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tteokdoroki · 3 months

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THIRD TIME'S A CHARM - kento nanami.

✩ — about. “my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it." kento nanami never cared for workplace shenanigans. he never took his mind off of work. and he never thought he would develop feelings for his coworker, nor expect for them to feel the same way about him. what happens when he misses your three attempts to ask him out? perhaps reddit will know... ( 5.5K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, angst, happy ending - video banner ! AITA-verse!au, office romance!au, mutual pinining, cluelessness, misunderstandings, christmas time, mentions of alcohol, office worker!nanami, afab!reader.

✩ — things to note. happy monday everyone, i have for you yet another fic to go with my gojo one! this story was written as a gift for @antizenin bc i love her so bad !! can be read as a stand-alone but does make refrences to my AITA gojo fic !! thank you to @todorosie for beta reading! hope you enjoy beloveds <3 - series m.list ⋆ m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it. my chest feels tight when they’re away and whenever they’re nearby my heart beats so fast i feel like i might pass. it would be a pleasure to date them or to just stand by them… there’s only one problem. i’m not usually the type of guy who engages in workplace shenanigans, i hardly know how to interact with people outside of the confines of my work. my coworker has made a few advances, at least i think they have. i don’t know how to respond or whether or not i’m over-thinking this. do they even like me? is it all in my head? i could really do with some advice… how should i go about this and telling them how i feel? TLDR: i have a crush on my coworker but i can’t, for the life of me, tell if they like me back.

you’ve always liked your co-worker, kento nanami.

to those who don’t know him, he appears quite stoic and blunt, cold even. like the crisp weather at the start of winter, air that’s sharp and bites unpleasantly at your nose. nanami tends to act the same towards those he holds no affections for, blocking them out as if he were a fortress made of stone.

one may even paint a picture of kento nanami as a lone wolf — callous and uninterested in the buzz of the office. he stays late, works long hours, never engages with the gossip on your floor after work.

that’s only the beginning of how the world sees your blonde co-worker.

but you have come to know nanami, in your short time working for Gojo Corporations. you’ve not been there very long, still adapting to the office culture and your brand new line of work, but in the few months that you have been finding your equilibrium in the office — you’ve gotten used to nanami’s demeanour, his ethic, his lifestyle. you’ve come to appreciate it, and him.

the man works hard, with a quiet confidence about him that puts your mind at ease — a quality you only wished that you had. it makes you curious, how little he seems to care about what it is Gojo Corp actually does but how much of his time he puts into it and how much he cares for the people around him too. you’ve learned, by taking the desk to nanami’s left, that he’d risen pretty quickly in the company, he begrudgingly seems to be gojo’s (your boss’) favourite employee and that he’s surprisingly good at what he does for someone who hates it so much.

he presents at meetings and debfriefs calmly, always gets through his tasks with an air of rationale and when you’d first started…nanami was kind, gently leading you through your own work as if he’d taken your hand in his and was guiding you to some place warmer — away from the chill of your nerves and self-doubt. in his own way, he cared. nanami was not as cold as one might think.

there’s so much more to him than what meets the average human eye. ever since joining the company — you found yourself curious, wanting to know everything about him. what drives him, what pisses him off, where he wants to go and who he wants to be. beneath his calm, collected and commanding aura there is a man whose heart holds many secrets. a man you want to know… and might even want to be with.

the very thought of being with nanami makes you shy where you wish that you weren’t. maybe then, you could tell the blonde office man how handsome you thought he looked while concentrating on filing reports and paperwork. perhaps you could then steel your nerves and stop the shake in your voice while telling him how much you like the low dip in his own when he explains KPIs and stock markets to you. not to mention how hard he works on keeping his patience with not just you… but the interns megumi, nobara and yuuji as well (yuuji was the brother of someone your boss new very well back in college, apparently). the ways in which he’s taken the young trio under your wing, it’s a wonder you haven’t had baby fever yet.

nanami even extends the same grace to your man-child of a boss, he wouldn’t have stayed working for Gojo Corp and for satoru gojo if he didn’t. in some ways, they were like a little family at the company, and nanami was the responsible one always picking up gojo’s messes and holding the others together.

especially on days when gojo came into work emotional over developments in his ex’s new life.

still, nanami stayed.

and your crush on him bloomed like a light frost spreading across the double-glazed glass of a window.

you felt your heartbeat speed up whenever nanami was close by and you could smell the ginger and cinnamon on him, not to mention, the hairs on the back of your neck would stand whenever your hands brushed over one another’s. nanami was warm on the inside, you knew that — he liked his interns, he cared for gojo especially when the days were tough (like when he holed himself up in his office after finding out his ex was getting engaged). he even brought lunch for the office floor. mostly soup for haibara whenever he got sick.

you knew deep down that nanami was soft and loving — you felt that he needed love too. you wanted to be the one to give it to him, even if it was the last thing you did.

ATTEMPT #ONE - THE CHRISTMAS PARTY.

satoru gojo’s office holiday parties were far from what was considered appropriate for the workplace.

with thousand dollar bottles of booze and jars of caviar dotted about the main conference room — it was hard for anyone not to be in high spirits. the notes of cheery christmas carols drift through your ears and the tinsel that your boss had thrown over your shoulders scratches at your neck uncomfortably. you’re not one for buzzing celebrations like this, they’re too noisy and loud, but gojo has made you promise to attend this year's party… and he was oddly convincing for a manager this unserious.

ultimately, you were glad that you’d decided to come because while being spoiled by your boss was all good and fun — it provided you with the perfect social setting and opportunity to speak to your longtime crush, nanami.

like you, he wasn’t a fan of forced mingling in the office, and had no interest in consoling his tipsy manager who was currently crying up a storm into one of his poor intern’s shoulders. the blonde office man kept to himself, tucked away by the bright lights of the christmas tree as he nursed a piping hot coffee — he wouldn’t be getting drunk on company time.

you manage to break away from conversing with shoko and make your way over to the latter co-worker, swallowing down your nerves with a swig of the moscato satoru had so generously picked out for you — knowing that you liked the sweeter stuff and that it would probably loosen your lips enough for you to get this over with (he and those interns were fully aware of how much you admired kento nanami). sliding up beside the man, your long, embroided skirts swish against his ankles — only serving to pull his attention away from his work phone and onto you.

taking a sip of your drink to warm yourself up with liquid courage and break the ice — you hum, quietly. “any plans for the holidays, kento?” you ask him simply, and though your deep and gorgeous brown eyes stay trained on the bubbles in your glass — you can feel kento’s own chocolatey pair land on the side of your face. whether they’re scrutinising you or admiring you, you can’t actually tell.

if you were looking, you’d be able to see the way that the sharp edges of kento’s usual expression soften across his face — the straight line of his lips are parted, his furrowed brows becomes relax and his posture no longer ridged, but instead, at ease. if you were looking you’d know that out of all of his co-workers (aside from the interns), kento is most comfortable around you. he find your meek and cautious demeanour adorable and the way that you sometimes awkwardly flutter around him in conversations is cute.

“not much, just working.” he responds quickly and shortly. to anyone else, they would have taken nanami’s reply as cold and callous, but you? you smile softly, glad that he’s even taking part in your small talk.

you’ve always been a little quieter than most colleagues at Gojo Corp, but you’ve always tried your hardest to make connections and bring the group together. you care for the interns so deeply, helping them to learn from your initial mistakes at the organisation and to do better. he likes that you’re good company, knowing just the right things to ask and when, allowing for comfortable silences when no one in the team feels like talking.

nanami likes you.

and perhaps that’s what makes him awkward around you as well, the very fact that he can’t find fault in you — that you’re too sweet and kind and gentle to complain about like he would with nagging gojo. what does he say to someone as wonderful as you?

he doesn’t want the moment to end, however. “how about you?”

the blonde says your name softly, as though he’s testing it out on his tongue — and you can’t help the warmth that blooms like a spring rose in your chest at the honeysuckle sound. you’re hot all over and you’re sure it’s not the alcohol.

“f-family!” you squeak shyly, voice high pitched as you fend off excitement — having nanami elaborate on your conversations isn’t a usual occurrence. coughing, you take a sip of your drink and knock it down a notch. not that kento would want you to, since he finds your enthusiasm to chat with him so endearing. “i have family…coming. o-over the break! flying in from abroad, so it’s going to be special.” the blonde’s brow raises with interest, and you latch onto the opportunity to speak with him further, basking in your quiet moment together. “i’m not usually one to cook, but my mother and i will be handling dinner together! so it’ll be a mix of all sorts of foods. traditional and from our home country too.”

nanami slips his work phone away in order to give you his full attention. “that sounds…wonderful,” he settles on saying. he wonders what your family is like, if they’re as shy and endearing as you or louder like that of the dynamics at the office. he imagines you surrounded by love, by laughter and warmth… and can’t help but yearn for the same. “i do miss home cooking, christmas in new york isn’t quite the same as japan.”

“t-then you’re welcome to spend christmas with us!” you blurt before your mind can even process what you’ve said. now you really must be drunk, or tipsy at the very least. who just invites their coworkers over to their house without getting to know them first. “we’ll have more than enough to fix you a plate…if you’d like,” despite your overexcited blunder, you remain hopeful that nanami will accept your invitation or at least get the hint. that you want to know him better and spend more time with him.

but nanami doesn’t take the hint, he can’t seem to figure out why you’d want to spend time with him outside of work, and so, puts up a respectful boundary. nanami smiles and puts down the coffee he’d been drinking. “i wouldn’t want to impose on your time with family.”

you frown, the stacked bricks of your excitement coming tumbling down. “kento that’s not what i meant—“

“look!” gojo cuts in, slurring from across the room as he points a shaky finger at the two of you by the tree. “they’re standin’ un’da the mistletoe!”

both yourself and nanami look up in disbelief to find yourselves standing under calculatedly placed mistletoe — no doubt due to the meddling of your boss. though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to kiss nanami, it was more of question as to whether or not he wanted to kiss you.

“gojo, you’re drunk. and i really should be getting back to work.” kento insists, clearing his throat and immediately looking away from you with a bashful blush. you’re perfect, and darling, and to kiss you really would make kento’s day…but he’d never want to make you uncomfortable or put you on the spot like this. “i have budget reports for your meeting in a few hours.”

“fuck the reports, don’t you wanna kiss the pretty lady?” nanami looks to you, shying away from the conversation and squirming under the sudden attention of the office party-goers. “i wouldn’t want to make her uncomfortable.”

“i-i wouldn’t be.” comes your hushed whisper.

nanami coughs to clear his throat, flustered by you. “are you sure?”

having had enough of your back and forth, dancing around one another like two teenagers confessing to each other on white day — gojo steps in, forcing his drunk yet authoritarian hand. “come on nanamin,” the white haired man drawls impatiently. “if you don’t kiss her! i will!”

“no!” you and nanami bark adamantly in unison — causing gojo to smirk and stagger happily while megumi and yuuji hold him up.

“then go ahead and kiss. or i’ll have to fire you.”

the idea of losing your job over a trivial christmas tradition is enough to spook you into agreeing. that and you couldn’t imagine kissing satoru gojo… the thought makes you gag to yourself. “fine,” nanami grunts before looking to and addressing you next, “do you mind?”

you nod once, breath shaky. “it’s okay.”

“where are you most comfortable being kissed?”

“um, i haven’t… i’ve not had my first yet so…”

“ah, i see. i won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable then.” hearing the news makes something weird… stir within the blonde’s firm chest. being your first kiss, his co-worker’s first kiss is an appealing thought — almost a little twisted and selfish for him. to have that honour, to be the one you would give it to, makes his head spin.

gojo cute through his train of thought, however. “god, would you too hurry it up!”

nanami rolls his eyes at his boss (which would have gotten anyone else fired.) but let’s the corners of his pink lips quirk up into a subtle smile directed at you, and only you. cautiously, he leans down as though not to spook you like a deer in the woods, and takes your hand in his larger and more calloused one. “sorry about this.” he hums quietly, the rough pad of his thumbs traversing through the ridges of your knuckles.

“i-it’s fine.” you repeat your earlier sentiment, holding your burning breath as kento drags the back of your hand up to his lips. dark brown eyes meet even darker ones — your gentle gazes meeting in the middle as the tensions rise within the conference room. your entire body melts like butter in a pan and your heart bursts out your chest with the crescendo of the christmas music in the background when kento nanami presses a soft chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

your kiss under the mistletoe.

once he breaks eye contact and snaps out of it — nanami is quick to announce is departure, covering up his flustered expression. “now, i really must be getting back to work. thank you for the party gojo, kids,” he nods at you softly with an utterance of your name and leaves not long after, leaving you with a flurry of butterflies in your tummy.

leaving you a sheepish, warm mess because while you had intended to ask nanami out and failed, you still managed to get somewhat of a kiss.

you press your hand to your lips, feeling the warmth of kento’s lips embedded into the skin there. somehow, you find it within yourself to ignore gojo's whine for a proper mistletoe liplock in the background — choosing to focus on the lingering touch left by your crush.

“how about the receptionist, she’s into you!” you hear yuuji suggest, earning a cheer from your stupid silver haired boss.

the three interns plus gojo disappear from the party after that, while you remain stuck in place like a statue made of stones— repeating the kiss in your head over and over again, in your thoughts drowning in images of kento nanami.

ATTEMPT #TWO - THE SECRET SANTA.

“good morning, kento!”

“good morning to you too,”

bristling from nanami’s warm greeting (as well as him calling you by your first name), you shuffle into the seat beside him with cold cheeks and bright eyes — doing your best to quietly shift out of your winter attire to make sure you don’t disturb the rest of the conference room. you’ve just snuck into the team meeting for Gojo Corp’s annual secret santa. this year would be your first time taking part and it took a hell of a lot of bribing (not really, just some locally made daifuku and the number of the receptionist gojo might be crushing on) to convince your boss to give you nanami for the special festive event.

picking out a gift for your blonde haired and stoic presenting crush proved difficult at first. you already knew that kento spent a lot of time at the office, working hard and dedicating himself to hours of paperwork — but that wasn’t exactly useful to know when it came to gift giving. however, after weeks of gathering intel by tapping into whatever office buzz nanami was involved in and sharing short exchanges with him by the coffee cart outside of Gojo Corp, you’ve managed to learn two things about kento nanami.

one, his appreciation for something homemade or cooked — like the quaint family owned bakery not too far from the office.

and two, his dream destination. the one place that he’s always wanted to vacation to — Kuantan, Malaysia.

now you couldn’t exactly afford to just splurge and buy him a ticket over there, not to mention there was a considerate budget placed on gifts…but what you could do is bring nanami’s favourite things to the office. while gojo sets out the rules for staff, you gently place your carefully wrapped presents on the table before you, again, trying to avoid making a ruckus with the crinkling wrapping paper.

“you’re a little later than usual.” nanami comments to you in a low tone, having been watching you this entire time.

he would feel weird saying it out loud, but he notices that you’re always early into the office — clicking in around twenty minutes to nine every day and that you take your time in setting up your desk for the day. as though you have a routine to calm your anxieties.

“i had to stop by somewhere for a last minute gift.” you grin after a hushed quip. and nanami can’t help but find it contagious. you’re a warm ray of sunshine to him — one that he can’t help but want to bask under and be near, especially during this winter cold. you make kento feel at peace with your calm aura. the way you speak so tenderly and kindly. as he turns his attention back to a blabbering gojo, he finds himself growing jealous of whoever received your gift. whoever it is, he hopes that they appreciate your thoughtfulness.

after the rules are done, everything is exchanged between assigned pairs as gojo calls up who was responsible form who.

elation courses through nanami’s veins once he learns that his secret santa was you — happy to know that he is about to be on the receiving end of your perfectly wrapped presents.

“i hope you like them,” you bleat shyly, passing him the leopard print-covered gifts. the very sight makes him grin, since the paper matches his usual work tie.

the blonde takes his time unwrapping each layer of paper — as if he doesn’t want to ruin all the hard work you put into presenting this perfectly for him. a strong wave of fondness crashes over your co-worker once the first present is revealed. nanami’s favourite, freshly baked sandwich from the japanese bakery downtown. the one he visits every day, and the same sandwich he orders every time. the one that fills him with nostalgia and reminds him of home.

the next gift is even more thoughtful, and he fights off the urge to clutch his chest — as if cupid has shot an arrow right through his heart and made it yearn for you and your kindness. it’s a crocheted water lily, like those found in the Taman Gelora park in Malaysia. the same park that nanami has always wanted to go to.

there’s a little postcard of the location too — with a note scribbled in your precise handwriting, wishing nanami a happy christmas. he tries not to dwell on the heart signed next to your name.

your saccharine voice slices through kento’s wild and appreciative thoughts delicately and he spares you a glance, watching your features as they illuminate with happiness from his reaction. you can tell that he likes your gift, and that fills you both with joy. “i heard from a little bird that you’ve always wanted to take a trip to Kuantan. and while i couldn’t get you a ticket myself, i figured these would be the next best thing. plus some food for your flight.” you joke while nanami thumbs the ridges of the yarn making up his water lily gift.

he laughs then, remembering how yuuji had grilled him about his dream vacation weeks back. it must have been for you.

you’re so selfless and thoughtful, it still blows the blonde office man’s mind that you would have gone through the trouble of getting him such a gift. most times, colleagues at Gojo Corp settle for fancy chocolates or snooty vouchers for department stores… but you used so much of your own time and effort to create something that kento nanami would truly appreciate. it drives him mad that he can’t seem to figure out why. why would you do something so nice for him?

“i wish i could have gotten you something in return.” he mumbles fondly.

“i don’t need anything from you kento,” you say sweetly, making his heart race as you put your hand over his. “i appreciate you and you’re my friend. i don’t need anything more.” you figure now is a bad time to confess to him, in front of everyone. though you might have chosen the wrong words — because while you do want more from nanami, he now thinks that you don’t, pulling away from you slightly. “i… i appreciate everything you do for the company. a-and i like spending time with you. being your friend.”

you facepalm internally, knowing you could have worded yourself better — but the realisation comes a little too late, for nanami is already pulling away from you, his once soft smile falling into place with the harsh lines of a frown. “thank you for the gifts,” he says, a little colder. now that he’s figured out why you truly made him those gifts. you see nanami as a friend, a good one. nothing more, like he had secretly hoped. “i must be getting back to work.”

“o-oh but kento—“ he looks down at you icily, you have no idea why he’s being so cold. he hasn’t a clue either, it’s not like you know of his affections or fondness towards you. you thought that calling yourselves friends would be just fine… at least until you found the confidence to confess properly. “nanami…did i offend you? i didn’t mean to pry with your gifts! i just wanted them to be perfect—“

“—you’re fine. just… duty calls. paperwork.”

“oh, right.” you reply, weak and defeated, thinking that he’s mad at you. rejecting you again. “good luck nanami…”

“thanks,” he mumbles. “for this, and the gift.”

“you’re welcome,” you say, mostly to yourself but before you can say more he’s disappeared from the conference room and gone back to his cubicle.

ATTEMPT #THREE - THE EVE OF CHRISTMAS.

as mentioned before, your boss isn’t exactly the serious type.

satoru gojo is silly and often irresponsible in regards to work. he’s had a lot to deal with and a lot to learn, he covers his mistakes with charms and smiles, but he’s learning. and when it comes down to it, satoru cares for the company, the office and most importantly — his staff.

which is why he makes it a rule that no one in his main team should work over the christmas period — with no exceptions.

of course, the ever-dedicated kento nanami has always found a loop-hole in avoiding the festive rule and his manager’s simple christmas wish. which is why, much to your chargin, satoru has meddled a little bit and sent you into the office to send nanami home. usually you wouldn’t mind the opportunity to speak with your crush, but after your second rejection from him in such a short space of time, you’re not so sure your little heart can take seeing the man before the holidays.

you’d agreed to satoru’s request nonetheless, your family didn't arrive until tomorrow and you couldn’t live with yourself if you let kento work through the night. you still had feelings for him after all.

when you arrive at your office, it’s dark and dim — matching the evening and it’s weather outside. you assume that any cleaning staff have already gone home, instructed by nanami who would also hate to keep people behind on Christmas Eve. it seems like him to offer to clean up after himself.

rounding the corner, you spot him in the conference room, tucked away by the tree from your christmas party as he taps away at his work laptop — no doubt finishing the Q3 report. you push past the glass door and make your way inside, tugging your scarf, hat and coat off while you watch nanami work. you hang them all up on a nearby coat rack.

“i know you’re there,” he speaks into the dark silence. “is that you, satoru? i’m not going home.”

“actually, satoru sent me in here to make sure you weren’t working on Christmas Eve.” you respond in an even tone, ignoring the slash of hurt over your heart when nanami fails to even spare you so much as a glance upon hearing your dulcet voice.

he instead scoffs, returning to his work. “tell him that i’m fine. i don’t need to be babysat. i know when to take a break.” kento doesn’t why he’s being so harsh with you, it’s not like you knew of his feelings. calling him your friend had been a token of kindness, but he let his rationality slip away and acted out because… what? he was afraid of your rejection?

despite his mean words, you stand your ground and refuse to leave kento alone. “i figured you might say that, so i bought you some food. these are cookies from the bakery that you like and they should keep you going,” you rummage in your tote for a small of cookies — pushing them across the large conference table for your stubborn blond co-worker. “the girl that works there is sweet. maybe we should go sometime, we can take a break from your work and have some cold turkey sandwiches ahead of Christmas Day—“

“if i wanted sweets i would have called up that meddling boss of ours, satoru,” nanami seethes, losing his patience. the more he looks at you, those big brown eyes and your soft, beautiful face, the more hurt he feels, the more nauseated he feels knowing that you might not like him the way he likes you. as just friends, instead of something more. “why are you here?”

you blink back your suprise. “w-what?”

“don’t you have family to be spending the night with?”

“i do it’s just… i worry about you, nanami. you work too hard, it’s christmas.”

“i really, really would like to finish the report so i can go home.”

your face scrunches up with rage and using that same fury, you march over the blonde man in three short strides — grabbing his chair and whirling him around to face you. you slam his laptop closed with enough power to shatter the damn thing, fixing nanami to look at you. ”what is wrong with you?”

“pardon?”

“i’ve… i’ve been trying all month to show you how much..how much i care about you and how much i like you. but it’s like you don’t even see me.” your voice warbles despite how angry you are, tears threatening to spill over the edge of your lashes. everything hurts, you don’t know what you’ve done to make nanami resent you in the way that he does now. perhaps if you were different, more confident and self assured maybe he would notice your gestures and implications. maybe he would like you back.

you wish for the darkness of the office to swallow you whole and make you disappear as you and nanami do nothing but stare blankly at each other. however, the lights on the obnoxious christmas tree continue to flash in the corner — illuminating the crystal tears clumped in your lashes and the slope of your features with a perfect golden glow. nanami sees you, he always has…but what good would a man like him be to a girl like you? sure, he wants to settle down, wants christmas with someone he loves, somewhere comfortable where he doesn’t have to worry about a thing — let alone money.

…but nanami is a tough nut to crack, he keeps to himself so much that even now you’re struggling hard to get him to speak his truth, and his feelings. he wouldn’t want you to give up trying even while he struggles to open up.

“i see you.” finally, kento finds his confidence and admits his truth to you. “i always have.”

he stands from his seat, towering over you and you stumble back. “do you? i’ve tried so hard… to tell you…”

the blonde leans down to your height and your words trail off, overwhelmed by him. “to tell me what?”

he prays that you can’t hear the pound of his heart against his ribcage or the blood rushing through his ears… but nanami has never stepped out of line or taken a risk and if he doesn’t, break the rules, he could risk losing the one good thing at this god forsaken place. “that i… that i like you. kento. i-i’m fond of you.” you exhale through your words, succumbing to everything that makes up kento nanami. his scent, gingerbread and fresh mint, makes you dizzy, his proximity makes your world tilt on its axis and you’re so nervous that you latch onto the collar of his dark blue dress shirt to keep yourself steady.

nanami seizes the opportunity to pour into you every emotion that he can’t bring himself to say. his large hands settle gingerly on the small of your back and his warm breath coasts over your fleshly lower lip, as if to ask for permission to kiss you properly. “may i?” comes his timbre voice, equality as shaky as yours had been earlier. you shake your head ‘yes’, giving nanami your consent to press his lips against your own in a life changing kiss. the action is tender, guiding you in all of the right places where you lack experience. the fists you'd formed in the collar of his shirt loosen the more that nanami works your lips in his gentle kiss — warming the frost over your little heart.

“i’m quite fond of you too,” he says your name after finally giving you the room that you need to breathe and kento brushes a thumb over your the swell bottom lip before he kisses you gently again. “i’m sorry i didn’t say so earlier.”

still holding onto him, a breathy chuckle escapes you as if you’re in shock. “w-what…what changed your mind? i thought you didn’t like me like that…”

“it wasn’t my mind that needed changing. it was the way i saw how you felt about me… i should have asked instead of assuming you only saw me as a friend. that was my mistake,” nanami explains carefully, choosing his words wisely. “you’ve been fair and kind to me, and i failed to give you the same grace due to my own doubts. i admire you, and should have confessed to you sooner but i—“

“but you wanted to finish working first, i get it.” you giggle and lean up to peck kento on the lips, stealing the words right out of his mouth. “just… please talk to me next time. i thought you were mad at me.”

your blonde co-worker, crush and now.. partner? (that was to be decided) gives your waist an apologetic squeeze — acknowledging his mistakes. “i owe you that much,” he replies warmly, “now how about those turkey sandwiches you were talking about?” nanami questions you awkwardly, in his own charming way of asking you out for a date on christmas eve.

after packing up and like a gentleman, he retrieves your scarf, hat and coat from the nearby coat rack by the door and gently pulls them over you one by one. like he cares, like he might even love you. he even zips you up to protect your cheeks from the bitter cold. nanami folds his own coat over the bend of his and grasps your hand firmly in his — keeping you close as you walk out of the office, a newly formed christmas couple.

somewhere off in the distance, the boss of the Gojo Corp office watches with a sly grin. while satoru might not have gotten his holiday romance, he’s glad his little plan was enough to get yourself and nanami together.

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roosterforme · 16 days

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The collection of letters that Bradley received from the fourth grade class provides him with entertainment while deployed. He takes the time to answer their questions and send a package back to the United States via air mail. But he has your email address. He also has a bit of a crush and some questions himself.

Warnings: Fluff, language

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

A few days later, when Bradley was done with his training protocols for the day, he returned to his bunk with a different mission in mind. While he unzipped his flight suit, he eyed the box which was taking up most of his nightstand, and a smile found its way to his lips. He managed to find a notebook that nobody wanted along with a thick, padded envelope, and he was going to take the time to respond to the fourth graders who wrote to him.

He'd spent hours poring over the letters, laughing at some of the questions from the kids and frequently picking up that one photo. He couldn't stop going back for more. For another look at you. Just one more look. Okay, this really was the last one. He had to toss it across the small room toward his duffel so he could focus on something other than your smile and the fact that he might have a tiny crush on a fourth grade teacher who knew absolutely nothing about him. Yet.

The note from Jayden was on the top, and Bradley opened it up and started to jot down a response.

Jayden,

It was so nice to hear from you and the rest of your class. To answer your pertinent questions, I am currently stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The most disgusting food in the mess hall is easily the cabbage rolls (which taste nothing like cabbage... or rolls). The best food in the mess hall is surprisingly the meatloaf. And yes, I would love to see a photo of your Cocker Spaniel. Please send one next time. I hope you're studying and doing your best in school.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The next note he decided to tackle was the one from Violet who had the tiniest handwriting he'd ever seen. The page had at least fifteen questions written out, but he decided to answer just a few for her. He had to squint as he skimmed through them again.

Violet,

You seem very inquisitive. That's a great quality to have, especially if you want to be a pilot someday. No, I did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Yes, the Navy is way better than the Air Force. Yes, I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. Yes, they actually made me do it. No, I don't think I could make it as a Navy SEAL. Yes, I have been staying hydrated and getting enough sun, thanks so much for asking. Keep studying hard, because you have a lot of school ahead of you before officer training.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

Okay, so this was actually a lot of fun. Up next was a response to the note from Oliver, which made Bradley laugh every time he looked at it.

Oliver,

Thank you so much for drawing the different Naval aircrafts for me. I hate to break it to you, but I actually do not fly the F-35 Lightning II. Yes, I know they look 'sickeningly cool'. Yes, I know it would be like 'slam dunking off the back of a dragon'. I guess I never knew I was jealous of those pilots until right now.... But I fly the equally cool if not quite as sickening looking F/A-18 Super Hornet. And yes, I would be more than happy to draw my own version of one for you. See below.

Lt. Bradley Bradshaw

The ten minutes he spent replicating his own aircraft to the best of his ability for Oliver churned out a pretty damn good result. He fished his phone out of the nightstand and took a picture to email to Nat when he had time, because she would find this whole thing amusing. Then he reached for the letters from Harrison, Nia and Jackie. He wrote his responses, and after a bit, he had a decent sized stack of letters all ready to go back to the fourth graders.

After a few more days, he worked his way through the entire class, and each kid would soon have a handwritten response on the way. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to say to you. The pretty teacher from the class photo that he now kept tucked in with his personal items. He worked on that one last, writing your full name at the top of the page and wishing you didn't go by the very non-specific Ms. which gave him zero clue as to whether or not you were married.

The package you sent was the nicest piece of deployment mail I have ever received. Thank you. I'm lucky it ended up in my hands. I'm impressed by how much all of your students have learned about aviation this year. I just hope I did them justice in regards to the questions they had for me.

I also hope you don't mind that I replied to each kid individually. They had some very amusing stories and questions, and I wanted to acknowledge all of them. But there was one question in particular that I was asked so many times, I thought I'd answer it here instead. My call sign is kind of a silly one, so it's okay if you all laugh. I go by Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and my helmet is mostly red, yellow and black.

Your kids seem like a fun bunch, but I bet they keep you on your toes. Feel free to let them know they can write back to me again, but please include my name on the package this time. I don't know that I'd be lucky enough to have it fall into my hands again by chance. I'll just be here somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for a few more months, ready to answer any questions you throw at me. Hope to hear back from you soon.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The following day, he packed everything up and dropped it off with the rest of the ship's outgoing mail. There was a rumor that a helicopter would be coming to pick it up in the next day or two, and he wanted to make sure it got back to California and those fourth graders as soon as possible. On his way back to his bunk, Bradley stopped by the lounge to see if there was an iPad free, hoping to send a quick email or two. He was in luck. He also happened to have your email address memorized.

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

You yawned at your desk and checked the time on your computer. Within the next ten minutes, your classroom would go from silent solitude to mass chaos, so you took a minute to clear out your email inbox. You had a few messages from some parents and a reminder about Spirit Week from the superintendent. And a random piece of junk mail that must have slipped through the spam filters. You didn't know anyone with a US Navy email address, and you didn't know anyone named Bradley Bradshaw.

As you closed your laptop, you gasped and tried to pry it back open again as quickly as you could. The Navy! The package you sent a few weeks ago! Maybe it was someone writing back to your class! Of course it could just be someone saying they were sorry that they didn't have time to engage with your students, but you figured even that was better than nothing.

"Come on," you whispered, entering your credentials again before your inbox reappeared on your screen. The email was just a few lines long, but it was addressed to you by name. You were smiling immediately as you read it.

I just wanted to let you know that I got the mail you sent to a deployed Naval Aviator. There's a package on its way to your school for your class. It should arrive in about a week or two. Your fourth graders provided me with several hours of entertainment, and I hope they find my answers to their many (and amusing) questions useful. Thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the photos, too. Can't tell you how much I've been enjoying them. Hope to hear from all of you again.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

You squealed and pumped your fists in the air. Someone actually got the box! And he actually responded! The other, older teachers thought you were just wasting your time when you deviated from the lesson plans a bit. Literally all of them said there was no way anyone would write back, even though you took the time to go through the proper channels at Top Gun on North Island. But now you could rub it in their faces, all thanks to Bradley Bradshaw who sounded like he'd had as much fun with this whole thing as your class had.

Then your day really started as Violet and Oliver burst into your classroom, calling out your name with excitement in their voices. The rest of your kids followed behind them, already asking about the plans for the day and what kind of adventure you'd be taking them on in each subject.

When you clapped your hands twice and said, "Good morning," they all clapped and replied with their own greeting, and then they sat quietly with their gazes fixed on you. "Guess who I just got an email from!"

"The president!"

"My grandma!"

"My Cocker Spaniel!"

"Oliver's grandma!"

You just shook your head and tried not to laugh as you said, "None of the above. But do you remember when we wrote and packed up those letters for a real aviator in the military to read?" Most of the kids nodded, so you added, "Well, he emailed us! And he sent us some mail that should arrive in about a week!"

And telling them that was a mistake. Because you didn't know a moment of peace after that. Every morning, you had kids rushing into the room to see if the promised piece of mail arrived yet. Every day you had to disappoint them, but you were finding yourself a little disappointed, too. You wanted to know what this Bradley Bradshaw guy sent back.

You'd responded to his initial email letting him know you and the kids in your class were delighted to hear from him and that you would let him know when the mail he sent arrived at your school. He didn't respond, but you figured he was busy. Too busy to constantly muck about with your class while he was thousands of miles away on a deployment.

And that was what left you standing at your desk with your mouth hanging open in awe when the padded envelope did finally arrive one morning. Because when you carefully cut it open, you found not just one letter to the class but individual handwritten notes, one for each child.

"Wow," you whispered, pulling the note with your name written on the top out of the stack. This man seemed humble and sweet, and his letter made you laugh in more than one spot as you read through it. Then you read it again. He sounded apologetic about responding to each individual kid, but you felt like your insides were melting. Who would do that? Who would take the time to give individual attention to a bunch of nine and ten year olds besides you? And you were technically getting paid to do it.

Bradley Bradshaw seemed willing to continue to engage with your kids, and you weren't going to stop him. Because starting that morning, he became something of a legend to your class. A celebrity. A real lieutenant in the Navy replied to all of their silly questions, and their love of aviation just grew from there. You figured you were going to have to keep your lesson plans going a bit longer while their faces lit up as you walked around the room and handed them each their notes. You had taken the time to skim them beforehand, often laughing at his sense of humor which seemed to jump off the pages.

"Can we write back to him?" Jayden asked as everyone read their notes from Lieutenant Bradshaw. "I have more questions."

You smiled and nodded. "Yes, you may write back to him." Then you postponed your geology lesson until the next day and let them spend the next forty minutes writing some followup letters. You took some pictures of them diligently toiling away at their desks, excitement on their faces. Then you bit your lip and sat down at your own desk.

As you started to construct an email letting him know the envelope had arrived, your thoughts drifted to what he might be like. Humble and sweet, for sure. But he also made it a point to tell you that the box from your class was the best piece of mail he'd ever received while deployed. Maybe he was a little bit lonely. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was stationed on the west coast. Your thoughts started to get ahead of you, and it was hard to reel them in when you imagined him excited to see another email from you. Smiling when he was handed another box from your class during mail call.

Dear Lt Bradley Bradshaw,

We got the envelope from you today, and my kids are absolutely thrilled! I'm not sure if you know how hard it can be to wrangle eighteen fourth graders all at one time, but they are currently sitting quietly and working on new letters for you to read. Once again, please don't feel obligated to continue correspondence if you're too busy. I'm sure you have other people you could be writing to who want your attention as well. I just wanted you to know they are overjoyed that a Naval officer took the time to answer their questions about aviation.

I have attached some photos as proof that they are sitting still. Thanks again for making their day.

You signed your name at the bottom the way you always would from your work email account, and then you attached the photos. After a brief debate about adding the selfie you took with Violet where most of your face was visible, you decided to just go for it. Adding it to the mix wouldn't hurt anything. It wasn't like this semi mystery man would be up all night thinking about you.

But you found that you were still thinking about him when you went home to your silent house and made dinner that evening. Maybe he was a little bit lonely, but maybe you were, too.

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

It was amazing how infrequently Bradley found himself thinking about Vanessa. He was busier now with his duties picking up a bit more as his deployment wore on, but even when he was tired and in his bunk at night, his thoughts seldom settled on her like he was afraid they might. He didn't miss her or her half-hearted emails, and he wasn't craving the connection of reunion sex with her.

Instead, he was thinking about what a group of fourth graders were learning about this week and what their cute teacher was up to. It had been a few days since you emailed him, letting him know that his package was delivered to your school. You made it sound like the kids were excited that he sent it in the first place, and when he really thought about it, he supposed some officers would have just eaten the snacks and tossed the notes in the trash.

He didn't reply to the email yet, still thrown off a bit by the pictures you attached. Your classroom was vibrant, and the kids were absorbed as they worked on more notes for him to read whenever they happened to be delivered to the carrier. But the photo with you in it held his attention longer than it should have. The fact that you were working at a school that was just a handful of miles from his damn house made him feel warm.

But what would he do about it? What could he do about it? Nothing. He didn't want you to think he was creepy. He still knew essentially nothing else about you. The only thing he could do was keep it friendly if not professional. Unless of course you did something to push the boundaries of conversation into a more personal realm. God, if you did....he didn't think he would be able to handle it.

The next day, when he was heading out on deck to talk to the mechanics who were doing regular maintenance on the aircrafts, he took his phone. "Hey, you mind if I take a few photos of some of the engine parts? I want to send them to a class of fourth graders who will think it's cool."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the head mechanic replied. Then he smiled and asked, "You dating a teacher?"

Well. Wouldn't that be something? Bradley would never run out of curious pen pals. He would always have some fourth graders to take interesting photos for and to send notes to. He'd always have a classroom to visit as soon as he got home from a deployment.

He couldn't help but picture you as the teacher.

"Nothing like that," he replied, his voice a little gravelly. "Just writing to some kids who are learning about aviation."

After dinner, when he had a chance to use an iPad in the lounge, he did his best to put together a response to your email that would at least hint at the curiosity he felt.

If all it takes is mail from three thousand miles away to get your class to sit quietly, then I should probably be writing to you every day. But I'm sure you're a great teacher. That's a given considering how much your students learned and shared with me. And I can assure you that I'm more than happy to take the time to write to your class. And you. Please don't think I feel obligated, because I do not. I want to.

I have attached a few pictures of some F/A-18 engine components as well as some of my cockpit controls. Each photo is labeled, but please let me know if you have any questions.

It was nice hearing from you.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

As soon as he hit send, he wanted to kick himself. Should he have included a photo of his face like you had twice now? Or did he already sound too desperate to hear from you and your class again?

"Shit," he muttered, looking around the lounge as if there was going to be someone here proficient in the art of getting to know a fourth grade teacher without sounding stupid. But it was too late now. All he could do was wait for the next mail call or hope you decided to write back to his ramblings by the next time he checked his email.

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

You were going to have to scrape your jaw off the floor. You had no idea what this man's face even looked like, but his hands were... something else. And his thighs... well, they were pretty great, too. It must have been too long since you got laid, because you were sitting at your desk in your classroom staring at the set of photos in your inbox, currently unable to look away from his right hand. It was wrapped around the throttle of his aircraft. It was elegant with attractive veins and rough calluses. You were sure that you were supposed to be focusing on the cockpit controls, but all you could see was that hand and his thick, muscular thighs below.

The next photo was no better for you. He was holding up his helmet with his call sign Rooster emblazoned across the front, and you were able to see his left ring finger. There was no wedding band. There was no evidence of an outline where a wedding band would belong. There was just his big, strong hand.

You whimpered softly while your students worked on their math tests. You couldn't help it as you took one last look before logging out of your email account. And now you needed to know if his face matched the very attractive image you had in your mind.

When Jayden called your name, you rocketed to your feet like you'd been caught red handed. "Yes?" you squeaked, your voice sounding higher pitched than usual.

"I'm done with my test. May I have the hall pass and use the restroom?"

You handed it to him as the rest of your class finished working through the math problems. A few minutes later, when you collected the papers from them, Violet asked, "When is Lieutenant Bradshaw going to write back to us?"

It had only been a few days since you mailed him the second box of notes and some more snacks, but it made you happy that they were all so invested in learning more from him.

"It will probably be a few weeks before we get anything in the mail. However... he did email me some pictures of engine and cockpit parts from the aircraft carrier for me to share with you guys." When you looked around the room, the kids were on the edges of their seats, excited expressions on their faces. With a laugh you added, "I was going to wait until tomorrow and use the projector to show them all to you, but if you're very well behaved for the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could pull them up on my computer for you to see them today."

Not two hours later, you were just as excited as the kids were to look at the photos... again. As they crowded around your desk, you opened up the first one of the cockpit to a barrage of questions.

"Is that really his jet?"

"Is that the throttle?"

"What do all the buttons do?"

"Was this right before he flew it?"

Once again you were distracted, but you managed to click over to the next photo, and the kids gasped in delight.

"His helmet is so cool!"

"It says Rooster!"

"That's his call sign!"

"Red is my favorite color!"

You just smiled softly and laughed. "Should we go ahead and start working on another list of questions for him?" you asked as you slowly scrolled through the rest of the pictures. "He said we can write back to him as much as we want to." When everyone cheered, you handed Oliver a marker and pointed to the board at the front of the classroom. "Let's start making a list."

You listened to all of your students call out questions for Bradley while Oliver wrote them down. Then Violet asked, "Can he send us a picture of his whole jet? From the outside of it?"

You cleared your throat and added, "Maybe he could get someone else to take the picture so he could stand in front of it. For size comparison."

Violet nodded, but you knew you were a fraud. Sure, it would be great for the kids to understand just how massive the F/A-18s were compared to an actual person, but you were the one who wanted to see all of Bradley. You were itching for it now.

Later that night, you drank most of a bottle of wine and did something you promised yourself you'd never do. You logged into your work email account after nine o'clock. You skipped over the handful of unread emails from parents and clicked on the icon to compose a new message. With your liquid courage goading you on, you typed up a response to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and hit send before you could think twice.

Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now.

We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.

You couldn't believe how forward you were being with this man who you'd never even met in person, but you fell asleep thinking about his hands and what they might be capable of.

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This Bradley makes me swoon. I've never wanted to be a fourth grade teacher so badly in my life. There is something that's starting to blossom between them even though they haven't even met in person. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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891 notes · View notes

shonen-brainrot · 4 months

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Divorced!Bakugo, who clung to the belief that your talk of divorce was a jest until the final moments. However, when the papers arrived in the mail, disbelief gripped him. The reality struck hard — you had indeed taken the steps, filling out the divorce papers. The truth unfolded before him: you no longer wished to be Dynamight's wife.

Divorced!Bakugo, who, aware of his anger issues that you found disturbing, chose not to address or change his harsh demeanor. His gruff and ugly behavior persisted, marked by frequent outbursts and yelling directed at both you and his child. His dedication to hero work took precedence over family time, leading to his frequent absence. In addition, he exhibited controlling tendencies, exerting influence over every aspect of your life.

Divorced!Bakugo, who refused a cordial divorce, and instead chose to air your private grievances publicly. With a sadistic amusement, he watched as you struggled to maintain composure in the court.

Divorced!Bakugo, who's now haunted by the echoes of a love that once burned brightly. He now navigates the desolate landscape of solitude. In the quiet of his empty home, the walls seem to absorb the unspoken words that were never uttered during those final, bitter moments. The scent of loneliness lingers, a constant reminder of the void left in the wake of a shattered relationship.

Divorced!Bakugo, who wears a mask of indifference, concealing the cracks in his heart. The world sees the explosive hero, but beneath the surface, there's a vulnerability that only the shadows witness.

Divorced!Bakugo, who sinks into an unhealthy state of mind. The solitude that envelopes him becomes a breeding ground for toxic thoughts. Haunted by relentless thoughts of you and the child you took away, he struggles to maintain focus. Katsuki finds his concentration shattered, the clarity needed for his hero duties slipping through his fingers like sand. Mistakes become an unwelcome companion, a repetitive dance of errors that threatens the efficiency he once prided himself on.

Divorced!Bakugo, who only feels rage when news of you moving on, finding someone new, lands like a crushing blow. His heart, already battered, is now subjected to the relentless storm of jealousy and insecurity. Unable to resist the urge, Kasuki succumbs to the dark temptation of cyber-stalking, googling and scouring every available digital space for information about the new man in your and your child's life.

Divorced!Bakugo, who, in a fit of uncontrollable rage triggered by news of your new relationship, unleashes destructive fury. He obliterates every photo, every remnant of your shared life, screaming and incinerating possessions with his quirk. The once-sacred spaces of your bedroom and ground-floor office in the shared penthouse are consumed by the havoc.

Divorced!Bakugo, confronted with the aftermath of his destructive outburst, collapses in the center of what was once your shared bedroom. Tears stream down his face as he desperately attempts to salvage at least one picture from the ashes and shattered glass that now cover the floor. His heart aches with regret, and the weight of anxiety presses down on him, threatening to crush his resolve. Amid the wreckage, a glimmer of hope emerges. Surprisingly, one particular picture defies the destruction he wrought upon the room – a captured moment of you in your wedding dress and him in his sleek black suit, exchanging vows on the day of your marriage.

Divorced!Bakugo, who clutches a photo to his chest, tears streaming down his face like a torrent. In that poignant moment, he vows to transform, promising himself that he'll demonstrate his genuine wish for happiness for both you and your child, even if you've moved on. Despite shattered dreams he destroyed himself, he yearns to be a presence in your life, aspiring to salvage a friendship, a flicker of hope burning within him, praying you'll consider it.

#ru writes 🍬#mha headcanons #bakugo headcanons #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo angst #mha angst #mha bakugou

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pucksandpower · 8 months

Note

Ooh, for the grid kids series, how about the time when all the grid kids had to babysit Seb and y/n's daughter? I feel like it would be chaos all around.

Grid Kids: Baby-Sitters Club

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids have tamed some of the fastest cars on the planet but can they tame their baby sister?

Series Masterlist

Max Verstappen: Good Taste in Music

“Alright, mate, remember, she likes the pacifier if she starts crying and always check if she’s hungry,” Sebastian instructs as he hands over the baby monitor to Max.

Max nods, trying to hide the nervousness on his face. “Got it. How hard can it be? I’ve tamed a Red Bull, after all.”

You chuckle, “It’s not the same, Max. She’s not going to pit in 2.4 seconds if she needs something.”

Handing over a small pink bag, you add, “There’s some milk in the bottle and a few toys. Oh, and if she starts crying and won’t stop, play her the Formula 1 theme. She strangely calms down to that.”

Max, cradling the baby carefully in his arms, smirks. “Like mother, like daughter.”

Sebastian laughs, “Alright, we’ll be back in a couple of hours. You got this.”

An hour into his babysitting gig and things are surprisingly smooth. Max and the little one are seated on the couch, with him talking to her about overtaking techniques and the importance of tire management.

Suddenly, a small wail interrupts his monologue. Max’s eyes widen in slight panic. He tries the pacifier. No luck. He checks the diaper. Still dry. The wailing grows louder.

Thinking quickly, he connects his phone to the speakers and starts playing the F1 theme song. Just as you said, the baby’s cries subside and she starts to doze off.

Max lets out a sigh of relief, whispering to the now sleeping baby, “You’re going to be a racer, aren’t you? Just remember, Maxie taught you the basics.”

A few hours later, you return to find Max fast asleep on the couch with a snoozing baby cuddled on his chest, the F1 theme playing softly in the background. You share a smile, knowing your little girl is in good hands with her grid brothers.

Charles Leclerc: Start Them Young

“Okay, she might be a bit tricky during her nap times. She’s been fighting sleep a lot lately,” you adjust the baby bag over Charles’ shoulder.

Charles gives a confident nod, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Don’t worry, I have a plan. Have you ever tried Ferrari engine sounds to help her fall asleep?”

Sebastian chuckles, “Not quite the lullaby most kids go for but anything is worth a shot.”

You smile, patting Charles on the back, “Good luck. We’ll be back soon.”

An hour into babysitting, the little one is becoming restless, rubbing her eyes, yet refusing to close them. Charles has an idea. Booting up his laptop, he finds a clip from one of the recent races, and soon, the familiar sound of a roaring Ferrari engine fills the room.

Amazingly, the baby’s eyes start to droop, and within minutes, she’s sound asleep. Charles grins triumphantly, feeling quite proud of his unconventional method.

Later, he decides to do a mini photoshoot, dressing her up in a tiny Ferrari onesie he secretly bought and posing her with a little Ferrari model car.

Upon returning, you and Sebastian are welcomed by a giggling Charles showing them the adorable pictures. “Look, she’s a natural Tifosa! We start them young.”

Sebastian laughs, “That’s one way to do it. Just remember, she’s got Red Bull and Aston Martin blood too.”

Charles winks, “We’ll see about that!"

You can’t help but laugh, “No matter the team, she’s got the best grid brothers around.”

Lance Stroll: Canadian by Proxy

“Alright, little miss, ready for some Canadian immersion?” Lance grins widely, holding up a tiny hockey stick and puck. “It’s never too early for your first hockey lesson.”

You raise an eyebrow, laughing, “I’m not sure she can even hold that stick yet, let alone play.”

Lance winks, adjusting the baby-sized Montreal Canadiens jersey he brought with him. “Trust me, by the time I’m done, she’ll be ready for the NHL.”

Sebastian smirks, “Just remember, no actual skating yet.”

With you and Sebastian heading out, Lance sets the scene for a cozy afternoon. He places the baby on a soft blanket, surrounding her with plush hockey toys, and turns on a recorded game. Soon, the room echoes with the sounds of cheering fans and commentary.

The baby gazes curiously at the screen, her little fingers reaching out to grasp the mini puck Lance places in front of her. Lance, laying beside her, narrates the game with exaggerated commentary, making her giggle with delight.

Halfway through their game, Lance feels adventurous. He gently places the baby in a laundry basket cushioned with a plush blanket, using the mini hockey stick to push her around, mimicking the action on the TV screen. Her laughter fills the room as they play their unique version of indoor hockey.

By the time you return, you find Lance, completely worn out, sprawled on the floor, with your daughter, dressed in her little hockey jersey, contentedly napping next to him, clutching the mini stick.

Sebastian laughs, “Looks like you had quite the game.”

Lance grins, slightly out of breath, “She’s got potential. Might just be the next German hockey prodigy.”

You chuckle, “Thanks, Lance. Just remember, before hockey comes racing.”

He winks, “We’ll see. Maybe She’ll bring the Stanley Cup back home to Montreal one day!”

George Russell: Pulling Pigtails

“George! Over here!” You wave, holding out the baby bag as George ambles over, hair in its usual perfect quiff.

“Well, hello there!” George greets, bending over to coo at the baby who instantly reaches out, tiny fingers eager to grab his thick hair.

“Looks like someone’s a fan of your hair,” Sebastian remarks with a chuckle, watching as his daughter gleefully tugs on George's hair.

George laughs, wincing just a tad. “It’s alright, who needs a hairdresser when you have such a cute little stylist?”

You hand over a bottle of milk, “She just had a nap and might be hungry soon. And, well, you might want to keep an eye on your hair.”

With baby in arms, George heads over to the living room. Laying out a blanket, he places her down, only to have her immediately try crawling towards him, reaching for his hair again. Grinning, he plays a little game, leaning in close and then pulling back, making her giggle each time.

As the afternoon progresses, George discovers that his hair is the ultimate distraction. Whether she’s fussy or just bored, having his hair within reach keeps her entertained. Even feeding her becomes easier as she remains captivated by his hair while sipping on her milk.

Feeling a tad mischievous, George decides to shoot a quick Instagram story, showing the world his new hairdresser in action. Fans immediately flood the comments, loving the adorable interaction between the racing star and the tiny tot.

When you and Sebastian return, you find George seated, baby in his lap, both engrossed in a video of funny hair fails. His hair now looks nothing like its usual pristine self, instead resembling a bird’s nest.

“Seems like you two had quite the day,” you remark with a laugh.

George, brushing a hand through his tousled hair, smiles, “Best hair appointment ever. And the most adorable tiny stylist to boot.”

Lando Norris: Stealing the Show

“Alright, munchkin, just you and me today. How hard can this be?” Lando chirps, picking up the little bundle and settling her onto the couch, surrounding her with cushions. The room is set up for his usual streaming session, his gaming chair at the ready and multiple screens glowing.

He’s barely into his first game when a small cry interrupts him. “Hungry already?” he asks, looking over to see her trying to grab the controller lying next to her. “Ah, you want in on the action?”

Quickly, Lando scoops her up and settles her on his lap, handing her a toy controller. “There you go, co-host,” he says with a grin, adjusting his headset and returning to his game.

He’s live-streaming and the chat exploded with comments about his adorable helper.

Who’s the kiddo?

That’s some fierce competition you got there!

Does she have her own Twitch channel yet?

But the peace doesn’t last long. In the middle of a particularly intense race, the baby suddenly decides to slam her toy controller on the keyboard. The game goes haywire, Lando’s car spinning out of control.

“Oh no! Sabotage!” Lando exclaims, laughing even as he tries to regain control.

The baby giggles, clearly pleased with the chaos she’s caused. Lando’s chat goes wild with laughter and teasing comments.

Dude, you just got schooled by a baby!

That’s what you get for multi-tasking

She’s clearly the superior gamer

Shaking his head in mock exasperation, Lando says, “Alright, alright, you win this round.” He lifts her up, peppering her face with playful kisses, making her squeal and show a gummy smile.

Throughout the stream, there are more interruptions — from spit-up incidents to sudden dance breaks every time she gets fussy. Lando quickly learns that streaming with a baby requires a whole new level of multitasking.

As the stream comes to an end, Lando addresses his viewers. “Thanks for joining in. Hope you enjoyed the special appearance by our youngest gamer here. Maybe we’ll make this a regular thing?”

The unanimous response? More baby streams!

Chuckling, Lando signs off, “Say bye-bye, little co-driver.”

She waves her tiny hand as the screen goes black.

Mick Schumacher: Baby Meets Fur Baby

“Hey there, Ang,” Mick says with a smile as he enters the room, the baby cradled in his arms. Angie, his Australian Shepherd, immediately perks up, her tail wagging enthusiastically.

The baby’s eyes widen as she takes in the large, furry creature approaching her. Mick chuckles, gently lowering her onto the floor as he kneels down beside her. “This is Angie,” he introduces, watching as the dog sniffs curiously at the baby.

Angie’s warm, wet nose tickles the baby’s palm and she lets out a squeal, her fingers curling in delight. “Looks like you’ve made a new friend,” Mick chuckles, patting Angie’s head.

As if sensing the baby’s fascination, Angie sits down and gently places her head in the baby’s lap. The baby giggles, her tiny fingers brushing against the soft fur. Mick watches the interaction with a fond smile, his heart melting at the sight of his dog and baby sister bonding.

Mick then picks up a toy from the nearby pile and hands it to the baby. “Here you go, little one. Angie’s sharing her toys with you.”

The baby takes the toy, inspecting it with wide eyes before promptly attempting to shove it into Angie’s mouth. Mick chuckles softly, taking the toy from her and showing her how to play with it.

“Hey, Angie, be gentle,” Mick instructs his dog, who seems just as excited as the baby about the playtime. As Angie retrieves her own toy and lays down beside the baby, Mick joins them on the floor, ensuring the little one doesn’t get overwhelmed.

Time flies as they play together, the baby’s giggles filling the room. Mick can’t help but smile at the simple joy on her face and he finds himself falling into a gentle rhythm with her.

After a while, the baby’s eyelids start to droop and her fingers loosen their grip on the toy. Mick smiles, knowing she’s getting tired. “Looks like someone’s ready for a nap,” he whispers, carefully picking her up and cradling her in his arms.

Angie follows them as they make their way to the nursery. Mick gently lays her down in the crib, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “Sleep tight, little one.”

As he turns to leave the room, Angie hesitates by the crib, looking back at the baby with a soft whimper. Mick chuckles, scratching behind her ears. “Don’t worry, Ang. You’ll be here when she wakes up.”

Runaway Baby

Max, face flushed, darts through the paddock, narrowly avoiding a mechanic pushing a cart of tires. “I swear I just saw her here!” he shouts, barely avoiding a collision.

Lando, holding a stuffed bear, pants as he catches up, “I turned around for a second and she was gone! How does someone so small move so fast?”

Charles is on the phone, trying to speak over the noise, “We’ve got everything under control, just ... some tiny mishaps. Nothing to worry about!”

“Tiny mishaps? Charles, that’s an understatement!” George interrupts, waving a baby bottle in his hand.

Lance, coming out of the Aston Martin garage, looks worried, “Checked the garages, no sign of her. We need a strategy guys, like an actual race strategy but without Ferrari messing it up this time.”

George chimes in, “How did we lose her? There were six of us and one of her!”

Mick looks pale, “I was showing her my dad’s old helmet and turned around for one second to put it down. Then she just toddled away while I wasn’t looking!"

Suddenly, from a distance, there’s a familiar baby giggle. They turn to see a reporter, microphone in hand, crouched down in front of a camera. Their sister sits beside him, happily babbling away, reaching out for the fuzzy microphone cover.

The reporter, clearly amused, asks, “And who do you think is going to win the race today?” The baby, enthralled with the microphone, tries to chew on it.

Lando sighs in relief, “Well, she’s got a future in media, that’s for sure.”

Charles approaches the duo, scooping up the baby and thanking the reporter. “Thanks for babysitting. You might have a new pundit here.”

The grid kids gather around, all breathing sighs of relief. Max ruffles his sister’s hair, “You gave us quite the scare, snoepje.”

“She definitely knows how to steal the spotlight,” Mick says with a chuckle.

You and Sebastian, having witnessed the chaos from afar, approach with raised eyebrows. You smirk, “You guys thought babysitting in the paddock would be easy?”

Lando grins sheepishly, “Definitely more challenging than a race, that’s for sure.”

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jgracie · 23 days

Text

⚡️ DATING JASON GRACE

masterlist | rules

percy’s version | leo’s version | frank’s version | travis’ version | luke’s version

in which in a world of boys, he's a gentleman

pairing jason grace x fem!reader

warnings reader is implied to not be a child of the big three + a greek

When Taylor Swift said, “in a world of boys, he’s a gentleman,” she was talking about Jason. That whole song is just about Jason

This man is so respectful and considerate and just really wonderful. He feels too good to be true! Which is why you don’t let yourself fall for him at first. He’s literally the most perfect guy you’ve ever met

Meanwhile, Jason’s thinking the same about you. To him, you’re a breath of fresh air from all the rigidness and strict lines he’s been forced into not only as a Roman but as a son of Jupiter. Why would you want to be stuck with someone as boring as him?

So you just spent your days longingly gazing at each other when the other wasn’t looking while also avoiding each other in public spaces because both of you were slightly intimidated by the other’s gorgeous presence

Your first proper interaction must’ve been orchestrated by Hera and Aphrodite themselves considering how adamant you two were on being 6ft apart at all times, and surprisingly, it was in the mortal world

You were spending the day at your favourite library because you missed it and liked to pretend your life was normal by blending in with mortals, and also because you had studying you needed to do since quests left ample time for schoolwork

Jason was there because he’d been cooped up at camp for as long as he could remember and wanted to see what life away from the Gods and their schemes was like, and what better place to figure that out than a library?

You breathed a sigh of relief as you finally finished the essay you’d been working on since you arrived at the library. It had been weighing on your mind for days but you couldn’t find time for it until today. As a reward for your hard work, you decided to get yourself a sweet treat (me too girl) before continuing your studies

Haphazardly packing up your stuff, you quickly got up, practically drooling at the thought of the new menu item you were finally going to get after craving for weeks

You were a little too excited. As you turned, you bumped into someone, dropping some of your papers

“Gods, I’m so sorry,” the person you bumped into said, quickly bending down to gather all your stuff

You knew that voice. You could recognise it anywhere

“Jason? What’re you doing here?” You said, suddenly feeling awfully hot for no particular reason

That was the day you really befriended Jason Grace. He decided to accompany you to the cafe you planned to go to, paid for your order and spent the rest of the day there with you. Away from all the craziness of demigod life, you and Jason finally got to truly know each other

After a while of getting closer, you two begin to date, and it might just be the most beautiful relationship known to man. The way Jason acted before you began dating was nothing compared to now. That was just the bare minimum

You literally never have to lift a finger around him as he insists on doing everything for you. He opens doors for you, pulls your chairs out and takes your coats off for you. If you’re on a quest and you need to sleep, he makes sure you always get the comfier place and takes first watch

He also always leaves you notes. Sometimes they’re notes of motivation, sometimes they’re small poems about how much he loves you and sometimes they’re just really random

Jason is a big fan of taking polaroid pictures with you. After Hera stripped him of his whole life, he’s always had a fear of waking up one day with the same feeling he had on that wilderness school bus, so he takes pictures with all the people he loves and keeps journals and has a box full of all the things that are important to him in case it happens

He keeps one in his wallet at all times to ensure his immediate remembrance of you if his memories get taken again

(As if he’d forget you in the first place. Hera would have to pry the memories of you out of his cold, dead hands)

Your siblings love him so much too! They were a little stressed at first because he’s a child of Zeus, the God notorious for breaking the hearts of his lovers and cheating on his eternal wife, but he showed up at your cabin door to pick you up for a date with a bouquet of flowers for the cabin and then walked you back himself, staying outside until the very second the door was shut and now they love him LOL

Sometimes you think they love him more than you because they’re always asking about him

You spend a lot of time at his cabin. He disguises it as just really wanting to spend time with you and while that is true, secretly it's also because the Zeus cabin gets super cold and lonely and is also kind of scary at night, even though he sleeps in the one space away from the gaze of his father

“Honey,” Jason says, wrapping an arm around your waist. The campfire sing along had ended which signified the end of the day, and all around you, campers were wishing their friends goodnight as they headed to their cabins. You suppressed a giggle, knowing exactly what Jason wanted from the tone of his voice

You hummed, giving your boyfriend a bleary-eyed smile as you waited for him to voice his request. It was cute how even though you’d done this many times before, he still got shy at the idea of you two sleeping in the same room, on the same bed

“Would you maybe wanna spend the night at my cabin? I missed you today, and I can’t even begin to imagine how hot it must be in your cabin, with all your siblings in it, y’know.”

“Are you asking because you missed me or because you’re scared of daddy dearest?” You quipped, unable to contain yourself as his face turned bright red

“I’m kidding, Jase, of course I’ll spend the night with you!”

Later on in your relationship, when he’s sure you’re the one for life, he shows you around New Rome. He grew up with a peaceful life in the city being the goal, so it only made sense for him to show you around

Loves the way you light up at everything around you. He’d known New Rome for his whole life and could draw a map of it blind, but you make it feel brand new

Is ecstatic when you tell him you also want to start a life with him in New Rome. The moment you utter those words he’s already signed papers for an apartment and is drawing punnett squares to figure out what your kids would look like (I hate punnett squares they are the bane of my existence)

You know the part in The Notebook where the girl’s describing the house she wants? That’s what Jason showing u around New Rome reminds you of

Years later, you reminisce on the way you’d avoid each other as you tell your kids about your lives as teens in your lovely house in New Rome because he definitely did not die <3

#jason grace x reader #jason grace x you #jason grace x y/n #jason grace #jason grace x fem reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #jason grace fanfic #pjo fanfic #percy jackson fanfic #jason grace drabble #cynwrites

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