#he already does!!! in his own quiet and reserved way!!!

[notmyneighbor]

Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 6

Word Count ~ 3.9k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ sexual content

Also available on AO3

taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

Early morning. Almost time for Francis’ delivery route to begin.

“Good morning.” You look at the doppelgänger. His face is pressed into the living room pillow he’d borrowed from the couch, offering you the solitary one on the bed. A sleepy smile of greeting.

“Good morning, love.” His hand cups your cheek and you trap his fingers, turning your face to kiss the inside of his wrist. “I’m glad you stayed last night.”

“Me too.” Its earlier than you’d normally rise, but you kind of like it. That sense that the rest of the world is slumbering and the two of you have this time reserved just for you.

“Tell me to go get ready. I don’t want to leave this bed.”

“Go get ready. I’ll press your clothes for you while you take a shower. Get coffee going.”

“M’kay.” He sighs, sitting upright. Stretching his arms, his legs hanging over the side of the bed. A dog barks outside and someone hisses for it to be quiet. The replicant freezes, his arms dropping down sharply.

“Francis? What is it?”

“It’s not a dog.” He stands and goes to the window, edging the curtain back. “I don’t recognize them. Not from my squadron.”

“A doppel?”

“Yes.”

You sit up, the languid, cozy feeling evaporating instantly. Bringing you right back to reality. “Does the owner know?”

“No. They’re human.”

“Are they trying to come in?”

“No. But they sense something. That’s why they barked. They’re already halfway down the street. You’re safe.” He lets the curtain drop back into place.

“Didn’t you say no doppels would try to enter the building anymore?”

“Yes.”

You worry your lower lip. “That’s going to look suspicious to the DDD.”

“The DDD.” He says the name of the organization contemptuously. “I wish you’d leave.”

“It’s not just a job. It’s my career. I can’t leave.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want to help people. I promised I would.”

“You could do something else and still help people,” he mumbles. “Fine. If it’s going to draw more unwanted attention here, I can make certain some doppels do come in when you’re working.”

So much for the relieved idea that you and the residents would finally be safe and secure. “You can do that?”

“Of course.”

“And not let them harm anyone?”

“That is more than I can promise.”

So you’d still be putting the residents at risk. Encouraging it, even. You’d have to make absolutely certain never to let one inside.

“You’d be condemning your own kind. I’d have to call the cleaners if they threatened violence.”

“I’m aware. I have to keep you safe. If that means risking some other doppels, so be it.”

You leave the bed, walking over to the closet. Francis didn’t have many clothes aside from his work attire. He’d had few personal possessions in general from what you’ve seen so far in the apartment. Living so humbly.

The imposter rests a hand on your spine on the way past you to the bathroom, pausing to kiss your cheek. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Yes.” You select a shirt and pair of pants, folding the items still on the hangers over your arm. “I’ll be fine. Go get ready.”

The sound of the shower starting fills the background as you collect the folded ironing board from inside the closet and plug in the iron. You pad barefoot into the kitchen to get the coffee pot on, wearing one of Francis’ undershirts and your panties. You’re a little sore from the previous evening’s events. Internally. The times he had pounded into you deeply. The new bite on your shoulder. The swelling and redness seem to have dissipated. The mirror above the dresser doesn’t reveal anything too drastic looking. The puncture marks are almost invisible.

You’ve got the milkman’s pants ready when he emerges naked from the other room, still slightly damp from the shower. The brazenness still makes you blush. You know what he looks like nude by now, of course, but it feels different when it isn’t during intimacy. You watch the imitator rummaging through the dresser drawers to retrieve underwear and socks and a bow tie, secretly admiring the way his muscles shift in the warm yellow glow of the lamp, the curtains still shielding the window. You can smell the coffee brewing in the other room, easily pervading the entirety of the tiny apartment, and you inhale that enticing aroma deeply.

“So you mentioned earlier you’re in a squadron. Like a military sort?”

“Not precisely as you know it, but I suppose there are a few vague similarities.”

“What rank are you?”

“The equivalent of a lieutenant colonel, if you had to label it.”

You inch the work shirt further over the side of the ironing board to continue the pressing, smoothing out the wrinkles. “Where is the rest of your squadron?”

He shrugs. “Around,” he replies vaguely. You think he knows exactly where they are and he’s not willing to give them up. Still somewhat loyal, in spite of what’s happened between you.

“They don’t wonder where you are? Or vice versa? You don’t have some kind of a leader you have to report to?”

He pauses midway through pulling on a sock. “It doesn’t quite work like that. We are…autonomous, I suppose you would say. Working independently, but striving for the same goal.”

You hand him the shirt and he slides it over his shoulders after finishing with the socks. “So why have ranks at all then, if you’re all equals?”

“Because we’re not. Not everyone can do what I did. It’s still rare. There’s no way to instruct how to do it. It just…happens. Or doesn’t.” He finishes buttoning the front of his shirt. You help him with the cuffs of his sleeves.

“Why did you choose Francis?”

“Opportunity. Nothing more. Sheer random encounter.” You step back as he pulls each pants leg on and stands, zipping and buttoning the fly. The belt is coiled on the dresser beside the black tie. “The best decision of my existence,” he says softly, his forehead bending to touch yours.

You’re so conflicted. He’d killed the man you’d loved. But in some ways was still the man you loved. Only not. An enemy you’re supposed to be guarding against, except he no longer seems to bear any malice towards your kind. Coexisting peacefully. But the cost of that. Oh, the cost.

“I can’t say I’m grateful for what you did. But I am glad it was you, and not someone else.”

His hand cradles your head and he draws you against him. You can smell soap and shampoo. Aftershave. Your arms tighten around him.

“What did happen? During that random encounter?” You ask against his chest.

“Why do you want to know the details? It won’t change anything.”

You draw back to see his face. “Consider it a weakness of humans. There is a car accident on the interstate. The vehicles wrecked, the passengers gravely injured. We slow down or stop to look, even after emergency services have been called, even though there is nothing left to be done. We can’t look away. We have to face it. Confront our fears head on. Grieve our losses. Knowing the truth of what happened is the only way to do that.”

“If I tell you, you’re admitting he’s gone.”

You chew your lower lip, hesitating. “I suppose that would be true.”

“If that happens, you won’t have any reason to be with me anymore.” He strokes a thumb over one cheek. “Is that really what you want?”

“I…no.” Your heart is beating madly in your chest. It would be like losing Francis twice, somehow. You can’t fathom it. “I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s best I don’t know. I won’t mention it again.”

After a time the replicant finishes dressing. The black bow knotted neatly. Belt secured. Wallet tucked into his pocket, followed by his keys. You’ve hastily gotten dressed in yesterday’s clothing. You’ll return home and get properly washed and changed before returning for your shift afterwards.

The imposter pours you both a cup of the freshly brewed coffee. Strong. The way you both like it. A little cream and sugar to kill some of the bitterness stirred in.

You’re standing by the front door now. The doppelgänger holds the milkman’s cap in his hands. He doesn’t like wearing it. You can tell. You pull it from his fingers and set it on his head. Tugging the brim down a little. Smoothing some of his hair back underneath. He really did need a trim soon. You’d never seen it get this long.

“Be safe today,” he says.

“You too.”

“Do you think I could get away with coming over tonight? Is your organization going to stalk me?”

“I’m hoping they’ll calm down after a bit. They are still watching you. Me. Us. So maybe wait a couple of days, make it not so obvious.”

“I don’t think I can manage a couple of days.”

“You’ll still see me in the booth.”

“That’s not the same.”

“I know, Francis. If circumstances were different…I’m trying keep you safe.”

“I know.” He sighs. “Alright. A couple of days, then. Surely the weekend as well?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

He smiles. “Things looking up already. Alright, sweetheart.” He bends to kiss your mouth. “I’ll see you later.”

You exit the apartment and he locks the door. Still no one else stirring in the building yet. He ignores the elevator and begins descending the staircase. You follow him. He’s faster than you, his longer limbs making short work of the steps. Already nearly an entire flight down from you.

He pauses on the landing, looking back at you as you halt, fingers curled over the railing.

“Francis.” You rush down the stairs, throwing yourself at him when you reach the bottom, the momentum pushing him back against the wall. Planting kisses along the freshly shaved cheeks and jaw. “I miss you already.”

“Me too, love.” His arms envelop you and you bury your face against his shirt. Suddenly you find yourself wanting to cling to him desperately. So afraid for him. More than you were even for yourself.

It’s a relief when you see him return safely later that day; it’s all you can do not to open the booth and fling yourself back into his arms. But the camera mounted on the wall over your shoulder is a constant reminder. You’re being watched.

You’re not safe at all.

***

Saturday morning finds you standing in what was once an impressive garden beside your house. Now chock full of wildflowers and overgrown with weeds. Francis’ copy is beside you, kneeling down, his fingers raking the earth, pushing impatiently at the intruding vegetation. “The soil is still good. You could plant here again easily.”

“My grandfather would have been happy to see that. It just got to be too much for him to maintain. He had a hard time finding help for the farm. People lured into moving to the city. Better paying jobs. Fancier homes. A variety of exciting new stores to shop in. My parents both had that itch.”

“You’re somewhere in the middle.” He stands, dusting his hands off.

You nod. “I guess I am. I can appreciate the value of being in the city. The benefits. But I recognize the drawbacks, too. I love being here. It always feels right. I wish I could restore things to the way they were.”

“Maybe you could. Not to the extreme of running a business with employees, but to build it back up, little by little.”

“It would be a full time process.”

“You could do it. We could do it,” he adds softly.

“Is that really what you’d want?”

“I want you,” he says, his hands now seated on your waist, drawing you closer. He kisses you and you sigh contentedly.

“When I’m with you, it’s like the rest of the world goes away. There is no DDD or invasion. It’s just us.”

“It could really be like that.”

“No one ever leaves the DDD voluntarily. And you’d be labeled a deserter, wouldn’t you? We’d be chased. Hunted down. There’s only one punishment for someone who’s a coconspirator.” It didn’t happen often, but occasionally there were stories of humans accepting bribes. Working together with the doppels. It did not end well for the humans making those bargains; did not end well for the invaders, either.

“We’ll keep running so they can’t catch us. To the ends of the earth.” He tugs on your hand and you allow him to, following him. Navigating through the overgrowth, threading through it to find your path. Moving faster and faster, a full jog now. Still anchored to the doppelgänger’s hand.

He halts abruptly and you collide with him. Both breathing heavily. He descends and you tumble down with him. You’re in a patch of wildflowers, their perfumed scent heavy in the air.

You lie together like that with your head pillowed on his chest, one arm tucked around you. “Did you ever have anything like this before? Was there someone else?”

“Never.”

You burrow a little deeper, satisfied with the answer. Would you have been jealous if he’d said yes? Strange to think that way. But yes, you would be, you realize. The concept of sharing, the idea of affection for someone other than yourself bothers you.

“Do you think you could ever find yourself caring for me? Not for the face I wear. What’s behind it, I mean. My true self.” Your head lifts, your eyes searching his features. “I want you to love me as much as you love the man. More than that.”

“You said…you don’t even have words for human emotions. They don’t exist for your kind.”

“They don’t. They didn’t. A change now. Evolution. Something unanticipated. That’s what the ache is, isn’t it? How terrible this feeling is. How wonderful. Paradox.” He pulls your face towards his, kissing you. “I need you, sweetheart. More than you’ll ever know.”

You kiss him back. You can’t speak with words. It’s too overwhelming. Too confusing trying to separate the man and the invader. You’d been telling yourself all along it was your feelings for the former that had driven all your actions. That had been true enough in the beginning. But now. Now there were doubts creeping in. Wondering it wasn’t the other that you had feelings for. Could you really love a monster?

“Need to feel you, love, please.” The sound of his belt being undone. Dark slacks today now that he wasn’t working. Your fingers join him there, finding his cock already hard, leaking in anticipation. So hungry, so fast. Your body responding in kind, drooling for him.

You straddle his hips, the hem of your skirt bunched around your waist. Struggling to hold the crotch of your panties aside, to guide him inside of you. Gasping when you succeed. You lower yourself down onto him. The sun is warm on your back. You lift up slightly and sit back down. Impaling yourself again. Your hips roll back and forth as you lean down to kiss him. Rocking, sliding that prick in and out of your pussy. He slips completely free and you hurriedly snake a hand between your bodies, realigning him. The drag against your clit sending sparks through you. You keep the hand there, touching yourself, touching him. Feeling the heightened friction of the panties digging against your hand, against your lover’s dick. The nails of your other hand raking his chest through his shirt.

You kiss him, tasting the salt of the perspiration that has begun. It’s so hot. Outside. Inside of you. His fingers touch your cheek, seed your hair, hold your mouth against his as his hips lift to meet you. Driving him deeper inside. You look down at the man whose face you’d seen behind glass for all those months. Those dark, tired eyes on yours. Lick his mouth back open, enjoying the mash of the hand still between your bodies, grinding against the bundle of nerve endings. His lips at your jaw and throat and beside your ear. “I love you,” he whispers, and you shatter around him, your walls spasming, your body jerking through release.

It’s easy to say the phrase back to him when you’re in the height of bliss, just three simple little words that escape above his face, panted between noises of pleasure.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

His hips snap up and you feel the jet of seed inside you. Your forehead drops to his, your arms and legs suddenly shaking. You dismount and drop down beside him, your face burrowing again.

“I meant it,” he says softly. “What I said.”

“I know. So did I.” It’s the truth, you realize. Somehow, the impossible had happened.

You’d fallen in love with a doppelgänger.

***

The weekend flies by.

You are back in the security booth once again the following Monday. Straightening out the desk once more. You really could not understand why your coworkers were so disorganized. You’ve nearly finished the task when you realize through your peripheral vision that someone has entered the apartment building.

Your head lifts to see Izaack Gauss.

Or what looked like him; your instincts kicking in once again. It’s most certainly a doppel.

The face has been perfectly replicated, the second floor resident’s exaggerated features all ones you recognize: the large cleft chin and wide nose, the thick dark eyebrows set above glacier blue eyes, that wide stretch of teeth just a little too large for comfort, becoming almost a rictus grin. One that doesn’t touch the imposter’s eyes.

“Good morning,” he greets you, sliding his ID card and entry request through the stainless steel slot at the bottom of the window.

You look over the identification first. Expiration date checks out, the image and name both correct. Your eyes flick up before you study the other document. On the day’s list. DDD logo present. Occupation of reporter correct. Address verified.

“May I come in? As you can see everything is in order.”

The ID card is still clutched in your hands. You tap it against the desk absently. You know it’s not really him. You just don’t have any evidence to support your suspicion yet.

“Let me just make a quick phone call to your residence.”

You lift the receiver off the hook, dialing the first number.

“I can smell him on you.”

Your hand freezes. “I’m sorry?”

The large nostrils flare and the suited figure inhales deeply. “All over you. Inside of you. He’s been there, hasn’t he? You’ve let him in.” Little burst capillaries spidering across his eyes now. A thin trail of spit glistening on his lower lip. “You could let me inside, too.”

You flip the plastic shielding covering the alarm down and slap the red button, the steel shutters instantly dropping down to cover the glass. Hanging up hurriedly and dialing a new number, the DDD operator answering you in the same calm manor they always adopt, assuring you the cleaners will be on their way shortly.

Time seems to slow to a crawl. You hear the sounds of the disposal team making their way inside. Yelling. Gunfire. Then silence. The alarm stops sounding. The steel shutter retracts. On the other side of the window, you can see a member of the DDD wearing a yellow hazmat suit. “The doppelgänger has been taken care of. You can return to work now.”

You nod, willing your shaking hands to be still.

***

“There was a doppel today.”

The piece of cake you’re chewing tastes like ash. It’s from your favorite bakery, a treat from your replicant beau. Washed down with an ice cold sample of the milk he delivers. You wish you could enjoy it. But your taste buds won’t cooperate. You’re still shaken from what had happened earlier.

“Yes. There were to be several. What’s wrong?”

“He knew about us, Francis.”

He sets his fork down slowly. “Tell me what happened.”

“He looked just like Mr. Gauss. The reporter that lives alone on the second floor. Paperwork checked out. But I could tell something was off right away. And he said he could smell you on me. In me. He knew what we’ve done together.”

You see the copycat milkman’s Adam’s apple move above his shirt collar as he swallows loudly. “And then you called the cleaners?”

“Yes.”

“Did he get a chance to say anything to them?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“And the surveillance cameras?”

“Video feed only, no audio.”

A heavy sigh. “Alright. I’m sorry that happened to you. That was not a member of my squadron, I assure you.”

“You said they wouldn’t come near the building, because of the marks. Other than the ones you sent as decoys to fool the DDD.”

“I didn’t think they would. Honestly, I didn’t. I would never deliberately put you in harm’s way. You know that.” His hand reaches for yours across the tiny kitchen table in the third floor apartment. “Had to just be an anomaly. Had to be,” he repeats, sounding as if he’s trying to reassure himself as well as you.

“What if it’s not?”

He pushes back from the table, kneeling beside you, reaching for one of your hands and pressing his lips to it, holding it against his cheek. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I swear to you. I love you,” he says, and your heart flutters. The palm of his free hand rests somewhere along your ankle. Sliding up, bringing the hem of your skirt with it. He kisses your knee. The top of the joint. The inside. Stands and pulls you with him. Lifting you and sitting you on the counter, your skirt gathered in messy folds around your hips. His fingers dig into the sides of the underwear clinging to them, dragging them roughly down. He’s impatient, possessive. Scared, you think.

“I want to make a baby with you.”

“Francis…” Your sex throbs at the suggestion. Such a dangerous idea.

“I want them to know you’re mine. Fuck the DDD and fuck the other doppels.” His face moves against your throat, one hand on your hip as he thrusts into you, the other braced on the overhead cabinet behind you.

“I am yours.”

He huffs a moan. “You’re so perfect for me.”

You gasp when he reaches deeper inside of you, clutching the back of his shirt collar, your other hand at his waist, knees digging into his hips as he ruts against you. Your fingers travel to his hair, those cocoa locks that are growing curlier the more they lengthen. You have to cut them for him, or send him to a barber, or…

“Say it. Please, please say it. Do you want me to beg? I’ll do it. Please…”

You know what he wants. What he needs to hear. “I love you.” The wood behind you groans with the tension his hand places on it as he fucks you harder, faster. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” uttered each time he’s sheathed inside you.

Touching his cheek now, watching his mouth fall open, the kind of wonder in those dark eyes, as if he’s discovering you all over again for the first time, coming apart, waiting to be rebuilt. You both shatter and then there is silence save for the ticking of the clock mounted on the kitchen wall and the breaths you trade, a warm exchange of air in the scant space that divides you.

#thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #milkman #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #milkman x reader #milkman x you

[ddejavvu]

jake with a shy!reader i feel like that man would be so down bad he’d be unrecognizable to his friends

Tailgating by the beach means sand in your hair (and everywhere else), a trash can full of beer bottles, and a whole lot of wipeouts. For most.

For you, it means Jake’s sweatshirt bunched up under your head like a pillow as your back rests against the metal grooves of his pickup’s bed. Your pinky is intertwined with the man’s own as you stargaze, avoiding the cloud of smoke billowing up from the bonfire.

“That one looks like an F-35.” He informs you, pointing at a constellation that is definitely not a fighter plane.

“I think that’s Draco.” You hum, “Not sure, though.”

Jake turns to you with a furrow in his brow, “That little shit from Harry Potter?”

“No!” You shriek, louder than you’re used to speaking. Jake has a way of making you forget your reservations, giving you the courage to speak up around him.

“It’s a constellation.” You quiet yourself, feeling Jake’s pinky tighten around yours. “I read that it was supposed to be in the sky tonight.”

“You read up on the stars?” Jake turns to you, propped on his side in the truck bed. It must be awful on his hips, but he does it anyways to gaze at your side profile.

You give him a front view, turning your head to stare back at him, “I didn’t do it on purpose, I just saw it on Instagram, I think. On someone’s story.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but neglects to return to stargazing. He’s yougazing now, his eyes tracing the curve from your chin to your cheek, then sloping down the bridge of your nose.

“Do you think-”

You’ll never know if you and Jake share thoughts on whatever matter is in his head, because a sudden thud against the mouth of the truck bed makes you startle, and Jake nearly breaks his neck sitting up to see who made the noise. You draw yourself upright but slower, more cautiously.

It’s one of his squadron members, you’ve seen the guy before in passing, but you don’t think he’s ever noticed you. He’s on the shorter side, and he’s quickly flanked by both Coyote and a taller, unknown counterpart.

“Hangman,” The short one snickers, “I was betting you were passed out somewhere with a bottle in your mouth, not schmoozing some poor woman in your truck.”

You’ve met Javy before, albeit briefly when you’d passed in the hallway of his and Jake’s shared apartment, and in the few terrifying seconds of confrontation your eyes stray over the man’s shoulder and meet Javy’s. He sends you a kind, sympathetic smile at the antics of his friend. You feel safe around him.

“What’s your name, honey?” The taller man leans over the side of the truck bed, a smirk on his face, “Last one was Brenda- no, Brianna.”

“Payback, that was months ago.” Javy snaps, and even though you know it’s true, Jake still looks guilty. He’d confessed in you that he wasn’t exactly a saint when it came to past relations, but all that mattered was the present for you; that you were the only one in it, and he’s stuck to that without a problem.

“I’m not schmoozing her, Fanboy.” Jake drawls, a vicious look in his eyes, “We were trying to have a private moment.”

Fanboy elbows Payback incredulously, shit-eating grins already on their faces, “Sex in a pickup! On the beach, in public. Jesus, man, there’s nothin’ you won’t do.”

“I won’t hesitate to break your nose if you don’t shut your mouth,” Jake seethes, and his free hand tenses into a fist even if he’s more bark than bite. Fanboy doesn't flinch, but Payback's smirk dims.

"Lay off, man." Coyote elbows Fanboy, "It's not like that."

"The only reason you've never met'er before is 'cause I knew you'd act like this," Jake scoffs, "Doesn't mean she's some cheap fling."

You desperately want to intervene, but you don't have the words to do it even if you tried. There's a thousand swirling in your brain, but there's a stopper in its drain to your mouth, a thick clog of panic.

"Well what is your name?" Payback repeats his question, more considerate this time. You're glad he seems to have dropped his bravado, even if you're not sure Fanboy has.

"Y/N," You manage to speak, glad that you know your own name well enough to utter it even when your brain doesn't cooperate. You don't say much else, though, and Javy fills in for your silence.

"She's Jake's girl," Javy smiles at you, happy to see his friend settling down, "She's not big on talking. Not to assholes like you, anyways."

"Well that's great," Fanboy's demeanor is much nicer when he's not goading his teammate, "'Cause Jake never shuts up. Sounds like a match made in heaven."

"I'm gonna send you to hell if you don't leave us alone," Jake glares pointedly at Fanboy in particular, but the expression is extended to Payback as well, "I wasn't kidding, we were having a conversation."

"That's our cue," Coyote informs the other two, who knew but weren't willing to give up their teasing leverage. He rings an arm each around their necks, bidding you a kind goodbye as he leads them away.

"Darlin'," Jake turns to you as soon as they're gone, like a guard dog that eases out of attack mode, "I'm so sorry. They don’t mean any harm, just- they seriously don't know when to quit, 'probably comes from bein' so aggressive in the air. I'm sorry they were so pushy."

"It's alright," You nod, "It's not your fault, Jake. I'm not angry, I just- I was a little embarrassed."

"I know," He hums sympathetically, leaning in to peck your lips, "I know baby. Listen, now they've met you, they'll probably back off. And if they don't, if you see 'em around somewhere and they try messin' with you, you let me know and I might accidentally fire on 'em in an exercise."

"I don't think you should murder your friends," You tamp down a smile at Jake's suggestion, because the last thing he needs is encouragement, "But I hope I don't see them when you're not around."

A hundred feet away, down on the smooth, wet sand of the shore, Coyote finally lets Payback and Fanboy go, shoving their heads down with the force of his grip around their necks.

"Ow, dude!" Fanboy gripes, but he deserves it the most, "If I'm gonna break my neck it's gonna be in the air, in some sick-ass stunt maneuver."

"Your sick ass needs to learn to shut up," Coyote scoffs, "He's serious about that girl, man! And I wouldn't be surprised if she was running for the hills now."

"C'mon, Coyote, we were just teasing," Payback pleads his case, but Coyote narrows his eyes.

"You can't tease her, not like that. Hell, the first time she ever came over I made a joke about wearing noise-cancelling headphones for them and she couldn't look me in the eye for weeks."

"The first time she came over," Payback's brow furrows, "He's been bringing her around your guys' place?"

"I told you he was serious," Coyote throws a glance back over to Jake's truck, where his hand is pointed in the air once more, "Know any other reason he'd be stargazing right now?"

Fanboy's face wrinkles in a confused grimace, "Stargazing? He's way too douchey for that."

"He's way too in love not to," Payback marvels, "Holy shit. That's- I can't process that, man, that's weird."

"Get used to it," Coyote takes a swig of his beer, "Y'know he's been lighting candles in our apartment for her? I mean, it's nice, 'cause it gets rid of his nasty laundry smell, but candles. Hangman, candles!"

Fanboy rears his head back, "What scent?"

"Lavender."

"Lavender?"

"I know!"

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #hangman fanfiction #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x y/n #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader

[another-lost-mc]

a/n: this is for a friend that celebrated a birthday this week. I hope it was a good one! 🎉

when it's mc's birthday | the demon brothers

2.6k words | nsfw | gn!reader | fluff and non-explicit smut

cw: my fav bias is showing again. mostly soft!demons. car sex; levi's tail gets its own warning; bathing together and bath tub sex; dream magic and implied dream sex.

Lucifer plans your birthday with the utmost care. He booked a reservation at your favourite restaurant so that he can treat you to an intimate dinner. He remembered the various items you've pointed out to him in the past while browsing through the Devildom's shopping district. He went back and bought every single one of them, and they're already wrapped and tucked away in the back of his closet for later.

After he walks you home from the restaurant, there's a bottle of Demonus on ice waiting in his room. You share a toast while he watches you open your gifts. You kiss his cheek, eyes shimmery and warm with so much affection, and he can't resist the urge to kiss you properly. A soft, booze-sweetened kiss leads to another kiss, and another, and another after that. He strips your clothes off slowly, like he's unwrapping a gift of his own. He memorizes the sight of your body stretched languidly against his dark sheets. He almost feels selfish for a moment because he wants you so desperately, but the lust simmering in your gaze makes his heart race. He knows how much you want him too, and he's powerless to deny you.

The first time he makes love to you, it's heat and frenzied passion, the build-up of coy anticipation that finally boiled over. He reaches for you throughout the night between quiet conversation and short naps. Each time he pulls your body close to his again, his lips whisper tender confessions against the delicate shell of your ear while he worships your body with his over and over again.

Mammon isn't very subtle. In the days leading up to your birthday, he asks random questions about things you might like or activities you're interested in. He wants to get a head start and beat his brothers to the punch. His fake nonchalance isn't convincing, but it's still endearing how much he truly cares. Who else should celebrate your birthday if not him? He's your first, and he's not going to let anyone else spoil you more than he does.

He tries to budget his money and curb his spending so he can afford whatever it is you ask for. If that fails, he takes on some less-than-prestigious part-time gigs for extra cash. You could ask him for the world and he'd find a way to scrimp and save and scavenge and steal if he has to so he can give you whatever you want. He doesn’t realize (or doesn't believe) that his company is what makes your birthday really special.

He dresses up nice and polishes his car to a high-shine to match your own stunning smile and natural radiance. It doesn’t matter what you wear because when he tells you how gorgeous you are, he’s so sincere. You outshine all the riches and jewels he used to dream about—now he dreams of you instead.

He takes you on a date that's sweet and light-hearted. He holds your hand and stares at you across the table with a dopey grin on his face when he thinks you're not looking. Once you're alone in his car, that boyish giddiness fades into something greedy and confident. You meet him halfway when he leans over to give you a kiss. When kissing isn't enough for either of you, you push the seat back so he can climb over and settle between your legs. He takes you apart in the cramped front seat of his car until your voice is hoarse and you push him away from sensitivity. The car smells musky with sweat and cum and he doesn't care that you made a bit of a mess on the seat. He palms himself on the drive home, and by the time you get to his room, he's eager to do it all over again in the comfort of his bed.

Levi isn't sure what to do for your birthday, but you offer to plan a little outing for the two of you. All he has to do is keep you company, right? He braces himself with a mantra he repeats over and over in his head: do it for them, do it for them, do it and LIKE IT because you love them. It ends up being a lot more fun than he expects: a lunch date at one of the cafes you both like followed by a movie you’ve been excited to see. You don’t make fun of his sweaty palm when you hold hands in line to buy movie tickets and overpriced snacks at the concession bar. There's a cute plushie on display where they sell collectible merch. He buys that for you too and shoves it into your arms before you can protest.

He relaxes when you take your seats and the theatre lighting dims as the movie starts. You lean against his shoulder and he's glad you can't see how pink his cheeks are. Partway through the film, he decides he likes the movie, but not as much as he enjoys your warm fingers laced with his.

He jolts suddenly when you pull your hand away and slide your fingers onto his denim-clad thigh instead. Your fingers squeeze with the tiniest bit of pressure and he nearly gasps at the unexpected wave of lust that washes over him. He glances at you in confusion—you're still focused on the screen, but he can see the little smile curling the edge of your mouth. He squirms a little and pretends not to notice your fingers drawing lazy circle-eights across his jeans, inching higher up his leg when he doesn’t stop you. And you're right, he's not going to stop you. You run a fingertip over the growing bulge hardening against the zipper of his jeans, just as you feel his tail slide onto your lap and tease the sensitive skin between your legs.

Satan decides to take a different approach when he sees how overwhelmed you are by his brothers' plans for your birthday. Sometimes simple is best and what could be more relaxing or romantic than your favourite home-cooked meal? He fusses in the kitchen until everything is cooked exactly to your liking, and the dish he serves you looks as good as it smells. His room is tidied enough so that a small table fits—he doesn’t want the others bothering you if he serves you in the dining room. There are dozens of candles that cast you both in an ethereal glow while you eat together. His room might not offer the rich ambience of Ristorante Six or the electric atmosphere of The Fall, but nothing outshines the romance he creates here, just for you.

Once dinner is finished and he tidies up the mess, he pulls you to your feet and wraps his arms around you in a slow dance. It's more like swaying back and forth together as a classical record plays quietly in the background. Candlelight flickers playfully along the walls of his room, and your face is painted by a mirage of shadow and flame. He eagerly traces those shapes on your skin with his tongue after he lays you on his bed, and by the time you're shaking and falling apart in his arms, you'll know how much he loves you.

Your birthday is another chance for Asmo to spoil you. Throughout the afternoon, he leads you to each of his favourite boutiques in the Devildom's shopping district. He holds up dozens of clothes against your body and admires how the colours bring out your eyes or compliment your complexion or how luxurious the fabrics are. He pretends that he didn't pick all these out to show you (and buy them for you) in advance.

When he finally takes you to Majolish, his greatest gift is revealing that he personally designed this outfit specially for you. It fits flawlessly and even you think you look amazing. It’s obvious that he poured his love and passion into creating this for you when no one else ever has before. It’s almost overwhelming, the way his smile radiates warmth when he looks at you. His eyes burn with all the ravenous love he feels for you. He loses control of himself and kisses you, pressing you against the changing room wall and sliding his thigh between yours. He doesn't want to stop, but he doesn’t have the time or space to touch you properly here. When he pulls his leg out from between yours, he misses the searing heat of your body against his. Perhaps it’s for the best that he take you home first—he would hate to get stains on your new outfit so soon.

(He originally planned on taking you to The Fall but he changed his mind. He’s not in the mood to share you with anyone else tonight.)

When he takes you home, he leads you straight to his private bathroom and urges you to get undressed while he gets everything ready. He draws a warm bath and the steamy air clings to you both like a second skin. You feel self-conscious about being naked even though he stands before you, waist-deep in the bathwater and just as naked as you are. He takes your hand and pulls you gently into the water with him. He supports your weight when you lean against his chest and his hands start to wander over your body. His fingers leave a soapy trail up and down your spine. He cradles your neck and leans forward, capturing your lips in another kiss because he can't possibly wait anymore.

The kiss reignites both your desperate desires to touch and be touched. He walks you back towards the edge of the tub. When your back touches the cool marble stone, he reaches behind your thighs and lifts you onto the edge; he swallows your half-hearted protest with his lips moving greedily against yours. His mouth moves away from yours, ghosting along the curve of your jaw and down your neck while his fingers gently pry your legs apart. He bends his head low once you’re spread open for him, hot and trembling and all his. His eyes glow bright when you tangle your fingers in his hair, and it’s the last thing you see before he dips his head between your legs.

It's not surprising that Beel plans to take you out for dinner on your birthday. It's a tricky proposition because it's easy for him to lose control of his hunger when he goes out to eat. He doesn't want his sin to ruin your birthday dinner, so he eats a meal's worth of food beforehand. Having a partially-full stomach means he's not going to be completely distracted by hunger—he wants to focus on you.

He likes taking you to nice restaurants and your birthday is no exception. You put on a new outfit he’s never seen you wear before, but it looks so good on you that he's drooling from the corner of his mouth before you even leave the house. The restaurant is cozy and everything on the menu sounds delicious. Your nose bunches up adorably when you can't decide what to order, and Beel suggests ordering one of everything. He laughs deep in his belly when you glance at him skeptically over the brim of your menu. His eyes are bright with mischief even though you know he's dead-serious. He simply grins at you from across the table and reminds you that he won't let the food wouldn’t go to waste.

It doesn't take long for your food to arrive. Beel enjoys watching you eat while you make little sounds of contentment between bites. He offers you food from his own plate to try. When your plate is empty, he worries you might still be hungry; he's only satisfied when you promise that you're close to bursting and completely full. He leads you out of the restaurant by the hand, and his other hand carries a bag full of leftovers to share with you tomorrow.

When he walks you home, he doesn't want to seem needy or presumptuous even though he's reluctant to end the night so soon. He pauses outside your door and kisses you softly, whispering happy birthday against your lips that still taste sweet from your dessert earlier. He can’t resist swiping his tongue across the seam of your mouth for one more taste, and the kiss deepens when you part your lips for him. You only break the kiss just long enough to open your door and pull him inside your room before slamming the door shut again. Your hands tug impatiently at his waist, and he shivers at the metallic clink of his belt buckle coming undone. He can sense hunger rising inside you again, and when he pushes you gently onto the mattress and covers your body with his own, he realizes your appetite is as insatiable as his own.

Belphie doesn't mind if the others want to take the initiative and plan your birthday party. He prefers it that way, actually. When his brothers ask for his input, he recommends something casual at the house, nothing too fancy. He wants you to be happy and relaxed and spoiled where you can be comfortable.

He sneaks into town to buy you a gift before the party, of course—something you mentioned to him in passing once that was too expensive for you to justify buying at the time. He and Beel wrap the presents they bought you in their room. Belphie's present looks insignificant compared to the large pile of gifts stacked near your birthday cake. He's not worried, especially when your eyes light up when you open it. You're just as appreciative of his small gift as you are of the others you receive. He knows you so well.

(You keep the contents of his card to yourself: a reminder that he has something special to give you later.)

Sometimes when he takes you to the attic for bed, he falls back against the mattress and waits impatiently for you to crawl on top of him. There's no hint of his lazy smugness tonight though. His hands are gentle but efficient when he strips your clothes away first before taking off his own. He follows you down onto the bed and smothers your body with his. The soft mattress cushions you when he grinds against you, and it squeaks from the force of his thrusts when he rocks inside you too. Your skin is littered with the little marks he sucks and nibbles into your skin. He cleans you with a warm, damp cloth after because your thighs and belly are covered in a sticky mess of you and him. He takes care of you with so much tenderness. You’re already snoring lightly by the time he's finished, and he cuddles against you with a yawn.

Shortly after you fall asleep, you dream of him. It’s a shared illusion between you conjured with the sleepy brand of magic he commands. You writhe against him in your sleep as the embers of lust continue to burn deep inside you. When the dream ends, you both wake up and instinctively reach for each other as the remnants of the dream fades away. He kisses you breathless despite your stale morning breath. You whimper against his mouth and he rolls over until you're underneath him again. After indulging in a night of dreamy, lustful sins, you're both still desperately eager for more.

read more: obey me masterlist

#obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #mammon x reader #mammon smut #leviathan x reader #leviathan smut #satan x reader #satan smut #asmodeus x reader #asmodeus smut #beelzebub x reader #beelzebub smut #belphegor x reader #belphegor smut #obey me smut #obey me x reader #x reader #gn!reader

[lunargrapejuice]

when you sleep on the couch after an argument (except its more like the guest room)

diluc ragnvindr x reader

2.1k+ words | zhongli + alhaitham

warnings: hurt/comfort, more hurt on dilucs end im sorry baby❤️ no pronouns used

hello yes not even 24 hours later i'm back with more angst

“just forget i said anything diluc,” you sound as defeated as you feel. it could be so difficult trying to get through to a man as stubborn as him and it only upset you more when you started to lose your cool while diluc remained impassive about the whole situation. you’ve always known he had a difficult time expressing his emotions, especially the more uncomfortable ones like you both feel so swirling in your hearts right now, but that didn’t stop you from wishing he would let you in just a little more when you opened up about your own. you don’t know how long it’s been since the argument started, too long, long enough for the late afternoon sun to turn into dusk. by now your throat hurts, your eyes sting with frustrated tears, your lungs feel like they're suffocating in the heat of the room and all you want is for this to be over, to stop hearing his frustrated tone normally reserved for annoying bar goers and other annoyances being used to speak to you. how much longer could you take of this before you broke.. “i’m too tired to keep going on like this..”

“we’ll be finishing this discussion later.”

the coldness of his tone is the final blow to the cracking dam that was your tear filled eyes. with your back turned towards him, your steps quiet and shaky, you try your best to hide the quiver in your voice as you whisper a small ‘okay’ before exiting the study, softly closing the door behind you. thankfully most of the staff was gone by now and you could walk to your room with your head hanging low, without the embarrassment of them seeing you and accidentally making your tears worse. 

you know you won't be able to sleep despite how exhausted you feel but you lay down and curl up in the plush duvet anyways, hating and loving how it smells of cedar, wine and a hint of smoke. you don’t know if the scent of him is making your tears better or worse but you don’t move from the bed until the sun sets behind the open curtains and you hear the large mahogany doors of the manor shut as your beloved heads towards the city. realizing a little too late how it would affect your already fragile heart, you rise from the bed and watch from the window as his figure disappears into the night.

all at once everything feels like too much and you find you can’t handle how every inch of this room feels clouded in your frustration and sadness. you couldn’t be in here, you wouldn’t find sleep with his scent lingering on the sheets. in your upset and frustrated mind you didn’t think you’d find comfort in any reminders of him but you soon found the guest room was not much better. it hadn’t been touched in so long, probably before you even knew diluc, and not a single thing in here is a remnant of him, it’s everything you hate about the room but you weren’t sure which was better. in the end it didn’t really matter, no matter where you were you were bound to cry yourself to sleep, hating that you’d still feel this way when you had to face this argument again in the morning.

“we’ll be finishing this discussion later,” he says, forcing himself to tear his attention away from you and return to the paperwork that needed to be filled out hours ago. you were getting nowhere like this, you both knew it and the only way he knows how to calm the uncomfortable tightness through his whole chest, that creeps up his spine and rattles his stolid demeanor, is to throw himself into his work, and he does just that. 

he hardly notices the sun set and the darkness throughout the study as he gets through contract after contract. only when the words on the parchment became not enough to distract him from your argument and he was finding it harder to ignore the emotions still coursing through his veins was he pulled from his work. despite the late hour there was still so much to be done, the night was far from over for him. he slips on his coat as he exits the study to head to the city but is stopped at the edge of the steps, his eyes drifting slowly towards your closed bedroom door. he swears he could choke on his heart in his throat. he does his best to swallow it, and takes some solace in the fact the room is dark. hopefully that means you’ve found sleep.

he doesn’t even make it to the city before every ounce of his frustrations is used to fuel the burning flames in every swing of his claymore; every hilichurl, every abyss mage and treasure hoarder that was unfortunate enough to come in his path feeling the searing scorch of the uncrowned king of mondstadt. 

as enemies lay defeated before him, proof of his anger, the feelings raging inside him turn from irritation at you for being stubborn, to confused frustration about the whole situation, to guilt ridden self loathing about his blindness and bullheadedness. why is it only now, as he analyzes the fight over and over, that he sees the tears pooling in your eyes, that he truly hears your words and that all you said came from nothing but concern for his health, all because you loved him and cared for him. it was him who was being stubborn. he pushed you away, he kept you at arms distance when you were so ready to accept all of him and tonight he pushed you even further from his heart but that was something he never wanted. without you -

his claymore clanks on the ground beside him as he tears off a sullied glove and rubs the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger before running his hand through his frazzled locks, trying to compose himself. archons he hates this. he hates arguing with you. he hates feeling so far away from you even though he knows he has no one else to blame but himself. he hates seeing you cry and even more than that, he detests being the one to cause your tears.

his aching heart leads him home, sending a plea to the universe that you’re still asleep and you will stay asleep as he holds you tightly against him, not caring how desperate his grip will be. he knows he messed up and when you awake tomorrow he’ll apologize from the bottom of his heart and keep his promise to do better, accept his consequences but tonight he can't be away from you any longer.

with quiet footsteps he makes his way up the grand staircase and to your shared bedroom, shaking hands quietly closing the door behind him. the sweet smell of you wafts faintly in the air and lessens the pressure tightly in his chest. hanging his coat on its hanger by the door, shedding his vest and changing from his day clothes to something more suited for sleep he wants nothing more than to crawl into bed with you. but as he steals glances at the bed, while normally hard to make out much through the drapes on the canopy, he notices how empty the bed looks. it has his heart pounding in his chest but he remains rational, it's dark and you often like to curl up, it’s oka-

he pulls back the drapes on your side of the bed, slowly at first, but when he sees the bed is completely devoid of you his body goes rigid, the heat his worried heart flares up nearly catching the drapes on fire. letting out what was supposed to be a breath to relax him, to not let his mind run with the worst of assumptions, with the fear he refused to let form fully until now- was this fight really enough for you to leave like this? had he lost you thanks to no other than himself, rather than the darkness that usually took those he loved- of perhaps he was the dar- no diluc. get a grip. 

he had to think rationally before he burned all of teyvat down in search of you.

plenty of times you’ve fallen asleep on the couch while waiting for him to return, he hadn’t even thought to look there when he came home- his tunnel vision bringing him to the place you should be. gripping tightly onto the banister, he quickly makes his way down to the parlor and feels his barely held together calm slip completely when you’re nowhere to be found. 

every door, even ones that don’t make sense- closets, the pantry, the cellar- are thrown open in search of you. every guest room that hasn't seen a guest in so long has the master's attention, one by one turning up empty, taking more of his sanity until he feels like he's suffocating. there’s only one more guest room left and he doesn’t waste a moment opening the door and lighting the candle by the bookshelf to illuminate the room and hopefully you. 

he honestly isn’t sure how he makes it to the bed. he swears once he sees you laying in the normally untouched sheets his knees threaten to give way but nothing could stop him from holding you. he had to, if he didn't, what was the possibility this wouldn’t be real or that you’d slip right through his grasp while he was unable to do anything.. even if that chance was miniscule, it wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. he couldn’t imagine his life without you, more than anything else in this world he loved you.

shaking hands that grip and pull you harder than they intended to make it impossible not to be stirred from your restless sleep but you don’t question who it is, this warmth could only belong to him. you attempt to sit up to get a better look at him, to rub the sleepiness from your puffy eyes, but his arm wrapped around your middle and his other hand buried in your hair holds you steady against him, your face buried in the crook of his neck, tickled by soft vermillion locks.

“‘dil-”

“please forgive y/n..” he pleads softly. “i’m sorry for being so stubborn, i regret you see that part of me from time to time but y/n.. i.. i love you more than i know how to express.. i will do better for you.  i can’t- i can’t lose you.”

“lose me?” your tired mind finally registers just how hard his heart is beating against your chest, how his breath is uneven, that his grip on you keeps growing tighter with each passing moment. it's almost crushing but you don’t protest, you need it just as badly as he does. pressing your head against his shoulder, accepting him completely, you speak honestly and hope he’ll hear the love behind your words. “‘luc, i’m not going anywhere.”

“i don’t know what i’d-”

“my love, you don’t need to worry about that,” your lips find his exposed neck and you place a tender kiss against his porcelain skin. “i’ll always be by your side. nothing will change that.”

you swear you feel his heart skip a beat. “i do not deserve you.”

“that is far from the truth. you are deserving love and everything you could ever hope for-”

“you are all i hope for, all i need…”

his confessions of love continue, each one stealing your breath away, melting away any lingering sadness from your fight. he leaves you blushing, speeches and you can’t help but cling to him. all of his promises, all of his apologies, were so full of honesty and love, they consumed you, dilucs love encompassed you and you melted against him, your heart so full you didn’t know what else to do but cry.

somewhere in the eternal warmth of his love and words he had lifted you up higher to rest his forehead against yours, to feel your touch, leaning into every brush of your fingers behind his ear as you moved hair out of his face and returned his love in kind. 

only celestia would know how long you spent spilling the contents of your hearts until tears of love and pure exhaustion brought you both to sleep in each other's embrace, in a bed that wasn’t your own. but it didn’t matter, wherever you were together the flames of your hearts burned brightest and couldn’t be torn asunder. 

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc ragnvindr angst #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin impact angst #diluc #diluc angst

[pseudowho]

Grey

You live a vigilante life, taking down Curses and Curse Users on commission. When finances force you to take a job from Jujutsu High, you find yourself stumbling into Nanami Kento's lap, where he has a proposition for you instead.

ThatHigurumaBathScene! But with Nanami Kento. Post Shibuya AU.

Warnings: AU!MorallyGrey Nanami Kento, Hot/ColdDom Nanami Kento, 18+, deep throat and other goodies, you know what you're here for.

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I hate to say I'm beginning to see My own reflection in my adversaries [...]

What's the price of a soul? What's its worth versus gold? I tried to beg for mine But it was already sold

Does nobody think twice? What does your hell look like? Does everyone have their price? Where they finally break

-- Sylosis, A Sign of Things to Come

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"So what can you tell me about this...Rogue sorcerer, that will make him easier to find?"

The backstreet diner was dimly lit, with a sickly orange light flickering above the window outside. Sounds and smells of greasy cooking seeped into your ears and clothes.

You swirled a spoon in your mug, already pissed off with the Jujutsu High representative, who seemed to find new ways to be spectacularly unhelpful with every answer he gave.

"He uses...a blunt blade of sorts. Wrapped in white cloth. He usually wears a suit. A tall man, I hear."

"Tall and in a suit. Right. That narrows it down. Thanks a lot."

The representative bristled. "You come highly recommended, despite being...unconventional," he sneered at you,  "The sorcerer in question has been tracked to somewhere in this vicinity." A marked map, along with a slim folder, was tossed across the table to you. The representative stood, brushing imaginary crumbs off his suit. "You know your task. Convince him to come back and work for Jujutsu High again, or eliminate him. He's too unpredictable. He threatens the fabric of sorcerer society."

You were silent, appraising the folder's contents. "Threatens the fabric of sorcerer society," you scoffed. They said the same about you. Any sorcerer acting independently of the higher-ups' control, whether a danger to good people or not, was seen as a danger, a rogue element. You would make your own assessment of the man, if you found him.

For now, it was late, the sun long gone down. You had insisted upon all expenses paid, alongside a generous wage, and were surprised when your price was agreed upon immediately. As such, a very exclusive hotel had a room reserved for you, for as long as you needed it. It was of no real comfort to your sinking loneliness, but a warm bed came second to a warm companion, when living on the move never guaranteed a good night's sleep. Picking up the folder and your bags, you headed to your hotel, to begin your hunt for the nameless rogue sorcerer first thing in the morning.

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The hotel had a beautiful restaurant, you considered, sipping your wine with quiet hums of approval. Leaning forwards, your chin on your arched fingers, you pondered over dessert. As you perused the menu, you barely glanced at the tall figure pressing briefly against your side on his way past your table.

"Excuse me," murmured a low, smooth voice. A spiced, warm cologne filled your senses as you turned briefly, watching a tall blond figure walk away from you. You thought nothing more of it.

After dinner, on your way up the hotel room's corridors, you felt through all of your pockets, certain you had picked up your key card, but hopelessly unable to find it.

By the time you reached room number seventy-three, you were forced to accept you had lost it. Yet, you were about to turn on your heels and head back to Reception when you noticed the door, already slightly open. Sensing a trap, and holding little but disdain for traps, you walked in with confidence, closing the door behind you, locking it.

Scanning the room, you called out; "I'm not that easily spooked. I'm not trapped in here with you. You're trapped in here with me."

You heard a low, sultry chuckle from the bathroom, the gentle swish of water sounding as something shifted in it. You may have been forced to eat your words, when a rush of Cursed energy that was so powerful, so heavy, hit you, a sandstorm on a desert. You had a sinking realisation that your rogue sorcerer may have hunted you down, before you'd hunted him.

"Are you going to come in?" the smooth voice called from the bathroom, as you forced yourself to take a breath. "I don't bite." Shaking yourself off, you pressed your body flat to the wall, concealed, as you pulled open the bathroom door. A few moments passed, and nothing happened. You heard the man, humming a song to himself. Slow swishes of water.

Glancing in, your tummy twisted as you took in the sight before you. Lying spread-eagled in the full bathtub, fully-clothed, was a man as well-grown and vast as his Cursed energy. Long legs, clad in an expensive black suit, and thick thighs pressed over the lip of the tub, wet clothes clinging to every peak and mountain of the man's body, leaving little to the imagination. In his hands, a small pair of dark glasses. His face, as of yet, not visible, but his left hand and his neck were covered in thick, red burn scars.

"Somebody's been using my bath," you offered, more nervous than you sounded. Heat pooled in your belly as the man chuckled again.

"Does that make me Goldilocks?" he asked, "I always thought I was more of a Daddy Bear." He lifted his head, looking at you now, and you blushed. Outstandingly handsome, even with deep scarring, you groaned inwardly to yourself, why are the problematic ones always so handsome?

"I've heard a lot about you," the blond man mused, swirling the water with his fingertips, his visible slim brown eye burning up and down your body, and you felt so completely seen, feeling his gaze burn even through his eye patch.

Outwardly cool, you smiled slightly at him, eyes narrowing; "Then you probably already know what I'm here for." The man sighed, in equal measures amused and exasperated.

"Jujutsu High have been after me returning to their sloppy little books for years. What did they think sending you after me would do?" He polished his glasses, before looking to you sternly, "Unless they've recruited you, hmm? Is that it? Are you a honey-trap?" You scoffed, your blush only deepening, much to the blond man's amusement. Swiftly and to your alarm, the man began to climb out of the bath, water cascading off him. Your stomach clenched again, desire coiling within. This man is an Adonis.

He raised his hand to you as you flinched, reaching for your weapons; "Calm down. I have no interest in hurting you." The man straightened, dropping his suit-jacket to the floor with a wet slap. "Those pieces of shit at Jujutsu High, however..." He approached you slowly now, looming over you, disgust in his eyes, "...who have no regard for your wellbeing, or any of their own sorcerers and students for that matter, would happily send you to try to threaten me back, even when they know it would be a fight you could never win."

He pressed against the wall above your head with his forearm now, leaning down to your ear and whispering.

"What was it you said, Little Bear? I'm not trapped in here with you; you're trapped in here with me." Your heart thumped behind your breasts, but you raised your head to meet his eye, one hand on his chest to prevent him getting any closer. He grasped your hand, pressing it to him, "The name's Nanami Kento. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Shit shit shit. "Nanami Kento? The Nanami Kento?" you cried, "They sent me after you? You're not even--" you faltered, and Kento smirked as you caught on.

"Not even, strictly speaking, a Curse User, no," he finished for you, "Just not at their beck and call. I hunt what I want, when I want. Freelance, if you will. Just like you, Little Bear. So tell me, are you in such dire straits, a talent such as yourself, that you needed to accept me as a job?"

You huffed, head turning to the side, and Kento traced his eyes down your breasts, hardening inside his wet trousers.

"You don't only kill Curses, Nanami," you deferred, "you're a man-killer too. Your kill count is impressive to say the least."

Kento eyed you shrewdly, voice low and slow, "Would you call them men? Rapists, abusers, murderers...there are all sorts of monsters in this world." You gulped. You didn't disagree with him. It was becoming rapidly apparent that you could not complete this job. Despite his assurances that he would not hurt you, his huge frame blocking your exit, the way he had stolen your key card at the restaurant to intercept you, and the threat you posed to his vigilantism, spoke differently.

"You could always come with me," Kento purred, "we're kindred spirits already.  And a bit of company might be a pleasant change. I'll pay you whatever they promised." His soft assurances were warm and honeyed against your ear, and you felt acutely how lonely you were.

"I don't need your money," you spat, pushing him away now, furious with yourself for even considering his offer. Kento stepped reluctantly away from you, a prize which he had every reason to allow himself to be caught by. You, the stories of whose exploits Kento had drank up, coming to hunt him down? He was flattered and thrilled when his informant at Jujutsu High warned him.

"Imagine what a team we could be," Kento growled, pacing in front of you, incensed that you couldn't see how simple and beautiful the solution could be.

In truth, you saw it. You saw yourself working with this man on your shared aims. You saw yourself ridding the world of Curses and monsters without agenda, but with him. It was with a sinking feeling that you knew if you chose to go with Nanami, the brittle mutual understanding you had with Jujutsu High to leave you alone as long as you offered them occasional services, would be lost. You risked becoming an enemy, a rogue element like him.

"It's not what I came here for," you responded stiffly, Kento wide-eyed with fury at your rejection, scarred skin strained against his eye patch. You straightened, putting a brave face on your fragile resolve as you turned your back on him, grabbing the door handle. "I won't be coming with you. I'll tell Jujutsu High exactly what you think of their offer. It won't be me who bothers you anymore."

As you moved to leave, you felt strong, corded arms move around you to hold the door closed, one wrapping tightly around your waist. Your heart nearly leapt out of your mouth.

"Stay," Kento urged, pulling you back to him.

"I thought you killed rapists," you spat at him. His arms stiffened around you.

"Please, don't compare me to scum. I don't need to rape you to get you into bed with me." Despite yourself, your pulse throbbed in your ears, and between your legs. "You're lonely. I'm lonely. We have shared goals. We could defy their system together." His mouth ghosted against your neck and he was delighted to feel you shiver against his tongue.

Feeling bolder, Kento laid his hand over the back of yours, grasping, and pressing them flat together against the wall. As he leant you forwards, his teeth sank into the back of your neck, and the wetness from his suit seeped through your clothes. He was so close, you couldn't tell where you began and he ended. The urge to give in was dizzying, images of chasing a different life with this man rushing through you a mile a minute, and you felt him pause for a moment, shivering against you.

"Cold," he murmured on your neck. "Have you ever taken a bath in your clothes?" You couldn't answer him, too overwhelmed by the press of his cock, insistently rigid, against your back. He kissed your neck again, hard. "Just to feel something." His fingers, cool and rough, slipped underneath the bottom of your shirt, nails grazing against the sensitive skin of your stomach.

"I don't...Nanami, I'm not..." He groaned, still breathing heavily against you.

"I want you," he intoned against you, "Maybe you can have something better than what you came here for."

"You're...you're a stranger to me," you gasped, resolve crumbling, body crying out for affection and release.

"I don't have to be," Nanami pressed, squeezing your hand, joined with his against the wall, "so let me show you what being needed really is...and then you can decide what you want to tell Jujutsu High."

Kento turned you round to face him, his one visible warm brown eye hooded with desire, beginning to unbutton his own shirt as he stroked your jaw, maintaining eye contact. You stared him down, vulnerable, tearful and overwhelmed. His thumb swiped across your eyes, hushing you softly.

"I know you don't want me to stop...do you?" he purred, his voice low and dangerous. You trembled, never wanting to find companionship like this, but sinking into Nanami's insistent control felt so intoxicating. Increasingly fearful of your own desires, you backed away to the wall again, pursued by Nanami, who blocked you in place, his knee pressed against the wall and between your legs.

"Please..." you began, begging him for...what? Pleasure? Or escape? You warred with yourself, as Nanami finished removing his shirt, wet and peeled off his body, and gods was he a sight to behold. His taut muscles and roughly hewn burn scars drew your eyes to his chest, drinking him in. Nanami smirked, tilting your chin up to him and pulling you in firmly for a kiss which broached no argument. You gasped at the sudden intrusion and Nanami took full advantage, plundering his tongue into your mouth, filling your senses with whiskey and smoke. Your arms, numb with shock, were grasped by Nanami, one by the wrist and placed against his burned chest, and one slipped under his belt, your palm flat against the trail of hair on his abdomen, just deep enough for your fingertips to graze the base of his cock.Your fingertips flinched back, and Nanami's hand pressed over yours, holding your fingers in place, his tongue trembling against yours as he shivered.

"Do you want me to stop?" he rumbled again, his mouth beginning to make a course down your jaw and neck. Leaning away momentarily, he read your face, flushed with pleasure, tears of rage in your eyes. Nanami chuckled behind your ear, nipping your earlobe hard until you squeaked and cringed. You didn't want him to stop, but couldn't be a part of making this decision for yourself. Nanami pushed your hand deeper behind his belt, the flat of your palm now pressed hard against his throbbing erection, happy to make the decision for you. Tentatively, you squeezed him, cock pulsing enticingly against your fingers, and he groaned into your mouth.

Nanami's last reservations about your willingness fell away completely, and he grabbed your jaw roughly, his hand extending to your throat and squeezing the sides, deepening his kiss. You squeaked again, your nails digging into his chest, heat flooding through you as he maintained the pressure of your hand holding his cock behind his belt, rutting forwards into your palm. Nanami felt his pleasure beginning to peak, too early, and held his hips and your hand still for a moment,your panting breaths mingling together.

Silent, heart visibly racing through the thick veins in his neck, Kento dropped to his knees in front of you. His expression stern, determined, he gripped the front seam of your trousers and ripped them open as if they were made of paper, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time, daring you to stop him. Lifting your thighs onto his shoulders as you gasped, wordless and chest heaving, your hands fell flat against the wall behind you, and Nanami rubbed his nose and lips against your puffy folds, all but completely exposed behind your soaked underwear. You clapped your hand over your mouth to keep from crying out as he inhaled deeply through his nose, euphoric in the smell of you.

"Do you want me to stop?" he hummed, the vibrations rumbling through your clit as you moaned, a high-pitched keening sound. Instinctively, both hands came off the wall to sink into Nanami's damp blond hair, pulling hard at the roots, holding his face between the heat of your legs. Rumbling his approval, Nanami's fingers swiped your underwear to the side, his tongue delving deeply between your folds, immediately beginning to flick insistently over your clit.

All rational thoughts went out of the window as Nanami licked and sucked between your legs, full attention paid to your pleasure, as you fell apart around him, thighs squeezing his head. Nanami's strong hands cupped your bum through your trousers, kneading the plush fat as he took your clit into his lips and sucked, feeling you shake as you approached the edge.

"Do you want me to stop?" he growled, and you couldn't stop yourself from whining your displeasure as he halted just before your orgasm hit you. Giving you no chance to answer, he took your clit firmly between his lips again, mouth and tongue hot and wet between your folds as you came, crying out and trembling, both hands clawing desperately at his hair, blinded by the peppering lights in your eyes.

Giving you no time to snap back to reality, you felt yourself being lifted and heaved over Nanami's shoulder.  He kicked the bathroom door open, carrying you through to the bedroom and lounge, dimly lit by the Tokyo skyline outside. Nanami dropped you on your back onto the table, positioning you until your head hung off the edge. Neck extended as you stared up at him, panting, eyes glazed, Nanami hummed as he slowly fingered the outline of your throat, his other hand undoing his belt. You gulped, mouth watering as you realised his intentions.

Lifting his heavy cock out of his trousers, Nanami began to stroke it, thumb swiping across the leaking tip, and he looked down at you, pupils blown with lust. He pressed two fingers into your mouth, shuddering with anticipation as he felt your tongue run against his fingers, licking the precum off his fingertips.

"Do...you want me to stop?" He forced out, pupils dilating as you opened your mouth for him slowly, invitingly. "Oh, fuck," groaned Nanami, pressing his length past your lips, hissing as the sensitive tip glided over your tongue and hit the back of your throat, curving to its shape, and he bucked into you, hands gripping your jaw and throat with bruising force as you gagged around him.

Nanami pulled out for long enough for you to take a deep breath through your nose, before fucking your throat with total abandon. Your wet gags and sloppy occasional breaths sent him reeling, his fingers resting on the outer edges of your throat thrilling him as he felt his cock bully past them. Hearing Nanami cursing, his voice breaking with stuttered moans, you felt heat coil in your belly, hands reaching out to grip his wet thighs to ground yourself. You felt so used, eyes streaming into your hair as he reached down your body, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reached between your legs and curved two fingers up into your pussy, still wet from his tongue, his thumb swiping urgently over your clit. You convulsed, your hypersensitive clit tossing you into a painful second orgasm as your muscles fluttered against his curled fingers.

"Do you...do you want-- ahhh, fuck, take it take it, you're such a good girl," Nanami caged youin, hands flat on the table beside your waist, his balls hot and heavy against your nose as he came with a shout, rivers of cum trickling down your throat as you gagged, nails digging into his thighs as he rutted into your mouth, stunned by the strength of his orgasm. He pulled out of your mouth, sweaty and panting, his abs heaving in front of your face, stroking drops of his seed away from the sides of your mouth as you gasped and coughed on the table.

"Not enough," he gasped, stroking himself, half-hard already as the sight of you, spread and messy with cum on the table, "it's not enough. I'm not finished with you yet." You began to sit up, turning on the table, moving slowly towards him as he spoke again, stumbling and sweating, "Do you want me to--" Nanami was cut off by your kiss, forceful and determined as you locked your arms behind his neck.

Groaning appreciatively, carrying your weight as you locked your legs around his waist, Nanami stumbled to the bed, kicking off his trousers and beginning to rip your clothes off you. Your breasts freed, he latched aggressively onto your nipples, growling against you, completely absorbed in his plan to pound you into the mattress until you saw stars.

You bit into his shoulder blade as your trousers and underwear were flung unceremoniously aside, grabbing his cock and guiding it to your entrance, where he bottomed out in one smooth thrust, making you shriek as your pussy stretched, and you grasped onto him as you struggled to accommodate his size. Unexpectedly intimate, Nanami clasped his hand to yours, joined as he braced on his forearm above your head.

"I can't...I can't stop," Nanami choked out, slamming into you with a force that had you reeling. Barely held in place as his hips slammed yours up the bed, you locked your ankles behind Kento's hips, and he grasped you, pressing your knees to your chest until you were folded in two. Feeling his eye patch about to slip loose, and momentarily afraid you'd be disgusted by him, Nanami buried his face in your neck, grunting with every thrust as you mewled in his ear, your fingers deep in his hair, causing shivers down his spine.

You groaned, sultry and guttural, as his thick cock pounded your cervix, shuddering as you came, heat deep in your belly as Kento collapsed onto you, weak and drained as his seed filled you again, so overwhelmed by pleasure that he thought he may have seen god for a moment.

Flopping beside you on the bed, Nanami patted around above your head for his eye patch. Your hand reached up, grabbing his, lowering it to clasp together between your bodies. Nanami felt his chest clench, momentarily touched by your companionship and easy acceptance of his broken body.

"...what the hell am I going to tell Jujutsu High?" You groaned, as Nanami laughed richly, shooting you a wicked look.

"You'll come with me, then?"

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#kento nanami x you #jujustu kaisen #nanami fluff #kento nanami #kento nanami x y/n #jjk nanami #jjk #nanami kento smut #kento nanami x reader #nanami smut #jjk shibuya arc #jjk angst #jjk anime #kento nanami smut #kento x reader #kento smut #kento x y/n #nanami #nanamikento #daddy nanami #pseudowho

[withleeknow]

in the dark.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, crying, mention of blood, mention of animal abuse, not very edited lol word count: 0.6k note: oh i've had the idea for a scene like this for a whiiiile now and i was hella motivated to finally write it after watching skzflix 😂 (twas supposed to be used for a jk fic but oh well, sorry jungoo)

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

"It was stupid of you."

"Okay."

"And reckless."

"Okay."

"And dangerous."

"Okay."

"And stupid. Did I already mention that? Because it was fucking stupid."

"Oka-"

"Fuck!" you snap. "Why do you keep saying that? Is it the only word in your vocabulary?"

Minho shrugs defeatedly, like none of this matters to him, but his guilty eyes tell you otherwise. He purses his lips for a second, before he tells you, "What else am I supposed to say?"

"Say you're sorry? Say you'll stop doing it? Say you won't put me through this again?"

He stays quiet, and to be honest, you expected him to. He's too stubborn for his own good and he's too good for his own sake. He's got the kindest heart you know, and you will always love him for it, but...

It's hard to make peace with it when he shows up at your doorstep every few weeks with bruises all over, like an abandoned dog asking you to take him in and put him back together.

It's hard to keep track of all the reasons he tells you to justify his borderline foolhardy actions. The last time it happened, it was because he ran into some psycho abusing the stray cats near his neighborhood. Tonight, it was because he saw someone get mugged on the street.

It's even harder to be okay with the fact that he's infinitely selfless and kind because you love your friend.

You love your friend.

You heave a sigh, going back to the task at hand because you know there's no convincing Minho otherwise. Sometimes, you wish he'd think of himself, that he'd put himself over others. Sometimes, you wish he'd think about you.

You asked him about it once, why he kept showing up to yours instead of going to a hospital. Instead of going home.

He only replied, simple and earnest, "I just want to be here with you."

You soak a cotton swab in rubbing alcohol before you press it gently against the cut on his cheek, wincing when he does. Then you move to the cut on the bridge of his nose, the one on his jawline, the one on the corner of his mouth...

You don't meet his eyes, but you feel his steady gaze on you the entire time you tend to his wounds. You're aware of how your hands are shaking, the way every breath you exhale is trembling, and that there are tears ready to overflow any second now.

The first one spills as you work on cleaning the blood off the corner of his mouth.

Then, suddenly, the cotton swab is no longer in your hand. Minho carelessly flings it elsewhere, and before you can scold him for interrupting you, his palms are on your face, delicate fingers cradling your jaw.

You blink. Just a split second, and his lips are on yours.

He's soft, and warm, and sweet, despite the bitterness that's been on your tongue the entire night. You love him. You do.

And he kisses you like he loves you too, tenderly and wholeheartedly.

You want to keep him with you forever, to never let him go, to not have to see him get hurt ever again. You don't think it's possible for you to endure it anymore, now that you know how it feels to have him like this.

When he pulls away, you're dazed. Rightfully so.

Minho doesn't stray from you for too long. He lets you catch your breath before he's leaning in once more.

Another kiss. Three seconds.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles against your lips, his tone so painfully sincere.

Another kiss. Four seconds.

"I'll stop doing it."

Then another one. Five seconds.

"I won't put you through this again."

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 03.11.2023]

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #skz #lee know #lee minho

[sadienita]

SKZ Reaction - When you’re not very cuddly or touchy

Chan

Okay he, like, kinda likes it. We already know he loves the members that run from his affection. How many times have we seen him capture Minho or Seungmin with the biggest grin on his face the whole time? If you don't mind a hug from time to time he’ll honestly have a lot of fun. He kinda loves that you don’t want his cuddles every second of the day but it will lead to him sneaking up on you for a surprise hug and kiss or else chasing you down the hall, giggling the whole way until he tackles you onto the bed. He will let you go quickly each time though, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. And he’ll always assess your mood before playing around too, if he sees you’re having a rough day he’ll ask how he can make it better, only ever touching you if you request physical comfort. He is a little sad that you aren’t up for bedtime cuddles most nights but more than once you’ve rolled over in your sleep and somehow ended up in his arms and it always melts his heart when it happens. Some part of you will always seek out some form of comfort from him no matter the situation.

Minho

He’s very okay with this. He doesn’t like being touchy all the time and honestly prefers small touches here and there to constantly being in contact. He will be a little sad if you don’t want to sit on his lap often, that’s maybe the one thing he would like but he respects your boundaries and he wouldn’t be happy knowing you were uncomfortable on his lap anyway. He loves the interactions you do have. He loves staring at you and giving you a soft smile and a slow blink when you catch him, a silent way to say “I love you.” He loves the light way you touch his arm to get his attention, like a feather. He likes the way you’ll absentmindedly link your pinkie with his if you’re both quietly taking in a beautiful view. He loves the gentle, soft way you touch his face to move his hair or remove the eyelash that’s fallen on his cheek. He likes your small, quiet way of loving each other.

Changbin

He doesn’t mind it too much. He likes a more casual touch with you so at first it’s not an issue but over time he has to find where the line is. He likes having an arm around you but knows you get uncomfortable if he does it for too long. It ends up getting reserved for when you’re out at a party together, a quiet reassurance that he’s right beside you. He does like holding your hand but he won’t initiate if it isn’t your thing. He will, however, giggle like a lovesick fool if you lace your fingers with his no matter the situation. He really adores it and cherishes those moments. He can be playful with it too. When he can tell you’re in a good mood he’ll suddenly try to scoop you up or if you’re very unlucky, he’ll run at you and grab you so he can use the momentum to spin you around; he is not always careful of your surroundings. He thinks it's fun to catch you off guard and make you squeal or yell, chuckling to himself every time.

Hyunjin

He’s honestly somewhat similar. He doesn’t need to be in contact with you 24/7 and he likes that you feel the same way. It takes so much pressure off that you don’t constantly expect hand-holding or cuddling. In fact, his favourite thing is being alone together with you. When you get to the point of comfortable silence he’ll start inviting you to come sit with him while he paints, or to come and hang out in the dance studio while he practices. Your presence makes him feel so calm and happy and he knows if he wants your attention it’ll be easy to get. When he’s painting he likes to reach over and touch you from time to time, just to remind you he’s right there. He’ll show you what he’s working on from time to time. He loves when you bring something to work on yourself and share your own progress with him. The fact that you value his opinion makes him feel so incredibly special. When he’s dancing he can be a bit silly, a grin drawing over his face before he flops his sweaty body on top of you simply to annoy. He does delight in that. When he does touch you it’s always so gentle, adjusting your clothes, fixing your hair or head covering, pressing a very soft kiss to your nose, forehead, or knuckles. He loves treating you with the utmost gentleness.

Jisung

It’s all fine at first. He’s nervous when you first get together, not wanting to screw it all up. And knowing that you’re not that into skinship means he can just avoid it. But as time goes on he wants to. He wants to hold your hand and hug you and kiss you and cuddle with you. For a long time he’ll just try to swallow those needs down, as if they aren’t filling him to the brim. But eventually, during a particularly hard week, he’s desperate to ask you for comfort. He still doesn’t call you over but when he misses plans with you you show up at his place and take no time at all to cradle him, wrapping him in your arms and slowly calming him down. He finally admits after that that he wants some contact sometimes. It takes negotiations and trial and error to find where the most comfortable boundaries are. He likes sitting next to you during movies, feeling your leg pressed against his, and he likes when you fall asleep on his shoulder. He likes when you doodle along his skin sometimes, absentmindedly. He likes when you play with his hair, it always makes him feel so cozy and sleepy. And he loves that when he’s struggling that he doesn’t even need to ask, you’re quick to wrap him in a warm hug and give him the comfort he craves, holding him together whenever he’s close to falling apart.

Felix

He has by far the most trouble with it. He wants contact with you all the time. He wants to put his arms around you. He wants to cuddle you. He wants to feel close to you. He does his best to respect your boundaries because the last thing he wants is for you to be uncomfortable with him. He stops himself every time he goes to touch you absentmindedly, bringing his hands back to himself. But he doesn’t consider his own desires much and over time it puts a strain on your relationship. He gets very needy for verbal affirmations of your love and constantly tries to do everything for you to prove that he cares. It’s when you get annoyed with how overbearing he can be about it and ask him to stop that he breaks down crying, admitting that he doesn’t know how to love you the right way. It devolves into both of you crying and sitting with each other, holding his hands the whole time. It takes more tears before he admits that he doesn’t feel loved, that he needs some form of contact and it makes you realize that he’s been so wrapped up in your needs and you’ve neglected his. From that point on you try to find where your comfort lies and what feels okay. You find that a quick hug and soft kiss feels alright. You find that holding hands for a little while feels alright. You find that small things like feeding each other food and letting him do small tasks for you makes him so happy. And you find that in cold weather, a little bit of cuddling for a short while is nice. You both pay attention both to your own levels of comfort and the other’s feelings much more.

Seungmin

He thought he would be fine with it but he realizes he touches you absentmindedly a lot more than he thought he would. A gentle hand on your back to let you know he’s passing behind you in the kitchen, reaching out to cup your cheek and run his thumb over it, grabbing your hand in crowded place, a back hug when he wakes up to find that despite you sleeping over, you’ve gone wandering off somewhere else in the apartment and he comes to find you. It definitely causes tension, feeling and seeing the way you tense up when his fingertips find your skin. It reminds him quickly but he seems to have a hard time not initiating in the first place. It takes you getting frustrated with him before you two agree to sit down and talk through where the boundaries actually are. In time he realizes that you certainly don’t like surprise touches and you realize that he feels a little unloved if you never touch him at all. You adopt little touches, petting or playing with his hair, pressing stray kisses to him as you pass, pulling his hand into your lap and gently playing with it while you watch dramas. He grows to tell you when he’s going to touch you, giving you a verbal indication that he’s nearby first and keeping his touches more brief when he does give them to you.

Jeongin

He ends up pretty comfortable with this. He likes to hug you or to hold your hand from time to time but it makes him shy to do it too much. And he doesn’t like doing it in public or around other people, feeling a bit embarrassed every time it happens. Instead, he loves other ways to show you he cares. He loves dressing you up. He will beg you to let him pick your outfits and gets so excited when you say yes. He’ll leave gentle touches on you when he helps you with any jewelry he’s picked out. He ends up touching you the most while posing for pics, both of you invested in getting a good picture. He does like to play with your rings if you’re wearing any but he lets you give him your hand before he does so. He also loves when you fix his outfit or hair; reaching out to straighten or adjust something. He’ll keep hugs brief and likes just to be near you more than anything. You bring him a sense of comfort whether touching him or not and relishes that.

#i feel like i always see the reactions where reader is super cuddly #and never the opposite #so um this is that #aksjdkashkd i do not expect this to do well #but hey maybe some of yall arent too touchy so maybe this will resonate with you #also if you have like a reaction request my ask box is open #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #skz reactions #skz imagines #bang chan imagines #lee know imagines #changbin imagines #hyunjin imagines #han imagines #felix imagines #seungmin imagines #i.n imagines

[princessbrunette]

one thing about kook!pope, he’s a know-it-all — and if that’s not enough, he’s also nosy.

he’d developed an interest in you from seeing you around. quiet, reserved, sweet above all. when seeing you talking away to notorious fratboy, rafe cameron at a party — pope decided now was a better time than ever to break the streak of simply watching you from afar.

his voice appeared from behind you after what seemed to be a solid minute of watching you stare at rafe, waiting for him to give you some kind of attention from across the room. he doesn’t, continuing to shotgun beer and spill it obnoxiously on the floor solving all mysteries of why frat party floors were always sticky. “rafe cameron is a bad pick for you.” its said so matter-of-factly that it shocks you out of your trance, whipping round with wide eyes to look at where it came from.

pope stands there, arms crossed over his chest almost smugly, staring you down with a small smile. you knew of him, infact he always kind of fascinated you. total academic weapon, yet in with the cool crowd and his attitude definitely reflected this. he had to be so smart that he knew how to masquerade, you’d decided in fleeting thought.

“excuse me?” is all you manage and he takes a sip of his drink, slowly wandering round to stand at your side, the two of you observing the party. he swallows the bitter beverage with a squint, scratching above his top lip as he turns to you.

“rafe. you were talking to him. that guy will chew you up and spit you out, you know that right?” he speaks and you blink at him once more. you want to be offended at his audacity to comment on your choices but you’re too intrigued to step away.

“what makes you say that?”

he inhales slowly as he stares at the blonde boy — the two of you going totally unnoticed side by side like a pair of ghosts, pope playing wallflower with you just for a moment. “because he thinks it’s cool to do that. i mean, look at him. does he look respectful in the slightest? i’m only offering my two cents because i think you could do better.”

you’re confused, but flattered and your lip curls up just a tad. “yeah?” you ask unsurely. it felt nice to be seen. “how’d you figure? you don’t know me.”

“don’t i?” hes quick to respond with a smirk, like the mystery was exciting to him. “you were invited to this party, and if you haven’t already noticed i kind of know everyone. i’ve seen you in the library. you’re a hard worker. i can tell by the way you’re able to ignore everyone around you to get your head down to work that you’ll go places.” he praises, and you’re hooked, staring up at him for more. he turns his body to rafe, gesturing out to him with an arm. “rafe? not so much. he’s flunking every class, rumour has it he’s close to dropping out, daddy issues, coke problem, doesn’t tip waiters and he doesn’t go down on girls.”

the last sentence shocks you, but what shocks you more is the speed at which “do you?” flies out your mouth before you can stop it. your eyes widen, and he looks at you and chuckles — but not in a mean way. “wouldn’t you like to know?” he beats around the answer as he finally turns his fully body to you.

“pope heyward. am i making any sense at all with this whole warning thing?” he holds a hand out for you to shake and you smile. it’s been a long time since someone’s offered you a handshake, and from his slightly dorkish cadence this was the final nail in the coffin to prove your own theory in that he had to be the biggest nerd in high school.

“yes.” you nod jerkily as you grasp his hand and shake it before telling him your own name.

“nice, i like that.” he compliments before a group of guys begin to call his name, hollering something about beer pong. he laughs, before turning his attention back to you. “think about what i said. don’t go with an asshole like him, trust me it’s bad news. you’re way better than that. anyway, it was nice to meet you.” you don’t realise he’s still grasping your hand until he brings your knuckles to his lips and presses a parting kiss there— hand lingering on yours for a moment and letting go, taking a step past you to greet his friends.

as he leaves, he turns back to you — now standing at your other side. “oh, and to answer your question — yes. i do go down on girls. i think men who don’t should be castrated.” he speaks so simply, before just like that he’s disappeared into a sea of bro’s, a fresh drink thrusted into his palm.

rafe was staring over the crowd to check on you now, to see if you were still fawning over him. however, your eyes were on someone else now — still watching the back of popes head as the smile lingered on your face, fingertips ghosting over your knuckles where he kissed you.

#pope heyward prompt #kook!pope

[deantfwinchester]

Hands

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AU, Joel x Teacher!Reader as usual (let's just assume these No-Outbreak Joels are all the same couple tbh), established relationship

Summary: Friday nights are reserved for sweatpants and relaxation, of course. But when Joel's work week leaves his hands a bit worse for wear, the night may need to include a break for a little extra attention.

Warnings: extreme fluff once again. expect it at this point. i'm a one-trick pony, i fear.

A/N: finally got around to putting one of my many bulleted notes-app idea fics into paragraph form again! Will we get another one before the year's out? It's anyone's guess! -_-

——————

Friday nights are your favorites. No dinner to cook or rattling rolodex of tasks to come in the next twelve hours give you both a little room to breathe — to gently unwind from yourselves and into one another. It’s typically quiet, and when it isn’t, the volume is born of laughter from games or stories the three of you share.

Joel comes home from an exceptionally long week. You know he’s been on site every day—the whole team has—working longer and longer hours to wrap up the latest project before the client’s deadline. You’re pleased to hear his keys rattle in the door not long after five o’clock, and relieved because the air’s rapidly cooling earlier each night. Daylight Savings time is coming to an end, and today he barely beat the sunset getting home. 

You know the hour means little, however, and are less than astonished at the weary grin he bears on catching sight of you and Sarah on the couch when he walks in the room. She’s already got her purse on her shoulder, eager to head out when her friends arrive, and she’s excitedly recounting the events of the trailer for the movie they’ll be catching tonight. He stands idly in the doorway for a moment, just listening to the two of you chat. You make brief eye contact and smile back, assuring you know he’s there. Neither of you wants to interrupt her avid storytelling.  

“Well don’t you sound excited?” he says when she pauses to catch her breath. You both turn to greet him, and he moves more quickly toward you as you attempt to rise, gesturing to you to remain seated. He’ll come to you both.

He plants a kiss on top of Sarah’s head before leaning down to kiss you as he does each night. You place a hand on his chest and pause when he pulls back to get a good look at his face. You see the fatigue in his droopy-eyed smile, but can’t say anything to him. You already know it’s mirrored in your own expression.

The doorbell rings before either of you can speak again, and Sarah jumps up to head out the door. You wish her a good night, and he follows her to the door, checking for a familiar parent in the driver’s seat and seeing her off. You see him hand her some cash to go with his reminder to make good decisions, and he hugs her. You can’t help but giggle when she takes it with a wide smile.

He turns to you laughing when he sees she’s in the car, and shuts the door.

“What?” he asks, brow furrowed in confusion, but amused at the sound of your laughter.

“Smart girl. I gave her a 20 before you got home,” you grin back at him. He stills in understanding and rolls his eyes. 

“You couldn’t tell me that two minutes ago?” he asks you in mock exasperation.

“But it’s so much funnier this way!” you add, giggling again. You both know he’s wrapped completely around her finger, though she so innocently does not. It’s one of the first things you noticed about him. One of the first reasons you fell in love. 

He shakes his head fondly, and places a hand on his stomach, which begins to grumble softly at him. You raise your eyebrows and meet his gaze. “Any thoughts on dinner?” he asks, and you grin back at him in amusement.

“Handled. Pizza’s already on the way,” you respond and he feigns relief. 

“You’re brilliant.” he says, walking up and grabbing your hand on the back of the couch. You run your thumb in little circles on the back of his hand and give it a light squeeze.

“Duh. Now go get changed! It’s do-nothing time starting now,” you respond, patting the top of his hand in encouragement.

“You read my mind,” he says, leaning down for another quick peck before heading off into the bedroom to change out of his work clothes. Naturally, you’ve been in sweats for over an hour now, shedding your own outfit immediately, peeling the school day from your skin. The unspoken uniform for these Friday nights is extremely specific.

The pizza arrives before Joel can even return from the bedroom in a feat of incredible timing. You’re gathering plates and filling glasses with ice when he emerges ready for the night. He moves forward to help you grab the dinner, but you shoo him away to the couch. 

“Nope, I got this. You sit,” you say, lightly shoving his chest away. You leave no room for argument. He grumbles a bit and raises his hands, backing away to the living room. You follow behind him with the pizza and plates, and return once more for the drinks before settling next to him on the couch. He sits on one end, and you sit in the middle, leaving little room between you.

You lean forward, putting pizza on one plate you pass to Joel before grabbing your own, then settle back against the cushion, both sinking in so comfortably a nearly audible sigh fills the room. The comfort in this relief is palpable, and the decompressing can begin. You grab the remote and put on the series you’ve been binging together recently, more for background noise than anything else. 

A few slices and sitcom episodes deep, you’ve set your plates down on the coffee table. With your bellies comfortably full, you’ve somehow slumped deeper, though Joel into the couch and you into his side. His arm is draped over the back of the couch behind you, and you’re nearly laying on him, head propped against his shoulder. 

You hold his free hand in both of yours and absently play with his fingers for a second when you notice the aggressive wear this week has lent his hands. They’re a raw, angry red at the knuckles; his nails are cracked in some places and peeling in others. Moving your fingers gently down toward his wrist, you focus more directly on the state of his, catching sight of a few hangnails and stretched cuticles that can’t be comfortable. He looks down as you begin to worry them beneath the soft pads of your own fingers, and you meet his gaze, brows furrowed as you look between his face and hands. 

“Keep doing that, please,” he says with a sigh before closing his eyes, “I wait all day to feel your hands on mine. They’re so soft.” He lifts your hand to his lips before pressing a feather-light kiss to your knuckles. He loves the delicate, reverent way you play with his hands, like they’re small, fragile things in need of tender attention. You take his hand once again into both of yours and gently rub it between them, looking back up at him, concerned. 

“How do yours feel? They look like they’re hurting you,” you gnaw a bit at your bottom lip in thought, and he tries to assuage your worry.

“I’m alright, darlin’. Nothing worse than I’m used to,” he says. He knows from your deepening frown that you’re less than satisfied with this response.

You couldn’t care less if he’s used to it, he shouldn’t be. You know the protective callouses forged there don’t mean those hands are unfeeling in the slightest.

“Wait there. I’ll be right back,” you say, rising from his side and hastening to the bedroom. It’s his turn to frown now, both in confusion and at the sudden draft that’s appeared at his side.

You return not a minute later with a small tote around your wrist, and hands filled with half the manicure items you own. You sit down next to him and unpack, laying clippers, files, cuticle oil, and two different hand creams — a lotion he’s seen you use regularly, and a jar that must be a new addition — on the coffee table in front of you, along with the selected polishes and remover you had in the tote bag. You’ve been meaning to do your nails, anyway. 

Joel looks incredulously at you, unsure where this is going. Not that he’s a stranger to nail polish — he raised a little girl on his own long enough to have worn the rainbow on his fingers, but tonight? 

“Sorry, no color for you today, honey. Certainly not before these are healed,” you say. He’d chip half your handiwork away by Monday afternoon anyway the way he’s been working lately. Facing him, you cross your legs on the couch and smile, holding your hand out expectantly for his. He raises his eyebrows at you, but places his palm gently in your own. 

You grab the clippers and get to work on the hangnails first. Any peeling skin or cuticle right there at the nail you clip as gently as possible, making note of the reddened and slightly swollen areas at the base of his nail from which they protrude. Those will need careful attention at the end. He doesn’t squirm or react in any way, but you know they’re more sensitive than he’s letting on. 

Next, you clip back any breakages and unevenness in the nails themselves. You’d never find Joel Miller with dirty hands — he gets them clean as soon as he gets home, but all the scrubbing it takes to keep them that way takes its toll. A little trim at their length might help reduce the need for so much each day upon his return. 

After clipping, you grab his first hand again and rest it gently in the palm of your left while your right files steadily to even any rough edges left behind and prevent further injury. It won’t take much, but you’re sure to get them smooth so they won’t catch on anything or bother him later on. 

The cuticle oil is next. He looks at it questioningly, clearly a bit skeptical, only having seen it a few times when you or Sarah used it. He’s never ventured so far himself. While you brush it gently onto each of his nails, you explain its purpose. 

“This’ll just help your nails get a little stronger. It’ll get them hydrated a bit, keep ‘em  from peeling so much when your hands get dry. It’s kinda crazy how much better this stuff is for your nails than even water is. Water’ll make the peeling worse, actually. Weird, huh?”

He just nods along, listening to you, content to learn something new as always. Finger by finger, you massage the oil into his nail and nail bed. After the first round you go back through to massage again, both to make sure no oily feeling is left behind, and to prolong the rapidly concluding process. He could use the attention, anyway.

Finally, you pick up the jar he identified as a new addition: a canister of a hand repair cream labeled for “Healing of dry or cracked skin.”

“Never seen that one before,” he says, reading the label, “What d’ya need this for? Your hands are never dry! I think they’ve been soft every time I’ve held 'em since the day I met ya,” he smiles at you, and you bashfully brush off the compliment. 

“I don’t need it. I use the other one,” you say with finality, opening the jar and pulling the first of his hands into yours. You don’t grab a large dollop of the stuff. You don’t want him to feel a disconcerting weight, grease, or stickiness from this unfamiliar formula, so you get a little and begin. You add a bit more each time you reach a new spot on his knuckles, palms, wrists. 

You take your time, gently massaging into those roughened, tender hands far more than a simple healing salve. He understands why you have the jar now, looking at you knowingly, and you smile back. No words need be exchanged.

Once you’ve finished the last finger and the last stroke on his hands, you squeeze the one in your own, then pat it gently with your other, “There. Gotta feel better now, yeah?”

Joel stares at you like he just watched you reach up and place the moon in the sky, if for no reason other than to light his path. 

“Like you wouldn’t believe. Thank you sweetheart,” he says, squeezing your hand back and smiling reverently at you. You blush beneath his gaze and look away, unsure what to do with the admiration rolling off of him in waves. You lean back against the couch, file in hand as you start going at your own nails. 

“Good. Don’t let 'em go that long again, either. Where they start hurtin’ ya? Maybe we oughta make this a weekly thing. Manicure night? Been needing someone to do my right hand,” you grin, wiggling the corresponding fingers at him. He smiles back at you, then reaches over and pulls you toward his side, back to your original position laying against him, head resting once again on his shoulder.

“Sounds like a plan,” he says fondly into your hair, planting a kiss to your head in the process. You get comfortable once more, foregoing any plans to do your own nails tonight. You both know those “manicure nights” will be for him — and you’ve got Sarah to do your right hand already, when you do hers.

You grab the same free hand once again and admire your work, then lace your fingers between his own, and rest your twined hands on his leg. You’re satisfied knowing the hand behind you on the couch is comfortable now, healing from the week’s toils and melting into the comforting haze of the early autumn evening.

#oops i did it again #fluff without plot #this is my only genre #I just need more SFW care directed at this man #is that so much to ask #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #joel miller imagine #no outbreak!joel miller #no outbreak au #pre outbreak!joel

[lucrativesoul]

one of my favorite headcanon tropes is roommate!leon. friends to lovers brainrot anyone?

Leon would start out reserved until you two became comfortable with each other. He’s normally quiet anyway, as you have come to learn, but you also learned that comfortable meant him not being afraid to sit a little too close to you just because it’s cozy for him.

Food is his comfort item. This was discovered very fast. (“Leon, I just bought this whole box of cheez-its two days ago. I didn’t even have any!” “Leon, those were my gummy worms. I would have bought you some.” Once you learned to accommodate his black hole stomach, you found it oddly fun to cook for him, he was always looking to try new recipes.)

He would become overly friendly and caring when he wants something from you. 9 times out of 10, it was because he was hungry. (The one time was when he just wanted company late at night and couldn’t sleep.)

He would always have the courtesy to ask you if something he is doing would bother you, even if it is something you barely even noticed. (“Is my music too loud?” “Should I move my stuff off the table?”)

Leon would slowly start learning your every day routine. What you did on early mornings, how you set up meals around a work or class schedule, and what time you tend to go to bed. He found himself adapting his own around yours, keeping peaceful company unless you were in your room, door closed.

Sometimes, Leon would come home late from work. He tried as best as he could to be quiet so you could stay asleep, but he would always walk into something. It would prompt you to then walk out of your room and just stare at him. (“Leon, really?” “I… I’m sorry, I don’t know how the kitchen table got right there.” You were already awake and waiting for him to come home, but you liked seeing him stumble over himself to apologize to you.)

Once Leon had gotten word that he would be going on prolonged work missions, you could see he was guilty about leaving you alone. You comforted him as best you could, but you were often lonely without his presence. You did lots of cat ownership contemplating during those times.

While he was mostly a heavy sleeper, and could fall asleep anywhere, there were times you would wake up to noise in the kitchen. You would investigate to find him rummaging through the cabinets, looking for snacks. (“I thought you said you bought more cheez-its.” “I did, Leon. You ate them.” “Oh.” “Come on, there’s some in my room. I was hiding them from you, but you can take them.”)

Leon’s love language was very much quality time. You knew his job was stressful, and your schedule was often not fixed, so on the nights you were both home, he wanted to be in your presence, whether it be watching something together, or doing your own thing in the same room. He didn’t want those nights to end, because it always meant you had to go back to your own room. (You didn’t want these nights to end, and you wish Leon would just tell you that you can fall asleep in his room.)

No matter what the temperature is in the house, it seems like it never bothers him, or rather that he gets hot way too fast. This man is seen more often without a shirt than with one, not that it was totally a nuisance to you. You knew he was more observant than he led on to be, so you only let yourself look at his body when he is turned around. (“Leon, I’m in a sweatshirt, and you are half naked. Clearly one of us is wrong about the temperature here.” “Well, it’s not me.”)

Leon grew on you really fast. You knew you made a good choice in roommates after the first time Leon detected your bad mood and did whatever he could to make you happy. (“Gummy worms? Thanks, Leon. I’m surprised you didn’t eat these already.” “I was definitely going to. But you need them more than me.” He definitely snuck a few while you ate them.)

a/n: today is my birthday! take these little headcanons that I'm always thinking about while I finish the other fic and start some more :) does anyone else need a friends to lovers roommates au now... (cause i do) (thank you again for the support on my first fic. the pressure to please is high but i’m excited for my next fics!)

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy fanfiction #headcanons #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy x gn reader #leon kennedy headcanons #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4

[theastrical]

How do genshin men propose to you?

Genshin men and their ways of proposing to you.

kaeya, diluc, childe, zhongli x reader

Kaeya’s idea of the proposal

Kaeya didn’t think much when he thought of the idea of a proposal, he loved the idea and has prepared himself for the exact moment. Having the pride to be your boyfriend and soon to be (he hopes) fiancé makes him confident.

He proposed to you in the tavern; diluc’s tavern. He pretend to be drunk as hell, he even put some makeup over his face just incase you know what’s going on, yes, he likes to make it extra. At first, he would ask you if you can help him walk home, he would look lousy and exhausted, seemingly to buy your trust. Then he would pretend to drop unconscious, he also make sure the ring fall to the ground so when you’re distracted by the ring, he already prepared himself on his knees. Your ring is made by his own hands, he learned how to make it at one random day with crepus. The ring has a carve of your initial and his, the sapphire is carved into your favourite flower. And his? It’s basically carved into the leaves, the leaves that grow before the blooming flowers.

so when you turn yourself to his eyes…he take the ring to his fingers and kneels. ”you know, i would really love to wake up beside you every morning and have a ring on my finger that represent your existence within me, so [name], would you be my one and only?”

Diluc’s idea of the proposal

Diluc’s idea are fancy, something hard to remake by others. his money is basically unlimited, so he decided to rent a fine-dining restaurant without you knowing he has reserved the whole place for you. you told him that maybe luck was in your side, because the restaurant is all quiet, nobody is there, just you both; not having the hint that he does everything to this extent just to make you his.

It’s a classy ol’ fine dining that you expected, candles and fresh flowers everywhere, yet the menus are basically made for this event only, it’s arranged into a riddle and if it were to be cleared, the words will become a sentence of “would you be mine?”. The head chef made the food based on the themes of your every date with him and it made you teared up. Until the dessert, which is the end, the chef happened to make a chocolate that you can break with a small hammer. Then there’s the ring, the proposal ring that he has been preparing for you. When you found out, you immediately look at him, his other ring which completes yours already in his finger.

“for every seconds, hours, days or months, never have i regretted meeting you. Atlas, i would like for us to be one, so, would you be mine?”

Childe’s idea of the proposal

A week before the proposal, he cleared out his task, wanting to take a whole week off to arrange his proposal for you. it earned him quite the reward from the Tsaritsa, though his body barely function after the last task he’d done, at the end of the day, he’s admitted to the hospital, he resist it at first, but knowing that it’ll make you mad if he’s resisting, then he’ll stay.

Therefore, he thought about making his proposal in the hospital, he doesn’t want anyone to take you away from him after all. So he quietly asked one of his comrade to make one and only handmade ring that they could commission from the best iron maker in teyvat, the side gifts are more special, an eternal flower in a glass (referenced by beauty and the beast rose). He proposed to you by making a…dramatic play. When you visited him when he (presumably) sleeps, he would cough..you panicked of course, thinking that he might choke on pills and such, he closed his mouth, hiding the ring on his palm also acting as if it’s a rough cough, then when he open his palm and sits down, he gives out the look of the ring..that beautiful ring.

“i don’t wanna die alone, so…bare with me and marry me?”, he chuckles and kiss your cheeks before presenting you.

Zhongli’s idea of the proposal

He wanted to move on from his past, he wanted to finally say i love you; though he’s afraid, what if he repeats another mistake? Hence he doesn’t proposed officially, he tried to know you better, making sure that you live off the best life with him, he tried to reassure himself that even if you can be immortal just like him, at least he had made several chapters of your life meaningful.

At the first day, he takes you to a restaurant, telling you to order your favorite, and you shared with him. You told him what you like about it, what makes it special and the next day he recreated for you, inviting you to his house and serves it. You’re happy and that makes him..charmed. The other days, he observes your shopping pattern, you would buy discounted clothes and good deals for groceries, you would always say no to his request of being paid or having to be helped with the bags. Those are also what he observes. It seems that you need somebody that can help you with your burdens in life, cheering for your every moment, or appreciate your action. well it’s not like he doesn’t know you, you’ve been with him since 3 years ago and now you guys basically know each other head to toe, it’s just that..the longer it gets, the harder for you guys to appreciate the small things. Then, at the day of the proposal, he ordered your favorite food and take you out to a date, a humble date. He helped you with every single thing, he didn’t bother to answer your no(s) cause he knows you want to…at the end of the day, he tied your shoelaces and told you to wait for a moment since he also need to tie his..at that moment, he take off his ring from his pocket and present it to you.

“The time i spent while having you beside me was the slowest seconds i’ve ever had in my life, that in fact, make me want to cherish for whatever phase of life the world gave me..and in that phase, i would like to have you beside me. Forever. So would you mind, giving me the chance to court you?”

taglist: @dailypenpen , @daydreaming-paradies

#genshin impact fics #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #zhongli x reader #childe x reader #genshin fanfic #diluc fanfic #kaeya fanfic #childe fanfic #zhongli fanfic #kaeya alberich x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin fluff #diluc fluff #kaeya fluff #childe fluff #zhongli fluff

[minniiaa]

LawLu hc - Franky built Luffy captain's quarters that he only uses when Law stays over.

YES. Any in-universe OP fic of mine (and a lot of other fic writers) will most definitely have a captain's quarters that Luffy reserves just for his tired emo babygirl (Law).

Ever since they set sail on the Merry, Luffy has slept in the men's quarters. They didn't have a Captain's Quarters back then because there wasn't enough space but Luffy never cared because he hates sleeping alone.

When he was a kid, he always had Ace and Sabo to sleep with but after Ace left on his journey, Luffy had to sleep by himself and he hated how quiet and cold it was without them. Once he was finally able to travel with his crew, nothing made Luffy happier than being able to sleep with his friends again. Sometimes they even let him cuddle with them at night which is Luffy's favorite thing to do with the people he cares about. When Franky was building the Merry, he offered to build Luffy a captain's quarters but he denied saying that he'd rather sleep with his friends.

Then Law comes aboard after Punk Hazard and Luffy couldn't understand why he would never sleep in the men's quarters with him and instead chose to sleep on the deck in the cold. Law refuses to tell him and it drives Luffy crazy because he wants to cuddle with Law so bad. He tries to go on the deck and snuggle with Law but everytime he does, Law shambles him halfway across the ship with no explanation.

Their relationship progresses into something much different than what Luffy has with his crewmates and after much pestering, he finally gets Law to admit that the two-fold reason why he won't sleep with the rest of the men is that he often has nightmares from his dark past which embarrasses him and he also isn't part of their crew so sleeping with them would make it seem like he's accepting that he's no longer captain of his own ship and just one of their nakama like Luffy claims he us.

Luffy thinks this is ridiculous so he secretly has Franky build him that Captain's Quarters he offered before. Franky does, repurposing a random closet of junk into a small but perfect Captain's Quarters. On the night it's done, Luffy drags Law through the new door that suddenly appeared, shoving him on the bed, crawling in next to him, and wrapping his arms around him so tight that Law can't escape.

Law is not sure if he's most confused as to how this new bedroom just materialized seemingly out of thin air on the day they stopped at a supply island or why Strawhat is now alone in bed with him, nuzzling against his neck and holding him against his body. Luffy declares that it's the Captain's Quarters and he had Franky build it so they could have a room for just the two of them. That way Law doesn't have to worry about his nightmares or what anyone else thinks.

Law points out that it's still the Captain's Quarters and Luffy is the Captain and Luffy snaps back with "Well you're a Captain so that makes it your quarters too. It doesn't say which Captain it belongs to," and Law can't argue with that ridiculous but sound logic that only Luffy could come up with.

Law accepts his fate, relaxing in Luffy's arms, realizing that it's been so long since he was able to just curl up under the blankets with someone else. He feels all warm and fuzzy, not only because Luffy is like a space heater, but also because he realizes his alliance mate did all this just so he could have a space he feels comfortable at night. From that day on, he sleeps with Luffy in their room. It does mortify him when Strawhat tells other people that they sleep together every night but at that point, Luffy's already decided that they're dating and he knows there's nothing he can do.

After Law leaves the crew, the room remains and Luffy only uses it when Law comes to visit him, never allowing anyone else to sleep in 'Him and Torao's room'.

or

Luffy just wanted a room where he could fuck Law nasty so he has Franky build one and suddenly the Captain of the Thousand Sunny has his own personal sex dungeon for him and his boyfriend.

#LMAO the end i couldn't help myself #lawlu #lulaw #one piece lawlu #lawluffy #trafalgar law #monkey d luffy #one piece #law #luffy #lawlu headcanon #lawlu hc #asks #minni headcanons

[forgeofthenine]

Hello there :) I just want to say that I love all of your work so far, it’s absolutely amazing :) if it’s okay please could I request headcanons of the Bachelor’s having a crush on a shy and insecure non tiefling reader 💙💙

Thank you so much! ♥️♥️♥️ I'm sorry it took me a while to get to your headcanons, but I hope you enjoy them! I also just got a new phone, so any extra typos are bc this new keyboard is screwing me over lmao

The bachelors with a shy and insecure reader

Dammon

Easily one of the best love interests for someone that's shy or insecure

Dammon is great at slowly easing people out of their shell, he pushes without going to far

He has patience too, even if it takes months for you to have a full conversation with him

Really, the man just likes seeing you act all shy, the way you flush with embarrassment is endearing

And, while the fact you're a non tiefling gives him pause at first, it's not really an issue for him

If anything it just means you won't pick up on the way his tail wags-

Dammon is so sweet about your insecurities

Depending on what they are, he'll either help you reach your goals or assure you that your wonderful

Both even and possibly at the same time

He's so big on praise and there doesn't go a day where Dammon doesn't compliment you in some way

Everything Dammon says is so sweet and genuine too

Zevlor

This lovely paladin would suit someone shy and insecure

Zevlor himself is quiet and reserved, and has dealt with his own share of insecurities throughout his life

He can see it in the way you act, what's going through your head

There's no way you can hide things from him, after years of being a hellrider it makes you observant

The way Zevlors endlessly understanding is so sweet <3

If you need support or comfort in any way, he will always be there

Whether you need a hug or help fixing a problem

He never expects anything back, but seeing you open up to him is more than enough of a reward

You being a non tiefling doesn't bother Zevlor, I definitely think he's been with non tiefs before in the past

Like Dammon, he is also very patient

Despite his feelings, Zevlor will take your relationship at whatever speed you'd like

He's quite content being a close friend of yours and supporting you

Please just kiss Zevlor already, he'll die before making the first move

Rolan

Are you sure you want to try and date Rolan? 💀

We love him, but this man is a firecracker of a tiefling, he takes a while to adjust to

While he realises you're shy, it takes Cal and Lia pestering him before he stops his little angry outbursts

Instead he starts to become a lot more mindful about his voice, tone, and body language

This goes double when he realises his feelings for you

It's a noticeable change, particularly when you leave a room and the firecracker attitude is back

He's your hype squad too when you're feeling insecure

Rolan is both a proud man but he does worry about his abilities and how he stacks up

It's a perspective that helps him both understand your thoughts, and help you overcome negative thinking patterns

If he gets to spend time with his crush while he helps, then that's just a bonus

In the end, you and Rolan end up being like the 'they asked for no pickles' meme, if anyone knows what I'm talking about

It's honestly so cute seeing him pine over you while hyping you up in his own sassy way

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 dammon #bg3 dammon #dammon x reader #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #baldurs gate 3 rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan x reader #bri answers

[xdjville]

wayv and their own love languages

pairing: wayv x gn!reader

cw: mentions of sex in winwin's (only in words, no descriptions), yangyang (half)jokingly being a hater in xiaojun's, proof read but i'm tired

author's note: i had to physically stop myself from getting carried away with kun's so it wouldn't end up twice as long as the others man i love him

♡ kun

quality time

if it wasn't for kun being so busy, he would literally be glued to you at the hip. only with you around he's able to truly relax, you're like a power outlet that he can use to charge his battery. what you're doing doesn't really matter to him that much, he will enjoy anything as long as you're there, but the slow, quiet moments when you're both in your own worlds have to be the ones he cherishes the most. of course, he loves going out with you and having a blast too, but something about those occasions brings him a sense of domesticity and really lets him unwind. like when you're both in his studio - him at the desk, composing or working on lyrics, while you're on the couch in the back with your laptop, focused on your own tasks, the silence being broken only the few times that kun asks about your opinion on whatever he came up with, or when you stand up to get a drink and place a kiss on his cheek as you walk by. or it could be him cooking dinner for the two of you, showing off his skills as you sit on the counter, humming quietly to his playlist playing in the background. every now and then he'd turn around to give you a piece of the food he's making for a taste test, repaying each good idea of how to improve the dish with a kiss.

♡ ten

thinking about you

ten is pretty much thinking about you every second that he's awake (and sometimes in his dreams, too), he's never not thinking about you. he often gets reminded of you by random things, whether because he thinks there's a visual resemblance (he then usually sends you a photo and a "you lol"), because it's something you like, or because it's somehow connected to a shared memory of yours. he brings you up in conversations a lot too, to the point where some of his friends seem to know you quite well without having actually met you. when he's travelling, he always takes many photos to send you along with voice messages about how his day went, and buys souvenirs or little trinkets to gift you when he's back. on the rare occasion when he's grocery shopping on his own, he makes it his mission to find all of your favorite snacks, which more often than not gets him distracted from the list you had put together for him, so you end up with a bunch of candy and no dinner (which is exactly why him shopping alone is a rare occurance). he also really likes putting together playlists with songs that remind him of you, some of them he'll send and give you access to, but there's also a few he made private which he listens to on days when the longing feels worse that usual.

♡ winwin

"i love you"

to most, it might seem like not that big of a deal, but to winwin those three words hold more meaning than all other existing ones combined. a meaning that's so important and valuable, binding even, that he uses them carefully and scarcelly in order to not abuse them. for most of his life they were reserved only for the closest family members, then, although in a different sense, also for his fans. saying them romantically for the first time was a whole new sesantion to him, and to be honest it still feels a bit foreign and uncomfortable. not because he doesn't love you, that he sure does and he makes sure to show that in other ways, but actually saying it out loud just makes him feel so bare and out in the open. hence his "i love you"s are usually muttered into the crook of your neck when you're pressed together after making love, breathed against your lips when he breaks the kiss only for a second so you can't see his face gaining more color than it already had, or whispered into your ear as he gently strokes the back of your head, your tears soaking into his sweater.

♡ xiaojun

sharing

xiaojun doesn't really do this purposefully, as a way to show his affection, it's just that the concept of "mine" and "yours" genuinely doesn't exist in his mind when it comes to you. want a bite of his food? it's yours as much as it's his. out of moisturiser? you probably use the same brand anyways. really like that one hoodie of his? might as well have been yours in the first place. he never expect the same behavior in return, he's totally fine if you value your privacy and he makes sure that you understand each other's boundaries, but he never lets go of that "what's mine is yours" mindset either way. xiaojun really enjoys showing you off ("shoving your relationship into people's faces", as one german boy likes to call it), so you wearing his clothes or jewelry is his absolute favorite thing ever. he then stares at you with heart-shaped, sparkly eyes, a wide, lovesick grin on his face, and the tips of his ears burning red (to the german boy's disgust).

♡ hendery

being vulnerable with you

very few people get to see the other side of hendery than the cheerful, quirky self that he usually is. the side that's exhausted and afraid, that pains and ugly cries. a lot of doors have to opened to reach it, but he trusts you more than anything and anyone, ever. he doesn't think he could be any more real and unfiltered as he is with you, it's almost like it's more comfortable than when he's all alone. when you're there, he can just let everything go and express his feelings in a way that's most true to himself, without faking or conceiling anything. all those nights he spent crying because of his past, present, and future, because of his fears and scars and sorrows, you've been there for him. and although in the morning when you're tangled in your sheets with puffy faces and dry skin either of you knows better than to mention whatever was said that night, he's truly, deeply grateful, and each time he makes a promise to himself that one day he'll tell you that.

♡ yangyang

kissing

yangyang's nothing if not a kiss person. it's his favorite thing in the whole world, to be able to just connect your lips until he forgets his own name because yours is all he can think about. little pecks, french kisses, make out sessions, spiderman kisses - you name it, he loves all of them and they're all his favorites, as long as it's you who's on the other end. you often try to push him away because you just ate something with garlic, or because you have yet to brush your teeth in the morning, but none of that really matters to him. in fact, he cherishes every sensation that comes with it, be it a taste of what you ate, the feeling of your dry lips when you forget to put on chapstick, or a string of saliva that keeps you connected after you pull away - god, that one makes him go weak in the knees. he especially likes when you take the initiative, it makes him feel loved and all warm inside (he would never admit that though). and if you lead the kiss, maybe a bit riled up from something happening at work or because you've missed him? oh, he's a goner.

©xdjville

taglist ➼♡ @bambisnc

#nct imagines #nct reactions #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #wayv imagines #wayv reactions #kpop scenarios #wayv fic #wayv fanfic #wayv x reader #wayv scenarios #nct fic #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct fluff #wayv fluff

[lunargrapejuice]

the first time they make you cry

diluc ragnvindr + kaeya alberich x reader with no pronouns used warnings: hurt/comfort, crying, written mostly from the boys pov

diluc

the moment he sees tears rolling down your cheeks the blinding, burning, pit that was his anger quickly dissipates into nothing more than flickering embers, your tears the moisture that snuffs them out completely. his chest feels so tight, his heartbeat pounding in his ears accompanied by the sobs you try desperately to cover up, his hands with a subtle tremble as they hesitate to reach out to you. it only feels worse when you try to hide your sad expression. he hated to see you cry, there is little he wouldn’t do to rid you of the things that took away your smile but to be the one to bring you to tears. it makes his chest ache and his own eyes sting. 

he wills his unsteady feet to move closer to you, each step feeling more tense than the last as his anxieties grow. would the last thing you would want right now be his comfort? would he even be able to speak with the guilt and nerves wrapping tightly around his throat? would his touch only make you feel worse? does he even deserve to hold you? his worries and thoughts rattle in his head, on the verge of giving him whiplash. what’s going to happen after this.. what punishment is best fit for making the one person he wanted to protect shrink back and try to hide from him.. would you ask him to leave or leave yourself.. in the face of your crying visage it all feels like a mess inside his normally organized thoughts. the only thing he knows for certain is he wanted to stop your tears, more than anything else - please.. don’t cry anymore. 

gulping down the building unease that’s kept him quiet until now his dry lips part to speak but your small voice stops any words from leaving his throat. 

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, using the pads of your fingers to try to wipe the wetness from your cheeks but it’s fruitless to try. no matter how badly you didn’t want to, you couldn’t stop your eyes from weeping. you know he’s been so busy, his duties ever growing, the stress of the abyss’ threats weighing heavily on him but you hadn’t meant to upset him or to make his already bubbling frustrations worse. you hadn’t meant for your conversation to get to this point and you tried your hardest to keep the tears from spilling past your lashes, you wanted to be strong for him, but under the burning gaze that looked through you rather than at you and in the deep growling tone that normally was only reserved for annoying bar goers and enemies, you found yourself weak to the heart that beat uncomfortably in your chest.

he couldn’t have prepared himself for the way his heart felt as heavy as lead as it dropped to his stomach and his lungs contracted tightly with his quick inhale at your words. you shouldn’t be the one apologizing. w-why were you apologizing? he reaches out for you, to pull you against him, to wipe your tears but he can’t bring his hands to connect.

“y/n..”

suddenly your hands find the lapel of his jacket and your tears begin to collect on the dark fabric filled with his scent as you bury your face into his chest. he doesn’t understand why you want to touch him after he brought you to tears but after a moment of his arms hovering above your shaking figure, he wraps them around you with the intention to never let you go. one hand tangles in your hair and keeps your face against his chest, the other wrapped tightly around your middle, holding you against him as if there was any distance between your bodies the universe would take you from him. 

“i’m so sorry y/n.. please forgive me.. my love..” he continues to speak his apologies and comforts in hopes of calming your sobbing, his voice thick with his own overwhelming emotions. if it weren’t for how tightly he held you against him, and how it grew tighter with every word, you might have felt his hands still trembling but his fears no longer hold him back from ensuring he made this right and brought back your lovely smile. 

that night, once you’re both calmer and unable to separate from each other, he kisses your puffy eyes with the most tender of kisses, feeling his heart contract uncomfortably each time he remembers it was his fault in the first place. if you accept him, he'd ask to take a bath with you, washing your hair and body, giving you every ounce of his love and affection. he’d smile softly in hopes it would bring a smile to your own face and when it does, his chest would light up with warm, welcoming heat.

he makes a silent promise to himself as you lay in his arms that night that he’d do everything in his power to never make you cry again. he was meant to stop your tears, not to be the cause of them. he only wanted to protect you, all he wanted was a life where you could always be your beautiful, smiling, radiant self and he would do everything in his power to ensure you could continue to do just that.  

he finds it hard to sleep that night, preferring to run his calloused fingers through your hair, place loving kisses to your forehead and watch over you. eventually the calming rise and fall of your breath and in the way you clung to him just as he did you, he found his eyes heavy and his breath in tandem with your own, holding you impossibly close through the whole night, pouring him heart, his heat, into every inch of your body that touched his.

kaeya

his whole world around him stops when the first tear rolls down your cheek and suddenly the air feels so thick, hard to breathe but trying to swallow it down only made it worse. he can’t even recall what he was saying the moments leading up to this, the only thing echoing in his ears is your soft crying that you try so hard to hide from him and the voice in his head telling him this is his fault. 

“y-y/n,” he stutters. his uneasy voice so different from his normal suave tone. he’s panicking, his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest but his own condition is the last thing on his mind. no, please don’t cry.. fuck.. “i’m sorry.” he takes a step forward and reaches out for you with unsteady hands. he had to hold you, surely it would make this right, it could stop your tears. it had so many times before but those times he had never been the cause of your tears. “i’m so-”

his words are cut off when his hand is close enough he can feel your warmth, the pads of his fingers lightly brushing the softness of your shirt just to have it ripped away, leaving him in the cold when you pull away. you had never pulled away from him, never wanted to shy away from his touch unless he was teasing you too much. you always found comfort in him. if nothing else in the world, he was certain he was meant to hold you in his arms and protect you but how was that possible when he was the one to blame from this, when you wouldn’t accept him.

the pressure of his world crashing down on him nearly brings him to his knees. starry blue eyes widen and as if it was even possible, his heart tortures him further, contracting painfully as he tries to process and accept what just happened. were you slipping through his fingers just like everyone else he had loved? was he simply not meant to love and be loved.. he knew he didn’t deserve you, he had always known that he was not a man worthy of love, worthy of you but once you were in his life he could no longer live without you and those feelings only grew as your love flourished. his mind simply can’t stop running with the worst of his fears and reminders of how unworthy he was to hold someone as pure as you. it makes the scar over his covered eye itch and burn once more. how many times would he hurt the ones who loved him..

his feet scream at him to move, to run away or move closer to you or some mix of the two, he truly isn’t sure. which would protect either of you from him? he doesn’t know but the bile in his stomach only grows the longer he stands in front of your shaking form doing nothing. what could he do when he felt so helpless? he doesn’t know and the uncertainty sends his panic further but when he sees your eyes flash up at him, weeping and filled with some many emotions- sadness, fear, longing- he quickly abandons the idea of leaving.

“w-wait- please.. please don’t go k-kaeya..” you plead through your tears and take a step closer to him. something in his stance must have told you of his thoughts, or perhaps it was your uncanny ability to constantly see through the mirage he put up. it hurt to hear him speak to you like he had, you didn’t expect it to bring you to tears so easily and at first you weren’t sure you wanted his touch when you were feeling so overwhelmed but having him leave would be so much worse. you weren’t sure your heart could bear it. “don’t go!” you cry as you throw your arms around his middle in hopes to keep him here with you, your wet cheeks sticking to his exposed chest.

your touch melts the glacier of his uncertainties and worries and the only thing that remains is his determination to make you smile once more, to give you a loving kiss for every tear he was the cause of. he would do anything to make this right. his arms envelop you, holding you as close as he possibly can with his nose buried in your hair, his cool breath against your hair as he speaks. “i’m not going anywhere.” he sounds as steady as the ice he’d use till the end of his life to protect you. “i’m a fool y/n.. forgive me..” even if i don’t deserve it. “please.. forgive me”

kaeya has held you close countless times but never like this, never like you were only mere moments from falling through his fingers like sand, never with shaking hands and such raw emotion filled apologies spilling from his lips that normally only knew words covered in sugar. it brought him comfort feeling you return his intensity in kind. and for the rest of the night, he doesn’t let you go. strong arms carry you into the bedroom and lay you down in the sheets like you were the most fragile thing to be created before your whole world is covered in soft sapphire hair, the smell of wine and saffron, and warm kisses. every remaining tear you shed is captured by the hands that swear to protect you above all else, followed by a kiss from the lips you love and crave more than anything else in this world. 

his affections were always plentiful but for the remainder of the night, and many following days after, you would feel them tenfold. even when your puffy eyes closed and you were snuggled safely into his chest with your breath steady in your sleep he showered you with his love, his hands never being able to leave you, his eyes couldn’t be torn from your figure, his confessions of love only stopping when he found himself no longer able to fight off sleep. the fear he’d wake up and your make up would all be a dream kept him holding onto you tightly all night, your smallest movement tearing him from slumber just to pull you closer to him, as if there was any space between you to give from the last time he pressed you against him. 

he couldn’t let you go and he would do what he could to never bring saddened tears to your eyes again. there was nothing that he loved more than your smile and he alone would go against the world to protect it. 

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

#genshin impact #diluc ragnvindr #diluc ragnvindr x reader #kaeya alberich #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin impact angst #diluc x reader #diluc angst #kaeya #genshin impact x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr angst #kaeya angst

[multifandomgirl08]

Sugar Daddy!Daniel Ricciardo x Fem!Reader Part 2

The Arrangement Masterlist

Formula 1 Masterlist

He said that he would be flying to Italy for a few weeks and wanted to see you

You would have your own room in the Villa that he was staying in, and before you could even bring up paying for a plane ticket he said that he would e-mail all of the flight information to you

You agree to go and he’s quick to tell you that if you need anything you don’t have for the trip he’ll cover the costs

Over the course of the trip, you start to notice things

On your second day in Italy, Daniel takes you shopping at all of the big-name brands that you can't afford while paying for college

He buys you Chanel, and Dior, even insisting on going into Cartier and Van Cleef. He says, "We'll just be looking."

You spend a little too much time standing in front of the display with all of the paved Love bracelets and see a pair of butterfly earrings in Van Cleef

You and Daniel end up getting lunch at a little Café at the end of your day of shopping

He tells you that he made reservations at 8 pm at some restaurant and that he's already picked out something for you to wear

When you get back to the Villa, there is an Oscar De La Renta Box on the bed in your room

You're hesitant to open it, let alone put what's in the box on

In the end, you end up putting on the stunning red jeweled dress and you take the new Dior bag that Daniel bought you

When you walk out of your bedroom you see Daniel standing there in the foyer of the house in a suit

"Wow," He says, his eyes constantly looking at you. As if you're gliding on the marble floor. "You look... beautiful."

He's quick to try to meet your eyes before you notice that his eyes fall to your neck.

"I knew something was missing." He quickly mentions before walking over to the table that's by the front door. There’s a small white bag with green letters reading Van Cleef & Arpels.

Your eyes go a little wide when Daniel pulls out a green box and presents it to you.

He's quick to motion at you to open it. You pull the ribbon and open the box of the lid to reveal the butterfly necklace that you had been looking at earlier in the day.

Daniel takes it out of the box before clasping it around your neck

"Something to remember me by." He off-handedly says before offering you his arm.

While you're at dinner, you notice that Daniel is quiet and not as animated as usual

Something is going on. Maybe he's calling this off, but he doesn't seem like the type of person to fly you all the way to Italy just to end the arrangement that you have

Daniel had chosen a bottle of wine, and you both ordered dinner. He ordered you pasta, the most expensive option on the menu before fidgeting with the sleeves of his dress shirt

"So, I know that we've been doing this for a while... and I was wondering if you would be interested in taking it a little further?" He asked.

You weren't really sure what further meant for the two of you. You were basically at his beck and call, although he never forced you to do anything that you didn't want to

"What does that mean? Do you want to see me more?" You ask back.

"Yeah, or maybe I could start to give you an allowance every month and pay your rent or get you an apartment."

Your hand drops to your neck without thinking about it.

Was this why Daniel bought you the necklace? In case you said no to his offer?

You liked spending time with him when you could, it wasn't often but he wouldn't be driving in F1 next year so you hoped to see him more.

It would work well for you really. To take up his offer while you were in search of a job. He could cover your rent for however long you needed.

"Why don't we start small, like we have been." You offered, you never wanted Daniel to think that you were taking advantage of his generosity.

Both of you agreed.

A few weeks after you got home from your trip, there was a yellow package from Daniel.

In it, a red Cartier box, and a letter with the word Enchanté in cursive.

You opened the letter first, leaving the Cartier box too scared to see what was on the inside. You still wore the Van Cleef necklace that Daniel gifted you every day.

The letter read.

Hey babe,

figured it was time for a bit of an upgrade from what you're used to. I'm going home to Australia for the holidays and I know that we won't get to spend them together so I figured I'd get you all of your gifts early.

If you look through the rest of the envelope from this letter there is a card with your name on it (again), we talked about an allowance in Italy and I intend to keep my promise. It's already activated and everything. Don't worry about the limit on it.

But knowing you, you won't try to spend me out of house and home. Is it bad that I kind of want you too?

I meant to give you what was in that red box before we left Italy but there never seemed like a good time.

Talk soon

- Danny Ric

You end up opening the envelope the letter came in to see a thick metal-like card before pulling it out to see a metal American Express card. It had his name written on it.

As you look at it you're not sure if you even want to use it. But Daniel seems to trust you with the money that he gave you.

You end up putting the letter and the card to the side before reaching for the Cartier box. It's wrapped with a red ribbon. You delicately pull it off the box, and then pull the lid off the reveal the signature Cartier Love bracelet box.

You press the button on the box seeing a fully paved Love bracelet with its matching 14k gold screwdriver.

You leave it before reaching for your phone and take a picture of it to send to Daniel with the message, Thank you, I love it!💕

You only had to wait a little bit before Daniel messaged you back.

Anything for my girl, you read.

#story idea #daniel ricciardo imagine #new possible thing #work in progress #daniel ricciardo x reader #SD!Danny Ric Series