t be marrying Blythe either.”

“You’re probably right. And I thought I was the oldest. When did you get so wise?”

“It must come with my driving abilities. Plus, I like to talk to a certain bookworm, who also happens to be wise.”

For once in weeks, Rafe let himself give a genuine happy laugh at the mention of Y/N and it felt good. Now, he just needs to figure out how he is going to fix his life so he always feels this good.

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gillybear17 @f4ll-for-you @winterrrnight @maggiecc @magicwithaknife @loves0phelia @jiarapamuk @blisslove @baby19sthings

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