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zarameraki · 4 months

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♡₊˚☀️・₊✧ 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶'𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 & 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 ♡₊˚☀️・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 he's obsessed to the max 𖥔 ceo x baker 𖥔 grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 she talks a lot x he listens a lot 𖥔 spoils the literal shit out of you 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content in vague details 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 super soft nanami 𖥔 close proximity 𖥔 he loves kissing the fuck out of you

: ̗̀➛ words: 7.7k

: ̗̀➛ notes: you guys are so sweet for supporting my toji fanfic which is why i wanted to write another and this time its about my husband, the father of our children, the man who deserves every beautiful thing in this world. if you enjoy my work, please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy!

Nanami Kento entered your bakery at exactly six o' clock.

You carefully observed the moments he dedicated to perusing the array of pastries, the vibrant mountain of macaroons, and the freshly baked, warm casse-croûte that you unfailingly prepared for him when he clocked out. There was a tender quality to his countenance, noticeable in the slight release of tension between his brows as the soft, buttery flakes dissolved on his tongue in your presence. Without fail, he consistently left a generous tip in your travel jar, dedicated to a solo trip to Malaysia.

"Did you know they've got this thing about not wearing yellow in Malaysia?" you mentioned during your initial meeting, eyeing the distinctive black-dotted tie worn by the stoic salaryman. "Well, not that your tie would get you in trouble; it's not entirely yellow. In fact, I think it's perfect as it is, just like your hair, which also has a touch of yellow.”

Please cut your tongue off.

Anticipating a polite nod and perhaps a slightly regretful five-dollar tip left in the jar, you were taken aback when he queried, “Why is that?”

“Oh, uh . . . a bunch of protesters wore the color during a demand for their prime minister to step down," you stumbled, feeling a twinge of embarrassment for veering off into an unintentional crash course. Dropping trivia about Malaysia wasn't exactly the same as flirting. "So, it's kind of become a symbolism for protest and, well, threat. I read it in a book once. I don't know if it's a legitimate law, though."

“Do you like reading?” he asked, still interested in conversing with you. “Most people would Google information.”

“I like reading. It’s easier to retain information that way.”

Nanami acknowledged your gesture with a nod of gratitude as he accepted the casse-croûte and exited your bakery. Anticipating that he might not return due to his reserved nature and your awkward attempts at compliment-flirting, you were surprised to find that he was, in fact, full of surprises.

Nanami became a regular visitor. Day after day, for the past year, he arrived at precisely six o' clock. He continued his routine, whether he purchased a box of pastries, a pair of bagged bread loaves, or simply a casse-croûte and a small cup of milk coffee. You always prepared his order five minutes ahead of time, just in case you were occupied with other customers.

"Enjoy!" you chirped, casting a warm smile at the customer you just served as the bakery slowly emptied, leaving only Nanami browsing the delightful array of small cakes. "Good evening, Mr. Nanami!"

Nanami raised his head in your direction. "Good evening." He finally settled on the black forest cake from the open freezer and brought it to the counter.

"Special occasion?" you inquired as you rang him out, sneakily not charging him for the casse-croûte and coffee. There was a special occasion of your own that you were eager to share, hanging from the tip of your tongue.

"An intern's birthday."

"Sounds fun!" You had been saving up for your birthday present since summer, and Nanami had played a significant role. "When's your birthday?"

"July third."

Your eyes widened with surprise. "No way! Mine is July sixth. We’re summer babies."

“Happy belated birthday,” he said, fishing for his wallet, gaze barely meeting yours.

"Same to you." Offering the sandwich and coffee, you extended them towards him. "Consider it a belated birthday treat."

Nanami’s brows crinkled. “I cannot accept.”

"Why not? It's a gift." You slid the items closer with a subtle nudge, leaving him little room to refuse. "And you've given me a priceless gift, Mr. Nanami." Your eyes hinted at the tip jar's location, which now lay empty.

“Were you robbed?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.

“What—? No! Oh my god. You’re so funny.” A chuckle escaped behind your fist, and he observed you momentarily before glancing away. "I'm heading to Malaysia next week!"

Nanami gave a subtle nod. Although his lack of a more animated response disappointed you, you understood that shortness was his nature. "Congratulations.”

"Thank you, Mr. Nanami. Your generous tips really made a difference. They covered half of our trip.”

“Our? It’s not a solo trip?”

You let out a little nervous laugh. Should you really be telling Nanami about your crippling love life? Would he even be interested? Well, he seemed to listen carefully when you talk. Maybe he wouldn’t care, but you really needed someone to talk to about this. Unfortunately, all your friends were too busy with their marriages to care.

“Well?” Nanami prompted.

"Right, sorry. It's just—I've actually been seeing someone. Funny enough, we met in a Facebook group for solo travelers. He lives in a nearby town.”

Unexpectedly, Nanami's first question caught you off guard. "Can you trust him?" His concern surfaced, causing you to pause. "I'm only asking because you met this man online. You can't trust strangers on the internet."

"Thank you, Mr. Nanami, but I’m capable enough to know about stranger danger," you said with a funny smile, dismissing his parental concern. "Besides, we’ve gone on a few dates over the past month."

Nanami's frown remained intact. "Correct me if I’m wrong, but are you paying for him, too?"

"Yes."

“Why?” Nanami asked, firmly placing his palms on the counter, making it clear he wasn't leaving until he was convinced you wouldn't get in trouble during your Malaysian adventure.

"What do you mean 'why'?"

His mouth opened but then closed into a thin line, his forehead lines deepening. "It’s not my place to tell you what’s right and what isn’t—"

"Yes, you’re right about that," you interrupted.

"—but this is bordering on recklessness. You cannot use your trip’s money to pay for a man you’ve known for a mere month. Why is he even in the traveler’s group if he cannot afford to pay for himself?"

"Mr. Nan—"

"You are being scammed."

Your teeth clenched together. You rarely got impatient. Years in the hospitality industry and dealing with misogynistic tenants didn't break you. Even setting up your bakery and almost draining your savings didn't dim your optimism.

But getting scolded by someone who barely spoke more than five sentences to you in a whole year of being a regular? That's pushing it.

He didn't know you or Toji, the guy you're seeing. He didn’t understand how much you appreciated him accompanying you. So what if you covered his share of the trip expenses? Toji promised to pay you back, and he's been paying the bills for your dates. They might not be fancy, but it's the gesture that matters.

Sure, Nanami chipped in some money, and you're thankful for that. But he has no right to question you. Other people also contributed to your travel fund; it's not like he single-handedly financed the whole trip. You appreciated his support, but he was not in a position to lecture you.

With a sigh, you managed to contain your frustration and said, "Have a great rest of your night, Mr. Nanami.”

Nanami's frustration was palpable as he stood firm, his gaze piercing through the windows of your soul. “I suggest you take my advice into serious consideration. It would greatly upset me if you had the chance to visit one of your favorite countries taken from you.”

You didn't bother watching him go. Instead, your discovery awaited you at the counter—the money for the coffee and casse-croûte lay there, accompanied by a crumpled yellow note that had slipped to the floor. Moving around the counter, you picked it up and smoothed out its wrinkles.

What greeted you was your own name scrawled across the sticky note, repeated around fifty times, the letters overlapping in a chaotic dance. Some were hastily scratched out, while others were executed with perfect cursive precision. You didn’t know what to make of it.

During your confusion, a new customer walked in. Quickly, you pocketed the note, focused on carrying on with your day despite the lingering frustration that Nanami's cryptic message had left in its wake.

Toji never showed up.

You waited for him for two agonizing hours, extending the torture even more after your flight had taken off. It dawned on you that he likely didn't bother getting a ticket. He probably pocketed the money you sent him and vanished into thin air. Every attempt to reach him failed miserably—your calls were forwarded, and the fifth one hammered the heartbreaking truth that he had blocked your number. To compound your misery, you sent him a string of text messages that refused to deliver your pain. You didn't even know where he lived, as your encounters were always in the obscure locations of your budgeted dates.

The thought of reporting him to the police crossed your mind, accusing him of theft, but the lack of photographic evidence left you helpless. To make matters worse, he hated taking pictures, and you were uncertain if the name he provided was even real. All that remained was a flicker of hope that you might cross paths with the bastard and unleash your pent-up rage with a hard kick to his dick.

With a heavy heart, you gathered your strength, brushed away the tears until not a single trace remained on your lashes, and lugged your suitcase and carry-on outside the airport, hoping to hail a cab.

The idea of facing the upcoming days at work felt agonizing, goading you to spend them in the isolation of your shabby apartment. You were engrossed in a depressing routine—microwaved dinners, aimless hours on the couch, and a marathon of old cable TV shows.

As hunger struck again, you contemplated your options. Baking seemed like a possibility, but motivation had abandoned you. Pasta could be an option, but the lack of noodles and tomato sauce made it impractical. So, you settled for the one thing that required no ingredients: crying.

At least that was free.

Despite the inner turmoil, you mustered the strength to shoulder your overcoat, sporting your fleece pajamas printed with candy canes and well-worn second-hand boots.

The short walk to the corner store felt longer than usual, the biting cold making you clutch your threadbare coat tighter. Your teeth chattered in protest as you entered, and the rush of warm air was a momentary relief against the chill. Fingers numb, you mindlessly reached for familiar comfort snacks—chips, chocolate milk, anything to dull the ache.

A hand much larger than yours beat you to the last packet of croissants.

“Ah, sorry.” You let it go. “All yours—” You choked as you looked up, and up, at Nanami staring at you wide-eyed, his hazel eyes flickering at a rapid speed as if he were hallucinating your presence. Your face flushed with embarrassment, and the weight of the past five days crammed upon you—his uncanny prediction, your own naivety, and the sting of being swindled. “Mr. Nanami . . . ”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in—”

“Good night.”

With a dismissive shake of your head, you left the basket on the counter, mumbled a quick apology, and retreated back into the biting cold.

You’ve faced tons of humiliating moments—slipping in front of customers, your purse strap getting snagged in a door and dragging you back, and that one unforgettable instance when a little boy labeled your eyebrows as caterpillars in front of a line of onlookers. Yet, none of those incidents could hold a candle to the awkwardness of bumping into the very man who had warned you about the ill-fated choice of paying for a stranger's trip—stranger now—when it was supposed to be your trip.

You felt a firm grip on your wrist, making your restless pacing suddenly stop.

Startled, you turned around to find a pair of expressionless hazel eyes and a slightly out-of-breath figure. Now is not the time to ogle Mr. Nanami’s broad shoulders, you idiot!

Releasing your wrist, he handed over a white, plastic bag. With a raised eyebrow, you peered inside to inspect its contents. It held everything from your shopping basket, including the last packet of croissants. Even more unexpected, he had paid for it all.

“I’ll pay you back tomorrow,” you assured, your eyes already scanning for the nearest ATM, just in case you forgot. "But for now." You pulled out the packaged croissants and extended them toward him. Your body was shaking, not because of November but because of how you were scammed after being forewarned by Nanami. “Please. Take it.”

He took your small hand in both of his, the warmth immediately melting the tension in your body. “So cold.”

A soft giggle escaped you at the obvious observation, and you placed your free hand on top of his. "So warm." Sniffling, tears welled up in your eyes. "You know what else is warm? The sun. And it's yellow. It's so yellow."

“Factually speaking, it is white.”

You wiped an arm across your nose. “What?”

“The sun. It’s white. It’s only yellow in children's books.”

You weren't about to argue with the guy who vindicated your slip-ups. Still, given the circumstances, you wished he'd soften the bluntness and let you bask in the illusion that the sun was a simple shade of yellow.

"I've always loved the color yellow," you mumbled. "Maybe getting scammed was a blessing. I'd probably get fined for wearing yellow otherwise. I couldn't afford to mess up on my trip. Besides, it all depends on the shade, right? Imagine how many fines I'd rack up just testing which shade of yellow suits me—"

Nanami tugged you close, capturing your lips with his.

A sharp intake of breath filled your lungs, eyes widening in surprise. Instinctively, your hands pushed him away, fingers grazing your tingling lips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. Don’t—Don’t worry. About it.” You tucked your lips in and tasted chocolate and mint—two of your favorite combinations. Nanami always seemed like the kind of man who would hate both flavors independently and dependently. “You’re okay. I mean—You’re okay in general. You’re not okay with kissing. You’re probably great, I’m sure.” Your tongue traced the curve of your lower lip, and Nanami’s eyes followed the motion. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”

You walked up to him, grabbed the lapels of his coat, and tugged him down a notch, your lips colliding with his.

Nanami's touch was calculated, his hand sailing onto your cheek, feeding warmth to your cold ear before vanishing into the labyrinth of your hair. Simultaneously, the other serpentined to the small of your back, his magnetic energy drawing you snugly against his chest. His warm tongue delicately swept across your lower lip, an unspoken cue that encouraged you to part your lips in response.

Nanami deepened the kiss, your tongues stroking against one another feverishly as if it were your last kiss. Who knows? Maybe it could’ve been. But the way he kissed with such desperation, releasing soft moans, not allowing you a moment to catch your breath, made you think that maybe this was just the start.

And you kissed him back just as needy.

If your hands slightly released their hold on his lapels, you'd gently cup the sides of his neck, rising on your tiptoes. And if your calves protested, you'd draw him down, wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers entwining in his pale, golden locks. The taste of mint chocolate lingered on your lips, and a smile curved on your mouth as he stole a quick peck, pulling back just to gaze into your eyes for a moment before kissing you again.

You’re not sure how long you two stood and kissed there. Nanami was the one who always took the lead, savoring the taste of your pink, tender tongue, kissing your chilly cheeks and dewy eyes. The desire for each other made it hard to break away, yet the need for a breath of air was undeniable.

Finally, you decided to be the one to step back, signalling the end of your first kiss with him.

Your bottom lip tingled as you pulled it in, jaw aching from the infectious smile that had taken over your face. You couldn't help stealing glances at the tall man before you, who returned your gaze with a soft, almost imperceptible grin. Yet, in his eyes, under the gentle glow of the streetlight, you could see the excitement and joy of kissing you, twinkling brightly.

“I'm gonna—”

“I should—”

Both of you sighed; you with a soft chuckle, and him with a discreet throat-clearing.

“I've already missed quite a few workdays,” you said. “Gotta earn that dough if I want to make next month’s rent.” Nanami didn’t quite catch your bakery pun, but he nodded in agreement.

“Right,” you murmured, subtly veering to the side, putting on a little show as you started to walk away. You admitted it—you were a hopeless romantic. You secretly hoped for him to steal a kiss on your cheek and watch until you safely disappeared around the corner. “I’m off now.”

“Goodnight,” Nanami replied, subtly licking his lips for the sixteenth time. Yes, you were keeping count.

“Night-night.”

Nanami strolled down his end of the sidewalk. You followed suit, turning down your street.

Luck had only sometimes been on your side when it came to men and their romantic gestures. Oh well. At least you experienced a passionate kiss from one of your favorite customers. Asking for more seemed a bit too much—

A hand gently pressed against your back, and as you turned, it gracefully curved around your waist, drawing you in. Nanami caught your gasp and kissed you with an urgency that doubled, holding onto you as if his life depended on it, lifting you off your toes. Three sweet pecks later, he released you, both of your faces flushed.

"Get home safely," he whispered, walking away without a second glance.

That night, you couldn't help but giggle into your mascara-stained pillow.

The morning after, you were a whirlwind of joy and light, twirling through the bakery with trays of freshly baked pastries, replenishing boxes and take-out essentials. You greeted customers with an extra dose of sweetness, and to top it off, you even handed out a tray of delectable chocolate jam cookies. And you wore a yellow bow in your hair.

The oven beeped as the casse-croûtes finished baking, signaling their readiness for Nanami's arrival in just five minutes. You took special care in preparing his milk coffee, indulging in a quiet chuckle at your undeniable favoritism. Though the neighborhood bakery wasn't bustling with a large customer base, your attention was solely dedicated to him—your only regular as everyone else buzzed in the distant city an hour away.

With his coffee prepared and two casse-croûtes packed, you added a chocolate-mint cookie to the bag. Then, you decided to rearrange the shelves of gift baskets to pass the time.

Setting up the ladder, you ascended the shaky steps until you were eye to eye with the fifth shelf. Heights were never your forte, which, in hindsight, was another reason why flying to Malaysia was out of the question. The more you thought about being scammed, the more your heart wrenched from your lost trip. You’d again brought out your tip jar and prayed the odds were in your favor. Hell, maybe you’d ask Nanami to join you if you decided to take your relationship to the next level.

As you secured the bow on the basket, your gaze landed on the clock—6:30 p.m., and Nanami was a no-show.

Anxiety surged through you in an instant.

Did he leave you hanging? Maybe that kiss was a turnoff, and he chose to disappear rather than be upfront about finding you too overwhelming. Did your breath smell bad? Were you a terrible kisser? Or, worse, did something happen to him?

A torrent of worries flooded your mind, breaking through like a burst dam. Each imagined scenario seemed more nightmarish than the last, causing your head to spin. Recent events, like Toji's betrayal, fueled this self-doubt, made you question your intuition. While Nanami was clearly wealthy, consistently tipping a twenty each day, you found yourself questioning whether he had plans to use you for something else. As if that weren't enough, doubts crept in about your appearance and your optimistic, extroverted personality.

It started to make sense, didn't it? Nanami led a tranquil life, sticking to a routine of work and home, while you were a whirlwind of spontaneity—constantly buzzing with new ideas and discussions, unable to sit still or resist laughter at the silliest jokes. Everything seemed to fascinate you, yet nothing appeared to faze him. How could you have been so naive to entertain the thought—

“Good evening.”

“Ah!” you yelped at the sudden baritone intruding into your thoughts. Your foot, betrayed by the unexpected intrusion, lost its balance on the step. Your arms flailed in a desperate attempt to find stability as you teetered backward, the impending hazard of a severe concussion and potential spinal cord injury looming.

But just as you were prepared to shake hands with God, Nanami's powerful arms swooped in at the last possible moment. With a secure hold, he cradled you in a bridal style, and you clung to him like a shaking puppy, arms looped around his neck.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his breath slightly labored.

You gingerly peeled one eye open to peek at him. His expression was one of calm disorientation; eyebrows knit together while his lips maintained a straight, tight line.

"Yes," you whispered, soothed by his timely intervention.

Nanami steadied you back onto your feet but maintained a firm grip on your elbows. “Look at me.” As you did, he inspected each eye closely while keeping his hand steady on your left cheek. He checked below your jaw, down to your dusty palms, which he cleaned with his silk handkerchief. He also patted down your tousled hair. "Are you sure you're okay?"

“Mm-hmm.” You could cry from how gentle he was with you. “A-Are you okay?”

“I am now.” He took a composed breath and effortlessly retrieved his suitcase from the floor, brushing off invisible dust. “I apologize for being late. My . . . car broke down.”

"What? Oh my god! Do you need me to give you my mechanic's number? I promise he's not as bad as the Google reviews say. He's actually quite a sweet man. And he gives me a friends and family discount because my father was close with him." You beamed, and Nanami squinted his eyes as if the brightness of your smile momentarily blinded him, but he tried his best to reciprocate.

“Do your parents live here?”

You shook your head. “They passed away a while ago.”

“I apologize.”

"Don't be." You quickly switched subjects by fluttering towards the counter to pick up his items. “Tell me how your coffee tastes.” You turned around, adding, “I switched to a new brand of milk—”

Nanami pressed his lips against yours, momentarily freezing you. His seamless transition afterward could have fooled an onlooker into thinking you'd been married for years. "Thank you.” He took a sip and nodded thoughtfully. “It’s great. Everything you make is great.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, sudden shyness enveloping you. From the kiss? The compliment? Him? You didn’t know at all. “Do you still need me to give you the mechanic’s number?”

“It’s all right. I had it fixed. Minor battery issue, that’s all.”

“Ah, okay. See, that’s why I prefer to walk.”

Nanami glanced elsewhere, nodding. “Then, would you like to walk with me after you’ve closed?”

“Oh.” A subtle flicker of surprise crossed your features. Nonchalantly, you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear before smiling warmly. “Of course, yes. I’d love to go on a walk with you. Where are we going? There are lots of cafés in a nearby shopping district. I know all the best places to take you to.” A grave thought struck you just then. “Oh, actually. Hmm.”

Curious, he tilted his head down, meeting your worried gaze. "What is it?"

"Well," you began, your thoughts taking a cautious turn, "you probably have a set time to be home unless you live nearby. In that case, we could spend the entire evening strolling around. Only if you're interested, of course."

Nanami’s lips twitched. “I live nearby.”

“Where?” You weren’t ashamed to have been so upfront. It was more of a precautionary measure.

And he didn't seem bothered, quickly revealing the familiar neighborhood you instantly recognized. It was a fifteen-minute walk from your own place.

"May I step out momentarily to make a call?" Nanami asked, pulling out his phone. It was the latest model you noticed—one that came out last week and mocked your own that was five versions older. “It will be quick.”

“By all means.” You had to fix your hair and make-up anyway.

Nanami nodded and exited the shop, leaving you to flee behind the counter. As you crouched down to check yourself in the small mirror tucked away in the lower drawer, you couldn't help but feel a warmth on your face from the unexpected collapse, the sweet, brief kiss, and his impeccable navy blue suit decorated with yellow cufflinks. Maybe a café was too casual for him; a restaurant might have been a more suitable choice. An expensive choice. However, you were adamant about not letting Nanami cover the entire cost.

Upon his return, five minutes later, you both settled at one of the three round tables in your bakery (he even pulled out your chair for you). Sipping on your coffees and enjoying the casse-croûtes and chocolate pastries, the conversation seemed somewhat one-sided. Yet, Nanami's aloof demeanor never made you feel inferior for dominating the dialogue. He listened to every word and vowel with his undivided attention, nodding alongside and adding in short sentences when he could relate to your childhood shenanigans.

"Wait," he interrupted, causing you to halt in your tracks. The sun cast a warm glow on his face, making his eyes narrow into slits, but God did he look handsome. He extended his hand and brushed a thumb near your lips, discovering a small chocolate smudge. Swiftly, he licked it clean and tidied up the area around your lips with a napkin. "Beautiful."

“What?”

Nanami was a deer in headlights. He sunk his head, beating himself up from murmuring his thoughts aloud—at least, that’s what you concluded. "You look beautiful," he declared with more assurance, his gaze on your face. "You are beautiful, Y/N."

Oh, my.

Your heart was going to claw itself out of your chest. You could cook an egg on your face from how heated it had gotten. In fact, you were burning hotter than the sun, which continuously made him squint and blink. “Thank you.”

He nodded twice, finishing the remnants of his coffee. Rising, he disposed of the cups and wrappers in the garbage bin, then extended a hand to help you stand. "I'll wait outside while you close up."

At a lightning pace, you ensured that everything in the bakery was safely unplugged and shut off. Grabbing your purse, you gave yourself a quick once-over in the mirror, adjusting your face and hair. Stepping outside, you meticulously locked the door and gates.

Without a word, Nanami entwined his fingers with yours, causing you to smile like an idiot at him. He maintained a straight, vigilant gaze, seemingly unresponsive as you wrapped yourself around his arm. A subtle smirk tugged at your lips when you felt his muscles flex.

You walked for hours, café-hopping and trying pastries, baked goods, and sweet drinks. Every time Nanami attempted to cover the expenses with his cash, you scolded him, insisting that since you had suggested the place, you should be the one to pay. It was a rule you had read about online, and all your friends stuck to it religiously. The thought of Nanami spending his hard-earned money on your interests made you feel incredibly guilty.

As a matter of fact, you were feeling guilty about tons of things. He told you he worked at an investment firm, which meant it was a nine-to-five, likely sporting a migraine he kept hidden, and now he was being dragged around the shopping district by you, forced to listen to you because he was a man who didn’t complain, wouldn’t complain, and long, story short, you wanted to die.

“Kento,” you muttered, removing your hand from his, goosebumps rippling on your skin.

“Yes, darling?”

Your chest felt like it was being clenched in a fist. “I'm . . . I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For making you do all this. For making you pay for everything. For dragging you around when you're probably on the verge of exhaustion." Avoiding his gaze, you fixed your eyes on the concrete beneath you. “I know I can be too much sometimes—well, all the time.” A self-deprecating chuckle escaped your lips. "Exes in my past relationships have made it clear. I get overly excited easily, crave attention like one needs oxygen, trust people too easily to the point of getting scammed, and, well, I don't bring anything particularly special to the table. I'm sorry, Kento. Maybe it's best if we just stay friends?”

Nanami’s soft fingers lifted your chin up. Your words absolutely shattered his face, leaving you to feel worse than before. His lips were parted into a frown, his brows were scrunched up, brown irises flickering like he couldn’t believe you said that. This was the most reaction he had given you in the year that you’ve known him.

“No,” he said.

You blinked the tears gathered at your waterline. “No?”

“No.” Nanami took a calming breath, closing his eyes. His forehead gently pressed against yours. “Please, let me be selfish for this once. For you. I can’t let you go—I won’t let you go."

"Kento—"

"I want to do this, Y/N. I want to pay for everything. I want you to drag me around because I’ll never be too tired for you.” Nanami drew back and cradled your sobbing face in his large hands. “I know I fail to show it, darling, but I love your excitement. I love paying attention to every detail of you because you’ve become my oxygen source. You’re a good, kindhearted woman, and anyone would be lucky to be seen by you. And you don’t have to bring anything to the table because there isn’t one dividing us, keeping us lengths apart.” His lips brushed your forehead, imprinting his words into your mind. "I want us to be more than just friends. I want us to be best friends. Lovers. In this life and the ones that follow."

You could explode.

Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, seeking support as if the ground beneath you was about to crumble. Yet, you knew he would catch you, just as before. He was so real, embracing you wholly, both of you breathing in each other's scents to confirm a human like this could exist. How grateful you were he stumbled into your bakery that one rainy night, and how grateful he was that you offered him free coffee and a casse-croûte while he was freezing and trembling. His presence brought life to your bakery, gave you something to look forward to when you were at your lowest, and you gave him . . . everything. You were his everything since the first day.

As the shared silence lingered, Nanami's phone shattered the moment, its noisy ring cutting through the haze. You instinctively stepped back, but he clung to your hand as if afraid you might slip away.

Never, Nanami Kento. You’re stuck with me.

When he took out his phone, you caught a glimpse of the contact name: Satoru (assistant).

Before you could process the fact Nanami had an assistant, he swiped right. “Yeah?”

The voice on the other end resonated with loud cheerfulness in the quiet alleyway. Nanami half-rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Very well. Leave it there. I’ll be there when I want to.”

The assistant chuckled and sang his goodbye, the cheerful tone abruptly cutting off as Nanami ended the call and slid his phone back into his pocket.

“Do all stockbrokers have assistants?”

He tilted his head. “I’m not a stockbroker.”

“Oh? I’m sorry. I assumed because you worked at an investment firm.”

“Yes, I was a stockbroker.” He nodded, warming your hand in his, then casually added, “But I own a firm now.”

Your brows hit your hairline. “That’s amazing!”

“Thank you. We have several locations around the country. Kento Investments. Have you heard of it?”

Heard of it? You were a client some time ago when you were starting your bakery. All you encountered were glowing reviews about their ethical practices, a refreshing leave from the scheming ways of most investment firms that had previously taken advantage of you. It stood out as the industry leader in your research, and the team was lovely in guiding you through the process, so much so that you even invited them to your grand opening.

"Ah, you have." Nanami grinned, gently tilting your chin upward and closing your gaping mouth. "Therefore, my darling, don't feel guilty about me covering the expenses. I'm quite secure in my position to support both of us for centuries."

All you could manage was a disbelieving chuckle as you rested your forehead against his chest. Taking it as an invitation, he embraced you, crowning you with kisses.

Lifting your head, you said, "There's something I want to get for you."

"What is it?"

Hand-in-hand, you pulled him back toward the bustling district, the sound of his deep laughter echoing in the air. Your own laughter naturally joined in.

As you strolled past a vendor selling accessories, your attention was drawn to an item you had briefly noticed earlier in your walk. Although you planned to purchase it the following day and surprise him in the afternoon, tonight felt like the perfect moment.

Politely approaching the elderly vendor, you asked, "Could I please try those on?" He handed you a pair of round sunglasses with a green tint to the lenses. Standing on your toes, you carefully placed the glasses on Nanami's nose, adjusting them to sit perfectly on the bridge. The sides of the spectacles featured a stylish steampunk design that complemented his narrow, sharp features. "Handsome.”

"I'll take it.” Nanami reached for his wallet. However, you were one step ahead, swiftly bringing out the spare change you had set aside in your coat pocket. You had already calculated the price, ready to outsmart him in this little game of charity.

“Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you said to the shop vendor, ignoring Nanami’s stare.

“Y/N.”

“Yes, darling?" You looped around his arm and began your stroll down the sidewalk. “Oh, come on. Let me be selfish and treat you once in a while.” You cut off his protests with a kiss.

He surrendered instantly.

Over the next four weeks, you didn’t realize how quickly you’d become comfortable with Nanami. Like clockwork, he would arrive at your bakery, patiently occupying a table until your duties with customers or decorating displays finished. Now resembling a vibrant florist shop, the bakery owed its transformation to Nanami's thoughtful gestures—bouquets of flowers in every shade of yellow, orange, and white became an amusing routine. As you arranged them in vases, you would burst into fits of giggles like a maniac.

You and him were like a Venn diagram, overlapping in unexpected places. He enjoyed non-fiction, classics, and history books; you immersed yourself in the world of romance and mystery novels. TV nights were a compromise between his love for documentaries and your penchant for anything sappy on Netflix, occasionally spicing things up with a true-crime documentary. His fascination with astronomy met your fixation with astrology, and surprisingly, he didn't scoff when you read the lines on his palms. Instead, he appreciated it just as much as you cherished his nightly photos of the moon and his ability to name the stars above.

At least, you were both Team Cats.

Nanami introduced you to his friends, including his quirky assistant Gojo, who had a habit of shamelessly flirting with you, seemingly just to get under Nanami's skin. However, your boyfriend was secure enough not to let it bother him. Yet, a trace of possessiveness would emerge during sex—when the two of you were entwined in bed, bodies bared and bathed in the aftermath of shared sweat.

Exiting the restaurant after a delightful dinner date, Nanami turned to you and suggested, "I'd like to invite you to my home tonight."

Finally, you thought, resisting the urge to dip your toes into the topic of visiting his home, especially considering he had been a frequent guest at yours.

The fact that he lived nearby had always puzzled you; he mentioned it casually yet never extended an invitation for a simple coffee or a chat on his welcome mat. Weekends saw him working from your living room, staying overnight, but on weekdays, he'd only spend a brief hour or two with you before heading home, a practice that seemed counterintuitive given his closeness. Despite the confusion, you hesitated to jeopardize your relationship by fishing too deeply.

So far, Nanami hadn't given you any reason to doubt him.

"Are you sure?" you asked cautiously.

"Absolutely, darling.” Nanami took your hand and planted a small kiss on the back of it. "I apologize for the delay. I've been having it . . ." He casually flicked up his sunglasses that had slipped. ". . . renovated."

“Oh, I see. Well, in that case, I’d love to!”

Nanami nodded and leaned down to kiss your cheek. “Thank you for being so patient. I know it was eating you alive. You're not exactly the master of hiding your emotions.” He gave you a small smile and kissed your cheek again.

You responded with a smile that crinkled your nose. "Just a bit anxious, that's all."

"Understandable.” He guided you toward his neighbourhood, exchanging a warm smile as you nestled against his arm. Observing the goosebumps on your skin and the faint shivers, he realized you had forgotten your cardigan. Without hesitation, he removed his blazer and draped it around your shoulders, helping you slip your arms through the sleeves and buttoning it up.

You took a deep breath, inhaling the pleasant scent from the collars. "You always smell so good."

Nanami bent down, kissing the side of your neck right above your racing pulse. "As do you," he murmured against your skin. "Always."

“Gosh, you're so flirty,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his midsection and burying your face in his chest.

“Come on now.”

You walked for another ten minutes, taking a five-minute pit stop to pet a stray cat before stopping in front of a towering residence building. It was one of those extravagant ones boasting a fountain in the lobby and a vigilant security guard who greeted Nanami with a two-finger salute.

Hand on your back, Nanami guided you toward the elevator with mirrors on all sides.

He exuded an air of sophistication in his neatly rolled-up black dress shirt, complemented by beige pants. His pale, blond hair was slicked back, a Rolex clasped his wrist, and veins corded his well-defined forearms. The sunglasses you had given him rested atop his head.

As Nanami caught your eyes on the reflective surfaces, a sudden blush warmed your cheeks. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” you whispered, fingers idly playing with the golden butterfly bracelet he had given you on the night he asked you to be his girlfriend. “I was just . . . God, you’re so beautiful. Sometimes, I think I’m dreaming of you. And I don’t want to wake up from it.”

Nanami released his grip on your hand, wrapping his arm around your waist. He tilted your chin upward and planted a lecherous kiss on your lips. As you stumbled backward, your back met the cool surface of a mirror, and you clung to his biceps. He continued kissing your jaw and nibbling at your neck.

“Ken—Wait, there’s a camera!”

“I own the building.”

Without allowing you to react, he kissed you fervently, his hands framing your face and his knee pressing between your legs. Your hips ground against the muscled surface, creating a heated friction that drew a moan from him.

The elevator dinged, signaling its arrival, but Nanami was undeterred. He refused to break the kiss. Lifting you effortlessly, he cradled you with a single forearm beneath your backside and your arms encircling his neck. Laughter echoed as you entered directly into the main corridor of his penthouse.

“Your front door is an elevator?” You marveled with an open jaw.

“Yes, it seems so.”

Oh, how you loved his monotonous replies.

Nanami gently placed you onto the expansive white surface of his couch, smoothly moving over your body to continue.

“I knew you were a clean freak,” you said between his kisses, “but your penthouse looks like it was bought this morning.”

“Two weeks ago.” He kisses down your neck, sideways toward your left shoulder. “That’s why I waited to invite you. Gojo was having the place decorated. I've installed a library for you, too. We can go book-shopping this weekend.”

"Wait, what?" You pushed him back by his chest, incredulous. "Hold on, hold on, hold on. You mean to tell me you moved in just two weeks ago?"

"Yes," he answered, tilting his head slightly perplexedly. "When you asked about my residence, I panicked and couldn't come up with a proper answer, fearing you might decline my invitation for a walk. So, I bought this building from the previous owner on the spot. There are also commercial benefits. Quite a strategic move, if you ask me." With that, Nanami resumed his attention, focusing on kissing your collarbones and skillfully lowering your dress, exposing your chest to him.

But you were still stuck on the subject like a pesky fruit fly. “But you don’t live here?”

“I don’t.” His mouth brushed over the mound of your left breast. “I live in Shibuya.”

“Shibuya? Kento, that’s an hour and a half away!"

"Hmm." He glanced up, mouth sucking at your nipple.

"You've been faithfully coming to my city every single day, all the way from Shibuya, for a whole year? You've been burning all that gas just to be with me?"

He broke away to say, "Gojo drives me occasionally," and switched to your right breast.

"Nanami Kento, are you out of your mind?"

Finally, he released you and sighed. "I fail to see the issue here." He appeared so innocent, with his moist lips, tousled hair, and a crumpled dress shirt.

You hurriedly sat up, readjusting your dress, which seemed to displease him. "I'm at a loss for words." Your gaze caught the weariness etched on his face, the bags under his eyes, the slow, heavy blinks signaling his desperate need for sleep. "You haven't actually been living here, have you?"

Upon hearing that, Nanami let out a weary sigh. "I do it when I'm too drained to make the drive back on weekdays."

As the details of his schedule fell into place, you flinched inwardly. He would rise at the crack of dawn, dedicate endless hours to handling clients at the office, and then endure a lengthy drive to your city, only to spend his evenings with you before leaving around midnight to return to Shibuya. The only time he would stay overnight at your place was on Saturdays, and he would depart early on Sundays for work. And all this time, you had believed he had an office in your city.

Oh, God.

You loved him.

You loved him so much.

Tears welled up in your eyes at the realization of just how much he loved you. The man had gone so far as to purchase an entire building in your city just to be closer to you. He showered you with affection at every opportunity, devoted his alone time to you with undivided attention and mind-blowing orgasms, and his bank transactions were probably dedicated to you.

“I don’t deserve your kindness,” you whispered.

“Neither did I the night when we met.” Nanami’s words always had a comforting effect on you. He gently pulled you onto his lap, and you curled up like a fetus, planting a kiss on his cheekbone. “I’ve loved you for a very long time, Y/N. I love . . . God, I love you so much. I didn't realize I was capable of feeling this much love for another human until I met you. It was all locked up inside me, and you held the key all along, darling." Leaning forward, he smoothly swept his blazer and delved into the pocket, revealing a small yellow box. With trembling hands, you accepted it and opened it to find a petite, golden key inside. “Our front door is an elevator.”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

“Move in with me.”

“Kento—”

“I know. I know it's quite early to discuss this, and I want to give you the space and time to consider it. As you mentioned, your lease ends next month, and I'll officially be transitioning to remote work with a few business trips every other week. It would mean a lot to me if you decided to join me on those trips." He gently placed the key in your hand, kissing your fist. "I'm scheduled to travel to Malaysia next month."

Overpowered with emotion, you choked out a sob and immediately lunged at him with a hug, causing both of you to stumble backward as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He loved you. He wanted you to move in with him. He wanted to travel with you, starting with Malaysia. Suddenly, the tips he left in your jar took on a deeper significance, backing the idea that you weren't meant to journey alone, why you weren’t meant to go with that swindling bastard. As Nanami's gestures of kindness and service became increasingly evident, your tears welled up, choking him in a tight embrace that eventually had him laughing.

Last November, Nanami Kento had stepped into your small bakery, raindrops clinging to him, unknowingly marking his permanent presence in your life.

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surftrips · 4 months

Text

ABOUT YOU | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

request: luke x reader fluff w like an aphrodite!reader? reader is all sunshine and flowers and makes luke all soft/campers teasing luke abt the way reader changed him 🤭

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is probably my favorite luke fic that i've written so far thank u so much anon for sending this request in! writing aphrodite!reader is so much fun, i'm such a sucker for the opposites trope. hope you all enjoy 🤍

You were the human embodiment of sunshine, a real life angel. Gentle, kind, and lovely— in other words, the complete and total opposite of Luke Castellan. He was dark and broody, strong and rough, and not totally unfriendly, but definitely intimidating.

But even if you weren’t the daughter of Aphrodite, Luke believed that you would still be just as beautiful. There was something in the way you carried yourself that had made his heart surrender the second he laid eyes on you. You became the one and only exception in his long list of grievances.

So it came as no surprise to anyone at camp when the two of you started dating, just to the dismay of many of your admirers and a few of Luke’s as well. If there was one thing you had in common, it was your beauty. With his puppy dog eyes and curly brown hair, Luke was a sight for sore eyes, almost as much as you were.

One day, you were walking hand in hand when one of the younger campers accidentally bumped into Luke. On any other occasion, Luke might have started an altercation, but today, he simply smiled and said, “Just be careful next time.” The camper stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked into place as you softly giggled.

“What?” he smiled, looking over at you as the kid took it as an opportunity to run away.

“Nothing,” you mused. “Just that I think you’re getting soft, Luke Castellan.” You poked a finger at his chest playfully.

“What?” he shook his head. “No, I’m not.”

Though he attempts to keep a serious face, you could see the amusement in his eyes. He often looked at you like this, ready to go along with anything you said— no matter how silly or whimsical your remarks.

“Okay, lover boy. Whatever you say,” you shrugged, offering him a kiss on his cheek that instantly causes color to rush into his face. Ignoring that he’s just proven your point, he attempts to hide his expression by seeking solace in the crook of your neck. He would never admit it to anyone, but he often thought his favorite place at camp was the spot in between your jaw and collarbone.

Even though most of the campers were still a little frightened by the idea of approaching Luke, his closest friends were not afraid to speak their minds.

“Dude, you’re like, totally whipped for her,” Percy remarked over lunch once.

“And you’re like, totally fourteen years old,” Luke said.

“I think the fourteen year old’s right,” Chris jumped in.

“Dude! I thought you were supposed to have my back,” Luke throws up his arms in mock aggravation.

The two boys snickered, causing Luke to speak up again. “I am not whipped for Y/N.”

“Oh, sure,” Chris began. “So the reason you’re practically skipping around camp and letting whatever team Aphrodite cabin is in win Capture the Flag is because…?”

“Oh, and don’t forget the constant checking his phone to see if she texted back and sharing his blanket with her at the campfire!” Percy pointed out. “Meanwhile, I’m over here freezing…”

“Maybe,” Luke scrambled to come up with an answer. “Maybe, I was just in a really good mood those days. It could have absolutely nothing to do with Y/N.”

He barely believed the words himself, and Chris and Percy were certainly not convinced. Luke wasn’t even sure why he felt the need to defend himself.

“Dude, it’s okay if you are, she’s literally your girlfriend,” Chris said.

“Hey! I have an idea, let’s ask Annabeth!” Percy declared.

“Annabeth? Why her?” Luke furrowed his brow.

“Because, she’s a girl. And she’s known you the longest, she can give us a real answer,” Percy said matter-of-factly.

Luke thought it over. The young boy was technically right, Annabeth was like a little sister to him. If anyone could tell if he had changed since dating you, it would be her. This came as both a good and bad realization to him, because what if he had changed? Gods, was it that obvious?

Before he could agree to asking Annabeth, the young girl was already at their table. Percy must have called her over while Luke was thinking.

“What’s up?” she asked, sitting down across from him with her plate of food.

“Oh, nothing, just talking about how soft Luke has gotten since he started dating Y/N,” Chris explained with a grin on his face.

“Oh?” Annabeth said, seemingly amused.

“Yeah, we actually wanted to get your opinion,” Percy continued. “Would you say you agree or disagree, that you know, Luke is nicer now that he’s with Y/N?”

Annabeth seemed to think it over for a second. “Gods, you guys are such children,” she scoffed.

“Thank you!” Luke cut in.

“I mean, all of you,” she looked at Luke pointedly. “Why do you care what a bunch of kids think about you anyway? And not that it matters, but you, Castellan, are most definitely whipped for Y/N.”

That shut Luke up immediately, and caused cheers to erupt from Chris and Percy, who were clapping each other on their backs as if they had just won Capture the Flag.

Annabeth smiled and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say “Sorry, Luke. It’s true.”

Later that night, Luke snuck over to the Aphrodite Cabin to find you. You were surprised when Luke woke you up, it had been a while since he came seeking your comfort in the middle of the night. He used to have bad nightmares, but you noticed he had gotten better since you started dating. You’d like to think it was because of you, but perhaps that would be thinking too highly of yourself.

In an effort to clear his mind, you suggested to go on a walk together. He agreed, and you climbed out of bed as quietly as you could.

You allowed him a few minutes of silence until his heavy breathing had slowed down and his grip on your hand had loosened.

“What’s on your mind, hon?” you asked softly.

Luke didn’t respond at first, distracting himself by tracing the lines on the palm of your hand. You were happy to give him as much time as he needed, placing your other hand on his back and gently drawing circles.

After a while, he did speak up. “Uhm, do you think that I’m, like, unapproachable?”

Your heart sank and you stopped in your tracks. “What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know, it’s just something that’s been on my mind recently.”

“Luke, is this about what I said to you the other day? Because I didn’t mean it like that—”

“No, baby,” he rushed. The last thing he wanted was for you to think you had done something wrong. He wasn’t sure that you could ever do wrong, not in his eyes. “I was just talking to Percy and Chris at lunch today and they were kind of teasing me.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of your boyfriend, Mr. Tough Guy, being teased by a few kids younger than him. “I’m sorry, babe. Continue,” you placed a supportive hand on his chest as you regained your composure.

“They said that I’ve changed since we started dating.”

Though you were an expert in human emotion, there were still times you couldn’t read the expression on Luke’s face. You couldn’t tell if he thought of this as a bad thing, or if he was just curious to see what you thought. You decided on the latter. “Changed how so?”

“They think I’m soft now because I’m always in a good mood and stuff…” he trailed off. Even now, in the dark of the night, you could tell he was blushing.

“Well,” you started, trying to find the right words. “You know, I was just teasing you the other day, babe. I think you’ve always been this way.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I think you’ve always been a giant teddy bear,” you grinned, unable to contain yourself. “Luke, you’re not as bad as everyone thinks you are.”

By now, both of you had stopped walking. Ever since Luke arrived at camp, he had been characterized as the tough, stony, and slightly antagonistic guy. All because of a scar he carried and the stories of what he had gone through with Annabeth and Thalia. Many people were still intimidated by him, despite his position as the counselor in Hermes and his job to welcome newcomers. It had been so long, he wasn’t sure if this was the way he was, or the way that he was made to be.

As if reading his thoughts, you said, “You don’t have to be what they tell you to be. Do you know the words I use to describe you when someone asks me about you?”

Unable to speak, Luke simply shook his head.

“Gentle, kind, and lovely.”

Luke wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but certainly nothing close to the words you had chosen. “You do not,” he objected.

“I'm serious, baby,” you placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him in until your foreheads were touching. “I think you’re the most wonderful and caring guy I’ve ever met. I think you always have been, you just don’t always show it.”

He stared at you intently before pulling a loose strand of hair out of your face. You kissed the top of his head, “I must be one lucky girl.”

“Hey, if there’s one thing I’m sure about, it’s that I’m the lucky one,” he said, before pulling you in for a kiss.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson series #percy jackson #pjo #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson x reader #pjo x you #luke castellan x you

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headkiss · 8 months

Note

I LOVE the idea of protective Hotch constantly having an eye out for younger bau!agent who’s literally sunshine personified and the complete opposite of him!! Do u think u could write something along the lines of that—maybe him protecting her from something or just their dynamic?

i also love protective hotch!!! tysm for the request i hope u like it baby :D | 1k of fluff, tw for a small burn!

You’d been surprised when you got a job at the BAU. You didn’t have that much faith in yourself at first. Not to say you don’t believe in your skills, but it’s a widely known part of the bureau. A lot of people wanted the job.

And then, there’s Agent Hotchner, unit chief and intimidating though you’re sure he doesn’t mean to be. You were insanely nervous at the beginning.

That was before you started, before the team welcomed you as the new media liaison after Agent Jareau became a profiler. You met Garcia and her collection of fun high heels, Reid and his never ending supply of facts, and you sort of fit right in.

Hotch became much less intimidating. A kind man who cares so deeply for his team that you couldn’t help but like him the way you do. Not to mention the dynamic that built between the two of you.

The small things he does for you that are impossible to ignore. A hand covering the edge of your desk to protect your head when you were searching underneath it for a dropped paper clip, the way he physically places himself between you and danger if he ever gets the chance.

He’s always there, protecting you in ways both big and little, and you enjoy it more than you should.

It’s even brighter on nights like tonight. Drinks and snacks at Penelope’s after a tough case. Nights when you get to call him Aaron instead of Hotch, when he smiles and laughs freely without restraint.

The beep of the oven cuts off yours and Garcia’s conversation, and when she shifts to take care of it, you stop her, “I got it! You’re already hosting, just relax a little.”

“Thank you,” she smiles, squeezing your arm as you walk by.

The smell of food in the oven hits your nose as you walk into the kitchen, humming along to whatever song spills through the speakers.

You pull the oven open, reaching in without thinking and touching the pan with your bare hand. You drop it quickly, metal clanking as it falls back onto the rack in the oven.

“Shit!” You say it loudly, and then, even louder, addressing the team in the next room, “I’m okay!”

They all laugh a little at your reassurance, and then, like they know he wouldn’t let anyone else check on you before him, pretty much every set of eyes in the room lands on Hotch.

He shakes his head and heads to the kitchen, because he would’ve gone either way.

“You okay?” He asks, finding you with an oven mitt on your non-burnt hand, reaching into the oven, and your burnt hand shaking by your side.

“Oh!” You set the pan of nachos on top of the stove and slip off the mitt, turning off the oven and looking at Hotch. “I forgot oven mitts were a thing for a second there. Burnt my hand, I think.”

He’s on you in a second, his hands gently grasping your injured arm, pushing back your sleeve and guiding you over to the sink. His hold is light, never bruising even though you know he has the strength to do so.

It’s the kiss of sunlight on skin.

Aaron turns on the sink, places his fingers under the water to make sure the temperature’s okay before guiding your hand under the stream.

“You still took out the nachos first?” He asks, even when he knows that’s what you’d do, because of course you’re worrying about everyone else before yourself.

“I didn’t want them to burn.”

You’re trying to be brave, though your hand hurts so much there are tears misting your eyes. You’re bouncing on your feet a little to try and deal with the pain.

“How bad does it hurt?” Hotch checks.

Aaron’s felt this sort of protectiveness over you ever since you started. A little younger than him, this ball of light that’s come bursting into his life. You’re always the positive one, even in the darkest situations and he can’t help but want to shield you to keep it that way.

There’s this thing in his chest that tugs and tugs when you’re around, that makes him stand next to you in any room, in front of you in darkness.

“It’s okay,” you say, though your voice cracks a little. “I’m sure you’ve seen much worse, Hotch.”

“Aaron,” he reminds you gently, “and you don’t have to pretend. It’s alright if it hurts, I just wanna help.”

The sink running mingles with the music coming from the next room, the background noise to your moment with him.

“You could bring the nachos out? I told Garcia I would, but we see how that turned out.”

“Okay, I'll bring them out.”

“Don’t forget oven mitts!”

He huffs with a smile, somehow always surprised with how easily you can turn something around. A smile on your face even with tears shining in your eyes and a hand that’s surely stinging.

Aaron carries the tray of nachos and drops them off, then turns to Penelope, “you have a first aid kit?”

“Oh my gosh! Yeah, bathroom cabinet, I can grab it.”

“It’s alright, Garcia. I’ll get it.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Don’t worry. Nothing major, I’m taking care of it.”

He grabs the first aid kit and heads back to the kitchen where you’re still holding your hand under the stream of water.

“Okay,” Aaron sets the kit down on the counter, opening it and then turning off the tap. “Let me see, honey.”

The word melts into you, sticky sweet, and you hold your hand towards him, palm up.

He starts by drying your hand with a piece of paper towel, pressing your skin lightly. His other hand is under yours, his palm against the back of your hand a painkiller in itself.

You hiss when he hits a sensitive spot, and he’s quick to apologize, his voice low and quiet. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Almost done.”

“It’s okay, Aaron. It's not your fault I thought I was heat-proof.”

“You’re cute.”

A smile spreads over your face, your head tilted down to stare and his hands around yours. You watch him spread some Polysporin over your burn, his fingertips featherlight over your skin, soft apologies leaving him every time you flinch a little.

By the time he’s done, the first aid kit shut on the counter, you’ve both forgotten about the rest of the team in the next room. Aaron’s happy to bask in your sunshine.

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wildestdreamsblog · 4 months

Text

Might as well be drunk in love: 1 of 2

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)

Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.

Warnings: Love Potion, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: This idea came to me when I went to the mountain and saw a love potion wine thingy being sold there. I think it's just the name of the wine, anyway! I really, really tried so hard to finish this in one post but it's already almost 8kish and we aren't even near the end sksks Happy New Year, my loves! I hope you'll like my gift for you <3

“Am I that hopeless?”

“What?” your friend asked in faux innocence, blinking her eyes owlishly at you. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, sweetie-“

You glared at her as you pointed in an exaggerated manner at the expensive pink tumbler she handed you mere seconds ago. The tumbler was too fancy, something that you wouldn’t buy for yourself and something that a certain handsome but infuriating CEO of yours was fond of carrying around.

However, what was insulting was the content of the said tumbler.

“I just gifted you that because you mentioned that it was beautiful-“

“Do you really think I’d end up alone?!”

“I don’t understand-“

“You literally just said that you put the love potion you bought in the mountains here!” you hissed lowly, keeping your eyes around the conference room as your department waited for the seven CEOs to arrive. You attempted to smile which more or less came out as a grimace at one of your colleagues who looked at you weirdly because of your mini-outburst. You weren’t exactly meek in nature, nor were you shy. However, you weren’t really keen on letting anyone overhear that your close friend bought you a love potion just because she thought you would end up alone.

That was embarrassing, even for you. So nope, you would for sure keep this under wraps.

Her brows furrowed harmlessly, although you could see a hint of smile on her lips, “You’re welcome?”

“I’m not thanking you-“

Just then, all the seven CEOs walked in the conference room, their presence commanding and silence reigned through the whole room. The first to enter was Min Yoongi. He was strolling in the room with his hands in his pocket. He was said to be the ace of the group who could smell bullshit despite it being miles away. He honestly looked like he would rather be anywhere else than here right now, though. It was the complete opposite of Jung Hoseok, also known as the sunshine of the group. He was smiling widely as he greeted the department and some employees by their names, yet you weren’t fooled by his beautiful smile. He was the strictest of them all. He was perfectionist down to the core and he was the last to forgive any mistake. The last of the hyung line to enter was the Kim Seokjin, the most beautiful man you have ever seen. It was like the room literally lightened up when he stepped in, like the birds sang melodically the moment he opened his eyes. His tall form and his movement were precise as he confidently sauntered to his seat which just so happened to be beside yours. He placed his pink tumbler on the table, so eerily similar to yours sans the engraved of his name on his tumbler. The beautiful asshole didn’t even spare you a glance. Your back unconsciously straightened when the lead CEO, Kim Namjoon, locked eyes with you for a moment when he entered the room. He was said to be one of the most intelligent man in the whole country. You didn’t even doubt it one bit. He was capable, and his leadership was on another level. Should he decide to run for a political seat, you would undoubtedly vote for him. He had what it took, you thought. He was charismatic, calm and he knew when to listen.

The CEOs were dubbed by the employees to be divided by two: the Maknae and the Hyung line.

Finally, the maknae line entered. The three of them could always be found together. Park Jimin, the eldest of the line, who had one of the most beautiful smiles you ever saw. In fact, you once overheard your colleague that he interacted with her once and it left her thinking of what they really were. He was followed by Kim Taehyung and also labelled as his soulmate. He was expressionless as he entered, only cracking a smile when he turned to Jimin. You always thought that he could be a model or an actor if he wanted to. He definitely had the looks for it. Last to enter was the muscular Jeon Jungkook, also known as the golden maknae of the group. There were no contracts, mergers or acquisitions that he couldn’t convince the other party of signing. Not only was he capable of everything, but he excelled in everything. Thus, his nickname. However, despite the way he held himself during the negotiations, you observed him to be shy and highly reserved. All of a sudden, he looked up from his seat as though he could feel your eyes on him, his doe eyes curious as he took you in. He held your eyes for a moment until he blinked owlishly and looked down at his hands in curiosity.

Kim Namjoon sat in the middle, the others sitting beside him as they regarded the room with a powerful look.

“Shall we begin?” Kim Seokjin asked, his eyes focused on the slides reflecting in the projector.

Several headaches, passive aggressiveness from Namjoon, Hoseok and Jimin, disappointed sighs from Jin and Yoongi, difficult revisions ‘suggested’ by Taehyung, and corrections of miniscule errors of calculations by Jungkook later, the meeting finally ended.

You were weary as you trudged out of the conference room the CEOs were still in. They dismissed the department, expecting revisions within the day after tomorrow before discussing among themselves. It was honestly not a lot of time and you could already feel the lack of sleep you and the department would further experience under their tyranny. You willed yourself not to fall asleep as you walked to your desk, your close friend who was equally tired as you sat down on her seat beside your desk.

“I’m so tired. It’s like my soul and all the happiness I was able to experience in my young life were sucked out of me,” she lamented, her head resting on her desk. “If only the pay isn’t so greaaaat. ”

You nodded at what she said, already likening the CEOs to dementors in Harry Potter. Interacting with them made you aged several years. Additionally, meetings with them made you reconsider whether you needed a roof over your head, whether you needed to eat at least twice a day, whether you needed to drink clean water-

Speaking of…this wasn’t your tumbler.

The horrifying realization made you stood up abruptly. You lifted the pink tumbler to your widening eyes, and by that name there was no denying that this wasn’t yours. Your sudden movement awoke your friend from her own misery, yet you didn’t have the time to explain. Without any further thought, you ran back to the conference room, screaming and crying about how you were definitely going to get fired.

Of course, the elevator was under maintenance.

Of course, you had to run numerous flights of stairs.

Of course, it was just your luck that you ran into your manager just when you reached their floor.

And of course, the moment you opened the door, there they were, innocently drinking from a glass, the tumbler emptied as it sat in the middle of the table.

“Don’t drink that!”

Taehyung was the first to turn to you, his dark expressionless eyes meeting yours with intense stubbornness. He kept his eyes on yours as gulped the contents wholeheartedly.

Oh heavens, no.

He put the glass down with a resounding thud which felt like a nail to your coffin. You turned to look at the other CEOs with shaky eyes and it was apparent that they definitely drank their fair share of whatever was in the tumbler. You, on the other hand, weren’t sure if it was really safe for consumption. You were going to kill your friend for her prank!

Their eyes were focused on you. You couldn’t even blame them. You shouted at them all while looking like a lunatic with your disheveled hair and huffing breaths like you did a marathon. Oh wait, yes you probably did by the amount of running you did today. They were probably thinking that you were mentally unfit for this job and oh my God you were going to lose your job.

“May we help you, Ms. Y/N?” Hoseok asked you politely, his eyes never wavering from yours which was…unusual. Despite him being the image of kindness and approachability, he never looked at his employees for longer than necessary. He was a man that possessed such discipline when it came to his time. This… was absolutely an unnecessary length of time for eye contact.

“T-that’s my drink,” you finally said after tearing your eyes from Hoseok’s. You pointedly looked at the empty pink tumbler, not minding the intense look Namjoon was giving you.

“We apologize, little one,” Namjoon broke the silence, his deep voice awakening you from your stupor. “Yours looked like hyung’s.”

Little one???

Jimin smirked before running his hand through his blonde locks. His eyes were on yours as he looked up at you. “Yours undeniably taste better, though.”

Before you could even blink, Yoongi pointed at you with a rare smile on his lips. “You looked thirsty. Would you like to go to my office and drink with me?”

Was that…an invitation?!

You felt a hand tugged your sleeve. You turned, only to find beautiful doe eyes looking up at you from his seated form. “Hi! What year were you born?”

“199x-,“ you answered absentmindedly, you eyes roaming around the room when he tugged your sleeve again for your attention.

“You’re older than me!” he gasped; his excitement palpable as he stood up. He towered over you, his grin pleasant and you thought at that moment that he looked a lot like a bunny, or a kangaroo with the way his chest muscles were bulging over his office clothes. “Then you’re my noona! I can call you ‘noona’, right? Come on, take a seat here!”

He pulled the chair closer and tapped on it eagerly.

This was wrong, you thought. Was that thing really effective?! You dreaded to think that it was and you had a certain someone to torture once you get out of this room.

You were shaking your head before he could even pull you and you watched as his expression fell. Suddenly, he looked like a child that lost his toy with the way he was pouting. And nope, you couldn’t deal with that today. You looked at the man who hadn’t spoken one bit before smiling sheepishly at him. You placed his pink tumbler in front of him.

“I apologize. I must have switched yours with mine-“

His jaw tightened as he leaned in. Heavens, he was even more handsome this close. Kim Seokjin looked up at you with his ethereal eyes before resting his chin on his hand. “I’ve been drinking yours since the meeting, my love. It’s absolutely not your fault. Mine was coffee. This-“ he lifted the empty tumbler, “-is, I presume, a juice.”

Confusion further painted on your face, “You knew? Then why did you keep on drinking-“

He shrugged his broad shoulders, “It’s…addicting.”

“O-okay, then I’ll just leave yours here-“

“Tell me, my love. Do you like your job?”

Welp, here it was. You were so going to get fired. Oh my God, how were you going to feed your cat? He had such an expensive taste!

“I-“

“Because there’s an opening in my office. Would you like to be my secretary-“

“But hyung, you already have one-“

“Shut up, Taehyung,” he hissed at the now pouting man before turning to smile at you as though he didn’t berate his co-CEO in front of you. Chaos ensued as the boys fought and bickered for who would be your direct boss as you inched closer to the door.

“I’m just gonna go,” you whispered and before you could even reach the door, Taehyung looked up at you with his sharp eyes.

“Where are you going!”

“I-I have to finish the report this week, right?”

Namjoon stood up before declaring that he would finish it for you. And when you shook your head, “I am officially moving the deadline to next month! No need to stress, my little love!”

You blinked owlishly before doing what was best for you and your sanity- you ran away.

“So, they drank it?”

“Are you even listening to me?!” you shrieked over the phone, walking back in forth in front of your cat that was now looking at you as though he wanted to be adopted by a sane person and not you. “I just told you. They all drank it. All seven of them!”

You could hear the laughter in her voice which was not helping your panic, “I thought you didn’t believe love potions?”

“I-I didn’t! You didn’t see how they were acting! It was so peculiar!”

“Well, honey, how did they act?”

“Kindly! And it’s so weird!”

She paused, her silence making your heart beat faster. “Holy shit. It’s definitely effective. I need to go back there and buy another one for myself-“

“Focus! Is there an antidote or anything?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to ask my grandmother that lives there. I’ll let you know, but for the meantime, hold on very tight, okay?”

“What do you mean?!”

“Uhm. She said it’s very potent? I thought she was kidding. We’ll observe them tomorrow, okay? I’ll fix this.“

You were only able to sleep for two hours last night for two reasons: your work that you accomplished at eleven in the evening, leaving you six ample hours to sleep, and second, them.

Your phone didn’t stop ringing last night. You didn’t know how they obtained your number, and you dreaded to think that they used their position to direct the Human Resources department to give your personal number (yup, they definitely did).

You were about to fall asleep when your phone wouldn’t stop, and when you opened your eyes, you wished to all that was holy that you threw away the tumbler as soon as she handed it to you. Or that you didn’t choose the sit next to Seokjin.

You wished to God that your phone wasn’t blowing up now, but it certainly was.

Kookie: Hi, noona! Welcome to the Bangtan groupchat!

You squinted your eyes as the glaring screen illuminated with several messages from them.

Jwehope: Darling, are you a sprite? Because you've got the right amount of fizz to make my heart pop!

Jiminie: That’s so corny. I, for one, think that little one is a magician.

Jiminie: Because everytime I look at her, everyone just disappears.

V: Do you want to disappear, Jimin? Because I can arrange that.

Joonie: Ms. Y/N-shi, do you have a moment? I asked because I would like to discuss something.

At that, your trepidation grew. Among five, the lead CEO definitely held a serious tone. Did they find it as weird as you did that they were paying you attention? Did they trace it to that drink? Were you now in an even bigger mess than you initially thought?

You replied tensely: Yes, I am available, Kim Daepyonim.

WWH Jin: Why are you still awake? Beauty sleep is essential, my love!

Joonie: Great! I’d like to discuss the exponential growth of my feelings for you.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Suga: You’re all so hopeless. My Y/N would never fall for that.

Suga: On the other hand, would you like some Samsung stocks?

And that was why you never got to sleep peacefully last night. You sighed as you got on the bus. You opted to leave at an earlier hour because you wanted some time to think without the noise of the world and the buzzling movement of people commuting. You could feel a headache coming, but you prayed that it wouldn’t come through.

You should have known your prayers were seldom heard.

A vacant seat on the backside of the bus greeted you, and you were only too elated to finally sit throughout your commute. Peace, finally, you thought. You had barely settled in, barely breathed a sigh of relief when the once empty chair beside you was filled in by none other than him

“Fancy running to you here!” Taehyung noted in a deep voice as though this was not part of his plan, as though he didn’t wake up at a godforsaken hour just to ‘run’ to you.

You blinked, astonished by his presence. This was the last place you expected him to be. Hell, you didn’t even sure he ever experienced riding a bus! What the fuck was he doing here? Where was now your peace?!

“You-You’re here…” you trailed off, your eyes widening in shock as your brows furrowed in disbelief. You had foolishly thought that maybe, once they slept it off, then it would slowly be flushed out of their system. Oh, how wrong could you be. “Why?”

Taehyung smirked at you, his dark eyes taking you in. His dark hair was gelled up, his suit impeccable and without any crease in sight. He was somehow manspreading and you weren’t stoic enough not to notice the way his thick thigh was touching the side of yours. “I wanted to see you.”

“You’re so…honest.”

He didn’t even look embarrassed by his honesty. It didn’t displace him; what did was the annoying pain in his heart as the hours passed by and you weren’t in his arms nor his sight. He hated it. It felt wrong!

The other boys weren’t fairing any better but oh well, to each of his own. He may or may have also drained their cars of gas so they couldn’t leave. He thought that no one needed you as much as he did.

“I surmised that you wouldn’t believe if I say I frequent this path just for the hell of it, correct?”

You nodded dumbfoundedly as speech eluded you. His candor was definitely out of this world, and he seemed to not care as he only stared right at you.

“Now,” he whispered before tucking your hair behind your ear. “Now I feel at peace. The annoying pain finally stops.”

What pain?!

Before you could even ask him to elaborate, his head leaned on your shoulder.

“Daepyonim Kim-“

“Just stay like this for a while. I didn’t get to sleep, my love,” he answered in his hoarse voice, his eyes already closed as he dozed off. You didn’t know why you let him. It absolutely was not due to the fact that you felt your heart skipped a beat when he laid his head on your shoulder. Nope.

You managed to run away from Taehyung once the two of you arrived at the company, simply by practicing your non-existent ninja moves and awkwardly slipping out of the elevator just as the doors closed, his face an image of betrayal and panic. You breathed a sigh of relief before running out of the building. You still had an hour before you were needed, you for sure wouldn’t spend it inside that establishment or you would end up crying.

You were focused on your phone as you read real life stories of love potions. The sharing of stories kept on increasingly became more serious and scarier. You had yet to find a post about antidote. You weren’t 100% set on it being real, but the way Taehyung acted today was not right.

For heaven’s sake, the man barely said any word to you for the whole year you worked in their company. He had only looked at you before, and now he was outright going to you. But maybe, the other CEOs weren’t affected?

It was a hopeful thought, and you felt yourself smile a little- which of course vanished just as quickly when you looked up from your seat in the coffee shop to see Park Jimin sitting in front of you. You didn’t even know how he moved so smoothly and quietly. He was smiling at you, his head tilted to the side. His blonde hair stood out as the sunlight hit his hair perfectly.

“Good morning, beautiful!”

“Daepyonim Park,” you gasped both at shock and well, his beauty. His smile turned wider before he tried to hide it as he sipped from his coffee cup.

“Just Jimin, little one. I presume Taehyung- the bastard who will soon be six feet underground for what he did, by the way- already went to see you?”

You nodded, “He did…”

He scrunched his nose before resting his chin on his hand as he leaned into you. His pouty lips were protruding even more as he looked over his long lashes to you. My God, this man was so charming and his movements seemed so sensual. You didn’t know what it was about him, but you finally, finally understood your coworker who had a major crush on him for years based on one interaction.

“He’s so bad, my love. Did he tell you that he drained all our cars’ gas tank at two in the morning?” he asked in a conversational manner as though it didn’t faze him. His other hand reached to yours, slowly entangling them together and giggling a little at the slight size difference. He found them perfect and cute.

God, you were so endearing, he thought to himself.

“He did what?!”

He nodded slightly, holding your hand up to inspect further before quietly taking a picture of your clasped hands. You were so out of it that you just let it be.

“What Taehyung failed to account for was the existence of taxis. He only managed to anger six men, so good luck to him today. But enough about him,” he stated before looking into your eyes. Being the sole focus of Jimin was just too much, you thought. He was bigger than life, and his inherent appeal was palpable that even girls around the coffee shop kept on stealing glances on him. “I miss you so much today that my heart and head hurt so much, yeobo. I thought that I was going to die if I don’t see you.”

Your brows furrowed in concern before pulling your hand from him and you could have sworn you heard him whimpered. You laid the back of your hand on his forehead, trying to see whether he had fever today. He felt fine, you concluded, as you looked closer to see if he looked sick.

Maybe the ‘love potion’ caused these symptoms? Taehyung did mention experiencing pain.

You managed to escape from Park Jimin when he insisted on buying you pastries, and you in turn ran to the exit like your life depended on it. And perhaps, it did because you were running late. You only had fifteen minutes and the coffee shop you went to was not fifteen-minute away from the office. You were running like a lunatic, waving at the taxi that finally took pity on you. You were about to open the door when a large and tattooed hand slammed it shut.

You looked up in anger, ready to berate the man who did such a rude gesture when you recognized who it was.

Right then and there, and despite it being barely eight in the morning, you already met the entirety of maknae line. Jeon Jungkook looked like a badass with his all-black getup, his hands wrapped in motorcycle gloves, and his hair carelessly falling around his face. Despite all that, he looked innocent with the way he grinned at you, his nose all scrunched up when he greeted you.

“I’ll give you a ride, noona. Come on,” he stated as he gestured at the black motorcycle haphazardly parked on the side. You had never ridden one, and you didn’t want to start now. On the other hand, the taxi was already driving away and you could only look at it with longing.

You decided that you could afford being late just this once instead of riding with him. You were shaking your head.

“But you’re going to be late. I’m going there, too, so it’s no bother if that’s what you’re thinking-“

“No it’s just… I like to walk during the mornings…really.”

He frowned at you as he removed his gloves, “Didn’t you read the memo about tardiness, Y/N?”

“What memo?”

He was typing rapidly on his phone, “About how there would be 50% deduction of the salary should there be any tardiness this month…didn’t you know?” he asked innocently as he finished typing, his doe eyes trained on yours. Coincidentally, the moment he pocketed his phone was the moment your phone dinged.

“I don’t think that’s legal, though. I haven’t received the memo-“

You looked down at your phone, and there it was, an email about that. How could it only reach you now?!

You looked up in panic, and he looked at you with a hint of satisfaction before covering it with an innocent smile. “Shall we? I promise I don’t bite.” Yet.

He drove like a lunatic and you thought that you would really rather be late than experience a thrill such as this. Of course, it was only natural that you didn’t want to put your arms around him. You technically didn’t know him at a personal level and Jungkook did know that.

So, of course, like the intelligent man that he was, he only did the thing that made sense. He sped up, and he chuckled as your adorable screams reached his ears. Your equally lovely arms were now wrapped around him as they should always be and for once since yesterday, the ache in his heart eased. He felt at peace.

He giggled when you finally realized that this was not the path to the office, but in his mind, his other hyungs already got to spend time with you. Shouldn’t he too?

Jungkook helped you get off his bike, his eyes closely watching your expressions as you took the scenery around you. It was quiet despite the busy world below. The overlooking garden he brought you to was enchanting and it remained untouched by the quick-pacing world below. Jungkook couldn’t help but mirror your smile.

“It’s even more beautiful at night, noona. I come here when things get quite overwhelming.”

You turned to him as the two of you sat down. He had laid his leather jacket for you to sat on, a true gentleman you would think if only you weren’t aware that he drank the potion. “The golden maknae gets overwhelmed, too?”

He scrunched his nose at you before softly pinching your nose, “Of course, I do. I’m only human. I was trained when I was only thirteen…it gets too much sometimes. But it’s okay. I like it, and I like the hyungs, too. That’s why I cannot get mad at Tae.”

“He didn’t just empty the gas tank, but he also hid the keys. For added measure, he deflated my tire. He only did that to me. Should I be mad, little one?” he asked with the perpetual charming and shy smile on his face. “Ahh, but I cannot stay mad at him. I do understand him.”

“You do?”

He nodded eagerly, “I would have done the same thing if only he didn’t do it first. You do make us crazy, little one. Why is that?”

It was an eventful morning, and you weren’t foolish enough to think that the rest of your day would be any different. You friend was still yet to be found as she was preoccupied with researching for further information about that potion, which she should have done before giving it to you!

You sighed for the million time as you stared at your food. You were sitting alone in the company’s cafeteria as you were eating your late lunch. The workload was just too much today despite Kim Namjoon’s departmentwide directive that the revision would be presented the following month. Your superiors did find it peculiar and thought that the head CEO was simply playing with them and that he would cruelly demand the output the next day. See, even his reputation preceded him, you thought. It wasn’t in his nature to be lenient when it came to deadlines.

The sudden gentle thud of food a lunch box made you jumped from your seat, your eyes widening as you saw that it was none other than the eldest of the CEOs, Kim Seokjin. Disbelief held you captive. It was an unexpected sight – the CEO, whose tailored suits and polished demeanor spoke of boardroom authority, now standing before you with a container of something that smelled absolutely delicious.

He smiled at you as he took the empty seat in front of you. He busied himself with laying and opening the numerous food containers in front of you. Your eyes widened at all the homecooked meals in front of you.

“I got up at four in the morning to prepare all these. I still don’t know what your favorites are, but we’ll figure it out as we go, right?” he asked, busying himself with putting food on your plate. “Always eat on time, little one. It’s bad to skip meals.”

“W-why did you cook all these?”

He blinked owlishly at your question; surprise written on his face. “Well, my love, I couldn’t sleep and I felt this stabbing pain by the mere thought that you weren’t eating enough.”

“You don’t have to do that-“

“So from now on, I decided that I’ll always cook for you,” he declared strongly before lifting his chopsticks with vegetables to your mouth. Suddenly, you felt eyes on you.

How could you forget that you were in the company?! Your head turned, looking at the employees who were all watching your interaction with the unobtainable CEO. They were whispering and you knew by the end of the hour, everyone in the company would know of this. How could you live once they had the antidote? You could already hear the rumors about how you were just for their entertainment once they tossed you aside.

You were about to stand up when Seokjin gently gripped your chin. He turned you to him, his beautiful eyes willing you to listen to him. “Don’t mind them, little love. Pay attention to me only. Nothing and no one matter outside us, okay?”

It wasn’t okay because none of this was real. On the other hand, the meal tasted heavenly…

---

If they weren’t going to get sick, you definitely would. You felt like you would collapse any moment.

The amount of stress was taking a toll on you. You felt like you needed to be on your guard, lest another CEO would ambush you. You were just human! And they all looked like they stepped out of a photoshoot, or that they were ethereal beings that decided to go down on the mortal realms. The way they were showering you with attention and declaring their attraction to you and the way they said that not being with you felt like a stabbing pain in their hearts were all getting to you, damn it!

You were just a girl.

And once this all ended, you were dreading to think of what would be left of you now that you saw them on a closer and more personal level. You wanted to think that this couldn’t get any worse, but it did as you read the most elusive of the CEOs’ email to you.

Hi, my little one,

I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to request your presence at a meeting in my office to discuss my growing feelings for you today at 2:00 pm. Your insights and expertise on this matter would be highly valuable to the discussion, and I believe your input will contribute significantly to our objectives of being together forever and ever.

Thank you in advance for your cooperation, and I look forward to our discussion.

Best regards,

CEO Min Yoongi

He had this faraway look on his face when you were led by his secretary in his office. His hands were in his pocket as he looked at the bustling city from his floor to ceiling window. His black long hair was sleeked back, revealing his stoic face. The dark suit he was wearing did nothing but compliment his form. You had never noticed how broad his shoulders were until now.

He looked like he was not paying attention, yet he turned around the moment that the door closed behind you. Min Yoongi looked at you for a moment too long that you started to shift uncomfortably. His attention was just too much, and you couldn’t act like you were no longer affected by any of it.

And from the looks of it, the moment you blushed was the exact moment his face softened. He gestured for you to take the seat in front of his desk. He mirrored your movement, now sitting on his expensive swivel chair. He clasped his hands and rested them on the mahogany table.

“Daepyonim Min-“

He held his finger up, asking for your silence before spilling what you thought to be both outrageous and the most beautiful and heartfelt thing anyone had ever said to you in this life. “You’re beautiful, and not just in the way that you look. No. You’re beautiful in the way that the sun finally shines after a month of storms; you’re beautiful in the way that the waves keep on going back to the shore even after they were pushed away in the desire to kiss the sand; you’re beautiful in the way that flowers bloom after the unforgiving winter coldness. And that is why I’m giving you Samsung stocks.”

Confusion settled over you like a fog. You had almost melted from what felt like a poetry when he once again brought up his stocks idea from last night.

“I-I really don’t need Samsung stocks, Daepyonim Min…”

He looked aghast at your statement, before reaching over the table and holding your hand in his particularly large ones. “Call me Yoongi, my love. Or better yet, call me your other half,” he implored you and he only let go when you nodded in confusion.

“Also, nonsense! Everyone needs that stock, little one. Besides, nothing speaks more about my love for you than giving you all my Samsung stocks. And above and beyond, it filled me with this immense pain knowing that you’re just out there not owning any of their stocks. I couldn’t breathe with the mere thought of you going without.”

“Excuse me?”

And with a stoic face, he said, “Congratulations, little one. You’re now a millionaire."

At six in the evening, the head CEO finally made an appearance. You did find it peculiar that you had a fairly quiet afternoon after meeting with Yoongi. Your brows were pinched together as you were lost in thought when the elevator opened, revealing the head CEO. He had yet to notice you, his large and imposing form leaning against the side of the elevator. His eyes were close. You noticed that his white sleeves were already folded, his tie already loosened as his black suit laid on his thick forearms.

Kim Namjoon was the image of weariness, and you thought he looked quite pale. Your growing concern for him was what made you stepped inside the lift rather than running away yet again. The sound of your heels as you stepped in was the only sound in the elevator. You pressed for the ground floor and you saw that the floor for basement three was already pressed. Perhaps, the head CEO was going home now. Now that you were standing almost next to him, you only further affirmed how small you were next to him. He was already larger than life, and the way he always held himself exuded confidence made him more striking…and manly in your eyes.

The ride was fairly quiet, and through it all, he had his eyes closed. You kept on stealing glances, thinking that maybe among the other CEOs, he took in the least amount of potion. You felt lighter with that thought. At least you only had five men you needed to find the antidote for. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen the sunshine of the group, Jung Hoseok yet.

The elevator dinged, signifying your floor. You had taken merely a step when you felt a large hand completely encircling your wrist, effectively stopping you from leaving. You automatically turned, startled to find him with his eyes trained on you. He looked way too alert for someone who had his eyes closed for the past minute. You gasped when he pulled you closer to him as he pressed the close button.

“Daepyonim Kim,” you called him as you craned your neck to look at his draconic eyes.

“Leaving so soon?" he asked, his deep voice carrying a subtle mix of amusement and curiosity.

You hesitated, the words tumbling out of your mouth as he caught you off guard. “I... uh, yes. I was heading to the lobby. I’m about to leave for the night," you stammered, attempting to regain composure.

A playful smile curved his lips as he completely blocked the exit. leaned against the elevator frame, effectively blocking your exit, which sounded successful as the door closed. “I missed you,” he breathed as he took you in, his thumb gently running over the inside of your wrist as though touching you brought him immense comfort. “A lot. It was hell without seeing you the whole day.”

You blinked owlishly and you wanted nothing but to hide your face from the intensity of his gaze, but he wouldn’t let you. Instead, he smiled so gently at you, the dents on his cheeks making an appearance which made him more charismatic that you couldn’t say no when he told you that he would take you home.

But he didn’t exactly say which home because you ended up in what turned out to be the CEOs’ huge ass mansion. Your eyes roamed around the mansion, the high ceilings and the fancy marble flooring all screamed wealth that you didn’t even dare of dreaming to have. He confidently led you to what appeared to be a grand dining room. The room bathed in the soft, flickering glow of candlelight, casting a warm and intimate ambiance. The delicate flames danced gracefully, creating patterns of light and shadow that played across the table. The air carried the subtle fragrance of the candles, a mix of vanilla and subtle hints of lavender.

The dining table was adorned with crisp, white linen, and the flickering candles were nestled in elegant holders, their glow reflecting off polished silverware and crystal glasses. Each flame seemed to dance in harmony with the gentle melody playing in the background, creating a soothing symphony that enveloped the space.

He pulled a chair for you, and instead of sitting across from you, he sat beside you. He chuckled lowly when he caught your questioning eyes, “I have been apart from you for so long today, little one. I need this to feel alive.”

You straightened up in vigilance that the other CEOs would show up. “Are the others here, too?”

He looked at you like you said something funny. The chef he hired today gently laid all the dishes he made, explaining about each dish before wishing the two of you an enjoyable night. Namjoon told you that he wouldn’t feed you any of the food he made unless he enrolled himself in a culinary school first, hence the chef. He waited for the chef to leave before turning his full attention to you.

“I shipped them off to Antartica.”

“You what?!”

“I simply said we were flying to Japan for a quick meeting. They believed. I lied. End of. So anyway, how many children do you think we should have?”

My God, you wanted so bad to lay on your bed and sleep the whole night. You though about filing for sick leave tomorrow, you were long overdue for a leave, anyway. Kim Namjoon was kind enough to drop you off. However, it was only after you promised him that you would talk about possible schools for your future children that he let you go.

On the other hand, your friend finally called and you were sorely disappointed to know more about what she gathered today. Her grandmother had to ask the other folks that lived in the mountain about your situation and it somehow appalled you that you weren’t the first to experience this.

It was, at the same time, sad to see people resort to this from loneliness.

Was an artificial, forced love and companionship better than being alone?

There were both an instant and quite a long-term effect of the potion, she said. The instant was mostly upon ingesting the liquid. Once they locked eyes with the owner of the potion which so happened to be you since she technically gifted it to you, then the immense attraction would start. You thought that this explained why the seven of them all acted that way in the conference room.

The long-term effects were what caused you to groan all the way up to your apartment. And right then and there, you saw what the long-term effects were. As you trudged up to your apartment, you felt the exhaustion to your very bones. You were looking forward to a hot shower in an effort to wash away the problems that stemmed from a simple prank when you saw who was leaning against your front door.

The last of the CEO, Jung Hoseok, was leaning against the door, his head bowed down as he clutched his heart. He looked like he was in unfathomable pain, his lips almost the shade of white. And your friend’s words echoed in your mind.

‘Prolonged non-contact with the object of their desires will cause them to be physically ill.’

You hurried up to him, holding his shoulders as you looked at him. You were crouched down in front of him, peeking up at his pained face.

“S-sir, are you okay?”

His chest tightened, his face contorted, a mask of agony etched with lines of distress. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, evidence of the intense effort to draw in even the smallest amount of air. The hallway fell silent, save for the raspy, labored breaths that escaped him.

‘They may try to fight the unexplainable feelings they have, and this will only cause them harm. In fact, if they go without you for a long period of time, their body will suffer for a long time.’

“Hoseok? Can you hear me? I’ll call for help, okay?” you tried to make yourself sound calm for his sake, but seeing him struggling, desperate to gasp for air was making you panic. Your negligence did this, you thought. You should have made sure that you were holding the right tumbler that day.

You were about to turn to call for help when you felt a hand pulled you closer, and before you knew it, he had his arms around you. He was still breathing hard, but you noticed that the shallow breathings were farther and apart as though he could finally breath. The moment you touched him, the moment you looked into his eyes was the exact moment that a wave of relief swept over him as the oppressive grip on his chest began to loosen. The moment that you called his name was the moment that the torment that had shackled his every breath gradually lifted, replaced by the sweet release of a deep, calming respiration.

“Don’t leave me.”

‘However, every interaction with you would only make their attraction grow further.’

You placed a glass of water in front of the man who now looked perfectly fine as though he wasn’t fighting for his very life outside your apartment. He was offering you reassuring smiles as he gently watched you. He was surrounded by sacks of expensive cat food, toys, and vitamins. And of course, your cat was only too happy with them, evident by the excessive purring he was emitting as he climbed on the CEO’s lap.

“I did hear that you have an adorable son int the form of a cat,” he started as he petted your spoiled cat. “As his future daddy, I would like to provide for him as early as now.”

You didn’t pay attention to whatever he was saying, and instead, you sat next to him to see if he was really fine. The paleness was now exchanged by a healthy look on skin. It was as though that didn’t happen.

“Hoseok, listen…the reason that you are all acting this way to me, the girl you didn’t even notice before this, was because-“

“Because of that drink, right?” he interrupted you, wearing a soft smile that conveyed he harbored no anger.

“Y-you know…”

He nodded before tilting his head, “I do. It’s weird, as you said. The thing is, all of us suspects the same thing. You, little one, only confirmed it.”

“I didn’t mean for any of these to happen-“

The soft look he had was now dropped, revealing the strict CEO that everyone knew him to be. “Regardless, little one. You need to take responsibility over your actions.”

“H-how?”

“You’re going to live with us until all of this fades. You’re going to take responsibility over us, my love.”

Part 2

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liketolovexx · 28 days

Text

James Potter is easily the biggest of the three. He’s just so muscular and strong, but in a soft way. He’s got a soft layer of fat protecting his muscles, and I imagine he’s very freckled too. Not sure why. He is the epitome of a golden retriever boyfriend. He likes being the big spoon, and has an INCREDIBLE weak spot for getting his hair played with. Like, it’s literally orgasmic to him. He grew up with everything. Love, money, etc, etc, so he’s probably the touchiest (at first), and is all over you from the start. Also, I think he often forgets his strength and squeezes u too hard and you’ve gotta be like “uh.. Jamie..? You’re.. you’re kinda squeezing-“ and he just puts an arm over ur mouth like “shut up, baby. Sorry. Love you.” He’s adorable.

Remus Lupin is just a normal sized boy, and runs hot like a radiator. Honestly. He doesn’t even need all those knitted sweaters and warm coffee because he just is the embodiment of autumn warmth. He’s littered with silver scars from his lycanthropy, so when u see him naked for the first time, he’s so self conscious. He’d have his arms wrapped around himself, shielding his scars from your view, and you’ve got to prize his hands off of himself. “I’m sorry.. i know they’re not.. appealing.. it’s…” and you’re just like “woah, rem, what? You’re fucking beautiful.” You say that, and he’s yours. He’s not used to love like James is, but he’s probably the one to start getting cuddly. I imagine it’s winter and he’s reading in the common room, and ur shivering because by some miracle the fire isn’t on. He looks up from his book, admiring you for a while and then lifts up his sweater. You SHOOT underneath it and basically curl up like a cat against his bare chest. I repeat: HE IS SO FUCKING WARM. You’d probably have an ‘eternal sunshine of the spotless mind’ moment with him at the start of your relationship though. You know when Clementine is saying she always thought she was ugly and Joel starts kissing her and saying “you’re pretty, you’re pretty, you’re pretty…” yeah, you’d be Joel and he’d be Clementine. But once he’s comfortable, he’s a fucking fiend. You’ll never be cold again, trust me.

Sirius Black is skinny and pale. Like a vampire. Endearingly. I imagine he has a nose piercing and an eyebrow piercing, and he’s all tattooed up. Will DEFINITELY get your initial on his abdomen or collarbone in swirly penmanship. Sirius will act like your best friend even when u two are dating. Bless him though, he’s so used to being hurt and abused by those that are meant to protect him that he can’t trust you at first. I think the first time he came to realise you were different is when you asked him what happened after winter break at his parent’s house, because he was being really quiet and flinching a lot which is unlike him. You cornered him in the common room when no one else was there, and asked him “hey, Siri? What’s going on, man? Tell me.” He insisted, “I’m fine. I swear, sweetheart.” You went to tuck his black curls behind his ear but he flinched, which shattered your heart. You said “Sirius, please. I need to know you’re okay, because I need you safe.” And hearing that, he broke down into your arms. From then on, he’s always in your arms. He adores comforting you, because he’s a big brother himself and so he has the instinct, you know? But man, does he fucking adore being in your arms. He WILL curl up beside you wherever you’re sitting or lying, and is always rubbing against you. He always says “I can’t help it, babe, it’s just the dog in me.” Which he seems to find HILARIOUS. Oh yeah, and he literally can’t sleep unless you’re the big spoon or his head is on your chest or in your neck. He likes to feel safe and protected for once, and you do that for him to no end. He’s THE 70s rocker stereotype, and he loves having matching nail polish with you. You’re best friends as well as lovers.

Sorry for yapping to no end guys!!!

#sirius black x reader #Sirius black prompt #james potter x reader #James potter prompt #remus lupin x reader #Remus Lupin prompt #marauders x reader #the marauders #sirius black scenario #james potter scenario #remus lupin scenario #Sirius black💌*~#Remus Lupin💌*~#James potter💌*~

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bedsyandco · 1 month

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 … fem!reader x lando norris

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 … just everyone thinking lando and his bsf (you!!) should date. there’s no real time frame for this. it’s all over the place. just little snippets. I don’t really know what I wanted to do with this tbh😭

✰ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 … no warnings!!

✰ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 … my first time making content for lando!! I think the friends to lovers trope fits him so well!! I hope you like it!! this is beyond silly so obviously don’t take it too seriously!!

lando.jpg

liked by danielricciardo, georgerussel and others.

lando.jpg: she’s already on here all the time🙄 but this is a very special lando.jpg post because it’s someone’s birthday! not gonna get all sappy on you but @.yourusername is the most beautiful, genuine, kindest, funniest, emphatic, caring, loving, rizziest (she forced me to add that last part) person that you’ll ever meet and I’m beyond lucky that I get to call her my bestfriend. Love you forever and a day sunshine. happy birthday!❤️

… (view all comments)

landoluvr4: actually gonna go jump off a bridge. this is too much for me

yourusername: the best bestfriend a girl could ask for. love you to bits my lan. 🩷

lilymhe: y/n can rizz me up any day😏🥰

⤷ user44: lily you are so real for this😭

⤷ yourusername: already rizzed you up. you’re my wife 💍💋

⤷ landonorris: @.alexalbon come collect your menace

⤷ yourusername: hey now! don’t talk about my girl like that!

⤷ alexalbon: what she said

maxfewtrell: so am I getting a birthday post dedicated to me or what?

⤷ landonorris: sorry mate there’s only place for one best friend on the .jpg

⤷ maxfewtrell: oh? I see how it is 😔

⤷ landonorris: relax mate. I said on the jpg. you know I have to post my main babes on the main account😘

⤷ yourusername: oh? I see how it is 😔

⤷ landonorris: you can never win in this economy 🧍🏻

user64: when are these two gonna get together

⤷ love4lando: no fr. they have so much chemistry, there’s no way there’s not tension between them

⤷ user70: a guy and a girl can be just friends you guys do know that right?

⤷ love4lando: a guy and a girl? sure. not these two though

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen, oscarpiastri, and others.

yourusername: race weekend recap. my boy did good🧡

… (view all comments)

landonorris: you look good in everything, but especially orange😩

⤷ user34: he’s so down bad it’s insane

⤷ landoluvrr: lando thirsting for y/n on main. what’s new

landonorris: my biggest fan😌

⤷ yourusername: always🥰

user99: you know lando was giggling, blushing and kicking his feet over the “my boy” part

⤷ carlossainz: he was

⤷ oscarpiastri: he screenshotted it, printed it and glued it on his wall

⤷ landonorris: this is why max is my favourite

landofan4: my boyFRIEND. think you missed the rest of the word there

user14: y/n in the paddock again🥺. you love to see it. wish she could come to every race :(

⤷ landonorris: ditto 😔

landonorris

liked by lewishamilton, charlesleclerc, and others.

landonorris: ❤️

… (view all comments)

user46: please tell me this means what I think it means

user29: I could die of cuteness. they’re so adorable

user64: literally 99% of my problems would be solved if this is them hard launching.

carlossainz: cuuute😍

yourusername: ❤️

⤷ landoluvrr: y/n please confirm it for us 😩

yourusername: I love my BF so much🥰

⤷ landonorris: you should. I’m pretty great😌

⤷ oscarpiastri: humble too😉

maxverstappen: fucking finally. took you two long enough

⤷ user21: haha max is all of us rn😭

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris blurb #lando norris insta au #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

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luffysscraps · 6 months

Note

Please I have baby fever! I NEED monster trio as dads headcanons. I blame Bluey for this. Thanks in advance 💕🤞🏾

Monster trio as fathers

Ft; Luffy, Zoro, Sanji

Cw; Fem reader. Nothing else just fluff.

•Luffy

Luffy gets you pregnant by accident. But he’s not worried about it at all, he’s really happy. “We’re having a baby?! That’s so cool!” He’s very excited to be a father but knows little to nothing about it.

You two have a baby girl. And he’s so happy! He doesn’t care much about the gender of the baby. He’ll love his child no matter what. The second she’s out of you and into his hands he holds her up for everyone to see. “Look! Look she’s here!” He shouts while joyful tears fall from his cheeks.

His little girl gets only the best from Luffy. He bathes her, feeds her and changes her all the time. He feeds her a little bit too much, and she has a never ending stomach like her father. She’s almost always hungry resulting in baby chub.

A giggly baby! This girl loves to laugh! She laughs more then anything else and with her jokester of a father she gets more then enough daily giggles. His stretchy skin makes for a great toy! He can pull on his face and make funny faces. Give her a finger to tug and listen to her laugh as it stretches. And even great to chew on. She kinda ends up thinking every human is like that though and tugs on people randomly. And she’s got a lot of strength for a baby (I mean look at who her dad is.) The force of her tug was enough to trip Zoro.

But once she’s old enough to start crawling and waddling, Luffy’s always active with her, chasing her, playing tag with her and playing with her. Her baby chub quickly melts away with him around. She’s so playful, always babbling and tugging on his leg to chase her and Luffy’s always up for the challenge. She has Luffy’s big wide eyes and looks like a carbon copy of her father.

These two are always talking, like always. Even when she literally can’t communicate beyond a few words and the rest is babbles. He will sit there and listen to her for hours on end and respond to everything she’s saying as if she’s actually speaking. He loves hearing her voice, whether it’s her managing to say ‘papa’ or her spitting her tongue out at him.

He takes her everywhere with him. He’s always holding her close to his chest while exploring new towns and villages. Everyone tells him not to bring her into dangerous places but he doesn’t listen. So to calm everyone’s nerves a little bit, Franky makes him a chest baby carrier that’s reinforced with armor. That only ends up making it worse though because now he thinks he can take her exploring with him. Like this man sees no problem in adventuring in a scary, dark forest where man eating predators are everywhere with a baby. He slingshots back to the ship with her in her carrier giggling against his chest and he feels proud of himself. Only for Nami to hit him and tell him how dangerous that was. The only situation he hands her off to you or someone else is when he’s about to engage in a tough battle. He’s confident in his skills and knows he can win but he’s not taking any chances of his sunshine getting hurt.

Given she looks just like her father, (and the fact he practically shoved her in Koby’s and Helmeppo’s faces when their fleet showed up to apprehend them) the navy knows the king of the pirates has a child. They’ve been trying to wipe you off the map for some time now and the same goes for your daughter despite her only being months old. No matter they’re not getting their hands on her. Luffy is serious when anything has to do with his daughter and if the marines think they can pull a fast one on him and kidnap his daughter, He sends their whole fleet to a watery grave. Even taking out every nearby marine base in the area to send a loud and clear message to the marines. ‘Don’t fuck with his daughter.’

When she’s around 5 the two somehow manage to get even closer then before. With her newfound ability to talk and make sense while doing it. They talk for HOURS. About food, games, books, the sky, fishing, everything. He tells her tales of his adventures and how her papa became pirate king. The two are best friends.

In all honesty he wants another one, maybe two, or three if you let him. She brings him back to when he was a kid and he wants her to have siblings like he did. But then he remembers an important lesson that he passes down to his daughter.

Luffy sits on the thousand Sunny’s figurehead. His daughter sitting besides him and wearing her straw hat that he had passed down to her. The little girl carrying the legacy of the king of the pirates without knowing it. They’re both silent but it’s a comfortable silence. He then looks over to her with a soft smile on his lips, bringing a finger up to her cheek and poking her. He laughs and brings her closer to him sitting her down on his lap. Some wisdom from the past remerges while he watches the sunset with his daughter. And suddenly he begins to speak. “Here’s a little secret sunshine, once you share a bottle of sake, you can become siblings with anyone.”

“Really? That’s all it takes?”

“Of course it does! Your papa would never lie to you! So when you find your long lost sibling. Rejoice with them over sake. Alright?”

“Alright papa!” Luffy smiles and looks at the setting sun wondering what the future held for the little girl who had the world in her palms.

•Zoro

“Run that by me again…?” Just like Luffy, Zoro gets you pregnant by accident. It’s not that he’s scared or anything, you’re the only woman he’d want to have a child with. But it’s just that he’s not prepared. It was something he wasn’t expecting.

The two of you have a baby boy. In all honesty that’s what he was hoping for. You swear while you’re recovering from giving birth you heard him give out a small cheer in trumpet when Chopper announced the gender. ‘Did he think this was a challenge?!’ He’s attached the second he holds him. His son melts his heart when he grasps his giant finger with his tiny one.

Although he wasn’t prepared he’s surprisingly good with a child. He changes him, feeds him and bathes him. Bonding over the little moments like washing out his hair for the first time. You swear you saw tears but this man literally forced the tear back into his eye when you pointed it out.

His son is silent baby. He doesn’t cry, he doesn’t whine. He only lets out small babbles every now and again when he’s trying to get your attention. You ask Chopper if he’s okay and he’s perfectly healthy. He just doesn’t show a lot of emotion. You can get him to laugh, giggle and smile if you try but on the day to day he is totally silent.

When Zoro has to watch him, he trains with him on top of him. Using his son as a little extra weight. It’s kinda adorable actually. He’s lifting up tons of weight above his head while the baby boy is sucking his thumb in the sling around his chest. He’s acting so tough while doing dead lifts. And every time he comes back down he gives his son a little forehead kiss.

When he begins crawling and waddling Zoro is determined to get him walking. He’s literally the best baby coach, always hyping his son up for the littlest things. “ ‘Atta boy!” “That’s my son!” “Did anyone else see that?! That’s my kid! He came from me!” Like- calm down he just clapped his hands. He supports his son in every little thing and helps him walk for the first time. Again he sucks up his tears and pretends he’s not crying. He’s so proud of the little guy.

He mostly hands him off to you when you guys are on a new island. He knows his son is safe with you, and with you holding carrying the baby he can protect both of you at the same time. Plus he’s known to get lost and one of his worse fears is getting lost with his child. If he’s lost by himself as least he knows you two are both safe. If he got lost with his child he’d be paranoid for his child’s safety. He knows he can protect him from any physical harm but he can’t use three sword style with him near. Plus he’d have to make sure he’s hydrated, and well feed and it’s just a lot of stress on him. It’s better if you have him and stick in groups when exploring.

When he’s finally starting to walk on his own Zoro buys him a small wooden toy sword. And just like his father he’s skilled with a sword. He loves it a lot, he likes to swing it on anything and everything. He often knocks anyone who walks past him on their legs and his favorite victim is Sanji. And Zoro’s just like “Yes, Yes hit him!” You apologize daily to Sanji when you find your son has been beating him up all day. Your son is confused, Papa says yes and mama says no. So to please you both he hits Sanji when his father’s near and doesn’t when you’re nearby.

Once he’s 5 Zoro starts training his little boy. He’s not soft on him at all and respects him as a swordsmen. Although Zoro loved his teacher when he was younger he just had wished he had treated him like he was an equal instead of a child. So he instructs his son as if they are equal. Most think this would cause him to relent his father but your son has Roronoa genes and it just bonds him closer with her father.

Zoro’s sword clashes against the smaller sword as his son’s stance was getting tougher and harder to block. Nonetheless Zoro doesn’t let him win. He smacks the sword out of his hand and makes him yield. “That’s another win-“ Zoro goes to speak but he sees the slight tension in his son’s eyes and immediately bends down to the boy’s height. “What’s troubling ya kid?”

“I just don’t get it. I can defeat pirates twice my size, Marines, almost anyone, but I can’t beat you.” Zoro hears his son’s lament and it reminds him of a familiar feeling he had when he was younger. And before he can speak another word Zoro leans in and hugs him. “So? What does it matter. Maybe one day you’ll beat me, maybe one day you won’t. Maybe one day you’ll beat someone stronger than me… maybe you won’t. And that’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, and if you want to defeat me well it’ll take a lot longer and more practice.” Zoro picks up the green haired boy and holds him in his hands running a hand through his shaggy locks.

“Don’t pressure yourself. Just worry about what you can do today. Tomorrow will always exist.” Zoro says simply and that calms the five year old’s nerves. The male gives him a smile and ruffles his locks before going to leave the crow’s nest. “Alright now let’s find mama.”

•Sanji

Unlike everyone else, Sanji gets you pregnant because you two think you’re ready for a child. Keyword Is think. “Oh my love~ I’ve prepared the strawberries cream cheese and jalapeños you’ve request~!“ You don’t lift a finger during your pregnancy. Sanji does everything for you and forbids you to go exploring or fight during this time. For better or for worse you stay with the Sunny every time it docks. And Sanji prefers to stay with you every time but if he genuinely can’t and needs to help protect the crew he kisses you like it’s his last every single time.

You two have a baby girl and Sanji is ecstatic. He’s going overboard already, buying hundreds of outfits, toys and baby equipment. He bathes her, cleans her, feeds her and if he knew how Sanji would breath for her. You rarely get to see her and she’s YOUR baby. Like Sanji’s practically raising her all by himself. He does her hair, combing her long blonde locks back into two big pigtails. She looks just like her father, even having his ‘curly brows’.

She’s a shy baby. She’s a scaredy cat, and she cries easily. Sanji’s always there to help her feel better. He’s always there to rock her to sleep, and to play with her to stop her from crying. It takes a while for her to get settled with the crew as they all sorta scared her and made her tear up. But Zoro scared her the most for some odd reason. She starts screaming and crying whenever he enters the room and Sanji immediately gets pissed at him. “GET OUT OF HERE MOSS HEAD!” And your daughter is grateful her father’s there to protect her from that scary man.

He sits her down in a high chair nearby while he’s cooking. Making sure to keep her far away from any harm but close enough encase she falls out of the chair. She loves to sing and babble Melodies. She makes the perfect cooking partner. He listens to her sing while he works and hands off little cuts of food to her to taste. “Hmm this taste good?” He’d ask when he hands her a slice carrot. She babbles happily nodding her head while chewing on the carrot slice.

He’s a helicopter parent. He’s always making sure his baby girl is safe. He’s always checking that knifes are put away, and that she can’t play with anything dangerous. Hell he even bubble wraps some baby toys that are too sharp for his likings (calm down babe it’s a plastic fishing rod). He keeps her away from the railings, standing far back and holding her tightly so there’s no chance of her falling in. The worse thing that could possibly happen to him is if she ever gets hurt. Even small bumps or her falling down breaks his self esteem. “I’m a terrible father, how could I have let this happen.” He soothes her pain to the best of his ability but feels so, so terrible he let it happen.

He’s a picture dad. Whoever let this man get his hands on a camera made the biggest mistake of their lives because now they have to deal with him showing them baby pictures of her. Every single second of the day. “Oh! Oh here’s where she spit out her tongue at her food! And here’s her sleepy face! Isn’t she so adorable!” He gushes over her showing them pictures and taking up their life while his daughter is right there staring at them both. He takes pictures of every little moment and makes not just one scrap book, but multiple. On every island he makes sure to stock up on camera film because it’s most likely going to be gone by tomorrow.

Speaking of which when the Sunny is docked on a new island your daughter is with you at all times. Knowing Luffy’s attraction to danger and how he’s one of the strongest he often has to fight. He instructs you to run and hide in the safest place possible with your daughter if danger arises. He trusts you to protect her but when push comes to shove but he rather you both are safe while there’s danger around. And if you’re threatened, or worse. Your daughter is. Sanji will rip anyone who threatens his family apart and with no remorse. Even women. That’s how you know he’s serious.

When she’s 5 Sanji’s even closer with his little one. He buys her anything she asks for! It’s all worth it just to see her smile. (Nami never gives him allowance anymore since he spent millions of berry on a purebred horse rental for her). She’s the sweetest little girl around, and has a soft spot for animals. She wants to become a veterinarian even. And while Sanji knows little to nothing about animal care, he’s still his daughter’s biggest fan and supporter. But his world opened when he found his daughter we crying, he wondered why but then saw the dead squirrel in her palms. She must have snuck it back on the ship and kept it as a pet, but due to Sanji’s sheltering she didn’t know what was going on. He neglected to teach her about death, he thought such scary things and concepts could wait until she was older but it was clear he made a mistake.

“P-papa….” “Oh come here sweetheart…” Sanji engulfs her in a hug and pulls her into his lap while she cries into his chest. “I don’t know why he won’t wake up! I brought him food and water! B-but he hasn’t woken up in two days! I-I don’t know why but I feel sad! W-what’s wrong with Mr. Squirrel?” As his daughter cries and sniffles against him he doesn’t know where to start really. He stammers over his words before he starts. “Honey…Mr. Squirrel is dead…” “He stopped breathing and now he’s not here anymore. No one knows where you go when you die but he’s not with us anymore.”

“O-oh… well can he come back and say goodbye first?”

“I’m sorry sweetie but that’s not possible.”

“Oh well…. Can… can we die too? Is that gonna happen to you one day? And… mama? And me?”

“Yes sweetheart. Everyone dies. But it’s always at the right time, you’ll make memories you’ll never forget and when it’s time for your journey to end. It must meet its end.”

“I don’t want to die.”

“No one does. And if you could live forever I’d find a way for you too. But for now it’s something that happens to everyone and everything. There’s no need to be scared of it. It’s just apart of life. Don’t worry about it now my love, for now we can burry Mr. Squirrel and have a funeral at the next island. Would you like that my dear?”

The air is quite somber as the little girl processes what death is and that she can’t run away from it. Her tears come to a stop and suddenly she doesn’t feel that sad anymore now that she realizes it’s a part of life. “Mmhmm… I’d like that.” She whispers and Sanji smiles at her picking her up and exiting her bedroom. “Now let’s go find a shoebox to put him in until the next island.”

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eupheme · 3 months

Text

— Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On

Hancock (FO4) x Sole Survivor!F!Reader

Rated E - 5.8k

Tags - 3rd person very loose pov, sole survivor!f!reader (no descriptors), canon-typical raider violence & death, mutual pining, teasing, partners to lovers, two idiots in love, waiting out a storm, mention of food/eating, SS!reader gets dicked down wearing Hancock’s coat, the hat stays on, fingering, oral (f receiving), spitting, manual restraints, multiple orgasms, PiV, creampie, mention of a cigarette/smoking, references to chems

started this while doing research for wasteland, baby - and was consumed with thoughts of a slightly softer “oh fuck, I’m in love” Hancock

It’s a dangerous thing - to have feelings for the person you’re traveling with. Too many things can go wrong in an instant and yet… here they are. Steadfastly ignoring the something that has been building, thick enough to taste.

Luckily, an incoming rad storm might just be the push they need.

He’s fucked.

Figuratively, not literally. Unfortunately.

That’s part of the problem, if he could call it that. And he probably shouldn’t - because it’s not her fault. Just his.

It was a rookie move, falling for his traveling companion. Should have kept it just professional - strictly business. No ‘get to know you’s, no inside jokes.

But he had never been the professional type. Not his style.

And somewhere along the way - between getting the shit kicked out of them, the close calls, the long miles of barren road - something had started to grow. Curling around his ribs and filling his guts up like ripe tarberries.

Letting it grow and flourish.

Unable to shake it.

It hadn’t been long before he had known something was up.

That it was something besides that urge to get away from it all, to wander, that kept him sticking with her.

That along the way, the idea of this stranger having his back became comforting. That he knew he had hers - even if he half-thinks she have a death wish, with the way she rushs into things half-cocked.

He can’t understand, but he tries. The bits he’s gleaned from late nights - passing the bottle of whisky back and forth even though it makes her grimace. The pieces of her past that have slowly been revealed, forming a half-completed picture.

It’s enough to make his blood boil, that scorching feeling of vengeance curling in his chest, eating up his insides. It’s been a long time since he felt that way - making him think back to the night where he had stained his hands with all that red.

He’d do it again, for her.

It’s that realization made him think that just maybe - he cares.

And not just in a friendly kind of way.

He thinks it began in the middle of a firefight.

Bullet whizzing past their heads. A nest of raiders flowing out from a jutting wreck of scaffolding they had missed.

Several downed already, lost among the ruins. A souped-up pistol in her hand, as the other shielded shrapnel from a hand-made grenade.

Missing the two that snuck up, flanking them.

He had taken one down. A nasty shot to the gut, the Raider gurlging as his legs gave out. Her shot going wide - he can still remember the look on her face as she reached for the gun on her back.

The other Raider taking the moment to bowl him over, a padded shoulder to the chest. Knocking them both against a piece of metal fencing that creaked under their weight - his shotgun clattering to the pavement.

An arm pressed against his throat, choking him - as the other fumbled for a knife. Ironic, he thought, that he’d be gutted, after all he’s done.

But she had swooped down. Fingers twisted around the barrel and forestock of her rifle. Bringing it down on the raiders head like it was a louisville slugger, snarling like she herself had gone feral.

Her hand, warm in his as she hauled him up, the other splaying across his chest. Face streaked with grease and splattered with blood but in that moment, she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

“Thanks, sunshine.” He had murmured.

Her smile had been small, as she pressed the gun back into his hand, “Can’t have you getting stabbed. I’d miss that mouth of yours.”

Such a small thing - her own joke. The way he filled the space with chatter on the road. But he’d been smitten.

He had been good looking, before. He wasn’t half-bad now. Charisma could get you a long way, and his silver tongue hadn’t rotted like the rest of him.

Charming words - flirty and sometimes filthy - slid easily from him in the heat of battle, the wind-down after. When he was feeling good about things, the words coming without thought.

Choking on them, when she turned to give him a look - embarrassed, sometimes. So goddamn cute and flustered, it made him want to do it more.

Other times - a look, that was soft and lingering.

“Yeah?”

Almost a challenge in the way she said it.

He could never follow it up.

Follow through.

Because back home, it wasn’t an issue. A rejection meant nothing other than a soft blow to his ego. Brushed off with a hit of a favorite indulgence, finding company in another.

But here - it had a weight. It could ruin something he truly has enjoyed. Throwing in with her had been one of the best decisions he had made. He couldn’t fuck that up. Not this time.

So he swallowed his words - before she was racing off, and he was following at her heels. Off to trouble that could be their last, and here he was - that clever tongue tied in a knot.

That’s when he knew that he had it bad.

Bad enough that out of the two of them, he had been the one peering up at the sky overhead. Where the muted hazy grey was rolling into a sickly green, rain starting to drop down. A rumble of thunder.

The first to suggest stopping at the next place they could, as the spaces between the raindrops started to dwindle.

“We can make it.” She had shrugged, as his jog slowed to a walk.

Catching her arm at the elbow, gesturing with the muzzle of his shotgun to the side.

“Not if you don’t want to end up like me, sister.”

Ignoring - but not missing - the chastising look she shot him. His head tilting towards the roof that looms just over the ridge.

An old diner - rusting chrome and shattered windows, but it would do. Well past soaked by the time they scrambled over the hill and down. Grateful to find that it was abandoned.

Picked over, for sure - but as long as there was a roof over their heads, he hadn’t cared. Combing through junk was her thing, anyways. He was just the pack mule.

Now - he’s multi-tasking. Trying not to think about what he’s thinking about.

About her changing in the room behind him. Peeling the patchwork raider gear off her curves. All that soft, smooth skin underneath.

Distracting himself by eyeing the radroach that is skittering across the pavement outside the front door - just out of range of his shotgun.

Because of course, out of everything in the wasteland, that was the thing she was scared of. Not super mutants, not even the pack of mirelucks that had them cornered, just the week before.

A goddamn bug.

He laughs, a soft hushed thing. Catching himself with a grimace.

Because, like he said.

He’s fucked.

The rain that patters overhead would be calming - if it had been 200 years ago, and not dripping with radiation.

She shivers, draping the tattered pants and worn shirt over the back of two rotting, wooden chairs - a makeshift drying rack. Missing that insulated warmth of her Vault Suit, trading it back at Sanctuary for worn clothes - old and salvaged Raider gear.

It had become hard to blend in, in all that blue.

It had made sense at the time, but in the dark and chilly backroom, she finds herself regretting it. Thinking that next time - she’ll pack it with her.

Trying to find the dampest parts of the packed gear to lay out, next. Lining up the bedroll next to the glow of the lantern.

Don’t need any more must or mold than there already was.

Pawing through her bag afterwards, coming up with something to pass for dinner. A can of cram, their only good fork wedged between two knuckles. A sweet roll split in two - the sticky crumbs clinging to her fingers as she nudged the door open.

Feeling vulnerable in the faded undergarments she wore underneath. Dreading facing him, not because of what he’ll say - that part, she is actually curious to hear.

She’d given up on the idea of modesty long ago. Traveling on the road and through the dirt and blood and grime will do that.

It was almost freeing.

No. It’s because - it makes her hope. Makes her think that dressing down might actually get him to notice her, in a way that’s more than the surface-level, flirty conversation she’s seen him have with dozens of people.

In the old world, maybe she’d wear a dress for him. Something red and cut low in the front - bare arms and legs.

Now, it’s faded cotton and vulnerability.

A “I can trust you like this” and a “Maybe if you like it, it will make me brave enough to ask.”

Rejection dressed like this would sting, surely. Even if it’s her fault, for having a crush on someone who doesn’t see her that way.

Her eyes linger on his back, where he stands watch. Where he hadn’t heard her open the door just yet, drifting to the other side of the counter to watch the rumbling, green storm roll in.

The tin clatters on the counter, drawing his attention. A flicker of lightning illuminating his profile as he turns, eyes widening.

Hancock’s eyes drop automatically. Quickly and then a slow drag - it’s like watching him after she’s taken a hit of Psycho.

Dark and glittering under her own careful watch, before they’re snapping back up, and he’s blinking.

Pulling himself back.

“Is that dinner?” He asks, clearing his throat when the words come out rough and low.

Her face falls, just for an instant. A small smile replacing it, as she scoops up the tin of cram before tossing it his way. He catches it neatly - popping the lid open, plucking the fork from her fingers.

She should have known better.

Hancock was just a flirt, never taking her bait. It was a good thing, she thought. Honorable, despite the grey that’s soaked into both of their moral codes.

He digs the fork in, breaking off a piece of the preserved meat. Handing the first bite to her, unable to help another quick look as he lowers himself to one of the stools that curves around the diner countertop.

Not that he hasn’t seen her before. Never quite this bare - but close enough, from the quick times they’ve had to change clothes.

It didn’t mean anything.

“So uh, what’s with the getup?” Hancock can’t resist asking, his tone deceptively light, “Or should I say, lack thereof?

“Clothes are soaked,” She snorts around the mouthful, trying to sound disinterested, “Besides, you’re always telling me it’s not good to let the rads soak in.”

He’s curious now, catching that slight edge. Not usually so defensive - that expression she makes when she’s flustered. It makes him want to nudge at it, poke at that little crack.

“Hey, you don’t hear me complain’, sister.” Hancock grins, taking the fork back, “That’s a real good look for you.”

Always a joke.

Her eyes roll as she sits down on the stool to his left, her knee knocking against his. The halves of sweet roll balanced on the curling, discarded tin, for after.

They share the makeshift dinner. Passing the fork back and forth, trying not to think about how easy it feels to be like this.

Companionable silence, beneath the rumbling, dark green sky. Tucked away and sheltered from the storm.

She stares out across the wasteland, lost in thought. Moving on to other things, already planning for the morning. If there’s any stops they need to make on the way back to Sanctuary.

While his eyes wander - a sideways glance that drifts down her form greedily, only to shift away when her own lift.

A breeze cuts through the building where windows once lived, making her shiver. Arms moving from the countertop to wrap around a bare middle, curling in on herself.

“You cold, sunshine?” He asks with concern, bringing her back.

She hadn’t noticed, but now she does. The chill starting to sink in, now that she’s not moving, not covered in the layers and padded armor.

Goosebumps raise on her skin. Arms crossing tighter across her chest, as her lips part to answer.

But Hancock is already shrugging off his maroon frock, swiveling in his seat to swing it around her shoulders.

She rarely seen him without it. Fuck, he even sleeps in the damn thing - a prized possession, if he ever had one.

“Thanks.” The word is layered with sincerity, as she pulls it close around her, the high collar brushing her cheek.

Warmer already. The inside is soft against her skin, the fabric worn and stained and smelling like him.

Silence lingers for a moment, as they stare at the darkening sky. The heavy blanket of rain that still patters on the rooftop, a slow drip down to the tile floor on the other side of the room.

"Hope this lets up by morning," She says as she leans, warmer now - elbows pressing into the stained laminate counter.

Eyes out of focus, thoughts already running off without her. "Stop by Sanctuary, pick up some things for Tenpines. Haven't been there in a bit, been wondering how they've been holding up."

He mirrors her - feeling bare without his coat. A heavy lean on his left elbow, the swivel of the chair bumping his knee against hers, "’m sure they're fine. Gotta be better off than they were before."

A smirk crosses his features, a glance from the corner of his eye, "'Sides, not every day you get saved by the fearless leader of the Minutemen. That oughta keep 'em going for a while."

There's a groan as she slumps, the heels of her hands pressing into her eyes. Garvey's enthusiasm and her recent promotion to General a source of embarrassment, even if she bore the weight of it well.

"Yes, the fearless leader," She mocks, her head turning his way. Pushing herself up, her arms spreading wide, "If only they could see me now."

And they might not be able to, but he can.

Not just the soft expanse of her skin, peeking out from beneath his coat. The hollow of her throat, the curve of her breast and the strain of her tits against worn fabric that will be forever seared into his mind.

Not only just that, though. That something that he can see inside her - that was there when he had decided to leave Goodneighbor. That lingers with him, tethering them together as he follows at her side. And yes, he does stretch the truth - who doesn’t? He wouldn’t make half as many deals, otherwise.

But he’s isn’t, now.

She is unaware of the thoughts that tumble through his mind, quick as old snapshots. A curling amber film strip, tucked into a canister.

Instead, there’s a roll of her eyes as her comment of "really, only you could pull this coat off" lands on ears that had been muted, in the way his mind drifts. How the low pooling of warmth in his belly turns sharp and cramps, at the thought of Preston Garvey spending time in such company. Like this - without him.

"I wouldn’t say that." He hears himself saying. Voice a little lower, raspier, than usual.

Maybe it's bravery. Maybe it's him finally seeing her intent - maybe it's the moment where he's realizing that after tonight, she's no longer just his again.

His eyes drag over her again, slower this time. And he lets her catch them.

"From here, things are looking pretty good."

She stills, eyes rounding. A swivel of her chair until knee-to-knee becomes thigh-to-thigh- something akin to hope slipping into her tone.

“Yeah?”

He reaches - fingers tracing the collar of his coat, thumb rubbing against the hollow of her throat.

“I’d say so.” Hancock tells her, “Look like a goddamn dream, if I’m being honest.”

She’s tired of waiting. She’s done enough of it. Eyes on his as her chin tilts up, just hovering.

He’s tired, too.

With a lean, he takes the offering. Ruined lips press against soft ones. Ones that part for him, a soft sound at the greedy dart and swipe of his tongue, until she’s meeting him.

She’s sweet - he can taste the sugar on her tongue, melding with the taste of her. Fingers press against his chest, where his heart hammers. Sliding over lithe shoulders until they’re wrapping around, pulling him closer.

He’s stronger than he looks. The seat squeaks when he leans, his palms tracing her waist, her hips. Tucking beneath her thighs - right against the curve of her ass as Hancock lifts his hips, taking her with him.

She moves, his name a soft sound in her throat. Letting him lead, letting him ease her onto the edge of the counter. A sense of relief and hope floods through her, dripping down to settle warm and wanting between the thighs that spread open so he can step between them.

His cock swells, where it’s trapped inside his pants. Easing the ache with a roll of his hips, pressing himself against the thin fabric covering her core. The breath she inhales in response is shaky. Another soft sound, so different than the assured tone he’s used to.

He wants to hear it again.

It’s easy to set the pace - the pointed press of his hips. Her hand finding his, drawing it up to her breast. Letting him cup her, the soft weight. Letting him press his thumb against that tight peak, catch it between his fingers until she’s gasping against his grinning mouth.

Her mouth drops, catching his chin. The tip of a tongue between parted lips press against his cheek, warmth breath against his jaw making him growl.

“Please-” She’s murmuring, against his skin. Against muscle and sinew, as his own lips follow.

Fingers biting into his skin, as his teeth graze her jaw. Her head tilting back, baring her throat to him, as her hips rock to meet his. Eyes fluttering shut as her chest heaves, as his other hand curls against the curve of her hip, keeping her close.

His tongue peeks out, dragging against sweat and rain-dewed skin. A groan rattles in his throat, his own voice distant and rasping.

“Fuck, I need to taste you.” He can feel her moan, against his lips at his words, “Lean back for me, doll.”

She’s soft, pliable. Unwinding herself from him as she obeys, only for those hazy eyes to open - meeting his beetle-black ones.

“Wait,” She’s protesting, hands slipping to press flat against on his chest. A sudden realization - shoulder curling back so his coat slides off it, “Let me take this off.”

“Leave it.” Hancock’s head lifts to kiss her again, his hand curling around the back of her neck.

She huffs against his mouth, before it turns into a sigh. His tongue brushing against her lower lip, before she pulls back again.

Not wanting to forget her train of thought.

“What if I make a mess on your coat?”

He groans at that, the hand on her hip drifting lower. Cupping her over the thin piece of fabric, fingers pressing down.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He husks, “I’d fuckin’ love that. Never gonna take it off.”

It makes her scoff, cheeks burning, “You never do, anyways. You-”

He shuts her up with his fingers - tugging at the elastic waistband, pulling them down until she’s bare. Letting her kick them off, before he’s pushing her back against the counter.

Arching over her soft form as his mouth wanders, his hips grinding against hers. Teeth nipping at her throat, lips brushing where her heartbeat flutters. Clever fingers tracing the seam of her sex, brushing over soft lips - teasing.

She’s so fucking wet, he can feel how his fingers glide over her skin. How it smears on her thighs, as they spread wider for him.

“What do you want?”

It makes her sigh - that voice, so low and rasping - and she’s clenching around nothing already.

“You,” She’s unable to help but whine, “Please, you-”

His laugh is rough, a rattling chuckle in his throat, “You have me, sunshine.”

Middle finger parting her, teasing at her entrance, the calloused pad of his thumb circling around the bud of her clit. Sinking into the wet heat as she groans, starting a slow pump of his textured finger.

Pressing deep with a slow thrust. Another, and then another, until she’s taking a second. Stretching her wide, as her fingers twist in his stained shirt. Grasping for his shoulders as her hips buck into his touch.

“Should say how do you want it?” The kiss he presses against her throat is almost reverent, “Because I don’t think I have it in me to go slow right now.”

“Slow, later.,” She moans, as his fingers press deep, “Need you.”

He grins, “Love how you think, sweetheart.”

Hancock’s head ducks, moving down to her collarbone, then lower. She’s already reaching to tug the cups of her bra down, baring the curves of her breasts to him.

“Fuckin’ beautiful.” He hums, fingers brushing over the soft weight again, cupping one in his hand. Still fucking her open with the other, curling and stroking until she’s panting.

Tongue peeking out to flatten, and then drag across the tight peak of her nipple. Her hands grasping for him again, as there’s the briefest pinch of teeth.

“Hancock.” She grits out, a swivel of her hips against his, grinding into his fingers.

His own rocking against the back of his hand, where he’s hard and aching. Never thinking he’d know what it’s like to have his partner begging like this.

He wants to hear more. Every little sound she makes, as his mouth moves lower. Licking wet stripes against her stomach and abdomen.

Until he’s plunking down on the padded chrome stool he’s been straddling. Gazing at where she’s wrapped around his glossy fingers.

Watching how she twitches and bucks and gasps when his thumb swipes across her clit, his name on parted lips again.

“Love hearin’ you say my name like that.” He purrs, “Can’t wait to hear how it sounds when you come.”

Leaning forward, inhaling her scent before his tongue swipes above his fingers. Her hips leave the countertop, the moan loud as he laughs - his other hand pressing flat against her stomach.

Holding her down, as he teases her again. Short, pointed licks against her throbbing clit. Her cunt is as sweet as her mouth, his own groan caught in his throat as his tongue dips inside her.

Mourning all the nights he could have spent like this. Spending the time as evening turns to night, then again as night turns to dawn. Drowning in the taste of her instead of clenching his teeth until his jaw aches, as he tries to keep quiet. Dreaming of this.

He leans back, just enough to press a wet kiss against her clit. The soft suck a sharp contrast with the texture of his rough fingers as he fucks her open.

She was right - it’s messy. Dripping down the curve of her thighs, the damp stain mixing with others on his weathered coat.

Everything is so dry, in the wasteland. Dirt roads and dead trees. He relishes in the wet suck of her cunt, how it’s this way right now because of him.

His cheeks hollow, a swirl of his tongue before he’s adding to it. Leaning back to let his spit drip down, his thumb dragging it across the tight bud.

She’s whimpering. It’s been ages since she’s had anyone - the low throb in her belly swiftly building.

In the before - she thinks she’d be embarrassed to be splayed out like this. Stripped near-bare on the counter of a diner, thighs spread wide as his fingers pump into her aching cunt.

But he eats her like a meal, left hand moving from her belly. Wrapping around a thigh to tug her closer, hiking it over a shoulder.

Groaning into her pussy as his tongue flicks against her clit, smearing slick across his chin. Pressing closer, unhindered by the usual curve of cartilage and flesh as he molds himself against her.

“Hancock.” His name is a sharp gasp, as she clenches around him. Breath held in her throat as she watched with half-lidded eyes.

Focused on the tight string that winds with each careful curl of his fingers. He slips in a third and she all but sobs, chasing her pleasure with a needy rock of her hips.

Chanting him name as it curls low in her belly.

“Hancock. Hancock-”

And then, the prettiest of all.

“John. Fuck, John, I’m going to come-”

It’s goddamn music to his metaphorical ears. Better than that - better than the sing of gunfire in his favor, of the sweet rush and hum of that first hit of Jet.

He watches through those dark eyes as she falls apart. Her cry loud in the empty diner, as she’s struck - the livewire crackle of her orgasm ripping through her.

Better than she can ever remember. Thighs squeeze around his neck but it only makes him moan - breath hot against her cunt as his fingers continue to pump. And his tongue dips to taste her, slipping between knuckles.

The pleasure throbs - the stained ceiling spinning, looking like the clouded stars high above them to her hazy mind.

A disbelieving and dazed laugh caught in her throat as his mouth moves. Pressing against her mound, the sensitive curve where thigh meets hip.

It’s only then that she’s unhooking her thighs - a heat blazing in her cheeks at the brazenness. Too caught up in the moment to see herself - splayed out across the countertop, heels digging into his spine.

But she does see him - the need etched across his face under the tip of his hat, the wet shine against his lips and chin. Deadly in a new kind of way, mixing with the prowess he shows on the battlefield.

There’s another low throb, deep inside her. The lithe way he moves, rising - a hand planting next to her hip, the other working the heavy buckle open.

She meets him - pushing herself up. A hand coming to cup him, feeling the hard length that strains against his trousers. Tasting herself on his tongue when her head ducks to kiss him, swallowing his groan as her fingers palm and squeeze.

“Drivin’ me crazy, sunshine.” His voice is like gravel, as he works at the zipper - her fingers slipping past to wrap around hot skin, “Enough to make a ghoul go feral, you know that?”

Her smile is pretty - pleasure-drunk, and he hasn’t even fucked her yet. Her hand soft and warm where she eases him out, the brush of her thumb over the head making his cock throb.

“Me too. I need you.” She begs, and he knows it’s more than that just that.

That it’s not just fucking, right now. That a line has been crossed, that they’ll never be able to not want this again. More than ready to tumble over into the unknown, together.

“My mouth wasn’t enough?” Hancock grins. Fully intending to have her every way she’ll let him. Unable to resist making her squirm.

The look she gives him makes him chuckle - the gentle pull of her fist, the little frown. The way her thighs spread again, aiming the flushed tip of his cock over slick skin. Against the tight nub of her clit as she shivers, lips parting with a gasp.

“Hancock, don’t tease-” Some of that bite is back, desperate. Not begging but it’s close, as her hips lift against him again.

“I’ll give you anything you want.” He promises, “Just like hearing you say it. Come on, sweetheart.”

It’s hard to hold himself back, when she’s notching him against her opening. His hands sliding to her hips, liking the way his fingers sink into her skin.

How it dents around his calloused ones, soft as the rest of her.

“Fuck me.” Her eyes are on his, watching where they drag from his fingers to her pussy. Watching how his chest heaves beneath his vest, where his chest peeks from loosened buttons.

“I need you in me. I need you to fuck me, I want to come on your cock-”

“Fuck.” He groans, and then his hips are snapping forward. Feeling the tight, warm squeeze as he buries himself in her, as she cries out at the intrusion.

“Goddamn, sunshine.” He has to hold himself there for a moment, hilted inside her. Feeling the way she clenches down around him, fingers mirroring it where they wrap in his shirt.

Almost sharing a breath as he inches out, only to press deep again. Again, and then again - until there’s the slick slap, the creak of the floorboards beneath his heavy boots as his feet spread wider.

It’s better than his fingers. He’s deeper, filling her completely, stealing her breath. Those hands tugging at her hips, urging her to meet each thrust, as he picks up speed.

Hearing the changes in her pretty sounds - the gasps and the scrape of fingernails against his skin. Spearing her on his cock, where she can feel the worn and rough ridges gliding against a spot that has been sighing.

But, he wants more. Wants her like before - splayed out. At his mercy, in a way that he knows she’d only do for him. Knowing that she trusts him - wondering if he would be worried that the thought makes his cock jerk inside her.

“Give me your hands.” He rasps - and slowly, her finger uncurl from the edge of the counter, the vice-like grip on his shirt.

Hancock grasps at her wrists, joining them together with one of his own. Pushing her back, dragging them above her head and pressing them down hard against the countertop.

Arching over her as his eyes sweep over soft curves and bare skin. His coat spread out beneath her, the worn red so pretty next to her skin. Better than his best fantasy, and he’s already thinking about a next time.

The choked out “oh!” she makes with the next rock of his hips shoots straight to his cock - knowing full-well she could break free if she wanted.

Instead, she lets him take.

Giving up the control as he ruts into her, spearing his cock deep again and again. Trying to meet the messy swipe of his fingertips that drifted down to press against the bundle of nerves - her pleasure in his hands.

“Look good like this, sunshine.” His eyes drag over her breasts, still shining from his tongue.

“Real fuckin’ good.”

Down to where her thighs tighten around his hips, arching into him, “Should keep you like this all the time. Just in my coat. Wear it better than I do.”

A sharp edge to his voice, one that fuels the aching pressure that builds and builds. Her head thunks back against the laminate counter, eyes falling shut.

The words starting slow, growing louder, then running together.

“Feels so good-”

“Hancock don’t stop. Oh my god-”

There’s an electricity in the air that has nothing to do with the storm. His hand biting into her wrists so hard that it hurts, but the pain only loops into her mounting pleasure.

It’s different than his dalliances before.

Before, it had filled his time. Finding someone to spend the night with a couple times a week, enjoying the shared company with another.

That frequency dwindling after they joined up, though he hadn’t been the type to stop. He just no longer had the time, that same desire.

Finding that he no longer focused on chasing his own pleasure. His interest shifting - until there was only one face that drifts through his mind, in the stolen moments at night when his hand slipped beneath his trousers.

Embracing the crave of a new kind of addiction, the urge hooking its claws into his brain.

“Say my name again.” He tells her, feeling his own release winding and tightening. Trying to stave it off, as he tries to think about anything else, “Fuckin’ scream it for me.”

Her eyes are on his when she says it.

“John.”

First soft, and then pitching up - louder.

And in the moment, he’s just John. The John before and the John now, man and ghoul and so focused on the circle of his fingers, on her cries.

It’s too much - all she can do is lean into it. Never realizing how much she’d like letting go for him, knowing that just like in the Wasteland, he had her.

Always liking his quips and rasping tone but never experiencing it like this - honey-sweet and hungry.

Learning so quickly what she likes - how quick he was to adjust the angle, the slick swirl of his fingers.

His name is on her lips again as he brings her over the brink. More like a prayer this time, her body stringing taut beneath him, eyes wide. Mouth rounding on a high gasp as the pleasure shudders through her, radiating up her spine and down her limbs.

Seeming to reach across from where they’re joined, that steady rhythm stuttering as she flutters tight and warm around him.

“Fuck. Fuck, sunshine. You feel so fucking good, gonna make me come-” His teeth grit, a silent question.

Her answer coming in the way her thighs tighten around him. Keeping him pressed deep inside her, until his thrusts turn short and sloppy.

“Oh, fuck yes.” His grin is closer to a snarl, “Thank you-”

His fingers bite into her hip. Her name hissed through clenched teeth as the pressure builds, before spilling over.

As his hips rut until he’s pressed as deep as he can, a choked groan as he comes. His cock twitching with each throb of his orgasm, as he fills her. Emptying himself into her heat - until she’s milked him dry. Until he slows, leaving himself buried, deep and warm.

His eyes drop, as he comes back down. Where she’s watching, just as hungry as he was.

Leaving them staring at each other. His back arched over where his hand has slipped. Loosening on her wrist, until her fingers has twined with his.

There’s no going back.

His cock hangs heavy between his thighs. It’s night - dark now, but the flickering of lightning following the peals of thunder cast green shadows over her body. Eyes drifting up to where the rain patters on the metal roof.

A languid exhale, breathing out the smoke from the cigarette he fished out of the coat pocket. Dangling between two fingers, the cherry gleaming in the dim light.

Then back down, to where she still rests - beautifully drowsy and limp-limbed. Thighs still parted, where she gleams with him.

He’s certain he’ll be dripping into those clothes of hers for days.

It does something to him, an interested twitch from his cock. Stepping closer to fit himself back between those thighs, where they close to bracket his hips again.

“Didn’t you say somethin’ ‘bout slow, later?” Hancock asks, his hand petting down a hip, thumb brushing against her skin.

Stubbing the rest of his smoke out on the counter, letting it fall to the tile below.

Her smile is sweet as she pushes herself up. No use leaving while the storm raged on - and she’s pretty sure the bedroll was well on its way to dry by now.

Fingers catch on the collar of his ruffled shirt, starting to push it from his shoulders. His own hands tugging at her, until he pressed snug against her again.

“Mm. Is it later, now?” She asks - as more of him is a bared - her hands running across rough skin.

Hancock grins.

“I sure as hell hope so.”

I know this dropped out of nowhere for a 9 year old game but I can’t get the mayor out of my mind 💕 thanks for reading!!!

#the tags on this are going to sound cursed ->#john hancock x reader #John Hancock x sole #John Hancock x Sole Survivor #hancock x sole survivor #hancock x reader #john hancock #fallout 4

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stylesloveclub · 9 months

Text

sunshine (part 2)

In which Harry's a little bit nicer, and y/n is very excited to possibly, hopefully, maybe be kissed.

sunshine (part 1)

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Y/n’s apartment is filled with a bunch of people she doesn’t know. Maddie has a bunch of people over – not really a party, but a fairly large gathering. A few of her school friends, a couple of her co-workers…. nobody that y/n is really close with, though.

That’s why she locked herself in her room, away from the music and the stuffy, smoke-filled air. She said her polite hello and everything, of course! But… she just wasn’t in the mood to hang out with Maddie’s friends. They weren’t really y/n’s type of people, and the smell of weed is giving her a terrible headache.

She bunches up her hair in her fists as she stares at the math problem in front of her. She had been able to do integrals just fine with Harry, but when you add trig into the equation? She’s thoroughly fucked. Not even The Organic Chemistry Tutor could help her work through this problem.

A knock on her door makes her jump. “Come in,” she says politely, though her brows are still furrowed grumpily as she stares at the calculus in front of her.

“S’this room taken?” a deep voice murmurs.

She whips her head around, heart fluttering excitedly in her chest. “Harry,” she says softly. “What are you doing here?”

“Maddie invited Blake,” he says, sitting down on her bed. “And Blake invited me.”

Oh. She should’ve known.

She rolls away from her desk and faces Harry, who’s making himself more than comfortable on her bed, laying down with his head on her pillow. “Smells like shit out there,” he grunts.

“Yeah,” she shrugs. She’s accepted that her apartment will always reek of weed, no matter how hard she tries to get rid of the smell. “Did you smoke anything with them?” she asks.

“No, not in the mood.” Honestly, the only reason he decided to come over with Blake was because he knew that he’d be able to go chill in y/n’s room. Hanging out in Maddie’s smelly apartment was the last thing he wanted to do on a Thursday night, but… he knew y/n would be there, sitting quietly in her room like the good girl she is. “Did you?”

“No.” She fiddles with her fingers. “I– I don’t smoke.”

He snorts. “You don’t smoke but you live with Maddie?” Maddie cannot survive two seconds without her vape. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“The smell of it gives me a headache,” she tries to explain.

“Your apartment literally always smells like weed,” he deadpans.

She blinks. “Yeah…” she trails off quietly. “If I close my door though the smell isn’t that bad.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “What are you working on?” he asks, pointing to the textbook sitting on her desk.

“Um– math.” His lips quirk up, while she pouts. “S’not making sense again.”

“Lemme see,” he says, sitting up. She looks at him for a second, not moving, but when he nods towards her ipad again she scrambles to pick it up and sit next to him on the bed.

“So, what were you going to try and do?” he asks, grabbing her pen. She’s hyper aware of how their thighs are touching, how she can practically feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Um… I feel like I need to use one of the trig rules here but I can’t think of any that would do anything here.”

“Okay you’re right… the issue is that none of your sins or cosins fit any of the rules. But you can break cos^3x down into cos^2x times cosx, right?”

“Okay…” she looks up at him like a lost puppy, still not fully getting it.

“Do you have any trig identities with cos^2x?”

“Um…” she shuffles through her notes, “ cos^2x equals 1 minus sin^2x?”

He nods his head, “yeah. So now that everything is in terms of sin, you can do a u-sub.”

“Oh,” she blinks quietly, staring down at the paper. “Why’s it so easy when you explain it?”

He shrugs, leaning back down onto her bed, “y’just need a lot of practice.”

The bottom of his shirt rises up as he puts his hands behind his head, revealing a pair of black ferns that point towards a yummy v-line. Y/n tries her best not to look, but she’s reminded of the night where she showed up to his apartment to pick up Maddie… how he’d been shirtless, his abdomen so chiseled and firm. The swallows on his collarbones, the butterfly that seemed to jump with every breath. She finds herself getting a bit short of breath as she thinks about all of the things hidden beneath his shirt currently.

That’s the thing about being a touch-deprived, romantic girl like y/n. The littlest things get her going.

He was nice to her once, helped her with her math homework and comforted her when she cried, and now her heart flutters like crazy when she sees him. Just the smallest rise of Harry’s shirt has her spiraling.

She can’t help but notice the way his biceps bulge subtly as he puts his hands behind his head, and finds herself overwhelmed with the fact that this boy – an attractive boy – was just laying in her bed casually.

She knows it’s no big deal for Harry, he’s probably just in here because the living room stinks and he needs to clear his head. But for her, it’s a lot. She never has boys in her room, has never had a romantic interaction with a boy. Hasn’t even been kissed. It’s always just very friendly – getting notes from a guy in her class, joking around with some of Maddie’s friends. She’s never had a boy talk to her any more than that.

Harry, though… Harry comes into her room and talks to her even when there’s a whole party going on outside. He kept her company when she was stranded at his apartment, he took her home and took care of her when she was drunk and emotional. It probably meant nothing to him, but the way he grabbed her ankle and told her to lie down when he was helping her into bed was one of the most tender things she’s ever experienced. He put his hand on her waist, and held her arm while she stumbled, he’d guided her through the door with his hand on the small of her waist.

And when he saw her crying at the library, he came over and talked to her. Comforted her and let her rant about her classes. He’d let her into his room and helped her with her homework, murmured soft praises to her when she got a question right, his arm brushing against hers, or his chest rubbing against her shoulder.

The stupidest little things, that are probably so insignificant for him, have been on her mind for days.

“Hey,” Harry says, snapping her out of her daydreams. She tears her eyes away from his ferns embarrassedly, hoping he didn’t notice. “What are you thinkin’ about?”

She averts her eyes, looking down at her bedsheet. “Um, nothing.”

He quirks his brows. “Nothing?”

“Mhm,” she nods her head innocently.

‘Really?” he asks again, his lip twitching with the slightest hint of amusement, sitting up on his elbows now. He raises himself up so that they’re face to face. He’s not an idiot.

She bites her lip nervously, and her heart stops when Harry’s eyes flicker down to watch. He stares at her with a strange look in his eye… a glimmer in them that she’s only ever read about in books. His eyebrows furrow as though he’s deep in thought, eyes still glued to her lips.

She wonders if she’s hallucinating when he leans in.

She thought she was being silly for starting to feel things for him – that she was just being classic y/n, crushing on a guy even though she knows she’s too shy to ever make a move. Now, with how close he is, she can see every freckle on his tan skin, every lash that frames his bright green eyes. She breathes with a tight chest, swallowing thickly as her eyes flicker between his, wide and curious. His eyes still haven’t left her lips.

Her heart stutters as his large hand makes its way to her thigh, his palm warm and smooth, gently grazing her skin. He unconsciously inches closer and closer, incapable of pulling his eyes away from her mouth.

He wets his bottom lip with his tongue, a force of habit, and finally looks her in the eye. His irises have turned a dark green, pupils dilated, and his breathing has deepened. She has no idea what’s going on in his head, but he looks serious. Deep in thought. His hand still rests on her thigh, the contact sending sparks of electricity all over her body, especially when his fingers gently start to trail upwards.

Her eyes flutter shut as she tries to take deep, calm breaths, but he’s gotten so close that she can feel the puff of his breathing against her lips, inhaling his every exhale. It makes her lightheaded. He’s so close… so, so close…

A loud pounding on the door makes y/n jump away from him.

Her eyes are blown out when she jerks them open, her heart pounding harshly with anticipation that’s been left unsatisfied. “Who is it?” she calls out with a shaky voice.

Harry hasn’t moved an inch. He sits there and stares at her, hand still on her thigh.

“Is Harry in there?” Maddie yells. “Blake is ready to go.”

He brings a hand up and tugs on her bottom lip with his thumb, then watches it bounce back into place, hypnotizing himself with the sight. Y/n, unable to get any words out, sits there and watches him as he stares at her lips.

“Hellooo?” Maddie obnoxiously yells again.

Harry’s nose flares and he shuts his eyes, frustratedly pulling himself away from y/n. She says nothing, still in a daze, watching as he leaves her bed. He stands and runs a hair through his messy curls, before heading towards the door and opening it. Maddie stands in front of the door with her fist raised, ready to knock on the door again.

“Calm down,” he says, eyeing her coldly. Maddie rolls her eyes and walks away to tell Blake that she found Harry.

He turns around for a moment and glances at y/n. “See ya,” he says.

She blinks, her hand coming up to touch her lips, searching for some confirmation that this was real and she hadn’t imagined it. “Bye,” she nearly whispers, breathless.

The door shuts with a click and she finds herself alone with her thoughts. Her math homework sits abandoned on her bed, and will probably remain untouched for the rest of the night.

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Finally, y/n has Harry all to herself.

She’d been dancing around him all night, constantly catching his eye from across the room in a game of cat and mouse. He watched her from the corner of the room he was stationed in with his dark eyes, a teasing smirk on his face. He knew what she was doing – trying to distract him. It was working.

He watched her as she mingled and talked, watched as she sipped on her drink, watched as she weaved her way through the passes of people in her apartment, pushing past the hot bodies and sweaty skin until she disappeared in her room.

He followed her in, less than a minute later.

She hears him walk into the room, the sound of him turning the lock and his heavy footsteps approaching her. A shiver runs down her spine when his hands grab her shoulders from behind, goosebumps rising on her arms almost instantaneously. His firm front pushes against her back, toned stomach pressed against the curve of spine.

His fingers are warm and gentle on her shoulders, comforting yet teasing at the same time. He doesn’t hold her firmly – his featherlight touch more tantalizing than any other form of contact. These light, delicate brushes of his skin keep her on her toes, never knowing what to expect next. She holds her breath as his fingers travel from her shoulders, down the length of her arms.

Suddenly, she feels his lips against her ear. She can’t help the soft, aroused breath that leaves her as his lips skim the shell of her ear. He chuckles, low and taunting, and she can feel the deep reverberations of his chest against her back.

“I’ve been waiting f’this,” he murmurs softly. His warm breath tickles her ear, sending waves of pleasure straight down to her core, and his hands have migrated from her arms to her hips now. He grips them, fingers digging into the soft flesh there, and pulls her back, grinding her into his front. She swallows a whimper down, eyes fluttering shut. A hard bulge presses against her ass, and she can’t resist the urge to press back on it, wriggle her hips even though Harry’s holding her still. “You’ve been teasing me…” he presses a kiss right underneath her earlobe. “Playing all innocent when I know you’re actually filthy.” Another kiss, and another kiss, trailing his lips down the curve of her neck.

She lets out a pathetic, shaky whimper, and it makes him chuckle tauntingly. “Your head is just filled with dirty thoughts, isn’t it?” Her knees go weak as he wraps a hand around her throat, tilting her head to the side so that he can look at her. “Bet you’re just dying for me to fuck you.”

Her eyes are wide and round, and her entire body turns into jelly. The only reason she’s standing right now is because Harry’s holding her up. She can’t get any words out, pathetically wrapped around his finger. She looks up at him with a pleading gaze, begging him to do something… anything…

The sound of her 8 AM alarm yanks her straight out of dreamland.

Her eyes are bleary as she frantically looks around her bed, gathering her bearings. She has to triple check that Harry isn’t anywhere in her room – looking at every corner and patting around her sheets as well – before she can confirm that it was all a dream.

Oh gosh. This is like the third time this week!

She doesn’t mean to be having these dreams. It's a rather embarrassing situation for her and she honest to god would much rather just read a couple of steamy romance books about fictional vampires to get the horniness out of her system, instead of having repeated wet dreams about a very real Harry.

They make her feel icky because, like– isn’t it a bit disrespectful to be having such dirty thoughts about someone who’s just been helping her with her math homework and potentially also kissing her had they not been interrupted? Like what are the boundaries there? You can’t really ask someone for consent to having wet dreams about them… but it’s not like she was consenting to those dreams either! She can’t control what her subconscious mind decides to stir up for her nightly dream!

She tries to logic it out – how would she feel if Harry was having wet dreams about her? Well… actually the thought of it makes her a little bit excited, cos that would mean he likes her, right? Ugh, no, she’s getting distracted!

It’s all very typical horny virgin behavior. Ever since her almost kiss with Harry, her mind has been in shambles. Her first issue is trying to wrap her head around the entire thing – had Harry actually wanted to kiss her? She hadn’t made that up, right?

She’s replayed the night a hundred times in her head. Remembers exactly how his hand felt on her thigh, how he’d stared at her lips, how their eyes had fluttered shut, how their noses brushed… all the things she’s read about in her books! All the ingredients for a first kiss!

How tragic that it’d been interrupted. She thinks that’s why her brain has been overly active this past week – her subconscious has been trying to fulfill the insatisfaction she felt when she jumped away from Harry, just seconds before their lips touched. It feels like she’s been edged over and over again and been denied an orgasm five times – but the orgasm is her first kiss and she’s being edged by Maddie, who stole that kiss away by knocking on her door!

She flops around in her bed frustratedly, smushing her face into her pillow with a sad groan. What if Harry doesn’t wanna kiss her the next time he sees her? What if this was a one time opportunity? She doesn’t want to sound desperate… but she really wanted to kiss Harry! She’d be really sad if it was just a whim of the moment kinda thing.

But also… if it wasn’t just a one time thing… if he did actually want to kiss her… well how was she gonna end up in the situation to be kissed by him again?

She’s thinking about this way too hard, way too early in the morning. And she’s uncomfortably wet from her dream.

She needs to get herself sorted out.

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The chair in front of y/n screeches loudly as it’s pulled from under the table she’s sitting at. She jumps at the sound of it, having been too engrossed in her book to be aware of what’s going on around her. When she looks up, she finds Harry standing at her tiny table in the campus coffee shop.

“Can I sit here?” he asks, his jaw tight. He’s wearing a gray Kendrick Lamar hoodie with the words DAMN. written in bold font across the front, his curly hair messily hidden underneath. All the other tables in the shop were taken (it tends to get pretty busy at noonish when everyone needs somewhere to sit and study), and Harry needs somewhere to sit before his next lecture.

She nods, eyes wide like a baby sheep. It’s quite jarring to just randomly see the guy you’ve been having sexy dreams about – especially for someone like y/n who apparently can’t be normal about having a crush or having an almost first kiss. She hopes she’s acting normal enough to not raise any suspicion.

Trying to not get distracted by his green eyes and pretty pink lips, y/n looks down at the table, but finds herself instead staring at Harry’s hands. He has nice hands, she thinks to herself. The cross tattoo on his left hand compliments his tan skin nicely, and he has these thick knuckles that she just wants to run her fingers over. In one of his hands he holds a coffee cup, and even though she and him both got a medium sized coffee, his drink looks smaller, dwarfed in his massive hands. His thumb is fingering the lid of his drink mindlessly, and she remembers how that same thumb had touched her lips just over a week ago… how he’d tugged on her bottom lip and hypnotized himself with the sight of it bouncing back into place. And while she’s on that train of thought, she can’t help but remember how his hands portrayed such a significant role in her dream last night. Hadn’t she imagined them being wrapped around her throat–?

Harry clears his throat. Y/n glows with heat. She has absolutely no capability of being normal around him. “Sorry, what?” She hadn’t heard a word he’d said in the past minute, too caught up in her own thoughts.

He smirks. Is she always this distracted? “Just asked how it’s going.”

“Oh! Oh, yeah– good, I’m good,” she closes the book, folding the corner of the page she’s on as a bookmark. “How about you?”

He shrugs. “Just got out of class. Needed a coffee.”

“What’d you get?”

“Just a black coffee.”

She can’t stop herself from wrinkling her nose, “Ew.”

He quirks a brow, “Well what’d you get?” “Vanilla latte with oat milk.” Yeah. She would be an oat milk girl.

Considering their recent frequency in seeing each other and his newfound… fondness towards her, he doesn’t find it difficult to start picking and prodding at her, getting to know her. He realizes Blake was right – she wasn’t a super duper shy girl, she probably had just been scared of him. Once he started talking to her and smiling every once in a while, it seems like she loosened up. What used to be painfully awkward conversations have now become free flowing and casual.

He picks up the book she was reading and reads the cover. “Book Lovers by Emily Henry. Awfully fitting for you.”

She furrows her brow, already offended. She hates it when people make fun of her books – especially boys who make fun of her for reading romance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a book lover, aren’t you? Can never find you without your nose in a book.”

She relaxes. “Oh… yeah,” a soft chuckle escapes her. “Yeah, I guess I’m a book lover.”

“You think I’d like this one?” he asks, flipping through the first few pages.

“Um… maybe.” She can’t imagine Harry being a huge fan of her soft romance books. “Are you a reader?”

“God, no,” he puts the book down. “Not smart enough for that.”

Her jaw drops. “You are totally smart, Harry! Way smarter than me!” she exclaims.

“M’just good at math,” he shrugs, “You’re little miss smartie, with your color coded notes. Reading your books for fun.”

She grows shy. Part of her thought that Harry thought she was stupid – not the over-emotional-girl-who-cries-too-much kind of stupid, but rather the kind of stupid that makes you wonder how she even got into this school because she’s doing so bad in math.

It was a massive hit to her girlboss mentality when she had to ask Harry for help, and even though Harry never actually made her feel dumb when answering her questions… she just had this mean voice in the back of her head that constantly nagged her, convincing her that Harry thought she was a stupid girl who should just give up and drop out. And ignoring that voice is really hard, so… it was just nice to hear that he didn’t think she was a stupid little baby. It made that mean voice in her head shut up.

“Um… by the way. My next calc midterm is next Friday. I was wondering if, um…” she tucks her hair behind her ear nervously.

He fills in the rest for her. “Do you want to revise together this weekend?”

“If it’s not too much trouble,” she says bashfully. “Your tutoring is super helpful.”

“You can come over on Saturday,” he sips on his coffee. “No trouble.”

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“Is this right?” Y/n shows her work to Harry, and he nods. They’re both on his bed, except Harry’s lying down with his head on a pillow, scrolling through tiktok, while y/n’s hunched over her ipad. She’s been doing practice problems for the past three hours, asking Harry for help every once in a while. That's how it’s been most of the night – her study session is mostly just him checking her work to make sure she’s not doing anything funky and giving her hints if she’s stuck.

She’s studied a lot in the past two weeks and luckily doesn’t need Harry to be guiding her through every problem, which makes her really happy. And she’s only gotten a couple of the practice problems wrong! Some of them were particularly tricky and had her stumped, but that’s why she has Harry. He helped her out of roadblocks and kept her motivated. Without him here, she probably would’ve given up after the first question that she didn’t know how to solve.

“You should take a break,” he says.

She’d refused to take any breaks since she got here – determined to finish the practice test that her professor had posted while she had Harry next to her to help. Now that she finished all the problems, she locks her ipad and puts it on Harry’s bedside table. She leans back on one of Harry’s pillows and copies Harry, holding her phone above her face. Except instead of scrolling through tiktok, she opens up her kindle app and starts reading.

He sees the tiny font on her screen from the corner of his eye. “Reading?” he asks.

“Mhm,” she shuffles around on his bed, getting comfortable.

He thinks it’s kind of cute that she’s always reading. “Is it the same one as last time? Book Lovers?”

“No, I finished that one yesterday! This is by the same author though. S’called Beach Read.”

“What’s it about?” he turns off his own phone and sits up, turning to look down at y/n. Her hair is splayed across his pillows, and her eyes glimmer softly in his bedroom lighting.

She feels a little shy describing one of her favorite books to Harry – she’s often been ridiculed by her friends for being so lovey dovey and reading her silly romance books. But he seemed genuine when he asked. “Um– there are these two writers. The girl writes romance and the guy writes like these serious fiction books. And they’re kinda rivals.”

He hums. “Let me read a little bit,” he looks down at the screen of her phone. “I tightened my thighs around the sides of his body–” he reads aloud, before she yanks her phone out of his sight.

“No!” she yelps, turning her phone off and practically throwing it across the room. “You are not allowed to read it!”

He laughs, a fully amused belly laugh, and the sound is beautiful but she doesn’t allow herself to revel in it due to her embarrassment. “What are you reading?” he giggles.

“Oh my gosh,” she hides her face in her hands.

“Didn’t expect you to be reading such dirty stories,” he teases, “I thought you were a good girl.”

“It’s not all dirty!” she defends herself. “It’s– it’s sweet! It’s a love story… it’s romantic.” Her voice gets quiet near the end.

Harry’s laughter bubbles down and he’s left with a smirk on his face, while y/n lays in front of him, an embarrassed pout on her face. “M’only teasing,” he says as he reaches a hand out to rest on her thigh, not wanting her to look so sad. “Read whatever you want. Seems like a cute book, maybe I should pick it up, hm?”

Her mind goes a little blank when his hand meets her thigh, his palm warming her skin once more – just like that night he’d almost kissed her. “Y-yeah, you might like it,” she clears her throat. “S’one of my favorites.”

That same look glazes over Harry’s eyes – that dark look, as if he’s deep in thought.

She swallows thickly. Could this be it? Her second chance at a kiss with Harry?

She pushes herself up on her elbows, more alert. Her palms feel sweaty and she finds her fingers nervously toying with his comforter. A million thoughts are racing in her head as she searches Harry’s eyes, flickering back and forth, trying to see what he might be thinking of. He’s so hard to read. She feels like she’s drowning in his eyes.

Almost as if he can read her thoughts, he leans forwards. She hopes she doesn’t look like an over-eager puppy, but her eyes light up and practically beg him to come closer, to just kiss her! He smiles to himself a bit, and obliges.

With y/n laying on his bed, propped up by her elbows, and Harry already having been sat up on the bed, he doesn’t need to move that much closer for their faces to be aligned. He’s leaning over her, one hand holding him up, while the other hand comes up to her cheek.

She gasps when his large palm comes up to cup her face, his palm on her jaw and fingers sliding into her hair. He inches closer and closer, his eyes fluttering shut when his nose brushes against hers ever so lightly. She can feel the puff of his breathing against her lips, breathing in each of his exhales as she tries to stay calm. She forces her eyes shut, her entire body alive with butterflies.

He wets his bottom lip with his tongue, a force of habit, and nudges his nose against hers. She tilts her head to the side. He teases her for a second, gives her the chance to pull away by just grazing their lips together teasingly, and feels her sharp intake of breath at the contact. He can’t help but smirk against her lips.

With her eyes closed, she’s hyper aware of how it feels. The way his curls brush against her face… the warmth of his palm as he tilts her head upwards… the wetness of his lips as he finally… connects them… in a kiss.

This was it. Her first kiss.

There’s not one thought in her head, a stark contrast to how she’d spent countless sleepless nights overthinking the mechanics of kissing someone. She’d always worried that she’d mess it up, that she’d freeze and wouldn’t know what to do.

But falling into the gentle caress of Harry’s lips is easy. Her nerves spill, her muscles relax, and she just lets herself melt against Harry’s lips. He suckles on her bottom lip gently, folds their lips together, pulls away with soft clicks just to reattach a second later. She sighs dreamily into his mouth and lets herself fall back into the bed, her head against his pillow. He doesn’t let their lips disconnect, following her down and climbing on top of her so that one of his legs is stationed between her thighs.

She wonders if all kisses are this magnificent, or if it’s just Harry. Is it normal to feel your heart stuttering in your chest, or feel electricity flowing through your veins at just the touch of someone’s lips? Would she always lean her face into the palm of his hand, and let herself relax in the bliss of feeling his lips against hers?

It’s wonderful – a head-spinning, heart-fluttering, electrifying kiss.

Harry’s hand that isn’t holding himself up comes down to rest on her thigh, goosebumps rising under his touch. His kisses start to grow more pressured, inhaling sharply and breathing heavily against her, tongue licking at the seam of her lips eagerly. His nose bends against her face as he tilts his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he tastes the sweet chapstick on her lips. Her skin is warm and soft and plushy underneath his touch, and her lips are addictive.

He uses his grip on her thigh to hike her leg up, fitting his hips between hers and sliding his hand up and down her leg tantalizingly. He can feel her losing her breath, so he forces himself off of her lips and starts kissing down her neck. He skims his lips down, presses wet, hot kisses on her throat, his every breath making her core clench.

She squeezes her eyes shut, eyes rolling into the back of her head, and takes heavy breaths, chest rising and falling shakily. Her hands come up to grab onto him – just hold onto him in any way – and the first thing her hands land on are his biceps. His firm, toned biceps, that are flexing as he hovers above her. In an effort to feel more grounded, she squeezes her fingers, but it just ends up making her even more lightheaded because god he’s so strong and muscular and he’s kissing her right now!

She’s overwhelmed and her head is spinning and it feels like she’s in a dream, an amazing dream that feels so good and that she never wants to end – she can smell his aftershave and his shampoo and his overall yummy boy smell, and her lips are tingling with the aftermath of his kiss. She’d always imagined what it would be like to have her neck kissed and sucked on by a boy and now that it’s happening it’s better than she could’ve ever imagined, and she’s so sensitive, and it’s just different to have a real person touching you and kissing you all over, especially someone that she’s majorly attracted to and–

Harry presses his hips into her center and, wow, if it isn't the most arousing thing she’s ever experienced. Excitement and anticipation fill her veins… but then a trickle of doubt starts to filter in. She’d only just had her first kiss, was she ready to go any further than that?

‘H-Harry,” she says, but it’s more of a moan because his fingers squeeze her hips and he’s kissing right underneath her earlobe right now and it’s sending shivers down all over her body. “M-maybe we should stop.”

“Hm?” He pulls away from where he was buried in her neck, his eyes blown out and lips slicked with a mix of their spit.

“I-I’m not ready to have sex with you, if that’s what you want.”

“That’s okay,” he says, licking his lips. “I could just eat you out.”

And, god, if that doesn’t make her whimper. “I– no, I um…” she stammers over herself.

He smiles. “What is it?” he murmurs, an amused lilt to his voice.

“I… I haven’t done any of… that.” She swallows, looking at him nervously. Her heart, which had once been racing with excitement, now pounds with apprehension. This is the first time she’s been in this position and she’s feeling so vulnerable.

It’s extremely scary and nerve-wracking and Harry’s silence is not doing anything to help her feel better.

“You’re a virgin?” he asks after a beat.

She nods. She feels insecure under his gaze, and even though she’s fully clothed, she feels totally exposed.

He laughs. “Are you really?” he asks again.

Her eyes flash with hurt. She just shared something extremely intimate with him, shared her very first kiss with him… and he was laughing at her?

She feels her heart drop, and her cheeks flame with insecurity.

“Um–" she swallows around the lump developing in her throat. "I should go,” she says, barely over a whisper. She puts her hands on his chest and pushes him away, sliding out from underneath him and climbing out of his bed. Grabbing her ipad, she shoves it into her backpack, along with her notes that were scattered along his desk and her phone lying at the foot of his bed. Her cheeks burn hot and her heart is aching in her chest.

“What?” He doesn’t challenge her when she pushes him away, but he stares at her with his eyebrows furrowed, confused at the sudden mood shift. “What happened?”

She doesn’t answer. Her throat is hurting, the painful lump a tell-tale sign of the tears getting ready to fall.

“Y/n?” he asks again, getting off his bed and walking towards her. All amusement has left his face, brows furrowed in a concerned manner. She shrugs him off when he approaches her.

“Don’t.” She feels embarrassed, her mind only filled with insecurity. He was making fun of her for being a virgin, teasing her. As if she wasn’t already embarrassed enough about it herself.

She’d planned on calling Maddie to come pick her up when she was ready to go, but it doesn’t matter anymore. She leaves his room hastily, before any of the tears can fall, and nearly runs out of his apartment.

She’ll walk home.

˙· .° ｡ ˚ ｡ ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡ ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °. · ˙ ‧̍̊

OMG!!! HOPE U GUYS LIKED ITTTTTT HEHEHEHE :-) part 3 is up on my patreon already and will come to tumblr next saturday (augsut 5) pleeeeaaaase lmk what u think and give her a rb and a comment i LOVE U GUYS SO SO MUCH!!!!

sunshine (part 3) - in which y/n just wants to get this whole virginity thing out of the way, and Harry needs to grovel a bit before she forgives him.

sunshine masterlist

#harry #harry fic #harry smut #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles writing #fic rec #harry fic rec #harry styles fic rec

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jlushie · 1 year

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Giving Them the Bouquet {Stardew Valley: Alex, Elliot, Seb, and Shane}

Yes, some fluffy confessions from all the marriage candidates. I always wanted them each to have a different reaction but they all pretty much say the same thing T_T

Giving them the bouquet before the ten heart event also always confused me, since they always end up confessing even though the bouquet symbolizes dating? I’m not quite sure. I’ll just assume most of everyone is shy or something lolol

Also, I’d like to apologize for my long hiatus. I’m going to be slowly, but surely, answer (almost) everything in my inbox. I swear I’m not ignoring any of you T_T

I hope this makes up for it, at least a little bit.

Anyhow, enjoy the story!

Alex:

After getting the letter from Pierre (who somehow creepily knew about your not so obvious crush on Alex), you rush to the store to get the bouquet. Sure, you literally had no plan on what to do, but you were already struggling with your feelings towards Alex and how to tell him. Even if it was super creepy of Pierre, you were not going to waste this opportunity!

For a moment, as you stood at the entrance of his house, shaking in your boots as you waited for someone to answer the door, you wondered if you really HAD to go through with it. I mean, surely it wasn’t too late…but before you could even turn around, Evelyn opens the door.

She greets you warmly, and then sees the bouquet. If you’re easy to fluster, I’m sorry. She’s going to giggle at you and probably say some things like;

“Oh my… You must be giving that to my dear grandson, yes?”

“They’re so beautiful, just like you, my dear. Alex is so lucky to have someone like you.”

“Ah… Young love… I remember when George had given me a bouquet all those years ago…”

“I’ll prepare the vase while you go talk with him. He’s in his room.”

She means no ill will, she’s literally sunshine and innocence mashed into an elderly woman.

She’ll happily invite you inside, and I imagine you’d just book it to his room after an encounter like that. You probably take a deep breath once more before knocking onto his door.

He opens the door for you (and luckily he has a shirt on so you won’t be distracted :D), and his face lightens up the moment he sees you.

“Oh, hey farmer! I was actually just about to head over to the farm to check up on ya… I haven’t seen you all day so I just got a bit worried… B-But y-you don’t have to always talk to me! I-I mean I totally always want to talk to you-! W-Wait that sounds… Let me start over…“

You ask if you can come in, and he quickly lets you in, cursing under his breath since he believed he was acting stupid. He closes the door, but right when he turns around, he’s beyond shocked.

You, the person he believed to be the cutest thing in Pelican Town since you had moved here, had a large bouquet of flowers in your hands, holding them out for him to take. He kept looking between the flowers and you, pretty unsure what to do tbh

It’s not until you finish your confession that he actually takes them, a super cute, but goofy smile spreading on his face as he rubs the back of his neck while holding the flowers close to him.

“I-I’m really happy you told me…! T-Thanks! I-I’ll totally accept this, yeah!”

It might seem like a really weird way to accept your feelings but give this man a break. He seems confident but he can just make himself flustered so quickly.

He’d probably ask you a lot of questions pretty quickly. He’s kinda a flustered chatterbox if you couldn’t tell.

He’d ask things like how long you had liked him, or if you knew he liked you, or what he could call you, etc.

You’d probably have to make him stop talking, but he’d still be so happy either way.

After a bit, Evelyn walks into the room with a vase, which sure, flustered you and Alex a bit more than previously, but it’s quickly lightened up with a plate of cookies, and an invite to dinner.

Even if you’d only given the bouquet to Alex like 20 minutes ago, he’s already planning a date to the saloon <333

Elliott:

I actually imagine Elliott would be quite a comforting person to be around, so compared to some of the others, while still be scary, it’s be a way more chill confession, if that makes any sense what so ever

Maybe it’s because he’s a romantic, so he’d understand no matter the outcome. So for this, we’re gonna say you’re a little excited to tell Elliott. Definitely nervous, but at least you’ll get it off your chest!

You bought the bouquet, and pretty much skipped out his house. When you arrived at his door, you were surprised to see he wasn’t there. He usually stayed at his house during this time, and surly he would have let you know. He usually let you know of any schedule changes he had so you two could always spend time together.

Willy had been walking by and saw you waiting at the door in a confused sort of trance.

“Ah, Farmer Y/n… You just missed Elliott.”

You ask if he knows where Elliott had gone. He lets out a laugh and winks at you.

“Yep. He told me he was headin’ to Pierre’s… Said he wanted to get a bouquet for a very special person.”

Willy let out another laugh, but was horrified to see how heartbroken you looked. He didn’t mean that in the way that you think at all. Your head held low, causing Willy to panic. You had run off before he had a chance to clear it up.

You had run off back to the farm, passed all the concerned villagers. When you got home, you gently tossed the bouquet onto the table and fell flat onto your bed, and stared up at the ceiling.

What you didn’t know was that Elliott was looking around frantically for you. He had no idea where you could be! Maybe you were in the mines? Or maybe you went to Ginger Island, or the Skull Caverns? He’d already been by your farm a couple times before you went home, so he just assumed you weren’t home.

At the end of the day, he walked home in defeat, the bouquet in his hands as he dragged himself to his house. Willy had stayed up specifically to tell him what had occurred, since he felt awful for it. Elliott wasn’t mad, but actually both worried and flustered over the news he was given.

You came to his house with a bouquet?? Were you going to give it to him????? WHY DIDN’T HE JUST WAIT A LITTLE LONGER THEN-

He thanked Willy before heading off to bed, already setting his alarm clock to the earliest time possible.

You had woken up from the knocking on your door. It wasn’t too surprising, since the villagers sometimes did have the tendency to wake you up even earlier than you already woke up. It was probably the fact you’d been pretty upset over the Elliott thing that you were a bit grumpy to answer the door. You contemplated even getting up, but did so anyway. You groggily opened the door, but woke the hell up when seeing Elliott at the door, bouquet in his hands.

It all suddenly clicked, and you felt a little embarrassed for before. It was a bit visible on your expression, but Elliott didn’t seem to mind, and only focused on you with a flustered, but loving smile.

You sat in silence for a second. Before Elliott could even speak, you held your hand up to quiet him for a moment to run and get the bouquet you had gotten for him, running back to the door with it in your hands.

Both do you were practically tomatoes from being so red. Elliott’s smile widened, bending down a bit to get a bit closer to your face.

“Mind if I come in? We can talk over breakfast.”

Oh you’ll definitely talk

Shane:

Honestly, I imagine you’d be super hesitant for a couple days after you received the letter from Pierre. It’d probably be a couple days of a lot of thinking and consideration.

Then, one day, Jas had approached you.

You had grown a bit closer to her when you befriended Shane, and she seemed to really enjoy your company. She always wanted to play with you and sometimes joined you and Shane when you hung out. So usually, it wouldn’t bother you if she approached you, but it was raining pretty hard. You essentially screeched like a barbarian when you saw her drenched in water before you had dragged her under a large tree at the farm.

You rambled a bit about her, mostly regarding her health and the chance she could get sick in this weather.

“Sorry… I just needed to ask you something…”

She looked a bit saddened, but you quickly explained to her that you weren’t mad, just worried. And she could ask you anything, just preferably not in the rain. And since your house was the closest, you had urged her inside.

You brought her a towel to dry off, then turned on the fireplace. You had also made the two of you some hot chocolate, and Jas was more than delighted to drink it. As you both sat near the fire, Jas had asked you the big question she had come all this way to ask;

“Are you in love with Uncle Shane?”

You choked on your hot chocolate, but Jas just stared at you innocently. You didn’t really deny it, mostly because you were recovering from choking on the hot chocolate, but as soon as you did, your first question was why she wanted to ask such a thing.

“Miss Penny read us a fairy tail where the people in the book were in love, but they didn’t tell each other. It reminded me of you and Uncle Shane. You two are always red around each other and get nervous.”

You stuttered over your words, trying your best to come up with a response, but to no avail. Jas just smiled.

“You should tell him! He really likes you too. He never stops talking about you. And he gets all smiley.”

Is that true??? SERIOUSLY??? DID JAS JUST TELL ON SHANE?!

Afterwards, Marnie came in search of Jas, and the little girl had left. Though, the things she had said never really left your mind. That was probably the moment you had made the decision to give Shane the bouquet.

The next day, you headed straight to Pierre’s after taking care of your farm. And afterward, headed straight to Marnie’s barn, since it was Shane’s day off… You bumped into Jas on the way, who was pretty excited when she realized you were going to tell him. She had to go off and play with Vincent, but her mood was brightened and she skipped her way to her friend.

You pretty much went straight to Shane’s room, bouquet behind your back. Shane opened the door, and the moment he saw you, a smile spread on his face.

“Oh, hey Farmer. What’s up?”

You ask if you could talk, and Shane gets visibly nervous. I feel like if anyone hears the words ‘let’s talk,’ they panic a little.

Once you two were alone, he was shifting a bit. It made you feel bad to get him all fidgety, since it wasn’t your intention to make him a bit frazzled. But, you were here to do what you had mentally declared you were going to do. You pulled out the bouquet, and the second you did his eyes are wide, and his face flushed up.

You managed to get out your confession pretty well. You were as fidgety as he was in the beginning, but in the end, you had the courage to look him in the eyes.

He looked a bit worried, and looked away a bit shyly. It made you think for a second that he was going to reject you, but that wasn’t really the case.

“I… I really… I feel the same about you. But don’t be offended when I say this… Are you sure you really like me? I mean… I’ve struggled. I still struggle. I just want to make sure you’ll be happy with me if this is really what you want.”

Comfort him.

Tell him the honest truth; That you do indeed want this, and you want him. You really love him, and you want to be happy with him.

After that, he’d take the bouquet, albeit, a bit shyly.

“I-If you’re sure… Then… I’ll accept this. Thank you…”

Sebastian:

I imagine there would be a lot of thought and consideration, like Shane. You definitely love Sebastian, no doubt about that. It’s more the concern should you tell him or should you not. Plus, most assume that he likes Abigail. All of that would be a lot to consider.

However, you my dear have the determination to be honest with your feelings. Despite everything, you really wanted to tell Sebastian, even if it didn’t end well. Plus it almost felt like he knew at this point with how obvious you thought you were being.

So, you bought the bouquet. It made you a little more nervous when looking down at the bundle of flowers, since Sebastian didn’t really favor flowers in any way. But maybe it’d be the meaning that he’d truly appreciate? You didn’t know at this point, only getting more and more nervous the closer you got to his house.

Though, you could quickly tell when coming inside that something wasn’t right in the house. Robin looked grumpy and her husband wasn’t anywhere in sight. Robin barely even took notice of you, grumpily shaving down some wood.

You were kinda happy about that though. It’d be a bit awkward for Robin to fawn over you right before you were going to confess to her son-

Anyhow, you walked inside of his room, freezing up a bit when seeing Sebastian sitting on his bed, leaning against the wall with an angry expression. He seemed deep in thought, not even noticing you at the door.

He eventually saw you when you sat down beside him, the bouquet behind your back as you looked at him with concern. You were quick to ask Sebastian what was wrong. Had something upset him?

Sebastian let out a sigh, looking up at the ceiling. “Demetrius is what’s wrong. He got into a fight with my mom about me, saying I should be out of the house by now... He never brought Maru up at all though.”

Demetrius’ favoritism always made your blood boil. He seriously had no right to treat Sebastian in such a mean way. And frankly, you didn’t like the way he talked to Robin either. You were quick to side with Sebastian, letting him know of such to. You assured him he did nothing wrong, and Demetrius had no right to say that.

Obviously, it felt weird to give him a bouquet in that moment, so you just... hid it behind your back. You had pretty much given up on the idea of telling him now... But hey, maybe another time.

But obviously, Sebastian can see the colorful abundance of flowers brooding from your back, and so of course he would ask.

You tried to avoid it, even trying to blame it on the ol' farming excuse, but Sebastian wasn't impressed. He sighed, looking down at the ground with a frustrated expression.

"You're giving someone a bouquet, aren't you?"

His expression morphed from frustration into sadness.

"...Just go and give it to them... You don't have to pity me anymore."

you stared in utter bewilderment. Did he... not even consider these were for him? You quickly pushed the bouquet into his hands, correcting him and saying they were for him, not for anyone else.

His face was flushed in red as he stared at you with wide eyes.

"...S....Seriously?"

You'll have to tell him a few times they are for him. He'll always need to hear it a few times before it really kicks in.

He takes a shaky breath, looking down at the bouquet as a slow smile stretched on his lips.

"Cool... cool... Thanks."

#stardew valley #stardew valley x reader #sv shane #sv sebastian #sv elliott #sv alex #stardew valley shane #stardew valley sebastian #stardew valley elliot #stardew valley alex #x reader #IM BACK BABEYY #stardew valley headcanons #stardew valley bachelors

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