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satoruhour · 9 months

Note

ur gonna get sick of seeing me in ur inbox lol but t i’ve been thinking a whole lot about sugar daddies and i need to know what the jjk men would be like as sugar daddies and what type of sugar baby they’d go for and and and their favourite things to do with you, both inside and outside the bedroom 💖 and how likely they are to fall in love and make u their wifey

a/n: i am so normal about jjk men. this shit is so long i got carried away. it’s too long that i’ll need to seperate and post nanami’s and toji’s part in a second post TT pt. 2 here

warnings: long piece, sugar daddy!au, discussions of kinks including daddy kink, creampies / breeding, public sex, exhibitionism, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, facials, cumshots, praise, degradation, dp, threesome, voyeurism, orgasm denial, overstimulation, lingerie, brat-taming, let me know if i missed anything. n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

most annoying sugar daddy eva but he’s one of the fun ones where he feels like your best friend and sponsor all in one

i honestly see gojo not having a preference for specific sugar babies, but he doesn’t like babies who are ashamed of their relationship. like it’s one thing to be private of your relationship but another to introduce satoru as just your trust fund without alluding to your relationship

“he’s helping me with my university fees” like yeah any rich FRIEND could do that but it’s different from hooking an arm around his to introduce you two as a couple

sure maybe he may have blurred the lines at first when touches became more personal and whatnot but at this point he’s basically your boyfriend — even if you don’t want to explain the sugar daddy part, he still wants to be know as your partner and equal

you two “met” at an event where you were paid minimum wage for a waitress job, serving drinks to rich ppl and he’s so entranced with how you move. it’s not until later when he goes outside to accompany geto for a smoke that he sees you and your friends who worked the job together just talking and laughing in the parking lot while you rested your feet

it was cute and refreshing seeing your laughter after experiencing your stoic expression in the stuffy event even he didnt want to go to. since it was once of the first few events he started attending as a new CEO

made an impression by approaching you when your friends went in and your back was turned but you took him as a creep and screamed and punched him and he’s groaning while you just apologise profusely

it’s his fault, he knows, approaching in such a dark area but he doesnt mind the dark bruise forming on his nose bridge even when his best friend was laughing from a distance and youre helping him off the ground. your hands are so soft and your voice so sweet he swears he wants to protect you from the get go

after that whole hooha, he finds out youre still a uni student trying to pay off fees and randomly asks if you want to be his sugar baby and realises he wants you to be his gf when you’re playing some digimon video game at his house, enjoying your winter break. youre triumphant in the round and he grabs your wrist mid celebratory pose and pulls you to him

are you going to punch me for payback? gojo pfts and laughs, and just says just wanted to tell you i like you and LEAVES dude is so afraid of your answer until youre wrapping your arms arnd him from behind muttering out a finally and hearing the vibration of his chuckle

gojo wants his baby to ask for help when you needs it, and doesn’t mind being spoiled

LOVES to buy you flashy stuff. glittery, bright coloured things (that somehow still look classy) that scream expensive. gojo is very good at persuasion. he listens you dont like it however

i feel like the more he gets to know you, he understands your style more so while some of the things he buys are still fairly gaudy, you’re surprised every time he manages to purchase something that fits your preference. he’s gotten very good at it

gojo wires you money when he feels like it, whenever. he calls what he has a “sugar baby radar” and it’s just him thinking youre panicking over not having money for a textbook or something and just types in a random amount to transfer to you lol

he’s just a chill guy though, who wants to be a good boyfriend as he is a sugar daddy. like yeah he’s had sugar babies before and he enjoys giving but you’ve always hooked him in from day one and he realises he doesn’t just want to give you money but love too

gojo wants a bit of balance in the relationship as well — so he accompanies you to fashion stores to try on clothes but he would also love it if you followed him to tailor stores or watch stores for normal CEO stuff

you roll your eyes but actually you love every suit he changes into, and you always think of taking him right there

he LOVES his sunglasses that’s one thing he’s always dragging you to look at

and then there is interests that involve the both of you: lingerie shopping lol, jewellery, etc

he gets you a little G.S. initial necklace for your second anni and it looks so cute on you

clingy and so annoying bout it. you love it tho, seeing such a rich guy babble out five more minutes with hair sticking out everywhere.

he surrenders to you easily in the way he lets you crash his place whenever you’re cramming for an exam, or just needs some comfort. his things becomes yours very easily and he smiles when he finds himself wanting to learn how to cook properly when you’re sleeping in

likes to buy lingerie that matches his eyes, but ofc also picking your preferred colour. but seeing the fabric that matches the blue of his eyes drives him crazy, but also he gets to say “my eyes are always on you” and it’s just a reference to how there’s baby blue lingerie on you

HES SO LAME . i swear to god.

also a little bit of a boomer when it comes to younger slang and whatnot and it’s endearing to see when he’s supposed to be a CEO but you can’t help but laugh when he asks you for help on what fomo meant

very open on topics that touchy subjects or sensitive things. he may appear loud and annoying but he’s got depth to him due to his hardships since he was young. like yeah sure a guy who already was in line to take over his father couldn’t have hardships when he was young but he’s always despised this line of work. satoru is still finding a way to break off from his toxic family business to create his own, something that wont come without blackmail and scandals

the first time you heard this you were surprised because you had never seen gojo so serious before. he mentions it’s not obligatory for you to open up as well, but you mumble along about always struggling with money and working jobs to make ends meet. it’s not detrimental, but sometimes you wish there was someone treating you to a small meal or drink

this vulnerable state was early on in your relationship as well, and as you two go along, gojo is so grateful to be able to take care of you. it strengthens your relationship as well, because while you have your funny, hysterical moments, being vulnerable with your sugar daddy turned boyfriend is everything you could ask for

gojo realises the first time he might put a ring on you was when you guys had sex that was intense and broke the headboard LMFAO you two laughed about it during it, but during aftercare you’re patting his chest, telling him how you’ll end work early to meet him at IKEA to get a new one tomorrow — that simple act of going with someone to find furniture like ohhhh my god he was so whipped

like it’s one thing to buy clothes and material things but when you said that, flashes of your possible married life flashed before his eyes and he wants to say i love you but finds you’re already asleep. he can’t wait to actually move out of his family sponsored home into an apartment with you. gojo doesn’t care if it’s smaller than mansions and penthouses. if you’re happy, he is.

n*sfw hc’s below

gojo is open to a lot of things regarding your sex life. he didn’t want to scare you when you first started out but when he found out you’re just as much of a freak as he is he’s going to pound town baby!

not big on the daddy kink ngl (and he also because he’s too pathetic to be called a daddy), but loves using it in the context of cumming in you and breeding you and the prospect of you being pregnant with his child.

even if it’s not on his checklist right now, he just loves the filthiness and saying things like that

loves to fuck in bathrooms of important events, the cold marble against your skin making you freeze up as your eyes can hardly focus on your reflection. you’re just thankful you were able to find the ‘cleaning’ sign to prevent anyone from entering

loves to tease you and threaten to take away his black card and youre whining. hes annoying, asking you to use your words and youre begging to cum on his fingers.

very playful in the bedroom but he’s always calling you his dumb baby who loves getting fucked stupid by him until theres only money and him on your mind

loves it when you wear the extensions to the G.S. initial necklace, buying four more initials: two for your wrist, two for your ankles so he can hear it jingle when you stroke his cock while your flick your tongue at his tip

r hear it next to his ear when your legs are on his shoulder as he rails into you

on a funnier note he would totally fuck you on a bed of money. just for shits and giggles

loves to film you especially in his office, whether you’re playing with yourself or sucking him off or getting fucked he loves it so much bc of the fact he’s so unprofessional in a professional setting

gojo likes it when you initiate sex, especially in places that are risky and pretty public. his office is a starter, coming in dressed in a tight pencil skirt to mirror his insufferable PA who kept making advances on him. she was demoted the very next day LMFAO

but yeah you wore the skirt to provoke him, pulling his tie over the table while a stocking clad knee rests on his wooden desk. there’s a confidence in you he’s never seen before and he just cant resist flicking his eyes down to the suffocating button up shirt you’ve got on

satoru doesn’t care that his whole office can hear you moan out his name or the slaps of his balls on your ass. or doesn’t really care about the construction workers looking at you two go at it like rabbits from the opposite building

the heat of the glass paired with your body that feels on fire is enough to make you lightheaded but the eyes and ears peeking in on your intercourse is so thrilling to you bc you know gojo can just pay them off to shut the fuck up

loves you on your knees giving him head when he’s in an important meeting, the swirl of your tongue feeling so good on his length

but what’s more he loves giving you head even more. doesnt matter where. office table, washing machine, bed, he’s so in love with your cum and cunt and has to eat you out at least once a day

gojo loves to cum in you but also on your face, especially if you wear glasses. seeing his white hot cum splattered on your lenses and your face while your tongue darts out to lick some of it off he swear there’s a few more blobs of cum that seeps out from his tip

warnings for drabble: reader has glasses, pet names, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, face-fucking, praise, facial, cum eating, semi-public sex

“baby— sweetness, oh my g-god…” gojo whines out, once the board members are out of the meeting room, rolling his chair back slowly while you follow on your knees, cock still in your mouth. he’s glancing down at you with such need you’d think you’re the one leading the relationship, the hands in your hair tightening when you lick down his shaft before taking one of his balls in his mouth, sucking at the sack while pumping him.

the long acrylic nails that he paid for are on display along with your G.S. bracelet as you pump his dick, slick, wet noises fill the spacious meeting room. gojo almost wants to say something but your head descends on his large cock again, taking him right to the back of your mouth when his tip hits your throat and you struggle to keep your eyes open as you breathe through your nose.

“fuuckk… that’s it. take me s’well,” satoru moans at the tears forming at your waterline, pulling your head off for a moment for you to catch your breath and you know what he wants to do, because his hips cannot resist one bit whenever you’ve got his dick in your mouth. slowly, he starts to move his body off the office chair, thrusting up into your waiting, obedient mouth and he moans so loud he isn‘t surprised someone hasn’t come in already.

“so wet and warm, princess— s-shit, can’t wait to fuck your cute little pussy,” he has a foul mouth, and you moan around his length at the words, hands tensing around his thighs as he continued to fuck your face. gojo is so rough that your glasses are messed up, tilting to one side but you continue to feel up his body. you would get fired like this, sucking the cock of someone who has their pants pulled down halfway while wet, gurgling noises fill the space. but you knew the CEO, the man who’s now whining out your name as his hips start to stutter, eyes scrunched up in pure pleasure before forcing you off his cock, hands stroking his leaking cock in quick movements. you adjust your glasses like a good girl, sticking out your tongue as you admire the sight before you. want my cum all over your face, angelface?

satoru whimpers out that he’s gonna cum! with his heavy, beautiful cock out, pumping harshly before he shoots his load all over you, spilling his white, viscous liquid all over your face and glasses and you swallow whatever that’s close to your mouth and tongue, darting out to lick up the heavy ball of cum still leaking from his sensitive tip, and he jolts on your tongue.

you giggle, hand closing around his length once more and gojo just groans at its warmth. he loves it, he loves everything ’bout you and he can’t wait to turn over the tables later when he hears you say, “again.”

✶GETO

doting sugar daddy!!! out of sex life he’s the most ‘giving’, but he has his moments of depriving you of things because you being a brat but yes he’s the softest in the normal context of a relationship

similarly, not much preference for sugar babies but he wouldn’t like babies who ask for too much? idk if that makes sense but it’s more of being given so many options of a type of clothing or bag but still whining to want something more expensive

like the money doesn’t bother him but it’s more of your attitude regarding material things. can’t stand babies who are rotten to the core and are actually spoiled that it ruins the act of him giving you things and of you asking for things because no matter what he buys you’re not satisfied

it also pisses him off if it carries into your way of treating people, dragging him away from his co-workers to only want him for yourself, that sort of thing

yea… that. unfortunately he’s had his fair share of babies like that, bc he’s so generous they end up so spoiled and terrible that even now he’s still getting texts from them. poor guy

he likes if you’re able to bite back with your own sort of fire, he doesnt expect you to if you dont like to but it turns him on seeing you shout at a co-worker for gossiping about your relationship perhaps

he met you through your intern position at his company, and it’s been a few weeks before you’re confused at why the CEO wanted to see you

hes not one to rush into relationships but he was so interested in seeing you react to being asked to be his sugar baby that he blurts it out and slaps his hand on his mouth. “wrong thing. my bad”

when you’ve been under his care for a few months, he sees how hard you work while completing other assignments at lunch, he wants you to surrender to him when you need the comfort. lets you sleep in his office and reluctantly stroked your hair, shaking when you lean into the affection. ends up sleeping on the floor watching you and gets massive back pain and suffocates when you fall onto your boss at 7am in the morning

unfortunately the two of you were not exactly on the same page that day. you thought it was a one off thing. geto thinks youre already dating. this goes on for a few weeks ;;;

geto NEEVERR asked you out so you were surprised to find that geto wanted to be like, an actual boyfriend and an actual date when he showed you a piece of paper and it was like a new pottery studio that opened down the road

and he just says “i thought we already were dating?????”

yeah like he wasnt giving you more things than usual and being more touchy with you. you didnt want to read into it too much okay!!!!

but it’s fine, because geto was one of the best boyfriend you ever had. youre convinced he would be a great bf even if you werent in this sugar daddy / baby arrangement

geto likes to show you off quietly, a hand on your back and your thigh, or a whisper to your ears that it has the other workers talking, but you don’t mind when the things he says are sometimes the sweetest things. they’re also filthy.

it isnt bc he doesn’t want to show you off, but he likes the attention and gossip when you enter his office for the nth time that day and the eyes on him like he’s committing a crime. he likes the eyes that follow you knowing they can't have you. but he pays them, so they can’t say much

suguru loves to buy things that are for his eyes, going back to the ‘showing you off quietly’ part, like paying for a tattoo on your lower back, an anklet that’s sometimes hidden in your shoe, a belly button piercing, lingerie, he loves it

ofc he loves buying you clothes and dresses too, but he sometimes gets a bit jealous of everyone’s eyes on you so they’re sometimes a little less revealing than you would like

ok i should clarify too: he LIKES everyone’s eyes on you only when he knows he can show and tell them that youre his. but how tf is he supposed to do that with a mere dress??? u get what i mean

he’s not going to be an asshole and not let you wear a revealing piece of apparel that you like tho! but just know what you’ll be getting later at night lol

geto is very on trend as an older person, sometimes sending you tiktok trends you can do or updating you on conventions or events that you are interested in

he likes routine, so everyday he’ll be transferring a set amount of money to you for your daily allowance but sometimes you dont even use it all so it just piles up in your account lol

and he is observant, always wiring you more money than usual if you’re going out with your friends or meeting a friend for a bday, sacrificing his time to learn about your major so he can help you in whatever way he can !!! he’s that sort of bf

gives you handmade gifts sometimes!! it’s soooo endearing when he makes time for it and gives you something that isnt bought w/ money. likes to do those photo ones bc theyre ones that mean more to him, but he also rlly likes writing letters under them and giving you like a seven page letter talking bout why youre a blessing to him

is pretty stylish when he’s not in his suits. likes to wear baggy clothes like he’s nineteen again and he looks young enough to pull it off so you two always look cool when you two go out

weirdly his personality at work and on dates is vastly different from each other. you think that maybe he wants to keep work, work. but later on in the relationship you both realise it’s how you’re so easy-going to be around that he doesn’t have to be dominating with you??? like he’s so okay with you putting bunny ears on him or having his arm hooked around yours instead. basically he’s very comfortable in his masculinity and he wishes he could be like that at work too, but the finance bros would be questioning why this guy was even their CEO

geto listens to you easily. and like i said hes observant, bringing you a glass of water when you’re coughing or opening the blinds of his office when you’re reading. the smile you give him after every favour he does is enough reward for him, and he really doesn’t mind doing all those things for you either.

basically worships you, so when you’re suggesting that his company start having courses for men to learn how to be proper human beings (following your question of why he’s so diff at work vs with you), he’s immediately setting up a meeting to achieve that. the guys who are borderline misogynists obviously leave immediately and hes just like. why didnt i think of that b4????

is always always thinking of you. he’s become so distracted in meetings and conversations sometimes and your spell on him is hypnotising.

the first time he realises he properly loves you (and also wants to marry you) is when you two make love. like yes you’ve fucked and shit but it happens inside a shower where you offered to wash his hair. it’s cute seeing you stand on a small stool to reach his height, but the feel of your fingers massaging the shampoo into his scalp is soooo good. and from there he lets you wash his body with the loofah too, scrubbing down every inch until ofc one thing leads to another

he thinks it was your hands that held so much love, washing his body that the sex was slow and had a lot of feelings laced with it.

he also didn’t want to fall, though. but you slipped a little after coming the first time and geto was able to catch you in time. you shared giggles and a little kiss and he thinks that maybe this life forever with you would be one of the best things to happen to him

his resolve solidifies later when he’s calling his usual tiler to retile the showering part of the bathroom and when he ends the call he just goes would i do this for anyone else?

yeah probably not — and so geto buys a ring the very next day

n*sfw hc’s below

very comfortable with letting you take the lead if you want to, but usually likes to be the one running the show

like gojo he is very open to things but only if you’re okay with it. like you have to be the one to bring it up or he’s afraid he’ll scare you lol

gets turned on easily, but he’s very good at hiding it. like the day you wore a revealing dress to his office. it was so difficult not to moan out when he sees you walk through the door. he wanted to stand up and kiss you SO bad but he was in a zoom meeting with potential clients lmfao

but he made sure you knew you wouldnt be teasing him and getting off so easily that day after he asks you to stay where you were and he ended up making up some lame excuse of having another meeting anyway before he leaves the call and locks the door and slams you against it and he hikes up your dress as he places a leg on his shoulder

geto eats you out right then and there

also rmb how i said he gets jealous of ppl staring at you? well suguru loves it if it were to happen in a sexual context and he gets to fuck you in front of everybody. he just cant show them you belong to him at a normal event in a dress he bought, but he’s totally fine with pounding you from behind and letting them watch as you get ruined with tears and mascara running down your face

can be really mean behind doors if he’s not sweet with you. you like to tease him!!!! Sometimes you’re punished for it!!!! geto loves both ends of the spectrum: denying you your high and overstimulating you. he only ever denies you if youre being a brat but usually he likes to make you cum on his tongue multiple times before he’s fucking you

he enjoys your face of want and need, either grinding against him to cum (denial) or pushing him away despite your body wanting it (overstim)

sometimes makes you work for your allowance and tells you to tell him who’s fucking you so good just for some money in your pocket. your pussy is too good so he was going to give it to you anyway

is not opposed to voyeurism. usually he brings his best friend over to fuck you and bc he’s a whiny bitch, geto gets off to both of you fucking like dogs in heat with a slow pace to his hand. often initiates threesomes with gojo and makes him the middle man, fucking him while gojo fucks you and he loves it every time. sometimes he makes gojo watch the two of you too

but he also loves it when you take two cocks in you, him up your pussy bc youre his, first and foremost, while satoru takes your ass.

regarding sex, suguru likes it when you take the reins to pleasure yourself. he gets off seeing you use him as ive mentioned in the previous drabble, and just like the denial / overstim part, loves to see your mouth contort into an ‘o’ along with your rolled back eyes. bounce on his dick, ride his face, slobber over his cock while you rub your clit, he fuckin loves it

not big on the daddy thing either, but it depends on his mood tbh. im not sure how that works but he likes when you use it when youre deep in subspace and just going limp as he fucks you and all can manage is moaning out small “daddy’s” helplessly

warnings for drabble: gojo watches, sub!gojo, voyeurism, insinuation of stsg, exhibitionism, m! masturbation, overstimulation, semi-public sex, oral (f and slight m receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, pet names, praise, cum eating, implied threesome + 2nd round

“suguru— no, f-fuck, they’re gonna hear!” you muffle your moans with your mouth, hand clasped tight onto your lips while you’re pressed up against the door. you’ve been like this for three orgasms already, legs shaking while you struggle to keep your knees from buckling under you. it’s like geto doesn’t even care how the office door is so thin, occasional thumps occurring from how geto pushes you against the wood. the workers outside obviously know what’s going on, but they don’t dare say a word.

“let me enjoy this, princess,” he manages to say quickly before going back to slurping up your juices, but while you think your situation is bad, you’re glancing over to gojo in geto’s office chair, hand stroking his cock languidly, but every so often you can see how satoru thrusts his hips into the air, needing anything but his own hand right now. “and keep eye contact with satoru.”

geto purrs out his best friend’s name, pulling your hips towards his relentless mouth as your arousal drips down your inner thighs and legs. across you, there’s gojo who looks like he wants to touch the both of you so terribly, but is only subjected to tearful eyes and his warm hand that doesn’t compare to suguru’s or your mouth, little pants leaving his mouth. he watches as you grind your hips into his best friend’s mouth, the obscene noises of your sopping wet cunt makes him twitch in his hand.

“babygirl… suguru…” he whines out, sweat dripping down his body at the stuffiness of the office while the slick noises of him stroking his length reverberates throughout the room. geto hums at his begging voice, but only sucks on your clit harder and it makes you moan out, hands getting lost in his long black hair while your eyes are threatening to roll to the back of your head. the only ground you have now is satoru’s bright blue ones, a shiver going through you when he whimpers out your name

“you’re doing so well, s-satoru… shit,” you’re calling out to the white-haired male who locks eyes with you, both turned on at such a sight: the sweaty hair stuck to your face and your beautiful sounds, the flush on gojo’s cheeks and his angry tip that’s leaking pre-cum. “suguruu… oh my god—”

“yeah?” he speaks in between slobbering all over your pussy, “so fuckin’ wet for me, baby,” flicking and playing with your puffy, sensitive clit with his tongue until you hunch over him on a particular lick, the leg over his shoulder squeezing him so much that it cramps and you’re cumming suddenly and you’re forgetting about satoru and everyone outside. your head slams so hard against the door that you get a little lightheaded, but the crashing of your fourth orgasm is all you can fixate on as your body shudders and incessant whines escape your mouth.

“my favourite meal of the day,” geto smiles from below you and grins when you mumble out how it’s more of his fourth meal of the day, taking a hand from his hair before he places a kiss on the back of it and spares a glance towards gojo who’s close to crying.

with a nod from suguru, you’re walking on shaky legs before kneeling before satoru, wrapping your lips ’round his tip and that’s all it takes for him to cum, shooting ropes upon ropes of hot semen down your throat as you stroke his base. the other is bucking his hips into your mouth at the sensitivity, moaning out both your name and suguru’s.

“attagirl.” you slyly smile at the praise that befalls on your ears before showing both of them the cum that’s left on your tongue, already excited for the next round.

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sad-leon · 9 months

Text

Part 23: The End

And here it is! The end! Leo also gets a night to just.. relax, be him.

I'll leave the sentiment ramble under the cut:

Seeing this comic end saddens me as much as it excites me. I have so much more planned for this account, this fandom (I have a seperated Au in the works), so this is not goodbye.

But this comic brought me to a community that has made my life better. The rottmnt community I've found here is one I wouldn't trade for the world. I love the friends I've made and this space I found where I can enjoy creating again. I made this comic for me, and even here at the end, I still enjoyed making it.

And this isn't quite the end of Two Shades of Blue either! I can't provide a date, but I do want to make an epilogue where Leon goes to see the other turtles again.

Thank you to everyone that has read this and supported me, whether you were here from the beginning or started reading just yesterday, Thank You.

Masterpost

#sad•leonart #rise2012crossover #two shades of blue #tsob #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2012 raph #tmnt 2012 donnie #tmnt 2012 leo #tmnt crossover #tmnt 2012 mikey #tmnt 2012 casey #tmnt 2012 april #rottmnt leo

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writingstoraes · 11 months

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hello! for the ig imagine, can i request charles with a medical student reader? maybe she's in her final year before residency and even though charles has no clue about medic he still tries to help her with studying. thank you!

patient 🩺

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!medstudent!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: whew being a pre med student ngl this fueled my delusions a lil (jk) anyway i hope u like this, anon 🤍 thank you so much for requesting! i also tried to stick with ig posts since its been so long since i did one thats mostly ig posts hehe

about: supportive charles and his future doctor of a girlfriend!

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, isahernaez, franciscagomes, and 21,991 others

yourusername officially on my last hospital duty before graduation! can't believe i have spent 4 tiring yet meaningful years of medical school, still feels unreal. couldn't have done it without the love and support of the people i hold dear to me 🤍

charles_leclerc So proud of you, amoùr 😘 Je n'ai jamais douté de toi. I never doubted you

yourusername thanks for being my first patient, baby <3

pascale_leclerc Congratulations, dear! We miss you!

carlossainz55 The group finally has a doctor! That means unlimited recklessness 😎

pierregasly Remember how we always wanted to try riding a bike on the roof

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, arthurleclerc, carlossainz55, and 50,223 others

yourusername a seperate appreciation post for the love of my life — who's witnessed all my lowest lows and highest highs. despite his own busy schedule, he still managed to fetch me from uni/hospital, prepare breakfast for me, and even help me study.

i guess i owe you a ton for all the cancelled dates and postponed plans, charles_leclerc? 💋

ps. the second picture is charles asleep on my shoulder after he helped me study three subjects for a major exam that went on for HOURS. i think i underestimated just how much he loves me :)

carlosluvr GOD i need me a charles right now its bad enough my pre med is killing me

hamiltonmerc Charles out here setting standards ridiculously high there really is just one of him huh 🤨

charles_leclerc Would do anything for you and you know that ❤️ (Honestly got to a point where I memorized some of what you were studying)

carlossainz55 Woah there Mr. Doctor?

charles_leclerc I think I can give you an injection now, mate 😄

carlossainz55 No thanks I still love my life

charles_leclerc

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen, arthurleclerc and 1,445,211 others

charles_leclerc So incredibly lucky to be with someone as intelligent and hardworking as you. I promise to be with you every step of the way in full support and ready to shower you with love ❤️

Kinda afraid of needles but if you need to practice, I'm always available. Wake me up when you need someone to quiz you or make you coffee. I love you even when you're frustrated when you're practicing your sutures.

tagged: yourusername

charlossf23 You're telling me Y/N has Charles and all I got from medical school was anxiety

yourusername still need you when i study for the boards

charles_leclerc Working on the flashcards already, chèrie 😘

supermaxmax THE FLASHCARDS ARE SO REAL

pierregasly Carlos and I are on the roof tell Y/N to bring her medical supplies

yourusername please get down from there

charles_leclerc added to his instagram story!

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tagging: @slytherheign

notes: god pre med is hard wish i had someone like charles 😔 i hope you liked this, anon! thank you so much for reading 🤍

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hier--soir · 4 months

Text

raising cain | 001

din djarin x ofc

pairing: spy!din djarin x spy!ofc rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: at a private gala in berlin, two agents slip inside, uninvited. unbeknownst to one another, and working for seperate agencies, they prepare to bring the same target to justice. the only problem is - one of them wants him dead, and the other wants him alive. who will succeed? will the strange connection they feel stop them from completing their mission? warnings/tags: modern au, spy!din can bring them in warm or he can bring them in cold, ofc is named + has short hair + is french, alcohol consumption, brief + unemotional mention of being an orphan, violence [including impersonal violence between din and ofc], descriptions of blood and injury and [briefly] brain matter, murder, very brief mention of sex trafficking, sexual tension like hello, choking [sexual and non sexual], ofc has an interesting relationship with pleasure and pain, fingering [not technically in public, but certainly not in private], kinda dom!din, explicit rough unprotected piv sex... on the floor... carpet burns... okay bye. word count: 9.7k series masterlist | main masterlist to raise cain means to cause a commotion, to create a disturbance, to make trouble. a/n: my only defence is that i've been watching too many james bond movies lately. also, for the record, i love berlin. also also, the smut in this made me blush. okay hope you guys like this one x follow @hier--soirupdates if you'd like to be notified when i share my writing this is part one of raising cain.

BERLIN, FEBRUARY

It is bitterly cold, and she hates Berlin.

Not because of the weather, although it never helps to visit a city one loathes while the windows are covered in a thick layer of ice and the ground a slippery sheen of sleet.

No, Cain hates Berlin because it has always been a city of business for her. Never pleasure, nor entertainment.

In the car, en route to the gala, a driver escorts her by the Staatsoper Unter den Linden, the Berliner Dom, the Altes Museum, and each one passes her by in a blur of beige architecture and pretty lights. Endeavours for another trip, another year, another life.

She pays her driver in cash and thanks him for taking the scenic route. In broken English he slips his number into her palm and asks if she will use his services the next time she visits Berlin. She smiles and nods and doesn’t tell him that she hopes to never return.

Her dress is a flimsy thing. One of satin and silk that clings to the skin of her arms, her torso. It curls around her ankles, just shy of brushing the ground as she exits the car. The air outside bites against her skin. Her feet ache and cry out for reprieve, strapped into a skimpy pair of shoes that pinch at her toes as she glides across the cobblestone path.

A clean-shaven man stands at the door, adorned in a modest suit and a winding earpiece. He requests her name, notes her face, and grants her entry with a strict nod and an all too brief once over. Handsomely oblivious to the comforting weight of a weapon at the inside of her thigh.

The venue is small, but the crowd is thick, pulsing with life; dense enough for her to mingle, to go unnoticed as she glides through the ground floor, blending into a mix of countless other women dressed in long slinky dresses. She wears black because they all do; her makeup is simple because she did not come to be remembered.

She accepts a flute of champagne from a man with a tray. Offers him a graceful smile and a softly spoken danke schön, and waits until his back is turned before tipping the golden liquid into a plant at the base of the staircase.

Chancellor Karl Weber skirts past her, one of the most powerful men in the German government, and she does not meet his eye.

She is patient; thoughtful as she surveys the room. She knows better than to move too quickly. She counts the exits and entries, the number of security guards and wait staff. Assesses the balcony that overlooks the room, curving around the entirety of the upper level, and slips up a winding staircase when she is sure no one is watching.

With every upward step, the lengthy slit down the side of her dress parts, revealing the soft skin of her legs.

There’s something intimate about the balcony space. Red velvet drapery covers the walls, hanging from the roof and spooling against the floors in soft crimson swirls. She takes in her surroundings, fingers twinkling across the gorgeous fabric as she walks. A slim door around the bend, at the other side of the upper level, reads NUR FÜR MITARBEITER; staff only.

Another, a few paces behind where she settles, leads to a small bathroom. Six private stalls, one with a thin window above the toilet, just wide enough for her to squeeze through. Beyond it; open air, a thick pipe that leads down to the street. Perfect for scaling.

Assuming a position near the bathroom, she tucks herself amongst the drapes. Lets shadows and velvet caress her skin and hide her from prying eyes as she juts out a knee and slips a slender hand between her thighs.

The pistol is dense. Thick and black, it rests heavily in her palm as she slips a titanium cylinder from her purse. Deft fingers lead the butt of the suppressor to the mouth of the pistol. Pin meets groove and she lets it spin, stroking cool metal as she twists and twists until it clicks into place.

Ulrich Meier stands four metres from the stage, eight from the bar, and two from the closest security guard.

Another man—taller, leaner—talks down to him. Speaking in hushed tones, the two of them glance over their shoulders every few moments. Careful, cunning as they talk.

And as she watches them, her face remains neutral. But somewhere inside of her chest, somewhere forbidden and secret and soft, she feels a threatening rage begin to unfurl.

Because the longer she stares, the easier it gets to picture other faces. Men and women with sallow cheeks and fear in their eyes. Countless bodies strewn apart by weaponry they had no business being close to; rigor mortis setting their horror-stricken faces in stone.

Yes, that anger unspools inside of her. Burns through her veins like ice, chilling her blood until she feels nothing but relief as she bends her elbow and lines up her shot.

Cain does not think about collateral. Cain does not think about those standing close to him, ones who will no doubt remember this night for the rest of their lives. She does not think about his wife or his children. These things do not concern her. All that matters is the mission.

Her hands are steady around the weapon, finger poised beside the thick trigger. She takes slow breaths. Deep inhales that fill her lungs, followed by warm exhales. Once, twice, three times until she is steeled. An eye pinches shut. Her finger slips over the trigger. Meier laughs at something.

And then a heavy palm lands on her waist.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The man’s voice is a low, rasping thing.

She stiffens, grip freezing around the pistol. His breath hits the back of her neck, and a hundred little hairs there stand on end. She smells cologne, light and airy. Feels fingertips dig into the flesh around her hipbone. Ulrich Meier turns and walks towards a doorway, disappearing from sight.

“Take your hand off of me.”

“Lower your gun.”

Cain’s elbow whips backward, cracking hard against the centre of his chest. His fingers tighten then fall from her waist and she spins on her heel, the butt of her pistol colliding with his jaw.

He stumbles backwards and she advances on him, returning the gun to the holster on her thigh before striking him across the cheek with an open palm. His head hardly even turns before he’s batting her arm down with a stern shove.

She throws a mean fist forward, but her knuckles barely graze his jaw before the heel of his palm snaps against her chin. The blow sends her staggering to the side, head bouncing off the wall with a low thwack. She tastes blood, the tip of her tongue stings, and when he steps closer she juts her knee into his groin. Feels the harsh rush of the breath leaving his lungs, exhaled roughly across her face, and snarls.

Cain wraps her fingers around the nape of his neck and digs her nails in, pulling him down to meet the knee that she drives into into his stomach. The man grunts against her chest, his hand grasping upward to wrap around her neck. He squeezes tight, dragging her toward him before rocking her skull into the wall again, holding her there. Stars burst in her vision, her nose tingles, and she spits a low curse. Music swells downstairs, a live band starting up on the stage.

Neat curls and dark eyes dance before her. She blinks to stop the world from spinning. Firm jaw… strong nose. Moustache.

“Din Djarin,” she rasps, voice strained from the pressure of his palm on her neck. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

Recognition sparks in those dark eyes.

“Cain,” he grunts, pupils like pinpricks as he assesses her face, and then his free hand is sneaking past the slit in her dress, tapping the gun at her thigh.

“A Walther?” Din’s fingers squeeze ever so slightly tighter at the sides of her throat, callouses rough on her skin. "A little old fashioned, isn't it?"

“A German gun to kill a German cunt,” she whispers. The artery in her neck pulses and pounds, blood roaring in her ears. “It felt fitting.”

“No one dies tonight,” he grits out, and it takes everything she has not to laugh right in his face. He cannot see the way her arm is twisted between them, fingers working to loosen the tiny dagger resting just inside the sleeve of her dress free.

“I should have known,” she smirks faintly, fingers grasping the hilt of the blade now. “The Guild do love to play around in international affairs these days.”

“Quiet,” he hisses, fingers sliding up to grip around her jaw now. His palm is hot against her lips, covering that sly smirk, the way she sucks in warm, grateful breaths. “Keep your mouth shut. Meier doesn’t die tonight. Not here.”

Smooth, careful, she presses the tip of her blade against his abdomen. Only 4 inches in length, but long enough—sharp enough—to penetrate through two layers of clothing and pierce the thick skin of his side. Thumb and forefinger tighten, begging for an excuse to press forward, to eliminate this new complication.

But then two things happen in quick succession.

Cain hears a peal of laughter raise from the staircase and glances past Din to spot blonde hair, a red dress, and slides the dagger back inside her sleeve. Moving fast, his hand falls from her face, body curling protectively around hers in a faux embrace. He tucks his face against her neck and the short hairs in his moustache raise goosebumps on her skin.

“Qu’est-ce-que tu fais?” she hisses. What are you doing?

“Shut up,” he bites back, jostling her against the wall once more.

Laughter dies down into awkward chuckles and murmured words. Cain peers over Din’s shoulder, understanding him then. Her fingers tangle in the loose curls at the nape of his neck and she watches them, ignoring how soft it is against her skin. Two women, eyes assessing them from the top of the stairs. The blonde frowns, wary; concerned.

“They’re looking,” Cain warns, hooking an ankle around the back of his.

Something soft skates down the side of her neck. Such a stark contrast to the rough grip of his hand before; a pair of lips tracing gentle kisses along her pulse point. For a moment, she holds her breath, focusing on the dull ache in the back of her skull, the feeling of his arms around her.

“Make them look away,” he says plainly, the words a hot wash against her skin.

His palm tightens around her hip, and Cain tilts her chin upward, letting the women see her smile as he lays kisses against her throat, lips parting to form a loosely whispered oh. Through heavy lidded eyes she sees the women flush and look away, one of them giggling. But they do not leave.

Meier, where is Meier? The thought jolts through her like an electric shock, and her smile fades a little.

Frustrated, she skates a hand around his body; lets it fall to the hem of his suit jacket, rucking it up until her fingers are digging into the flesh of his ass. Round and thick with muscle, he tenses beneath her grip, letting slip a harsh grunt of surprise into her ear. The women balk at that, turning to begin their descent down the stairs at last.

Biting back a smirk, Cain’s fingers trail up up up inside his jacket, around the front of his body. Down the buttons on the front of his white dress shirt, the solid muscle beneath it, to where it meets his trousers. The tips of her nails flirt across the front of his pants, and she is certain he’s stopped breathing; entire body still beneath her touch, lips frozen against her skin. Searching, searching, she finally hums triumphantly, fingers sliding over the holster on his hip at last. Hidden beneath his jacket, she fondles the butt of his gun. Slim; inconspicuous.

“Hmm,” she purrs, lips brushing the soft skin of his earlobe. “I thought it would be bigger.”

“I thought I told you to shut u—”

Din flinches as her other hand touches the side of his face, a finger pressing swiftly into his ear canal. His head tilts to the side, trying to evade her touch, but she’s already pulling away, using his surprise to slip around his body and move towards the stairs.

She smooths fingers over her hair, neatening the mussed strands and tucking them behind her ears. Straightens the neckline of her dress, ensures her holster is hidden. From where she stands, Meier is nowhere to be seen.

Din calls after her, a low warning. She doesn’t look back, gripping the railing of the staircase as she begins her descent. The gala is in full swing, guests dancing and talking in every direction. A six-piece band performs a playful jazz song from the stage.

“There is no need to shout,” Cain murmurs, smiling when she hears a sharp intake of breath through the earpiece.

She doesn’t know if he follows her down. Keeps her gaze trained forward as she accepts another glass of champagne from another man with another tray. Drinks it this time, thick hurried gulps that wet the skin beside her lips and soften the rough scratch in her throat. She wanders, looking for the man she came here for, and in time she ends up at the bar.

“A vodka martini,” she tells the barman, slipping onto one of the plush highchairs at the counter. “Dirty.”

The blonde man grips a clear glass bottle from his station and asks, “Shaken or stirred?”

She waves a hand, unbothered. “Dealer’s choice.”

He’s short with thick hair and a reddish hue to his beard. Handsome enough. She watches him with a light curiosity as he finishes making someone else’s drink.

It doesn’t take long before Din Djarin slips onto the seat beside her, suit jacket straightened out, not a single curl out of place, and orders a cosmopolitan.

The barman pulls two frosted coup glasses from beneath the bar and Cain arches an eyebrow at her companion.

“You’ve a sweet tooth, Monsieur Djarin?”

“It seems that way,” he murmurs, turning on his stool to face her.

Brown eyes assess her face in this new lighting, pupils flicking across everything he can see. His hand reaches across the bar and peels a small square napkin from a pile. Slides it across the wooden countertop.

“Wipe your nose.”

She swipes the material beneath her nostrils and spies a small blot of blood on the fabric, crumpling it in her fist with a saccharine smile.

“In Germany long?” he asks casually, nodding at the bartender when he places their cocktails on the counter.

“As long as it takes.” She wraps her fingers around the stem of a chilled glass, dragging it closer. “And it shouldn’t take long.”

He takes a lengthy sip, draining half the glass in seconds, and his eyes slip closed as the alcohol hits his tongue. Cain watches his throat move as he swallows and crosses her legs tighter on the stool. Feels her gun holster dig into the soft flesh there and welcomes the distraction.

“Alone?”

He eyes her for a second, gaze momentarily dropping to the low cut of her neckline, the swooping curve of her shoulder. “I was.”

“Well,” she holds out her glass to him. “It’s an honour.”

A beat passes as he contemplates her—her words, her steadfast gaze—and then he knocks the rim of his glass gently against hers.

“I’d apologise for upstairs,” he smiles faintly, posture loosening. “But I’m sure you understand.”

“There is no need,” she agrees easily, taking her first sip. Cool vodka slips down her throat and she allows a pleased purr to fall from her lips. “Tempers are frayed. Patience is short. What’s a little scuffle between friends, hmm?”

He smirks at that, a miniscule upward twitch of his lip. Friends.

“You know, I’ve heard the stories about you,” he tells her.

His suit jacket is well tailored, she notices. Tight around those broad shoulders of his, hemmed perfectly around his wrists to reveal crisp white sleeves and silver cufflinks.

“Is that so?”

He nods. “Cain, the femme fatale.”

“Mm,” she smirks, tracing a finger around the rim of her glass. He watches the sharp point of her red nail ping against the coup. Glances down to her toenails peeking past the tip of her heels; the same colour. She wiggles them for him, and he looks up.

“Then it appears there are equally silly tales about the both of us, non?”

“Do tell.”

Her grin broadens, something like excitement splicing through her veins. “Well, I had wondered if it were true. That you have your own little… catchphrase.”

A low scoff rumbles from his chest, and his stare cuts to where the bartender stands, mixing a drink only a few feet away. Across the room, one of the musicians onstage starts up a winding piano solo. Sparse and melodic to start, he sprinkles his fingers against highest keys on the piano, and Cain focuses on keeping her gaze on Din. She never did care for jazz.

“Do you say it every time?” she teases in a whisper, eyes lit up with mocking glee. “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in co—”

“Stop.”

Din’s voice is harsh, a little too loud for the quiet space by the bar. The word cuts through the soft music and has a few guests glancing in their direction. Cain laughs, unperturbed by the sudden attention, and plucks an olive out of her drink. A saxophonist joins in with the pianist, and he relaxes once more. Leans into this little game of hers.

“Don’t be a fool,” he softens, reaching over to tuck a short strand of hair behind her ear. His thumb brushes the curve of her jaw as he pulls away and she fights the shiver that trips its way down her spine. “Not every time.”

She laughs again, quietly eyeing the length of his fingers as his picks up his glass. His knuckles are thick. Warm blue veins spiderweb across the back of his hand, disappearing beneath his shirt. If she tries hard enough, she can still remember how it felt to have that hand pressed against her throat, squeezing.

“And what else do they tell you about me?” she licks her lips, elbow on the bar, leaning forward to rest her chin in the palm of her hand. Eager – hungry.

“I know you’re an orphan.” He is stoic as he says it; as if unphased, uninterested. But Cain’s eyebrows lift, delighted.

“Then it must be true of you too,” she posits slyly, left eyelid dropping in a wink. “No one is more eager to accuse another of being an orphan… unless they themselves are one also.”

He ignores that, though she can see the way his weight shifts in the seat and the muscle in his jaw twitches.

“A Valkyrie.”

“Common knowledge in our line of work.”

“You’re from Paris.”

“An easy guess,” she leans back, bored.

“Your first name is Nikita,” Din says then, a teasing lilt to his voice. She considers that he may enjoy this game just as much as she does.

And that makes her pause. She lifts her glass and laughs against the rim, a soft tinkling sound that rings in his ears and has every man in earshot turning to look at her.

“You watch too many films,” she swallows with a smirk. “Think French, Monsieur Djarin.”

He ponders it for a moment, lips pursed softly, gaze darting somewhere over her shoulder and then back to her face. Takes a sip of his laughably pink cocktail and licks the residue from his lips, savouring every drop.

“Camille.”

“Oh,” she rolls her eyes, fighting back a genuine smile now. “I know you can do better than that.”

It’s his turn to wink now, and for one fleeting moment she feels oddly at peace with the idea of spending the rest of her evening at the bar with Din Djarin. A stranger, yes, but a little less so than the others that crowd the room.

In a career so harsh, characterised by its solitude, its violence, Cain is unaccustomed to the feeling of being seen like this. She knows unfamiliarity and discomfort and pain like the back of her hand. Is no stranger to a man’s grip around her throat, her life in his hands. But not this… this twinkle of implicit understanding that she can see in his eyes. Those endless brown eyes that say we are not so different, you and I.

Despite the bloodied napkin in her lap and the ache in her jaw, it’s enough to loosen her shoulders; to set her at ease.

But then he turns to stare pointedly over her shoulder, and she snaps out of it. Twisting around on the stool, Cain follows his gaze until she spots Meier across the room. He stands with a few others, shoulders back, eyes bright. Perfectly oblivious.

The barman slips to the other end of the counter, serving a tall gentleman, and Cain lowers her voice.

“What does the Guild want with Ulrich Meier?”

Din takes a sip of his drink. Keeps his eyes to the right, glossing casually over guests, the band, and then back to the asset.

“Information,” he says finally—carefully. “He’s of no use to us dead.”

She hums quietly, plucking an olive from her drink. Eats it slowly, allowing the briny taste to wash over her tongue as she watches him. When he doesn’t speak again, she squints, unimpressed.

“Are you not going to ask me the same question?”

An amused sound escapes his mouth, and he meets her eye again.

“You want Meier dead,” he muses simply. “But why so abruptly? When there is so much to be gained from taking him in.”

“That is not an option for us.”

“Why?” His voice takes on a harsher quality now, eyes narrowing. Mistrust.

“Did you know that name Ulrich,” Cain murmurs, leaning forward to avoid any listening ears. “Comes from the Old High German name Uodalrich? Uodal meaning heritage. Rich meaning king; ruler.”

Din Djarin says nothing.

“Did you do your research before coming to Berlin?”

“Yes.”

“Then you understand that Monsieur Meier is not simply an arms dealer.”

A beat of silence. His fingers tighten around the stem of his glass. “Yes.”

“He took his name personally, you see.” Her eyes float back to Meier. “Held it in his slimy little hands as a baby and said Oui Maman, I will rule. I will rule the desires of weaker men, and bring nightmares unto any woman that I can get these two hands on.”

“This is about revenge.”

“This is about justice,” Cain snaps, that calm façade slipping for a second. No more games. Din’s spine straightens. “Have you ever spoken to a human trafficking victim?”

He takes another sip of his drink and does not respond. She does her best not to remember the photos from her briefing. Not to remember the countless interviews, witness statements, and obituaries she’d had to paw through before her flight.

“Your silence is very telling,” she smiles, that easy composure returning. “But I trust that you understand my position now. Ulrich Meier will be of no help to your organisation after this evening.”

“Cain—”

“Because,” she continues easily. “When I leave this building, he will no longer be able to speak. And if you wish to get in my way… then I am afraid the same fate will befall you, Monsieur Djarin.”

A soft announcement sounds through the speakers, and they turn their heads to listen. The Chancellor will be giving his speech in a few moments. That’s her cue.

“And Weber?” he asks, the words coming out stilted, rushed. “What do you think of him? He’s known for turning a blind eye to Meier’s dealings.”

She tilts her glass, swallowing the last of the icy liquid.

“I do my best,” she places it down on the counter with a soft clink. “Not to think of men at all. Unless it is imperative to my mission.”

“And yet you’ve thought of me,” Din asserts, gaze heavy. His eyes slip down, just long enough for her to notice the way he stares at her mouth, before his eyes return to hers. “You know me. Enough to recognise my face in a second.”

“As I said,” Cain smiles, stepping down from her chair. “Imperative to my mission.”

He is still as she leans in and presses a soft kiss to his left cheek, and then to his right.

“Take care, Monsieur Djarin. I would like to see you live another day,” she says, slender hand coming up to the side of his face. Her finger taps the piece in his ear once, and she is not smiling anymore. “I’ll be in here if you need me.”

Cain coasts around the edge of the room, keeping her eyes to ground whenever an unfamiliar sets of eyes strays in her direction. Swipes a finger beneath her nose once or twice, checking to see if any blood has returned. And as Chancellor Weber makes his way towards the stage, she makes her way back upstairs, quietly hoping that Din does not follow her again.

Halfway up, a single word crackles through her ear piece.

“Amélie?”

Surprised, she grips the banister and almost turns around. But she can hear a woman speaking into a microphone in German, performing a plain and winding introduction for the Chancellor, and continues her ascent.

“Wrong.”

Reassuming her position on the balcony, shrouded in waves of those soft red velvet drapes, she watches Weber take his place on the stage. A hush falls over the crowd and her eyes move fast, landing easily on the thinning grey hair atop her target’s head. Every eye in the room is facing the stage. The Walther is thick and heavy in her palm as she ensures the silencer is correctly in place. Old fashioned indeed.

Cain’s breathing is calm, heart rate slow and measured as she raises the weapon and aims it at his head. And then, like a little ant crawling across her skin, she feels something shift. The air gets thicker, and a suddenly familiar shiver tickles its way down her spine.

Her eyes tick up and she pauses at the sight of Din on the opposite balcony railing. Almost hidden entirely by the shadows, pistol raised. And it is not pointed at Ulrich Meier, no… no it is pointed at her. And he is so handsome, even when he’s bluffing.

Grinning now, she lets the tip of her finger lightly caress the trigger. So gently, with no intention of doing any damage just yet. Some feeling akin to glee sparks up in her chest. Such excitement. The Chancellor’s voice fills the room, swelling from the speakers as he welcomes his guests.

Din’s face is placid, unimpressed, and then that honeyed voice drifts through her ear once more.

“Celine?”

Cain allows herself a brief laugh, eyes drifting back down to rest on the man she came here for. The target drapes an arm around his wife’s waist. She inhales deep, filling her lungs before letting the air spill from her nose. Calm, collected. All of it so easy for her.

“Wrong again.”

The Walther jerks in her hand, bullet flying silently through the air, and for a moment there is silence. Nobody moves.

And then Ulrich Meier’s wife releases a blood curdling scream, dropping to her knees and cradling what’s left of her husband’s head in her lap. Popping the silencer off her gun, Cain catches a glimpse of thick, dark matter across the woman’s chest, spilling down the bare skin of her arms, and then she is slipping away into the bathroom in search of that thin little window.

Back on the cobblestone street, sirens wail through the air, police cars and ambulances roaring past as she traipses away from the scene. A little flushed, a little exhilarated, she blends into a crowd of pedestrians, hidden in the shadows. She cuts across the road, avoiding traffic, and heads toward Unter den Linden, knowing it is safer to walk. Don’t be seen by a taxi driver, don’t be recognised, don’t—

“That was a clean shot.”

The words ring in her ear, clear as day.

Cain’s feet drag to a halt against the ground, shoulders stiffening. She turns, eyes assessing the busy pathway behind her, a parked car idling by the side of the road a few metres back. But she can’t see him anywhere. Countless unfamiliar faces wander by, jostling her shoulders as they pass, but he isn’t amongst them. He’s hiding somewhere, watching her from afar – playing his own little game now. Shivering against the cold, she turns and continues walking.

And then: “I thought I might follow you home.”

The words are so confident, so self-assured, and they send a rush of jagged heat blossoming between her thighs. Her heels clip against the ground, knees feeling a little weaker all of a sudden.

“Would you like that?” he asks, and she wishes she could see his face. Wants to see the desire burning in his eyes, the sharp line of his jaw as those words drift from his pink lips.

“Only if you can keep up.” A little breathless, the words form a soft cloud in the air in front of her face.

Din laughs, low and dark in her ear, but he doesn’t speak again.

She walks for a long time, ambling her way down dark streets, icy wind whipping at her hair for all of half an hour before she finally reaches the street of her hotel. And all the while, she spares quick little glances over her shoulders, trying to spot him in the shadows. Her clothes begin to feel too tight, too warm, despite the low temperature, and with every step her panties cling closer to her warm, wet skin.

The hotel doorman smiles tiredly at Cain as she approaches, holding the door open wide to welcome her inside. As her feet hit the entryway steps, his eyes flit over her shoulder.

“Ein freund von dir?” A friend of yours?

When she turns, she is quietly amazed to find Din there. Gait unhurried, only a few steps behind her. There’s an easy smile spread across his face. Hands tucked deep in his pockets; the top button of his shirt undone.

“Ja,” Cain murmurs, slipping inside.

Din nods to the doorman, following her in. “Guten Abend.” Good evening.

They do not speak as she leads him toward the elevator. Her numb fingers slide against the button with an upward pointing arrow, and together they wait. Heat radiates from his body, warming the skin of her back where he stands behind her, so close yet not touching her yet. Together they slip inside when the doors open.

She presses a button, the number twelve lighting up on the switchboard, and the doors glide closed.

Soft, tinny music plays in the elevator, and they stare at each other from either side of the small space. Din’s chest rises and falls with steady, measured breaths. He watches her and she watches the buttons on the wall, lighting up in turn as the two of them travel up, up, up.

Two floors below Cain’s, he speaks for the first time.

“Vivienne,” he says. “Final guess.”

Her eyes flash to him and she smiles, the skin beside her eyes pinching.

“It’s Remy,” she reveals at last, voice so soft, so forgiving now that her mission is complete.

“Remy,” he repeats. Rolls the r like she does, hums around the y. Sees how it tastes in his mouth and steps forward, saying it again, again. Remy, Remy, Remy, Remy Cain.

“Don’t wear it ou—”

His lips crush against hers, chest warm as he pushes her back back back into the wall. His hand flies up, cradling the back of her skull to protect it from the wall. Not a third time. Despite the softness of his hand, the way his fingers card gently through the short locks of her hair, his kiss is biting. A wet mess of clashing teeth and tongues as he works her jaw open, coaxing his way inside of her mouth. A rough exhale streams from his nostrils, warming the skin of her face. His breath tastes like Cointreau and lime, and she moans.

His hand slips up her thigh, trailing past that slit in her dress for the second time this evening, until his fingers are brushing against the front of her panties. Feeling the thick damp strip in the lace, the way the thin material clings to her centre.

“Fuck,” he exhales, and when he meets her eyes again his pupils are blown fat and black with desire. Moving fast, he tugs the gun from her holster. She pauses, eyes narrowing, but then he tucks it into the waistband at the back of his trousers, simply allowing space for his forearm to rest between her thighs.

The elevator thrums around them, stomachs dropping as the metal box takes them higher and higher through the building. A finger curls around the edge of her panties, dragging them to the side, and when he finally slides through her wet cunt she sighs into his mouth, every muscle in her body pulling taut and warm.

His touch is lax, almost taunting as he sucks her tongue into his mouth and traces a digit over the drooling mouth of her entrance, smearing it up to make a mess of her clit. When she moans he presses down; careful little circles there, messy figure eights, a sharp back and forth back and forth back and forth, trying to see what she likes best. And the second her eyes pinch shut, a low curse falling from her lips, the elevator dings.

His hand whips out, slamming against the red emergency stop button. The elevator jerks to an abrupt halt and then he’s on her again. Teeth at her collarbone, her neck, her jaw, fingers moving in a slick blur against her pussy. Her thighs splay apart, and she leans heavy against the wall, knees shaky, trusting him to keep her from falling to the ground.

“So fucking wet for me,” he murmurs, the words brimming with pride, and she trembles beneath his touch, needing more and needing it now.

“Inside,” she pants, lips parted and searching for his again. “Want your fingers inside me.”

Din swallows those words down, pressing two fingers inside of her with a groan. Remy gasps, bearing down on the weight of his fingers and shivering as he curls them inside of her. Stretching her out and grinding his knuckles against her entrance with every deep thrust.

“Yeah?” he goads, watchful eyes drinking in the way she moans for him, turning her face into her shoulder as if to hide how good it feels. “You like that, hm?”

Warm wetness pools out of her, dripping past his knuckles and onto the inside of her thighs. Obscene sounds fill the tiny space as he pumps in and out of her, and she catches herself glancing upward, searching for a security camera. She spots it in the corner just as he fits a third finger inside and grinds the heel of his palm against her clit, her mouth falling open with a rough groan. Her shoulders tilt forward, forehead knocking against his shoulder, and Din grunts, fucking her harder. His fingers never leave her wet clutch now, the tips of them persistently working against that soft spot at the top of her walls.

“Such a tight little cunt,” he’s saying, nipping at her earlobe, but the words blur and warble around the rushing in her ears. “Squeezing my fingers so good, you’re so good.”

She grips the back of his neck, squeezing desperately. Her jaw aches with the strain of hanging slack.

“Tell me,” he says roughly, growing impatient. Everything feels hot, too hot; the skin of her face against his shoulder, her chest, the sizzling tension coiling in her core.

“Close,” she chokes out. Din snakes his free arm around the back of her waist, steadying her loose-limbed frame between his body and the wall. “Just a little longe—ohhh, merde.”

He shifts then, the thick heft of his cock crushing against her thigh through their clothes. He presses a finger against her clit now. And that low rub, his calloused thumb paired with three thick fingers massaging into her, is enough to send her spilling over the edge.

A hoarse cry pries its way out of her throat, body shaking against his and he works her through it, still pressing down against the aching bundle of nerves at the top of her sex. She pulses around his fingers, everything pulling tight and wet around them as she comes. Teeth sink into the lapel of his jacket in an attempt to muffle her cries but his arm is dropping from her waist, hand coming up to grip her jaw and push her back.

“Let me hear it,” he purrs, voice like silk as it washes over the skin of her neck.

“Ohh,” she moans, uncaring now about the camera, about who will hear. Focusing wholly on his fingers on her face, her cunt, the way her entire world seems to shake within his grasp.

He holds her there, lets her shake and shiver beneath his touch until the ebbs of pleasure finally fade and she’s strong enough to stand on her own. Remy watches as he takes a small step backward, pressing one hand over the front of his trousers and three slick fingers past his lips to taste her come. Din’s eyes slip shut at the taste, lips pursing as he sucks the remnants of her from his skin. Flushed and awed by the intimacy of it, the depravity of it, she looks away.

Her fingers tremble against the button as she presses it, and the elevator shudders back to life around them. Another sharp ding rings out again, the doors sliding open within seconds.

A few paces down the hall, the key card slips easily against her door, and she presses it open, flushed as she steps inside and kicks off her heels. She discards them somewhere to the side, turning to watch him follow her in, toes sinking gratefully into the rough carpet beneath her feet.

The door slams shut behind him and he tears his jacket off, letting it drop to the floor as he makes his way further inside. And he looks so much more intimidating like this, she thinks. Domineering as he advances on her, the thick length of his cock evident against the front of his pants. Despite him aiming a gun at her less than an hour ago, despite the way he slunk through the shadows to follow her back here, this is the first time all evening that she’s felt eager to bend to his will, his desire. Her heart races, thudding heavily against her ribcage, and he grins wickedly at her, as if he can fucking hear it.

They collide in the middle of the room, slick swollen lips sliding against each other in a mess of harsh exhales and lewd smacking sounds. Her hands roam across the vast expanse of his chest, trailing down to cup him through his pants. He groans at the feeling, hips jerking forward, seeking more more more. He rips the gun from his holster and tosses it onto the bed, her Walther following shortly from the back of his waistband, and then his hands are on her too. Fat palms pawing at her body, gripping the meat of her ass and squeezing, trapping her against his chest so he can rut his cock against her stomach. Din grips the back of her head then, thumbs rough against the apples of her cheeks as his mouth devours hers.

Thick fingers drift from the ends of her hair down the nape of her neck, the curve of her spine, until they slip beneath the back of her dress. Distracting her with his kiss, greedy and lustful and dominating – she doesn’t notice his curious fingers until they’re curling around the fabric and ripping. Remy staggers backwards with the force of it, gripping his neck. He snarls into her mouth, following her to the ground as she falls. The breath rushes from her lungs and her tailbone aches from how she lands but she doesn’t care. Doesn’t even care when Din straddles her waist, chest heaving, and continues to tear satin and silk from her body. The black material practically shreds in his hands. So thin and delicate, the threads fall apart with every twist, every yank, until he’s prying the ruined dress away and throwing it towards the bed.

Remy’s fingers work hastily to undo the buttons on his shirt, but just as she reaches the fourth one, he’s gripping her hands, pinning them above her head. Din’s free hand works open his belt, the button and zip on his trousers, and then he’s dragging them down his legs, freeing the thick weight of his cock. She gasps, eyeing the angry red tip hungrily. He’s thick and long and leaking against the white material of his shirt. Her hands push against his and she grunts when he simply tightens his grasp on her, the friction of the coarse carpet harsh against her skin.

“I let you have your way back there,” Din says, eyes blazing. “Are you gonna let me have mine now?”

Her body stills, wholly captivated beneath the heat of his gaze, the weight of his thighs over her hips.

“Yes,” she exhales, mind a blur, limbs still loose and heavy from her orgasm. “Yes, Din, just fuck me.”

“The Guild are gonna have my fucking head for this,” he mutters, fingers falling from her hands to rest heavily at the waistband of her panties.

Remy isn’t sure if he’s talking about Meier or her, but she doesn’t fucking care. What happens to Din after tonight is not her problem.

He toys with her for a moment, tickling the skin around her navel, above the band of her panties, before his fingers hook around it and—snap. She flinches as the material is torn away, her skin pinching beneath the lace.

She stares up at him, clad in nothing but the pale material of her bra now. He watches the way her chest heaves beneath it, nipples painfully stiff against the thin lace.

“It was the right thing to do.”

“I know,” he snaps angrily. He shifts back, moving down her body until he can pry her legs from between his, spreading them open on the carpet to display her glistening cunt to him. The sight seems to stem his anger a little, jaw going loose as he gazes down at the shiny swollen mess of her.

A thick thumb swipes through her folds, pinching one of them back to hold her open for him to ogle at.

“Such a pretty little cunt,” he tuts under his breath, thumbing at the flesh between her clit and her hole.

Her face heats, heart stuttering in her chest a little at this feeling of exposure. Can feel the intensity of his stare practically inside of her the longer he looks, waiting for something.

“So take it,” she says finally, patience thinning.

She fists his shirt in her hands and tugs him forward, breath hitching when he grips his cock and jerks it slowly, smearing her wetness down the length of it before notching his tip at her entrance.

He pushes inside of her in one fell swoop, hardly giving her a moment to adjust to the fat girth of his tip before he’s pressing deeper. Lips on lips, sucking the breath from her lungs, their kiss vibrates with the strength of his groan. It tastes like relief, like understanding. And for a moment it’s just that. The thick weight of him seated inside of her, his chest against hers as they kiss lazily, sloppily, smearing spit across each other faces, tasting beneath tongues, behind teeth.

“So fucking tight,” Din bites out, forehead heavy against hers.

“Mm,” she whines, face screwed up.

A dull burn ricochets through her abdomen, the stretch more than she’s taken in a while. Remy wills herself to relax, but desire has her core tightening around him, sucking him in further and further until the coarse hairs at his base are flush against her clit and there’s nothing more to take. She loops a leg around his waist and ruts up against him, and anything soft about him vanishes.

Din’s thrusts are punishing. Hard and fast, the weight of his hips rocking her into the ground over and over, until she can feel carpet burns forming at the base of her spine, the soft skin of her ass. Every slick pass of the heft of his cock punches the air from her lungs and has her eyelids fluttering.

It’s greedy, the way he fucks her. Like he’s had it before, perhaps in a past life, and been deprived of her touch for years. He fucks her like he misses her. Like he loves her or hates her or something dark and grotesque in between the two emotions. Like if this were the last thing he ever got to do in this lifetime, then he was going to do it right.

So she says, “Harder,” and he grits his teeth, fucking her into the carpet until she’s sure there’ll be littles scrapes and bruises on her back in the morning.

The tip of his cock brushes near to the end of her, and every little nudge there has her gasping in an intoxicating medley of pain and pleasure.

“There?”

“Yes,” she begs. “Fucking—yes.”

Din works her open like it’s his fucking job. Settles on his knees and drags her ass up onto his thighs, splitting her open with every brutal thrust, hands fitted over her waist in a vice.

Up close like this she can see past the collar of his shirt. Can see thick raised lines on his skin, pink and purple scars beneath his collarbones. She reaches up and lays a hand there, feels his heart jack hammering against the marred skin, and moans his name. Din, Din, Din.

And he likes that. Releases an almost pained moan at the sound of his name on her lips, leaning down to attach his mouth to her neck. He bites and sucks and kisses, leaving a trail of deep dark marks from the hollow of her throat to the hinge of her jaw.

“That’s it,” he snarls into her skin, hand lowering to press down above her mound, and that mixed with the sound of his voice makes a fresh load of slick gush out of her. Pushes her deeper into this depraved, endless pit of pleasure he’s raining down upon her.

He tells her again, say it again, and she cries out Din, head lolling back against the floor.

Something fierce begins to brew inside of her. A bright white twisting feeling that frays and sparks like a live wire, stoked by the speed of his movement, the firm press of his hand against her lower stomach. And just as she thinks she’s there, almost there, so close, a shrill ringing comes from the sofa to their left.

Din’s hips stutter against hers, head snapping to the side to pinpoint where the interruption emanates from. A little pink phone rings and rings, the sound piercing through her ears and setting her teeth on edge. She taps his chest quickly, urging him back. He frowns, opens his mouth to tell her no, tell her ignore it, but she pushes him harder, again and again until he slips out of her with a haggard moan.

He grips her waist and turns their bodies, landing on his back with a thud. Eyes trained on his face, the dark red blush on his cheeks, his swollen mouth, she reaches out blindly, snatching the phone from the receiver and putting it to her ear.

“Allo?” Remy breathes, eyebrows pinching together as she sinks down onto his cock, free hand splayed on his stomach. “Bonjour.”

He props himself up in a seated position, resting back on one hand while the other comes up to grope at her chest. Cocky asshole. But her eyes glaze over as she takes in the tanned skin that peeks out of his shirt again, the soft smattering of hair between his pecks. Legs spread out wide on the carpet, he watches her bounce slowly on his cock, nodding in encouragement but careful not to speak, lest he be heard down the line by her handler.

At this angle his tip presses into her g-spot with every movement. It only takes a moment for that low burn to start up again in the base of her stomach. Her mouth is open wide, ragged breaths spilling from her lips as she listens to the words being spoken down the line.

She says, “Ouais, c’est fait.” Yeah, it’s done.

Din’s fingers flex around the cup of her bra, tugging down the fabric to let one of her tits spill out. He sighs heavily, leaning forward to latch his mouth onto the skin there. Lathing hot, messy kisses against her sternum, her nipple, and then grazing his teeth over the sensitive bud. She trembles against him, hand coming up to grip the back of his head and hold his face there. He sucks it into his mouth, pulls it taut between his lips before letting it slip out with a wet pop.

“À bientôt.” See you soon.

She hangs up the phone with a rough clang, and then her mouth is seeking his out again. Teeth clash and she moans at the sharp pain, uncaring. Din’s grip on her waist tightens and he plants his feet on the carpet, fucking up into her at a break-neck pace. She cries into his mouth, a harsh animalistic sound, and her stomach is pulling tight, cramping up. Her cunt locks down around him, and when she comes it’s a low throb of a feeling. A deep swooping ache that spills from her core and spreads out through her thighs, her stomach, until her body is jerking and twitching above him.

“Fuck yes,” he grits out, white teeth flashing in her hazy vision. He doesn’t give out, spitting a mess of that’s it, fucking give it to me as her pussy flutters and drools around his cock. Her hips roll and stutter over his, the muscles in her stomach twitching beneath the skin, and Din swears under his breath. Her vision whites out, throat hoarse and head pounding as she succumbs to the pleasure. And he feeds off it.

“God, look at you,” he grunts, prolonging that low burn in her gut the longer he fucks into that softest warmest little spot. “Made to take this cock.”

“Say it,” he rasps urgently, eyes rolling back when her hand grips his throat for purchase, nails digging sharply into the skin over his thrumming carotid. “Say you fucking want it.”

“I want it,” she moans, back arching, knees on fire where they slide against the carpet at his sides. “Want your come, Din, fuck—fuck, give it to me, give it to me.”

His body practically vibrates as he comes. A thousand tiny little twitches and spasms rocking through this frame, the muscles in his thick thighs turning to tense stone beneath her. A gravelly shout falls from his lips, cock kicking hot and hard against her walls until she feels his spend begin to seep out of her around his length and pool around his base.

It’s almost frantic, the way his hands clutch at her body, clinging to any part of her that he can. And when she thinks he might pull her closer, press himself deeper to keep painting the inside of her walls, he pushes her away, dragging himself from her clutch just to grip his length in a tight fist.

He strokes himself in tight wet movements, a few final weak spurts of his come shooting up to land over her mound and the swollen lips of her pussy. And only when he’s done, spent cock beginning to soften in his palm, does he pull her down a little. Resting wet hands over the base of her spine to feel the way she shivers, body shuddering its way through the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Remy’s chest expands with stilted, ragged gasps for air, trying desperately to fill her lungs as she folds against his hot thick frame, exhausted.

And after a few moments the foggy, erotic blur that held her mind in a vice for the past few hours slowly begins to lift. Din’s hand is on the back of her thigh, fingers splayed, tickling the skin there, and the weight of it suddenly itches. Reality drifts back in and it feels heavy on her shoulders. The clock beside the hotel bed reads 9:12 – her flight out of Berlin leaves in two hours.

His hand drifts up her back, nudging her down to rest her head against his chest. Her body aches suddenly; dull pains popping up in her neck, her jaw, her hips. She remembers the way it felt to have his palm strike her chin and almost smiles.

A metre away, her suitcase lies spread open on the floor. Clothes and lingerie and a gun peek out of the red trunk. She can see two passports beside it, stacked neatly atop one another. And she knows that his hotel room can’t look that dissimilar from his own, but it feels too much now. As their breathing starts to even out, vision swinging back into focus, this level of intimacy – having another person, even a colleague of sorts – seeing behind the scenes of what after looks like for her… it feels like a splinter in the tip of her finger. A sharp sting that won’t go away. Wrong.

Remy rests her chin against his collarbone and glances up at him. Din’s eyes are closed, lips parted as soft breaths puff out from between them. He looks tired – almost as tired as she feels.

“I’m going to shower,” she tells him, fingers brushing curls back off his forehead. His eyes are soft, warm as they open to watches her stand. Too much, that look in his eyes. Too close. “Be gone when I come out, okay?”

Remy turns, back to him as she grips the handle of the ensuite door, and for a moment she pauses. Feels the weight of the silence between them, the heady scent of sweat and come in the air, on her skin, and glances over her shoulder. Looks between him spread out on the floor and her things dotted across the room. An empty martini glass lying on its side. The blush-coloured rotary phone on the hotel sofa. Passports with different names, birth dates, home countries, addresses, and her face. She knows that has to be firm now.

“Don’t give me a reason to kill you, mon chére.” My darling.

Din’s lips curl up into a smile and his eyes drift up to stare at the ceiling. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

She slips inside the bathroom and pulls the door almost closed behind her. Twists a nozzle until water is beating down against the floor of the shower and steam begins to fill the room. Silently, she pries open a cabinet and slips her hand beneath the sink, feeling around until her fingers grasp the pistol strapped there.

Bare skin of her back flush to the wall, thighs still wet with come and sweat, she peers out through the crack in the door. Still ajar, she can see him past the wooden frame. Sat on the edge of the bed with his back to her, looping his belt through the waist of his trousers. With her eyes trained on the soft skin of his neck, on messy curls, on shoulder blades and biceps that bulge out against the thin material of his dress shirt – she leads a silencer into place over the mouth of her gun. A rhythmic repetition, the exact same as earlier. She doesn’t even need to look down. Pin meet groove, twist, twist, twist.

Din slips his arms inside the suit jacket, elbows bending as he smooths his palms along the front of it. She holds her breath as he turns, as he takes three steps toward the hotel room door, and then—pauses. Hand on the doorhandle, he does not move.

Remy’s finger rests featherlight on the trigger.

She is calm. What happens next is his choice.

And he must know this because he does not turn around. Does not try to catch one last look at her. His fingers curl around the handle and he slips out the door, closing it was a soft click behind him. The air in the room rushes to fill his sudden absence.

Only when there is silence does she exhale, dropping the pistol onto the marble countertop beside the sink. And she smiles as she slinks beneath the hot spray of the shower head, letting it rush over the crown of her skull and drench her hair.

Her scalp stings and pink water swirls in the drain, blood slipping from a little cut on the back of her head. She pays it little mind, tilting her chin up so the scalding water hits her face too, stripping away a thick layer of sweat and blood and secrets from her skin. The silence stretches, and her smile grows. He does not come back.

Smart choice, Din Djarin.

thank you so much for reading! x

#i know the fire brigade probably gets called when you hit the emergency stop in an elevator #but this is a fantasy land where i get to make the rules #my writing #fic: raising cain #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin au fanfic #din djarin x ofc #din djarin smut #din djarin fic

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kalliyen · 1 year

Text

Seatmate Sweetness

Pairing: 4nemo Boys x GN!Reader (seperate)

Featuring: Venti, Xiao, Heizou, Kazuha, Wanderer

Genre: Fluff, Crack, teasing?? is that a genre idk, school au, modern au

Summary: Seatmates who have a sweet secret crush on you ;)

Reader’s Pronouns: Not specified

Warning: this is gonna be shit cause i haven’t written i so long bye 😘 🤾‍♀️

Disclaimer: ⚠️ ONLY A WORK OF FICTION!

♯ Venti !

Venti as a seatmate would be….interesting to say the least

he’s that kid who’s always late even if he lives literally just across the school

he also has this tendency to sleep in class, when he finds the topic boring

which is, every topic in every subject

but when your homeroom adviser changed the seating arrangements and you were assigned to sit next to him, he started changing

he noticed that you were a very precise person. always at class on time very smart responsible the whole smart kid shebang yk

and when YOU were assigned to seat beside him, you were dreading it. great, now someone was just going to get in the way of your studies.

a few weeks go bye and venti is still the same as ever, slacking off, sleeping in class, and one day he even drooled a bit on your paper, which finally made you snap

luckily there wasn’t any teacher in class at the moment to witness you snapping

let’s just say his cheek was red for the whole day, and not in a good way.

he told his friends about it, which they said he deserved, which made him seethe even more

at night he thought about it, how you would focus in class, how your hair would cover you face when you double checking your notes

you looked adorable while doing it, he thought. now his face got even more red, now this time out of embarrassment

how could he realize he liked you after you slapped him infront of the class? was it a kink or something?

the next day, you apologize to him, which he didn’t even notice or listen to you for that matter, focused on your lips rather than what was coming out of it.

“venti? hello? are you listening?” you say waving your hand around his face

“i know how you can make it up to me y/n” venti starts, “really? what is it?” you say confused, tilting your head to the side

“we could go on a date together!” now both of your cheeks were a rosy pink

♯ Xiao

now xiao here was the silent smart type as we all know, while you were the giddy type who couldn’t seem to stay in your seat

he didn’t really mind it to be honest, you rarely talked to each other. but there was an understanding that you both respected each other’s space.

when your history teacher, mr. zhongli, assigned you together for an assignment, you didn’t really mind. xiao was smart and hot, from what you could tell he was also somewhat kind in his own peculiar way

you worked on it together for the rest of the period, and xiao couldn’t help but notice his heart beating even faster than it did before. it always beated quickly when you were around, which made him feel confuse inside.

after class, he asked his father figure mr. zhongli (wow who would’ve thought i did this)

“i don’t know sir, whenever im near them my heart beats 10 miles an hour, i don’t know if this is a good or bad feeling sir, perhaps whenever im close to them i might meet my demise? is this a sign that something bad will happen if i go near them? should i stay away from them? but i don’t want to stay away from them, their very kind and sweet, albeit sometimes loud, and sometimes i-“

zhongli cuts off xiao before he can utter another word, zhongli comes to the conclusion that his son was very down bad for you.

“it seems that you have developed romantic feelings for y/n. and might i add xiao, i do approve of this liking towards them, they are a very caring and sweet person indeed. this is merely a suggestion, but why don’t you tell them how they make you feel? the school festival is about to commence soon, that would be a good opportunity wouldn’t it?”

xiao thought about it for a minute, yes it was a good idea. but how will he ask you?

zhongli suggests to ask you by word, or if xiao is too nervous then by letter, xiao decides on the latter part.

he goes home that day, on his desk, pen in hand and staring at the paper.

he has so much to say and at the same time, nothing at all. he wants to tell you everything and nothing at the same time. is this what love feels like?

finally after what felt like hours, he’s finished his letter to you, making sure it looks presentable, because you only deserve the best.

he makes sure to wake up extra early the next morning, and make it to school before you do

he places the letter on your desk, and waits for you, anxiously replaying all the possibilities in his head

lucky for him, the outcome he was expecting most, came to fruition

♯ Heizou

heizou here is the diligent yet flirty president of your class. while you were quiet and kept mostly to yourself, choosing to draw in your sketchbook rather than converse with anyone.

it’s not like you didn’t have friends, you just didn’t like talking much.

since you sit on the front beside heizou, your often bombarded with the amount of paper he has piled on his desk because of yhe obscene homeworks the teachers assign you.

it kinda bothers you a bit when you barely have any room to put your things on your side of the desk but you don’t say anything, because every morning heizou sits at his side of the desk you can see his baggy eyes and unkempt hair which makes him 10x more attractive in your opinion. but he didn’t need to know that

during another one of his stress sessions you seem him struggling with a particular project in a subject you were quite good at.

but of course heizou didn’t have any balls to ask anyone for help, having the mindset of “because i am the president, i shan’t let anyone see any weakness.” (which was total bullshit btw)

you meekly tapped his shoulder which made his face bolt directly to you, way closer than he was intending

you offer your help, saying he clearly needed it and at this point heizou doesn’t have the energy to decline, so he listens to you explain the assignment in full detail, taking note how your eyes seems to glint in the sunlight and how your soft hands brushed his slightly calloused ones

he may or may not go to you when there’s an assignment on purpose, even if he fully understands the concept.

he thinks it’s a win win, he can spend more time with you and complete his tasks

(even if he’s just staring at you 99% of the time)

♯ Kazuha

let’s be real this boy is rarely in school

but when he is at school, he’s just sleeping most of the time

when the teachers try to corner him with a question when they catch him dozing off, he manages to answer them correctly

they ignore him after that LMAOOOOO

but when you, transfer to his school in the middle of the year and get assigned next to him, he starts to take a liking to you

you’d make notes for him in class while he sleeps, thinking he had a rough night before, which he finds really nice and so adorable

of course in return, he helps you with concepts you don’t understand or if you’re having trouble understanding japanese

he doesn’t know how he ended up in this situation but right now your in his home, speaking to his moms and having dinner with them

it’s not like he didn’t like that you were at his home, quite the opposite frankly but it turns out that his mothers find out about his little crush on you

all evening his mothers have been indirectly teasing him, even going as far as almost revealing his crush on you

after dinner was finally over, he takes you to his room (his moms gave him teasing winks that made his face all red) and showed you all the memorabilia he’s acquired from his adventures with his moms

you found them so amazing, and when you look back at him he’s stepping forward to you which makes you freeze in place, despite feeling a quick warmth on your lips

your at his house even more often after that event ;)

♯ Wanderer

absolutely HATES GOING TO SCHOOL

but is one of the top students 🤷‍♂️

his aunt makes him go saying that learning is an essential part at life

“auntie that’s bs i don’t-“ he gets slapped in the face

goes to school cause he didn’t wanna get spanked in the face again LMAOOAOAOA

as his deskmate he actually really really likes you, even more than a deskmate actually

but boy has no way to tell you

sometimes he sees that you have nothing to eat for lunch so he gives you his “extra” saying that he doesn’t want you to faint in class, making him take you to the nurse’s office

nahida always wonders why her nephew stays up so late to make food for 2 people, but she doesn’t push the subject further

you thought it was really sweet of him, and his cooking was amazing! why would people say that he’s mean and an arrogant bastard? (he is tho just not to you lol)

you wanna repay him with something, so you decide to make some brownies for him, not knowing he despises sweets

you stay up all night, wanting to make them as perfect as the food he gives you

you pack it in a cute lil bento with a lil thank you note sticked to it and get to bad, excited of what his reaction will be to the pastry you’ve made him

the next do you can clearly see the disinterest in his face when he sees your brownies (he thinks he’s hiding it well he’s really not) which makes you feel really bad

“do you not like them? i can make something else for you, i just wanted to return the favor since you always give me your extra lunch, i’m sorry if this isn’t what you like”

his face goes IMMEDIATELY red with embarrassment, mostly at himself because of how a dumbass he is 💀

“i didn’t mean it with i’ll intent y/n, it’s just that i’m not really fond of sweets, but i would like to try one” he responds an idea popping into his head

“really? what is it? i’ll make it for you! to make up for these ones you don’t like, just give me the recipe and-“ you get cut off by him hooking his fingers under your chin

“you”

——————

a/n: bye this is so cringe if my friends see this they will never let me live this down

if your my friend irl PLEASE RESPECTFULLY STFU 😂😂😂

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sunnitheapollokid · 16 days

Text

💌┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。MY BOYFRIEND IS MY WALLET

leo valdez x fem!reader, mortal au. <3 + leo obsessing over lego sets blurb.

📬 sunni’s notes : on babies, when i started writing this austin started playing WHY IS THAT SO FUNNY LMFAAAOOO did ur boots stop working!! did ur truck break down 😖 anyways,, LEO WOULD SPOIL THEIR PARTNER!! THERE! I SAID IT!! i have way too many drafts rn. it’s actually really bad. besides that, have fun with this!! because every girl deserves to have a bf / gf who pays for everything like the princess they are. guys send me req’s im actually bored out of my mind </3 i’m in the makings of a percy fic too! but anyways, sunkisses!! mwuah!

sitting in her boyfriend’s car’s passanger seat, she hummed peacefully to the music played on the aux. leo had his hand on her thigh while he drove, “babe.” he patted her lightly, turning to the corner.

“yeah?” she coo’d. “we’re here.” she gasped, the flea market looking like absolute treasure to her as her [eye color] eyes lit up. leo snickered at the girl’s demeanor before parking at an open spot. about to get out, leo slammed her back in her seat, getting out, he jumped over his car’s hood and opened the door for (name) with no sweat.

(name) cackled at his dramatic antics, taking his hand as she stepped out. both of their outfits meshed so well together, (name) was all giddy. especially leo. “the sun’s so pretty!!” you coo’d. “you’re prettier.” he winked, grabbing his cap from the seat and placing it on his curly-head.

“yuck.” she replied, he cackled. “hey!! you’re suppose to compliment me back ‘oh leo, my sweet angel of a boyfriend, you are so much prettier.’” he mocked her as she interwined their hands. rolling her eyes affectionately, (name) gave him a kiss on the cheek, “maybe i’ll have to sweet talk you into buying me stuff.”

leo raised his brows, “baby, you just need to show up look pretty and bring your bright personality and i’ll buy the whole goddamn world for you.”

she pinched his cheeks, “whatever hot stuff.”

the flea market was so open, and the weather was a good breezy-kind. it was also not too crowded, so it was easy to walk through.

leo had this habit of keeping his hands in his girlfriend’s, feeling like she’ll slip away if he didn’t hold her hand.

but, upon roaming the flea market, (name) had seperated from leo, after he himself got distracted by the re-sold lego sets. she was keeping herself busy with the jewelry since she knew he’d realize he’d lost her hand and go look for her. from beaded bracelets and gold rings, god, she was entranced.

she had her share of buying jewelry, but since leo was good with metals, he usually made her rings. “those rings are beautiful dear.” the lady from the other side of the stall complimented with a beaming smile. shyly tucking her hair away, “thank you!! my boyfriend made them.” the lady coo’d, taking her hand to inspect the four rings on her right hand.

“so well made. i can feel the love through these.” she caressed the [silver/gold] rings. “oh yeah, lots of love.” leo stood beside her, sending her a small wink. surprised that he had found her that quickly, she sent him a surprised smile.

the lady lifted her gaze and smiled at the two. “what an adorable couple!!” she glistened. (name) could feel the heat rise to her cheeks and ears.

“thank you so much.” leo beamed, placing his warm hand on her back, the other hand holding a plastic bag of another addition to his lego obsession.

he leaned in to whisper in her ear, “did you want something mami?” she glanced back at the stall’s selection, finally finding a sun ring, perfectly fitting your pinky. she raised the ring to look at it under the sunlight, and it shimmered like glitter.

his expressions softened, a soft laugh escaping his lips, “we’ll get that.” he pulled his wallet out of his pocket. “wh—what no!! leo, i’ll pay.” she took her own wallet out of her sling bag. “whAT. ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT.” leo, trying to give his card to the lady, who found the whole situation amusing, got knocked off by his girlfriend by the hip.

about to hand her card, leo was swift enough to knock her just the same and attempted to pay for it again. “leo!” she shoved him away with her hand on his face and reached for the lady’s open hands. leo shoved her again by the waist, the bag in his hands crinkling, “cariño— i— got— it!” struggling with her grip on leo, he finally managed to pay for it with a ding!

she sighed, leo taking her hand and slipping the ring in. “look! it fits so well.” he kissed the side of her eyes. “you’re so annoying.” she kid, “ah, i truly try my love.” he replied, cocky. “you didn’t have to do that, i could’ve paid.” (name) spoke softly, admiring the ring on her finger. “come on. i told you i’d buy you the whole world if i could.”

she giggled softly, “what’d you get this time?” she glanced at the bag in his hand. leo’s mouth agape open, pulling the dragon lego set out of the bag. “IT’S A DRAGON!!” he exclaimed excitedly, you cackled at how cute he was about this whole lego set obsession.

“maybe i’ll name him festus.” she kissed his cheek, “i think you should too.” his eyes lit up, “oh and these too!” he took out the daffodil lego set, “i thought you’d might like them.”

she smiled at the flower lego set he had handed her, “aw, leo. thank you handsome.”

—

“i think it goes in there honey.”

“that’s what she said.” she slapped his arm at the sex joke, a cackle escaping his lips while she attempted to hold in her giggles. “just put it in leo— AND DON’T YOU DARE MAKE A COMMENT ON THAT!” leo cackled again, throwing his head back.

he carefully placed the lego piece on top of the other. they we’re halfway done with the set, half of the dragon’s body already finished. leo had his curls hanged over his head, his tongue sticking out when he’s concentrated— a habit that made (name)’s heart patter.

“i’m never finishing this.” he leaned back to the couch, sighing out of frustration. “oh c’mon leo! you gotta finish it! you’re the mechanic, short-attention, and oh so cute.” you complimented to get his adrenaline back up, “yup. finishing it. whatever you say mami.”

she laughed as he sat back up and got back to work. “that’s my boy.”

#— sunni adores leo (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡#leo valdez x reader #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #leo valdez #pjo #all the ladies luv leo

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kore-arts · 13 days

Text

So! New au hehehe. Joker jr and Red Hood take place in the same universe.

@aurora-bore-aura and I have been going insane/pos

Jason Accidentally falls through an unfilled tunnel into Arkhams basement. Glad that even his half mask canceled his yelp as he stalks through the facsimile of a suburban scene. His eyes narrowed as he saw cords leading from a grill. They widen again as he sees Harley snoring on a picnic table.

Fingers tense around his knife until he hears soft almost inaudible sobs. A kid, and oh how that struck his heart. Even more when he sees the torn and bloody Robin suit.

His replacement lay on a metal table. Bound and sobbing in his sleep, another Robin tortured by a monster. He jumps hearing a laugh that haunts his head as he slashed the binds. As he dodges, swings and taunts he picks up the boy. Copper floods his mouth as he bites his tongue to not make a sound.

His mind blank, he knocks the two out and runs out. He is dangerously aware of how light, how small his replacement is. Especially as his eyes open and a mumble of “my ‘obin. My ‘obin saved me” before going slack again.

(⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆

And so Jason pre- Red Hood finds and saves Tim. Only nights before the others could. The poor boy is at best near catatonic or mumbling. Or at worst laughing and choking on tears.

So Jason is trying. He is Really trying, he does laugh when he finds out Tim glammed up the heads in the dufflebag. And when he gets back and finds him rebuilding the bazooka. It worked extremely well.

It takes time. Tim picked up the hobby of sneaking and reading the tomes his parents illegally kept. Magic being a hobby that didn't remind him of either Joker or being Robin.

Or when they had to temporarily relocate as Gotham celebrates for weeks as the Joker Mysteriously showed up dead. And no it wasn't one of the two of them.

Or when Jason ate a glowing ball only to find out he was a Starving Halfa and ate the Joker's core.

He basically got food poisoning and Tim got a Friend out of the Ghost Princess and King! And finds out Jason is a Protection spirit on the way to be the next Lord Gotham as Lady Gotham is steadily growing weaker and tired.

Jason and Tim sit down once. Laughter was a problem and they both needed to seperate it from the monster. Tim brought up he wanted to help. And they talked. And so Crow joined Red Hood on the scene. Murder being a last resort and the Caw like laughter being a warning message in their territory. Soon enough the Bats and Birds would find out. And they didn't know what they would do.

Ps the Crow is named Alice. She keeps finding pocket watches

#for later #art #artists on tumblr #my art #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #its subtle. for now #things get better #crows laughter

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dixons-sunshine · 2 months

Note

js read your shopping spree and dying for your haircut fics and omg

can u pretty please, with a bow on top, write another part to that series or like an au where they get separated at the fall of the world and a few season later (preferably that prison era of daryl he was so fawking sexy there like omg) they found each other again and i want some build up to their reunion yk like someone else finds r and brings them in and some ppl kinda chatting abt the new girl or wtv and dars not rlly gaf cuz he kinda getting tired of trying to find r (realistically i don’t think he’d give up easily but let’s js pretend yk) but then they see each other and they’re like omfg the love of my life’s here and safe and like i need that glenn and maggie type reunion but like tenfold bc r and dar alr loved and knew each other before the fall yk and like yeah😣

idky but i’m a sucker for “r and daryl had a relationship beforehand, got separated, and reunited” trope (?) fic, blurb shit and you’d literally be godsent if u wrote this oml

I Found You | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When the dead started to rise and the world went to hell, Daryl got seperated from you, the love of his life. After over a year of searching for you and finding no evidence of your survival, Daryl was beginning to give up and count his losses. One day, Carol stumbled upon a wounded woman while out on a run with Glenn, and the two of them decide to accept you into the prison. Little did they know, that would end up being one of the best decisions they could've ever made.

Genre: Angst to fluff.

Era: Prison, pre season 4, post season 3.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, death, mentions of attempted sexual assault (not descriptive)

Word count: 4.3k

A/n: Thank you so much for the request! I've decided to write the au since there's already a part three for the SSHD (Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams) universe in the works, but this request was way too good to not write. I hope you like it! And I absolutely agree with you. There's something about prison era Daryl that just hits different. He was on another level completely.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests.

(Just thought I'd say that both third- and second person is used. I referred to the reader in third person when Glenn and Carol first met her, but it soon shifts to second person when she introduced herself. Just thought I'd let y'all know the shift is intentional.)

—

“Okay, so I can't guess what you did before all of this correctly, but I bet there is something that I will be right about.”

Daryl looked at Zach skeptically as they trudged through the abandoned store, looking for supplies to bring back to the prison. “Yeah? Wha's tha'?”

“You're brooding, quiet, you like to keep to yourself,” Zach started, leaning nonchalantly against one of the shelves while he watched the archer place multiple different packs and boxes into his bag. “The way you act most of the time would suggest you've never been in a relationship before, but there are clear signs that you were with someone before all of this.”

Daryl stiffened for a moment, his hand lingering above a pack, before regaining his composure and continuing his task. “Wha' signs?”

“Well, for one, you know exactly what kind of tampons and pads to get for the ladies at the prison. I would've just dumped everything in and have them sort through it, but you are only taking specific brands,” Zach pointed out, motioning to the box of tampons Daryl had just put back onto the shelf.

When Daryl didn't reply, Zach took that as his cue to continue. “And while we're on the topic of periods, you seem to know exactly what to get the girls for the pain and what to do to curve their bad tempers. What guy would know that if he didn't have a girlfriend before all of this? And to top it all off, and this is totally unrelated to everything I just said, I've seen that locket necklace you keep in your pocket. It's pretty worn out and faded, but you can definitely tell it's something from this generation, so it can't be something that was passed down from a relative, so that brings me to my conclusion. You, Daryl Dixon, had a girl before all of this.”

Daryl sighed, shutting his eyes tightly as he willed the onslaught of memories away. Memories that were too painful to think of, memories that did nothing but remind the archer of his failure. His failure at finding you, the love of his life, after the dead started walking. A failure he had to live with for as long as he remained alive.

Daryl opened his eyes and turned abruptly, leaving the young man behind him as he stalked towards the exit, his bag slung over his shoulder. Zach hurriedly caught up to him, struggling to keep at a steady pace beside him as Daryl strode quickly, wanting to put some distance between him and Zach.

“Woah, man! Slow down!” Zach complained, jogging to keep up with him. “Was it because I brought up the girl thing? I didn't realise it was a touchy subject.”

“It ain't none of yer damn business,” Daryl grumbled under his breath, stalking over to the truck him and Zach were using that day.

“Daryl! Come on, man. It's not that deep.”

Daryl gritted his teeth as he opened up the driver's side door of the truck, throwing his bag into the back before climbing inside. He started up the truck and revved the engine, a warning sign to Zach that he was about to leave, with or without him.

Zach hurriedly scurried into the passenger seat, barely having time to close the door before Daryl started speeding off. He gripped the edge of his seat, sending Daryl an exasperated look.

“Daryl, what the hell? Calm down!” he exclaimed, unnerved by the archer's sudden burst of fury. He'd seen Daryl angry before, but it was never directed towards him. It was downright scary.

“'M calm,” Daryl replied through gritted teeth, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“That's what you call calm?!” Zach exclaimed, motioning out towards the road. “You're driving like a maniac! Slow down!”

Daryl simply ignored the man, keeping his eyes trained on the road. Memories of you unwillingly flooded his mind. Memories of your smile, your laugh and your beautiful eyes. Memories of the calm mornings you'd spend with the archer in your shared sad excuse for an apartment where the hot water was a joke. Memories where you'd both stand under the cold water of the shower, Daryl embracing you from behind in an attempt to make the cold water bearable for you. Memories of your loving touch on his skin, your fingers lightly tracing over the scars on his back as you whispered reassuring things into his ear, assuring him that his father's abuse had nothing to do with him, that it wasn't his fault that any of that happened to him.

The more Daryl's mind wandered, the more he remembered some of the bad memories. All those arguments you had with him over some of his escapades with Merle, telling him that it would only get him into trouble, flooded his mind. One of those arguments ended up being the reason he got seperated from you in the first place.

Merle had wanted to go do some drug deal and had barged into your apartment, practically dragging Daryl from your bed. You had begged him not to go, arguing with him that it was a bad idea and that something would go wrong this time. He remembered being so angry at you for insisting during that argument that Merle wasn't good for him, that he needed to cut back on seeing him or set some boundaries with him. He had stormed out of the apartment without so much as a goodbye, and now he regretted it more than he's regretted anything before in his life.

Daryl blamed himself daily for not having listened to you that day. If he had, he never would've been seperated from you and you would've been safe by his side. He longed to have you by his side again, to tell you that he was sorry and that he loved you. However, even after all this time of searching, going out for extended periods of time to look for signs of you, it was to no avail. You were gone, and it was all his fault.

“Daryl? Are... you okay?”

Daryl snapped back to reality at the sound of Zach's concerned voice. He felt a droplet of water roll down his cheek and he hurriedly wiped it away, realising that he was crying. He hadn't even realised that tears had started to well up in his eyes, so immersed was he in his own thoughts.

“'M fine,” Daryl insisted, wiping his eyes hurriedly as he willed the tears away.

Zach furrowed his eyebrows, before realisation dawned on him. “You did have a girl before all of this. You lost her, didn't you?” he asked sympathetically.

Daryl hesitantly nodded, swallowing in an attempt to get rid of the lump in his throat. “I didn't lose her,” he began, bringing the truck to a halt in front of the prison gates as he waited for someone to open them.

“I don't know if she's even dead at all. She's just... Gone.”

—

“What are we looking for, exactly?” Glenn asked Carol as they scanned over the shelving of an abandoned pharmacy, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Carol sighed as she looked upon yet another empty shelf, its medical contents a thing of the past. “Anything medical. With all the new people we've been taking in, the supplies we have aren't going to be enough.”

“Okay,” Glenn drawled hesitantly. “But it doesn't look like there's anything worth scavenging here.”

“Let's just do a once over before we check the back. If there's nothing, we head on back. It's getting late,” Carol instructed. Glenn nodded, and the two of them dispersed to sweep through the small store once more.

“So,” Glenn started. “Is it just me, or has Daryl been more grumpy than usual?”

Carol hummed in agreement. “He has. He gets angry at the smallest of things lately.”

“Do you know why?”

“No,” Carol said, shaking her head. “I've asked him, but he won't say anything. Just tells me to mind my own business. It's really odd. He's more like he was back at the quarry. More closed off and snappy and I don't know why.”

“It's ever since he came back from that run with Zach a week ago,” Glenn replied, meeting up with the Carol again to go into the back room. “I've asked Zach if he knows why, but he refused to say anything. Says it's not his place to say.”

Carol frowned, opening the door that lead into the back room. “That's odd. So that means something—”

“Stay right there. Don't move another inch or I swear to god I'll shoot.”

Both Carol and Glenn froze in their tracks. They looked up and locked eyes with a woman, who's eyes were fiery as they darted between them.

“Names. Now. And weapons on the ground.”

“Okay, alright,” Carol responded, trying to diffuse the situation. She slowly lowered her gun and knife to the ground, urging Glenn to do the same. “I'm Carol, and this is Glenn. Now before we answer anymore questions, what's your name?”

The woman hesitated for a moment. “Y/n. What are you doing here?”

“We were looking for some supplies,” Carol spoke truthfully, eyeing the gun aimed at her carefully. “We're running low on medical things.”

After a couple of long, tense moments, with you scanning them from head to toe, you nodded to yourself after spotting something. Deciding to trust them for now, you slowly lowered the gun. However, you quietly hissed in pain, quickly clutching your side as you stumbled to regain your balance. After you steadied yourself, you limped over to your bag and grabbed a few things before handing them over to Carol and Glenn.

“Here. Hope these help. The place was ransacked when I got here. Wasn't a lot left to clear out.”

“Thank you, but we need more than this. This isn't going to last us long,” Carol responded, placing the items into her bag.

“No offence, lady, but I think I need the supplies more than you do at the moment. And I gave you more than half already. I can't spare more,” you said, clutching your side tightly.

“What happened?” Glenn asked, pointing to the your side, unable to stop his curiosity from seeping through.

“Flesh eaters,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders. “I was fighting a bunch of them when one lunged at me from the side. It toppled me through a broken window, and a shard sliced me.”

“Don't you have a group? Couldn't they help you?” Glenn questioned.

“Nope. I've been on my own since this whole thing started. I guess I should probably find a group, though. Things like this wouldn't happen if I had backup.”

You gingerly lifted your shirt, and both Carol and Glenn grimaced at the painful sight. The wound was deep and oozing blood. It would definitely need stitches, as well as someone to remove the remaining fragments of glass that still painfully stuck out of the wound. It was terrible. You wouldn't be able to get it all out without a professional.

Suddenly, an idea struck Carol. “You gave us some of the supplies you scavenged without even knowing us. Why?”

“Well, you didn't try to kill me, even after I held you at gunpoint. And by the looks of it, you guys have a group and are set up somewhere. Figured I should do the honourable thing and offer up some medical things if there's kids involved.”

“How do you know there's kids?” Glenn asked, confused.

“I can see the toys in your bag,” you pointed out, motioning to the toy truck that stuck out of the top of his bag. “Figured that adults wouldn't be playing with toy trucks while the world was ending.”

“Still, why would you? You don't owe us anything,” Carol questioned, though her mind was already set on one thing.

“Some might call me naive, but I hope that by doing some good in this fucked up world, karma will decide to do something good for me. That probably makes me stupid as shit, huh?” you replied, laughing before wincing at the pain that shot through your side at the small action.

Carol smiled at you. “We have a group set up not too far from here, at the prison. You can join if you want, but you have to answer three questions first.”

You raised your eyebrows at her. “Three questions? That's it?”

“Yeah.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Alright, shoot.”

“How many walkers have you killed?” Carol began, watching you closely.

“A lot. Too many to keep track of at this point.”

“How many people have you killed?”

You hesitated for a moment, guilt creeping up on you. “Three.”

“Why?”

“Two of them were bit. They asked me to kill them. The other one... That bastard tried to rape me. I wouldn't let him.”

“I'm sorry,” Glenn said sympathetically.

“It's fine. I'm fine,” you waved him off, before turning your attention back to Carol. “How'd I do? Satisfactory enough?”

Carol nodded. “For me, yes. You'll still need to meet the leader and have him evaluate you, but I think you'll be alright. You'll fit in just fine.”

“Hopefully,” you laughed nervously, instantly paying the price for it with a sharp pain shooting up your side, making you visibly wince.

“Come on, let's get going. We have a doctor who can get that checked out for you,” Glenn prompted. He walked over to you and grabbed your bag, stopping your protest instantly. “It's fine, I've got it. One extra bag won't kill me.”

Together, all of you made your way out of the pharmacy and over to their car. You got settled in the back while Carol and Glenn got into the front, and before long you were setting off to the prison. Your eyes were beginning to droop, but Glenn seemed eager to get to know the new recruit better.

“What were you doing out there on your own anyway?”

“I was looking for my boyfriend. I was hoping that he might still be alive.”

“No luck?” he asked.

“No,” you shook your head, pursing your lips. “I'm beginning to think I might never find him, if he's even still alive.”

“Never say never,” Glenn encouraged you. “You'll find him someday, I know it.”

“I really hope so.”

—

“Have you seen that new chick Glenn and Carol brought back? She's a real looker.”

“I know, right? You think she's into blondes?”

“Even if she was, I doubt she'd go for your scrawny ass.”

“Easy, boys. She might not even be into guys. I could have a shot with her for all you know.”

Daryl groaned inwardly as he entered the cellblock. The new girl that Glenn and Carol brought in the day before was seemingly the hottest topic of discussion amongst everyone and he couldn't escape it, no matter where he tried to run to. Nobody, apart from Glenn, Carol, Rick and Hershel have officially met her, yet everybody had seemingly already formed an opinion about her. Although there were a lot of different opinions, everyone seemingly agreed on one thing; the new girl was hotter than hell.

Daryl was the only guy in the entire prison that hadn't seen her yet. He was out hunting when Carol and Glenn brought her back and he hasn't bothered to go out of his way to introduce himself to her ever since he got back. He'd meet her soon enough and he wasn't hoping to make friends with her. The more people he managed to keep at arm's length, the better.

“Yo, Daryl. What do you think about the new chick?” a guy called Mitchell asked him, snapping him from his thoughts.

Daryl shrugged. “Ain't met her yet,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay, but have you seen her?” another guy called Ronnie asked. “I'm telling you, man, hotter than the sun on a summer day. I'm hoping she'll let me hit at least once.”

“How 'bout ya leave the poor girl alone?” Daryl snapped, turning to face the group that was walking with him. “She ain't even been here two days and y'all are already ogling her like she's some prize to be won. Have some more respect.”

“Jeez,” Mitchell whistled. “What's got your panties up in a bunch?”

“Nothin',” Daryl muttered angrily, turning around to walk further into the cellblock. “Jus' wanna get this fuckin' job done and all y'all can do is yap 'bout some girl ya dun' even know properly. I dun' give two flyin' shits 'bout who or wha' ya talk 'bout, but do it after the job's done. Y'all ain't free loadin' here. Do yer job, earn yer keep.”

“Sorry,” a girl called Ariana muttered, sending him an apologetic look. “What do you need us to do?”

“Take those planks over there and take em to the guard tower. Rick wants to fortify it and wants it done by the end of the week.”

“What are you gonna do?” Ronnie asked, crossing his arms as he sized Daryl up.

Daryl glared at him and squared his shoulders, looking down on his shorter, scrawny frame. “Hershel needs help with somethin'. I believe ya can understand tha' if the doctor needs somethin' done, it's considered top priority?”

Ronnie shrunk under Daryl's intense glare, nodding quickly. “Yeah, of course.”

“Great.”

With that, Daryl turned on his heel and set off to find Hershel. He didn't have to search far, however, because Hershel halted him before he could go outside.

“Daryl, over here,” the old man called after him, halting him in his tracks.

Daryl turned and walked over to Hershel, nodding at him respectfully. “Wha' ya need, Doc?”

“I'm sure you've heard of the girl Carol and Glenn brought back yesterday by now?” Hershel questioned, chuckling at the slight groan Daryl emitted.

“Who hasn't? Apparently she's really good lookin'. Her looks has been all people has to say 'bout her.”

Hershel nodded. “Unfortunately, that is true. Only Rick, Glenn, Carol and myself has had the pleasure of meeting her personally up until this point. She's a lovely woman. Had no problem that there wasn't anything to ease the pain when I had to stitch her side and she's more than willing to get up and start working to earn her keep. She won't be able to for at least another day or so since her side needs to heal up a bit first, but Carol and Glenn did good with bringing her back. She'll fit right in.”

“Good,” Daryl nodded. “She a good fighter?”

“From what I understand, she's been out on her own since the beginning. She's not dead yet, so I'd say she's alright,” Hershel replied, adjusting on his crutches.

“Alrigh', now enough 'bout her. Wha' did ya need me to do?”

Hershel gave him an encouraging pat on the back, confusing the archer. “You're going to be one of the very few people who gets to say they met the new girl for the next couple of days. I was hoping you could help her fix her bunk? One of the legs on the bunk broke and she's dead set on repairing it. She won't let me help because she keeps insisting I've done enough for her, so I told her I would send someone else to help. She'll be expecting you.”

Daryl pursed his lips but nodded, parting ways with the older man. He walked over to the cell that Hershel had pointed towards and stopped at the doorway, hesitating to make his presence known.

You had your back turned towards the door, hunched over as you inspected the leg of the bunk. You weren't aware of the archer that stood a few feet behind you, engrossed entirely in your own thoughts. That was, until he spoke up behind you.

“Hey. Hershel said ya needed help?”

You froze at the voice, willing the supposed hallucination away. You slowly rose to your feet and turned, locking eyes with the one person you've been searching for since the world went to hell—your boyfriend, Daryl Dixon.

The moment Daryl locked eyes with you, a whirlwind of emotions flooded his being. Relief, love, happiness, wonder, sadness, confusion and so much more that he couldn't decipher. Although his first instinct was to wrap you in his arms and never let go of you again, he hesitated, refusing to believe you were real. He took a step back, his eyes wide as he looked at you.

You stared back at him with equal amounts of disbelief. You took a hesitant step forward. “Daryl?” you whispered. The man in front of you looked slightly different; a little bit older and his hair was longer, but there was no mistaking it. The man in front of you was Daryl.

Daryl remained silent, his eyes locked on you as you continued to take agonizingly slow steps towards him. He watched as you stopped in front of him and hesitantly raised your hand, bringing it to rest on his cheek. Daryl instantly melted into your familiar soft touch, and that was all the confirmation he needed. Without another thought, he gently grabbed you and pulled you into his arms, tightly clinging to you as he pressed multiple kisses to the top of your head.

“Yer real,” he whispered, a laugh of amazement falling from his lips. “Yer real. Yer alive. Yer actually still alive.”

You laughed quietly against his chest as you held onto him tightly, never wanting to let go ever again. Your laughter soon turned into sobs, tears of relief and happiness falling from your eyes.

“I thought I'd never see you again,” you whispered through your tears, burying your face into his chest. “I thought you were dead, Dar.”

“'M here,” he whispered into your ear, a few tears of his own falling from his eyes. “'M alive. Yer alive. 'M never lettin' ya go ever again. 'M sorry I ever left tha' day in the first place.”

“It's okay. I'm sorry, too. I never should've asked you to cut Merle out of your life. He's your brother. It was unreasonable of me.”

“Nah, it wasn't,” he denied, placing another gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Ya were jus' lookin' out fer me. I never shoulda gotten mad at ya in the first place.”

“Let bygones be bygones?” you whispered against his chest.

Daryl chuckled before nodding. “Yeah, of course.”

The two of you held onto each other for a couple of moments longer until you pulled back. Daryl was about to voice his protest until you pressed your lips against his in an urgent kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms settled on your waist, pulling you closer into him as he kissed you back. There was no lustful hunger behind the kiss—there was only love and longing, two broken parts finally reuniting and mending together as one.

Daryl pulled back and placed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “I missed ya so much,” he whispered, willing the lump in his throat to go away.

“I missed you too. More than you even know,” you replied, cupping Daryl's cheek with one of your hands. “But I found you. I finally found you.”

Daryl leaned into your touch before turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand. However, he soon pulled away from you and strode over to your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

“C'mon,” he said, taking your hand in his as he pulled you to walk beside him.

“Where are we going?” you questioned, falling into step beside the man you loved.

“There ain't no need fer ya to sleep in there. Yer gonna sleep with me in my cell,” Daryl said simply, pulling you along to his cell.

You giggled but said nothing, silently following him into his cell. When he placed your bags down on the floor, Daryl placed a soft kiss on your lips before stalking out of the cell.

“Where are you going?” you called after him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“'M gonna find tha' prick who objectified ya and teach him a lesson. Yer hot as fuck, yes, that much I can accept people sayin', but Ronnie implied he wanted to sleep with ya outrigh'. He's really gonna regret sayin' tha' in a few moments. Dun' even try to talk me outta it.”

“Hey, Dar?” you called after him, halting him in his tracks. “I love you.”

Daryl smiled at you. “I definitely love ya more.”

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

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vemuabhi · 1 month

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Sanji Masterlist

Seems like I exceeded and wrote too much and tumblr mentioned that i can't fit more links in main master post, hence imma create a Sanji Masterlist seperately. Hope you like it.

Main Masterlist

Older to Newer ~~

I Don’t Hate my Birthday anymore

Reaction to a Pregnant S/O

Kidd pirate crewmate - love at first sight - new year special chapter

Reaction to a Sleep Deprived S/O

Amusement Park date with S/O - 1000 chapter special

Fem!Reader gets Conquerors Haki

Reader sees Celestial Dragon who enslaved her once

Love me again

LawSan Week Masterlist! (2021)

7 Kisses Sanji week Masterlist! (2021)

Ice cream

The Finest Flavour (first kiss)

Always working so… Wanna hug?

My Favourite scenes of Sanji

My favourite Sanji Outfits

Its okay to take a break (stressed reader)

A prank!? You jerk!

S/O who photographs Lighting without fear

Sanji - Brunet (Exclusive Love)

Frustrated Reader get comfort

Perfect - 🎵 song fic

Blink of an eye - CEO AU

Failing to Flirt

Cherry Bomb - 1950′s AU

What Sanji is like when Falling in love - Chubby reader

What Sanji is like in Love - Chubby reader

I want a Boyfriend - mini event

#one piece #shy shy shy #husbando #sanji #one piece x reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #op sanji #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x you #sanji op #opla x reader #opla sanji x reader #opla sanji #one piece sanji #sanji black leg #opla sanji x you #opla x you

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tizeline · 3 months

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Are Donnie and Leo aware that they are twins? Did Draxum know their twins? Do they Decide later?

SO MANY QUESTIONS!!!!!????!!!

....

I'm super excited for Cassandra's appearance, the trio having a human ally could really help them understand Donnie's relationship with April (also, big sisters are fabulous)

Okay so for this I first wanna explain my headcanons for the whole twin situation in the show before I explain how it works in the AU

So the way I always imagined it, Splinter was able to figure out that Raph's the oldest, Mikey's the youngest and Leo + Donnie are the middle kids based on in which order they hit certain developmental milestones growing up. But becuase Leo and Donnie are much closer in age it compared to their brothers, it made it basically impossible to tell which one of the two was older. It's Leo btw, but Splinter would have no way of knowing that, and because of that he just decided to treat them like twins.

But you know who would know their actual ages? Draxum. Which means that in the Seperated AU everyone would already know that Leo's slightly older than Donnie cuz Draxum could just... y'know, tell them. And considering that, as well as how I tend to imagine the twin-thing would happen in the show's setting, there doesn't seem to be a very likely possibility that Leo and Donnie would even start viewing each other twins in the AU...?

Wait, wtf, I don't like that at all! (╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻

I dunno, it might happen! Like, uh, I've already established Leo is the Draxum Brother who Donnie befriends first, so they'd have a pretty unique bond. And in the show's setting they would know, logically, that they aren't actually twins, but are rather perfoming the whole twin-relationship because they want. And they both look and act pretty similar. And I'd fully imagine Donnie insisting that Draxum somehow got the ages wrong cuz there's NO WAY someone as childish and stupid as 'Nardo could possibly be older than someone are mature and wise as Donatello!

Point is, they MIGHT still end up "becoming" twins in the AU!? Maybe!?

AND GOD CASEY!!

Omg I haven't even thought about the posibilites with Casey before you brought them up oooooooo my brain is braining!!

Listen, one of my biggest problems with Rise is that we never got the chance to get that classic Raph + Casey Bromance, and I just KNOW their dynamic in Rise would've been absolute peak! BUT NOW!! If the Draxum family starts to work with The Foot, and Raph meets Casey! I've been so focused on Donnie and April being the catalyst for the Drax Trio's redemption arc, but what if one of the major factors for Raph changing his view on humanity is him meeting and befriending Casey????? 🥹🥹🥹🥹

Man, I'm almost done with the Leo Brooding In A Pizzeria-arc, and THEN it's time for Raph aaghhhghg I've got IDEAS now thank youuuu!!!!!

#tizel talk #Tiz Sep AU #tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt au #rottmnt seperated au

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doughliciousfrosting · 10 months

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Your tmnt au meeting Monkey kid and the gang?

I think you're talking about my 2012 TMNT designs? Which I understand, theyre really far from canon HELPP but they're not really an au 😭 or they were never really meant to be. Anyways I have a lot of thoughts and I could explain why I picked each character and paired them up with each other and if I can I'll definitely draw the rest of them!!

I'll explain right now why I paired Mei with Donnie and Tang with April

First and foremost though,

⚠️ NONE OF THESE ARE SHIPS ⚠️

With that out of the way I'll start with why I paired Mei and Donnie. I like to think that Mei is a super good builder and tbh, this is actually pretty canon. We see her rebuild her bike in S1 Ep 3 and in S1 Ep1 she's also the one who builds their secret fortress which is INCREDIBLY made. With this information in mind it can be quick to assume Mei is a pretty good mechanic! In S3 of 2012 TMNT we know that Casey and Donnie spend a lot of time in the small barn out back working on stuff both seperately and at times together! While I do think Casey can understand some of the tech jargon Donnie talks about (as long as it relates to car parts) I don't think Casey can really understand the technical stuff. I think Casey's knowledge probably comes from self taught experience, as a result he can identify each part and what they do but not the technical terms for them and professional blueprints for things and stuff. Which is why I think Donnie would be absolutely ecstatic to have someone able to read his work!! And like I said earlier Mei is really good with tech as we see a lot in the earlier seasons before they delved hard into mystic magic and stuff. I would have paired Mei with Casey but I have other ideas grrr!!! If people are interested I'll explain more.

Moving on to why I paired Tang with April! I kinda rewrote April a lot HELP I think her writing had a lot of problems so I just changed stuff lol. I like to think that the reason April tried so hard to prove herself and stuff was because she doesn't want to be useless. I feel like she gets sorta babies a lot (mainly by her father) and it makes her want to overachieve to prove a point, prove that she's grown and that she's perfectly capable of handling herself. The problem though is the years of fighting experience she lacks. In a normal situation April can 100% take care of herself but in ones where she faces opponents with a lifetime's experience in combat versus her measily 1 and a half years the difference is huge. And on top of this April has to figure out her psychic powers, which in S4 literally blew up in her face. I just think she struggles with feeling inadequate, when she does something she wants to be the best and it's hard for her to feel like she has a place in the team when everyone else seems not to struggle the way she does in battle. She just tends to forget the difference in fighting experience even though they're all the same age. Anyways, being unsure of ur worth on the team and struggling with your powers seems like it would be right up Tang's alley!! Tang in S3 Ep8 has a huge tipping point where we see he struggles with self doubt and feeling like he isn't needed. Then later when he discovers he has powers he struggles to control them and get them to do what he wants. I think Tang reassuring April is just a really nice gesture!! Especially since Tang and April are like the most human out of the rest of the group (excluding Casey but he struggles in a different way). I think in a group full of spectacular talents, it's easy to feel ordinary which is a thought I think plagues Tang and April's minds while their characters develop. I tried to keep this short so I hope it makes sense ahhh if you're still reading you're totally awesome and cool!!!

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yangbbokari · 7 months

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In my past, I find you and in the future, I still have you

Pairing: Bang Chan x F!reader Genre/AU/Tropes: Angst, lovers to exes and back to lovers, idol!AU Warnings: Breakup, a few(lots) tears, cursing, (it might hit close to home so read at your own risk), sick reader, memory loss WC: 2.5k Summary: Leaving Bang Chan was hard for you. But how hard would it be on Chan? (Not really a summary but yk ✨SUSPENSE✨) A.N: Okay so it won't stop bugging me and I'm eatin' this up. Also, this is very cliche, ik. so🤫🤫 Song Rec: Atlantis - Seafret, I Love You So - The Walters, If the world was ending - JP Saxe ft. Julia Michaels

It's not that you didn't love him. It was that you couldn't. He already had so much work piled on him. Late nights at the studio and being overworked by his company was already taking a toll on not only his physical, but mental health too. Now in these circumstances, he didn't need you to add on to that.

You were diagnosed with a brain tumor last week. The doctors had said that you would slowly lose your memory over time and the operation was risky.

“It’s best to tell your loved ones so they will know when the time comes.”

But how could you do that to Chan. You wouldn’t want him to worry about you and forfeit his career. Yes, he would be an emotional wreck if you left him, but it’d be worse if you left his world completely.

What hurt your heart the most though, was that the universe seemed to be playing tricks on you.

“You’ll most likely lose about five years of your memory.”

Five years. Five years ago when you and Chan met. Isn’t that funny. It was making you forget him. Why though? Why did you have to forget the only person who made you truly happy?

So you had no choice. No choice but to let him go. Let him be happy with someone new. Someone who isn't you. As much as you wished that none of this fell on you, there wasn't really another option.

You let there be a slow let down. Drips of it at a time instead of a waterfall. A small flame instead of a blazing fire. I light breeze instead of raging winds. A tiny whisper instead of a loud voice.

So you packed your bags and waited for him. When he got home, late at night, or you could say an early time in the morning, you sat him down. He was clearly worried. It wasn't normal for you to be up this late let alone sitting him down like he'd done something wrong. Before you could even get a word out he grabbed your hands and starting speaking.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for whatever I've done that makes you wish to leave me. Please don't end this. I'll fix whatever is wrong. You're... you're everything I could ask for so don't say anything about us seperating."

Why could he read you so well? How were you suppose to leave him when he looked at you like this? Why did he make it so hard for you to leave him? But you had to tell him one way or another. You took a shuddering breath before spilling it on him.

"I just don't think..." It was suffocating you. You didn't want to continue but you had to. Tears were already rushing to your eyes, ruining your plan. But you couldn't let him see them. "...I don't think I can continue o-our relationship."

"Why?" He said almost immediately.

You wanted to tell him the truth. Or at least give him a soft reason. But you knew you had to hurt him so that he would want to forget you.

"Because I'm tired. You come home at late times. You're probably out with some other girl while I sit at home, waiting for you. Besides, I'm tired of keeping this useless relationship a secret. How long have we been together, Christopher?"

"Don't call me that."

You knew him hearing his government name coming from your mouth would hurt him a little too deep.

"Four years... four years and not even the members know, Christopher."

"Don't call me that!" Tears brimmed his eyes as you spoke.

"I want someone who can be with me and have time for me. Someone who can show me off as if I'm his entire world."

"You are my entire world."

"I don't want to be anybody's SECRET anymore!"

The tears were threatening to push all boundaries and just fall. But you had to keep your resolve.

His grip on your hands tightened. "FIne. I'll take some time off a-and we can do whatever you want. A-and w-we'll go public. I-I-I don't want t-to hide you either so let's-"

"No. I'm done, Christopher. I'm done with all of this and I'm leaving."

Chan gradually moved from the couch and onto his knees, in front of you as he shook his head.

"Please don't call me that. Channie, babe, baby, anything but Christopher. And please... please don't leave me. I'll do anything just don't go. You're the best thing that could possibly happen in my life so d-don't go. You're my happiness. I-I don't know what to do without you. You're my life and soul. You're my everything. So don't walk away..."

You could feel his tears fall onto your lap and hands as he hung his head low. You wanted to sob your heart out. Tell him that this is only for a little while and you'll come back. But you couldn't. So you pushed him away. Walking to your shared bedroom and coming out with suitcases. Chan's eyes widened a he ran to your side.

"Where are you going? Are you seriously going to just leave everything behind? Please don't, please...? Tell me what to do and I'll do it."

"Let me go."

"Anything but that."

His hand rested over yours, stopping you. His eyes pleading you to stay. His breath shaky and unstable. His trembling body from the disbelief. His bothered mind, not wanting to believe this.

“I already said I’m tired and I’m leaving.”

“Take me with you.”

“I’m leaving you.”

You sent the words like sharp, cold icicles straight into his heart. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. His whole world was falling apart.

No.

His whole world was walking away. Away from him. Away from everything they’ve ever created. Away from their love. His arms went limp and you did as you said. You left him. You walked away. ~~~ It’s been a year now. The operation was successful and you made it out safely. But not your memories. As life went on, you felt a little uncomfortable. Like something was missing. Someone was missing. You couldn’t pinpoint it though. So you found a new way to cope, K-pop.

It started recently. A month or two ago maybe. Not that you really could remember. Your friends introduced you to BTS and it just fascinated you. Recently, you started standing a new group, Stray Kids. You didn’t exactly have a bias yet. But, you were really drawn to one member in particular, Bang Chan. He brought you much warmth and for some reason, you kind of felt familiar with him. Like you’ve known him since forever even though you only discovered Stray Kids last week.

Your friend, Yuna, happened to have an extra Stray Kids concert ticket. How could you say no? It wasn’t until another two weeks. But, hello? You had to find the finest outfit out of what you already had. As you rummaged through your closet, a box fell from the top, and you dodged it quickly. The box broke open revealing photos, a diary, a necklace, a phone, and a couple of CDs.

The items weren’t something you recognized. Probably Yuna’s, you thought. But curiosity got the best of you. Yuna wouldn’t mind… right? So you gathered the items together before actually looking at them. Shocked, was an understatement.

There was photos of you and no other than, Bang Chan, together. Cuddling, kissing, canoodling, everything you could possibly find in the books. There’s no way. The person you’ve been admiring for a couple of weeks was… was… was someone you were infatuated with.

You put the rest of the items back into the box and rushed to living room. Placing the box on the table, you took out a few CDs and placed one in the CD player. It was without a doubt, Chan’s voice coming through the speakers. His soft voice singing a love song. You then took out the diary. It contained little moments that you recorded. Your eyes skimmed through the diary until the last page. Tears rushed to your eyes.

“Hi, me. Hi, Y/n. It’s me or you or us. I don’t really know. But I’m writing this because I want you to know about someone. Someone who helped you through everything. Christopher Bahng. Bang Chan. The man who you love most and who loves you most. Don’t forget him. Run to his side as soon as you read this. He’ll be waiting. I promise. If you forget about him, remember the most you possibly can. He’s the only one who will protect you and stay by you. You met at the cafe shop right outside of JYP. Your first date took place at the same place. You had your first kiss during a movie night at his place. His birthday is October 3rd, 1997. He’s your soulmate.”

You grabbed the phone and opened it. Thank god it was unlocked. Thank the past you who was smart enough not to put a password on it. Opening your camera roll, there was gazillion pictures of you and him. Your phone book had only his number in it. Everything on that phone had to do with him. Even the small little widgets.

Memories flooded your mind. It was all of him. Everything about him. You took a deep and shaky breath. Looking at his contact on this phone, you contemplated on pressing it. You ended up pressing it anyway. Now the problem was, how to call him. It was too nerve-wracking. Though it was only about 10 seconds, it felt like hours until you pressed, call. The other end connected almost immediately.

"Y/n... Hello?"

Your breath hitched. It really was him. The voice, the person, the missing peice. You finally found it.

"Y/n, are you there? P-please let it be you. I ran from practice once I knew it was you. Hello? Please say som-"

And you hung up. Everything was finally clicking. Now you knew why you felt like you've known him since forever. Why you felt you had a missing piece. He was there all along and you were just too stupid to realize it.

You finally let your long held breath out. Your heart beating at a rapid pace. Everything felt so surreal. As much as you wished to deny it, you knew it was all true. ~~~ When the time of the concert came, you were ready. Emotionally, probably not. But physically, definitely. You placed the necklace around your neck. The one you had found in the box. It was a galaxie pendant with your's and Chan's intitials written on the back. You dressed exactly how he liked. Well not exactly, but close. He usually prefered you in what you were most comfortable in. But you knew he absolutely loved when you were fully in black. Preferably, a skin tight dress. So that's what you wore. You did a small touch of makeup with a coral shade of lipstick. It was his favortite shade on you. Even though he really liked your natural beauty.

You mustered up all the courage left in you and you went to the concert. Were you scared? The answer was yes. You weren't sure what to expect but that didn't mean it didn't made you scared.

Yuna managed to get her hands on V.I.P tickets which meant you could even go backstage. Your head was jumbled of all the things you were gonna tell him. It made you feel kind of guilty for leaving him like he was nothing just to run back to him. But you still loved him and you weren't gonna let anything get in the way this time.

Eventually, you made it. But you were now standing in the front, extremely nervous. What would he think when he saw you again? Would he be mad at you?

No one but you two knew of your previous relationship. So not even Yuna would have known that she was taking you to the one person you loved.

As soon as they entered the stage, you froze in place. Your eyes couldn't leave his figure. They followed every single one of his movements. What you didn't expect though, even though you should've, was when his eyes found you.

It was after the first song ended and they just started talking to the fans. As he scanned the gigantic crowd, his eyes softened. But when his eyes moved to the row in front of him, his eyes widened. They widened with shock, surprise, disbelief. There you were, standing in the audience of a concert for him. It has always been a dream of his to see you at his concert.

You took off as soon as you saw his eyes widen. You most definitely were not ready for that. You should’ve mentally prepared yourself better. Your heart wouldn’t stop beating rapidly. ~~~ It wasn’t until after the concert that you finally came back. Yuna had to drag you backstage. She kept teasing you for being so shy. But if only she knew. In the end, you were face to face with each of the members. You didn’t do anything, staying still.

Bang Chan had a whole lot of self control, to not run to you and hug you. But Yuna just had to have such a big mouth and said, “ Y/n’s favorite member is Chan! She had her eyes on you the whole time. Was even too nervous to come back here and meet you.”

You face completely flushed with a deep color of pink, immediately looking at Chan. Nervously chuckling as you inputted, “Y-yeah… haha..” Now you both were clearly uncomfortable. The silence kept between the two of you was insufferable as the others teased you. ~~~ Somehow, you were now trapped in a room with Chan. The others left to give you some “privacy,” or so the called it. It felt like hours before one of you finally spoke.

“Hey, y/n…” He said.

“Hey…”

“How’ve you b—”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Everything.”

A few moments of silence fell between you again.

“I’m sorry for leaving you and saying things so horrible.” Now tears started clouding your vision as you talked. “I actually didn’t want that. It was all a mistake a-and I really really miss everything we had. I know I sound stupid. But I lied. I lied about everything and I should’ve told you the truth. I-I-I-I had a brain tumor.” Your tears were a full on waterfall now and they definitely weren’t stopping anytime soon. “And I was scared I would affect your career. I was scared that I would forget you, us and everything we had.”

Without a doubt, Chan was also crying. He quickly came to hug you and comfort you. He hushed you down.

“N-no it’s okay. I know it must’ve been hard. I should’ve kept pursuing you and staying by your side no matter what.”

“Don’t blame yourself. You had no choice but to believe me. I was the one who left.”

He just shook his head and held you as close as possible.

“But you’re here now, aren’t you?” He asked before you nodded your head. “See, you’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

Let’s just sayyyyyyy, y’all made up just fine and now you’re happy. Yuna and the other members were shocked for sure but it all went well. The two of you were now together and that’s how it would be, forever. ~~~ another a.n: sry for the ass ending y’all😭 but I didn’t know how to end it with a make up so that’s what I gave. It was also super rushed so sry for that too. Maknae line pt.2 should b out by tmrw so don’t worry. Love y’all though!!!😘😖💗

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