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#but it is making me laugh to think abt trying to explain this to him
anniegamgee · 2 years
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The bsd fandom isnt flourishing with literature majors babygirlifying their fav authors into bsd characters and i am so disappointed in all of you
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kyuala · 1 year
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NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO i just woke up from a dream where mark was my bf how do i go on living like normal after this 😭😭😭😭
#i think i was like. at some sort of nct nation rehearsal and i was just listening to his parts#anton for some reason came up beside me and was like singing along and i was like omg thats so good!!! u rock!!#then hendery asked me what i was talking about bc from where he was standing he couldnt see anton so i explained it to him#i said anton rocks omg!!!! then he agreed then anton got all shy then we all ordered food (?)#WHICH WAS BURGER KING BUT LIKE ON A MEAL PLATE AND ALSO W WASABI???? anyways#mark discreetly showed up along w some of the other members and while they were all talking he came up to me tryna be all lowkey#but then i made grabby hands and kissy faces at him and he came closer so i could smooch his cheek 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭im gonna kms.#anyways. i kissed his cheek and while we were hugging he whispered smth abt asking a staff to drop me off at his house#or the other way around i cant rmbr it but i got all happy n excited bc i'd be seeing him again later#n we were like. just in a big love bubble it was so cute :( then fucking hendery and anton saw us and were like WHAT ARE Y'ALL TALKING ABOUT#we just giggled and said NOTHING MIND YOUR BUSINESS and then mark gave them his credit card to distract them like 😭😭😭 some rich men r ok#n then he went away and they started fighting over who got the card and what they should buy with it#and hendery was doing a silly dance to make me laugh and try to convince me to be on his side n say anton should give him the card it was SO#CUTEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE THE WHOLE ENTIRE DREAM IT WAS JUST SO CUTE I CANT IM VONNA DIE#screaming crying throwing up etc pls God make this a realityyyy i wanna date mark and have fun w the neos and neo-adjacent 😔#mari.txt#dreams
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pupkashi · 3 months
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a/n: i just wanted to write abt yuta being scary and sexy so here is my word vomit
masterlist
thinking abt bf!yuta who looks and acts so pathetic around u but is so protective and intimidating
yuta is so helplessly in love and devoted to you, even a blind man can feel the love he has for you a mile away. yuta is the first to laugh at your jokes, the first to tell you happy birthday and congratulate you on everything. he’ll give you anything you want the minute you ask for it, no matter what it is.
yuta doesn’t get into arguments with you, he’ll apologize for whatever he did wrong and prove to you he’ll never make the same mistake again. he’ll shower you in gifts and acts of service and spend as much quality time with you as you want.
there isn’t a thing he wouldn’t do for you.
yuta okkotsu isn’t the beefiest man on the planet, nor is he the tallest. but he is the most intimidating when he wants to be. and whenever anyone is a little too friendly with you, he definitely wants to be.
it’s only been two minutes since he left to the use restroom and there there some douchebag was, trying to flirt with you. it makes his blood boil, seeing someone who isn’t him be that close to you, trying to buy you a drink as you politely decline him.
it takes only a moment for yuta to walk up to you, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you close to him.
“who’s this, angel face?” he asks you, his voice is soft and sweet as he speaks to you, but his eyes are sharp and venomous as he stares at the other man.
“he just was talking to me about some sport, he’s nobody yuu” you smile, trying your best to contain the situation while you could.
“yeah i was just leavin, don’t wanna waste my time on something used” the man snorts, turning around before his body is jolted backwards as yuta grabs his wrist.
the man immediately cried out in pain, knees buckling as yuta’s grip only tightened. “how ‘bout you quit crying and apologize,” yuta taunts, jaw clenched as his grip grew stronger.
“baby please i don’t want a scene” you plead, squeezing his arm and forcing him to look at you. yuta always thought your eyes were so alluring. something about them brought him a sense of serenity he never thought was possible.
“okay” he mumbles, letting go of the man’s wrist, rolling his eyes as the man cradled his now broken wrist, crying out about his pain and running the opposite direction.
the two of you don’t stick around, walking out into the hot summer breeze before you stop, hands on your hips as you stare at your lover.
“yuta” your tone is more than enough to stop him dead in his tracks, slowly turning on his heel with a sheepish smile on his face.
if you didn’t know your lover, you never would’ve guessed that the man who’s a stuttering and blushing mess in front of you broke a man’s write for flirting with you.
his shoulders are slouched a bit, strands of black hair framing his face perfectly as he tried his best to defend himself.
“I’m sorry darling” he begins, already giving you the puppy eyes you fall for, “i couldn’t just stand by and let some scumbag try to talk you up without-” you cut him off by grabbing his hand and pulling him to sit with you on a nearby bench.
“pretty boy, you know I’m only yours right?” the words make yutas fave flush a deep red, nodding softly as he looks at the ground. “you don’t have to fight or threaten every person who gets too close to me, i can handle myself” you explain.
“you shouldn’t have to” yuta mumbles, looking at you with a small pout. “i wanna be the one to protect you,” he sighs, “i wanna let the world know that they shouldn’t even think about trying anything with you.”
there’s a beat of silence and yuta is about to apologize again before you’re crashing your lips onto his. it’s a shock to him, but he immediately kisses you back, smiling when you bite his bottom lip softly.
“cmon let’s go home,” you smile, laughing when yuta practically jumps up, back to his sunshine smile as he intertwines his fingers with yours.
“you wanna make some cookies and watch a movie?” he asks, swinging your held hands as you two walks together down the empty street.
“you read my mind, pretty” you grin, leaning into him as the two of you walked, loving how he instinctively put his arm over your shoulder and kissed the top of your head.
there’s not a care in the world for you. you’d never have to look over your shoulder or carry a weapon with you. as long as yuta was by your side the only thing you’d have to worry about is stopping him from killing anyone who hurt you, intentionally or not.
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dolliestfairy · 1 year
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𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟'𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝅄ֹ ׅ♡ ೀ ʚĭɞ ‌ིᨴּ ˒˒۪
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(Crazy) Yandere [Nerd] Boy x Soft!Chubby!Fem!Reader ༢𓏲๋ ⊹ ֢
𔓘 Tw : Kidnapping, Extreme Noncon (y'all are strangers bro), Rushed Fanfic, Mentions Of Blood, Virginity-Take, Extreme Somnophilia, Stalking, Extreme Obsession, Impregnate, A little of Bondage, Seriously dude you're fucking with a crazy nerd boy who is a freaking stranger to you like y'all didnt know each other but this madman is really know you to the soul from all his stalking and stuff. this fanfic is quite the Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Chubby reader fics with no skintone of reader mentioned.
𔓘 A/N : y'all.. this are f***king insane bro.. like this is kinda disturbing imo as a writer of this and also a lot of suffocating. Read at your own risk. me myself actually like the extreme yandere fics but this is still the prefix of it. stay safe while reading this because again; y'all are a stranger!! if a dark content yandere isnt your cup of tea then i highly recommend you to spend your shit at other blogs!! ty.
W/C : 6,4K for Stranger Fucking 💀
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Currently thinking abt nerdy men who looks like they would shit in their pants when someone raised their voice at them, but the truth is; he's really really quite the strong. he's a nerdy man who arent shy at all (or maybe just a little) and he's simply just dont like to be bothered by anyone else. he's also a nerdy man who told himself countless time to just focus on studying and studying, and at the first moment; he actually manage to do it within his daily life, well until he met you.
You; plump, soft looking girl with chubby cheeks and doe eyes. you dont even know how much you affect him didnt you? arent you just dumb? walking there and then with such a tiny skirt that almost showed up your plump ass cheeks. walking down in the hallway with such dress that hugged all of your curves together perfectly. oh if only you find out how every night he would spend his time in his bedroom alone while his hand thrust his own cock up and down, thinking about you. he would be drown in his thoughts about how you would find out all his dark fantasy about you. but.. he do realize he shouldnt be doing this actually, no really, he should just be studying, but the soft laugh and those.. those whimpers terror you gave him just drove him to his edge.
And the fact that he masturbate about you when you both are clearly still stranger - is fucking crazy. he mostly had heard of how'd you talk, whimper and moan (wait.. how did.. he know?) and stuff like that while your own self being completely un guard around him. he swear to his thumbs he hated you for making him felt like this, i mean how could you?? a plump girl just trying to get into her daily life as normal as usual can make some nerd dude mad in love with her without her being aware at all?! he cant do this.. he cant do this anymore..!
And he really cant do it anymore. as he go to your apartement at midnight after finding out where you live. peeking through the window to what you were doing only to find you dressing in a short pastel rainbow dress lingerie with big bows placed in the back of your hair, dancing to some songs.. and oh my god he cant even explain how much he want to ripped those colorful dress lingerie off your body. he has no doubt at all that you have the most beautiful body he would ever sees in his entire life.
As he drown himself in his own thoughts until he heard a telephone ring -- it was your friend! your male friend! as you picked the phone up, talking with your friends, while he sees with his own eyes about the way you laugh softly at what-god-knows your friend was muttering to you. he doesnt and he would rather bury himself alive than admitting about the fact that he was really, really, envy and jealous. as he harshly breath at you, while all his body is literally focus with you. his eyes seeing you from head-to-toe, his ears listening carefully about the conversation you're having as his mouth try to resist to open it again because well um -- he is quite the drooling over there. that was it until you start to walk towards the front door where he was outside!!
As he sees you carefully, while hiding himself in the corner, and focused on the door handle you're about to open. until........
Until he quickly enough to put his arms and placed it onto your mouth, shuting you up until you passed out and bring you to your new home his home. as he open the bondage he placed at your mouth, and pinch your chubby cheeks until he sees your whimpering again. thats it! thats the thing that always drove him mad everydsy everynight. thinking about you whimper at whatever he was doing was like a holy candle for him. he then stood himself up, looking at your half unconscious body, and then start to strip you... to naked.
As he softly ripped all the dress lingerie you weared, and after he got the look at your boobs, he slowly put his hands up at where your nipples on, and start playing with it. while his eyes focused on your face, waiting the reaction he have been wait. and until then... you are moaning. honestly he have been thinking that he was in a dream that time. i mean -- he do have seen you moan by the way he always check on you secretly.. but he never except his own self to be the only one who could capable enough to hear your soft moan. as he sped up the phase of his hands playing your nipple, while his own other hand strat to undress himself.
And until he and your own finally completely naked. and... oh god to be damned. he swear he always sees you at some kind of whore while your other friend sees you just as an innocent normal girl, and he always have no doubt about his feelings That you have such an erotic body and at the end.. he was actually right. you do have a very very.. pleaseable body. as he placed his hands into your half unconscious body, lowering it until his hands touch your private part -- your pussy. he slowly but surely put his 3 long fingers in to play with you, and to be surprised or.. shocked even, that you are so so fucking damn tight! he even sure that your pussy is one of the most tightest thing he'd ever placed his hands on, as he quickly sped-ing up his pace at playing your pussy, watching you moan and whimper become one, he cant believe what he saw. you're literally still half unconscious! but yet you somehow still manage to bring out the sound he would die for with! at this rate he doesnt know if he wants to wake you up or just let you still be half unconscious so when you wake up, you're gonna have a some extra surprised with your naked body that has been covered with his cums. as he thinking about it while he placed his (quite big) cock at your pussy. trying to rip those tight wall of your pussy off. thats what he was trying to do until your pussy start showing a little drop of blood out of it.
Oh.. he get it.. yeah he actually get it. You're a Virgin arent you? oh.. such sweet cheeks.. well too bad yoi're going to give all of your innocents left as his own hands and dicks. the body of someone you dont even know at all. he actually felt (just a little) bit of guilt. but who cares anyway? you're literally still half unconscious! as he said it to himself while he tried his possible to pound your ass up at your fat pussy. going in and up in every corner. at first it was slowly, but then he start to change the position into a mating press just so the cums and the blood are still there. as he quickly but surely speeding his pace up like a mad man. at this rate he was at the edge of doesnt gave a fuck about the fact that you're still half unconscious but then he's also at the edge of shock and unbelief because of how you are still not waking up at his pounding.
And all of those pounding ends when his cock start to dried out with how your fat pussy suck all his cums and sperma in. pulling his cock out of your pussy only to see the view of the inside of your pussy, being drown with his cums. as his hands hold your body up just so all the cums he had restored isnt goung to spill. and until then he slowly put his hands down, letting your body down into the mating press position, watching your pussy spilling all of his cums like a fucking waterfall. (his cum waterfall) and then he placed his palm hands at your cheeks softly, while quietly muttering about how he would take care of you, and keeping you safe and that you wouldnt need to be scared of him (even after all his done to you) as he placed his other hand at your undressed belly, and then stroke it with such gentleness because he knew that right now, right at the almost-morning time, that you're going to be swellen with thousands - thousands of his sperm, and at the end of the month, he would see you placed your own hands at your bellies who at that time was full with his kid. oh how he cant wait... he just hope that you wouldnt be freaked out about the fact that you just found yourself in a unrecognizeable place with a literal fucking stranger who is now has placed a baby inside of you. yes, a baby -- his baby.
TSUKISHIMA KEI, ITOSHI RIN, MEGUMI, Itachi, Shikamaru, Nanami, Neji, Tobirama, Deku, KUNIMI, Muichiro, SEMI EITA, Konoha Akinori, Venti, XIAO, AL-HAITAM, Akaashi, KOZUME KENMA, & hatake kakashi.
did i forgeting anyone? insert ur fav!
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Dolliestfairy's © Works. Do Not Repost My Creation at Any Platfroms Without My Permission.
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finsplurtz · 8 months
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Dude idk how to explain it but there’s smth about ur fics i love….if ur taking requests can u do one for yuuji? Hes kinda dumb and he was basically a jock before he got into jujutsu tech so one with some corruption kink?
— thankuu I’m glad u enjoy my writings, I try my best. Hope you enjoy this one too<3
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dumb slut — yuuji.itadori
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— dom ! male.reader x sub ! Yuuji Itadori
— contents : dumb yuuji (I love him) , corruption kink , virgin yuuji , is called a slut like once , overstim , creampie….if u rlly think abt it , passing out nd yeah.. mb if i got smth wrong
warnings : virginity loss erm think not much of a warning… blud is aged up btw
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✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮
You stared down at the pink haired guy with a confused look. … did he seriously not get the hint..?
You’ve been flirting and sending hints that you wanna sleep with him. At some point you almost gave up and thought maybe he was playing stupid to not hurt your feelings or something, but no he’s really clueless.
Something about that made you feel excited.
Yuji was popular, he’s surrounded by girls, you were 100% sure he knew about the wonders of sex.
“Uh.. you know what, we should hang out after school. My house. Just us two” you smile knowing he couldn’t turn you down.
There wasn’t any special occasion, you just wanted to hang out like friends and down a couple drinks. That’s what he thought at least.
For most of the afternoon you guys were laughing and talking about anything and everything, Yuji’s a lightweight so the littlest alcohol already had him fucked up.
“Ahh…Yuji tell me, any girls you’ve been with?” You ask taking a swig of the alcoholic drink.
“Hmm…. I’ve had like 3 or 4 girlfriends.. you?” You let out a small chuckle.
“I’ve had some yeah, I mean girls you’ve slept with..” you tilt your head looking into his eyes, god was he cute..
“Uhm……no I’ve never..” he flushed looking off to the side. You got closer and placed you’re hand over his thigh.
“It’s okay..I don’t judge….but god does it feel good” you glance at his lips and he stutters trying to move away.
“Y-yeah..? I mean y..yeah I’ve heard..”
“I can show you, yuuji..” you get closer and closer to his lip, he closes his eyes tightly and you quickly stuff your tongue in his hot mouth.
He tightly grabs onto your shirt, his tongue so stiff it kinda makes you laugh.
You quickly dig your hands into his pants and roughly stroke his dick making him moan in your mouth.
“Augn-! Mmphh…~” He tries to pull your hand off but it feel so good, he can’t bring himself to pry you off, instead his hips subconsciously start thrusting into your hand.
“..like it..?” You pull away looking into his glossy eyes, he shakes his head no and tries squirming away.
“Mm…I know you like it..feels good doesn’t it..~? I can show you something that’ll feel even better…” he looks at you with wide eyes and a red face.
.
.
“OHH FUCK- ACK—“ Yuuji scratched his stained bedsheets as you pounded into his used up hole. His lips were red and slightly busted from how much he was biting them, he felt sticky and sweaty but he was addicted.
“D..did you cum again..?” You said, panting like a dog. You had felt him tighten around you causing you to groan and dig your fingers into his plush skin.
“Ugh….aren’t you..tired..?” He turned around and he almost had hearts in his eyes. He smirked as best as he could and moved himself on your cock letting out more whorish moans.
“Holy shit..? Have I turned you into a complete slut for dick??” You laugh and wrap your hand around his throat bringing his back up against your chest.
“S..so full..! Nngh….HA—“ He screamed feeling you harshly thrust in him again, cum being pushed out of his gaping hole.
“T-TOO MUCH S..STOP Y-YN~!!” He saw sparks as he came one more time at the feeling of your hot cum pumping him again, his thighs trembled and he fell forward, completely passing out.
You watched your seed peek out of his hole making you twitch.
You ended up passing out next to him for the whole day. In the morning you woke up to your cock being slowly stroked..
You slowly open your eyes to find Yuuji straddling you and aligning your tip to his wet entrance.
“Just…one more time..”
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a/n; did i slack off? a little yeah…..
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flwrstqr · 4 months
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— HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS (LHS - 이희승)
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SYNOPSIS ! an advice writer, you, starts on a bold new project for an article aiming to explain how to drive a man away in just 10 days. your editor is supports, so you set out to find a suitable man for her experiment. meanwhile, executive heeseung is equally confident in his ability to make any woman fall in love with him within 10 days. when you and heeseung cross paths, things slightly go off plan.
THE CAST heeseung x writer! fem reader
GENRE s2l, fluff, comedy, romance
WORD COUNT 5k+
WARNINGS parties, kissing, small grammar errors, yn kind of playing with heeseung at first, swearing, angst, crying
DANi NOTEZ hii this is for my liz's new event!!! this i based the rom com, how to lose a guy in 10 days. i kind of changed up scenes but the main idea and plot is based on the iconic 2000s movie. i've been writing this for abt 2-3 days? i thought it was good enough for liz' event so here i am. anyways i hope u enjoy it ><
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BEING A WRITER HAS BEEN YOUR NUMBER ONE GOAL EVER SINCE HIGH SCHOOL. Now, at age 23, you were finally standing at the gates of the biggest magazine company ever. The sight alone sent chills down your spine, filling you with exhilaration.
Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the doors and stepped inside. The bustling activity, the hum of the printer, and the aroma of bitter coffee greeted you. You made your way to the elevator and anxiously pressed the button for the 17th floor.
Upon arrival, you awkwardly walked into the office. Your heart was pounding, and your knees were slightly shaking. You approached the manager's office and opened the door, finding yourself sitting in front of your section's main manager.
"YN LN?" the woman asked.
"Yes, ma'am," you replied stiffly, nerves evident in your voice.
"Welcome to our magazine company," she greeted, shaking your sweaty hand.
"Thank you," you responded with your usual sweet smile.
"Well, why don't you get to work?" she laughed. Your eyes widened, and you quickly stammered an apology, rushing to find your new desk and start brainstorming ideas.
For nearly two hours, you gazed out the window, feeling empty. No ideas were coming to you. It always seemed that the best ideas came at the worst times, and now, when you needed them most, your mind was blank.
"YN, just think…" you whispered to yourself, running your fingers through your hair. You glanced around the office, hoping for inspiration. Your eyes settled on a young man and woman engaged in a flirtatious conversation. Watching them smile and laugh together made you wonder if they were a couple or just interested in each other. (happy couples really did give you an ick.)
Then, it happened. The perfect idea. An idea that could possibly get you promoted and shake the whole world.
Quickly scribbling on your paper, the title snapped into your mind: "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."
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YOU MIGHT BE WONDERING, how do you even lose a guy in 10 days? Easy—just find a guy and drive him away by doing stereotypical “girl things.” Sounds like a piece of cake, right?
“YN, that is one of the BEST ideas I’ve ever heard!” your editor, Yeseo, exclaims.
“Really?” you ask, eagerly smiling.
“It’s perfect! It would catch everyone’s attention!” Yeseo explains, her eyes lighting up as she imagines the situation.
“So, how are you going to write this?” Yeseo raises an eyebrow.
“I’ll try it out myself and document my experiences. That way, it’s more authentic,” you shrug.
“That sounds great. Just journal your experiences each day,” Yeseo nods, agreeing with your plan. “I’m so excited to see the final product, YN. Email me once you’re finished, and we’ll get it published within weeks.”
You give her a quick smile before leaving her office, ready to start your new adventure.
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PARTIES. USUALLY ONE OF THE THINGS YOU ABSOLUTELY HATED. The noise of couples kissing, people screaming, and music blasting through the speakers was just not your thing. The way sweaty bodies brush against each other as they chug alcohol. Parties are truly the thing you hate the most.
“So you’re telling me your new article for the magazine is about how to get a boy to dump you in 10 days?” Karina raised her eyebrow.
“In other words, yes,” you smiled. “I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?”
“Possibly it not working,” Giselle interjected.
“Well, it will. I’ve planned the whole thing,” you grinned with a hint of pride. “My editor was impressed. I’m sure it’ll work.”
“If you say so,” Karina laughed at your confidence.
“So basically, YN will get a boyfriend before me?” Ningning asked, shocked.
“Well, he’s not gonna be my boyfriend. He’s more like a test,” you replied uncertainty. As you continued to explain your plan, you felt a gaze fixed on you from across the room.
A FEW MINUTES BEFORE
“I bet you can’t get a girlfriend,” Jake joked.
“I can,” Heeseung rolled his eyes.
“Wanna bet on it, then?” Jake's eyes glinted with playfulness.
“Deal,” Heeseung confirmed.
“If you get that girl over there as your girlfriend, then I’ll give you a thousand dollars.” Jake smirked, pointing at you across the room.
“Her?” Heeseung raised his eyebrow as he checked you out. You were pretty to his eyes, though he wasn’t sure if he had the courage to approach you.
“Yup, her,” Jake grinned.
“Deal, I’ll have her in my arms within a day,” Heeseung winked before walking over to ask for your number.
NOW
“No way my plan will fail–” your voice stopped as Heeseung approached, tapping your shoulder lightly.
“Hi,” he greeted you with a welcoming smile.
“Uh, hi?” you replied, confused.
“You’re kind of cute. Can I get your number?” Heeseung asked, the words not quite rolling off his tongue as he had never done this before.
Your cheeks burned slightly as you stared. “Sure?” He was quite cute, with his sweet smile and perfectly styled hair. You gave him your number, and he mentioned he would text you later before walking off.
“YN, you know what that means?” Giselle raised her eyebrow.
“Huh?” you looked confused.
“You can use him as your test,” Winter recalled. Your eyes then widened. Perfect! He would be the perfect subject for your new article. Now, how were you going to make him yours?
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YOU SIT ON YOUR BED, staring at your phone, debating whether to text Heeseung first. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, a mixture of nervousness and excitement bubbling inside you. Finally, you take a deep breath and type out a message.
YN: Hi, it’s YN. We met at the party earlier, you asked for my number. :)
You hit send and immediately feel a rush of anxiety. What if he doesn’t respond? What if he thinks you’re weird? You try to distract yourself by scrolling through social media, but the minutes feel like hours. Suddenly, your phone buzzes.
Heeseung: Hey, of course I remember. How's your night going? 
YN: It’s going good, just relaxing now. How about you?
Heeseung: Same here. Just got home. That party was a bit too much for me, tbh
You smile, feeling a little more at ease.
YN: Agreed, not rlly a party person lmao
Heeseung: Really? Me neither. I actually prefer a quiet night with some good music.
YN: Same, what kind of music do you like?
Heeseung: I listen to a lot like R&B and indie ig
YN: oh rlly? Same w me 
Heeseung: oh that’s cool
Heeseung: also wanna meet up one day?
YN: That would be amazing. I’m totally up for it.
Heeseung: Cool, it’s a date then. :)
You can’t help but smile at his message, feeling a flutter of excitement.
YN: Sounds like a plan.
Heeseung: It’s getting late. I should probably get some sleep. But I’m glad we got to talk tonight.
YN: Me too. Sleep well, Heeseung. Talk to you tomorrow?
Heeseung: Definitely. Goodnight, YN. :)
You set your phone down, a smile still on your face. This might just be the start of something interesting.
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YOU TAKE A DEEP BREATH, smoothing out your outfit one last time before stepping into the restaurant. Heeseung is already there, waiting at a table near the window. He spots you and waves, a warm smile spreading across his face. You give a small smile back. 
“Hi,” you greet him as you sit down.
“Hey,” he replies, “You look great.”
“Thanks, you too.”
The waiter comes over to take your orders, and there’s a moment of awkward silence as you both look at the menus.
“So, uh, do you come here often?” Heeseung asks, attempting to break the ice.
“Actually, it’s my first time,” you admit.
“I see,” Heeseung awkwardly laughs. 
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AFTER DINNER, you both step outside into the cool evening air, feeling more comfortable in each other’s presence.
“That was really nice,” Heeseung says, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“Yeah, it was,” you agree, feeling a sense of relief that the awkwardness from earlier has faded.
You walk side by side down the quiet street, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.
“Do you live far from here?” Heeseung asks, breaking the silence.
“Not too far. Just a few blocks away,” you reply, glancing at him.
“Oh I see,” he says, smiling.
As you continued walking, the two of you began to chatter off. The conversation flows effortlessly, and you find yourself laughing at his jokes and sharing your own stories.
“Did you see the sunset earlier?” Heeseung asks, pointing to the sky, which is now painted with shades of orange and pink.
“Yeah, it was beautiful,” you say, smiling at the sight.
“I had a really good time tonight,” Heeseung says, looking at you with a soft smile.
“Me too,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you.
As you reach your street, you both come to a stop.
“Well, I guess this is where we part ways,” Heeseung says, looking a little reluctant to leave.
“Yeah,” you say, feeling a twinge of disappointment.
“Thanks for tonight, YN. I had a great time,” he says, stepping closer to you, “Maybe another time we can hang out again.” 
“Thank you too, Heeseung. That sounds great,” you reply, feeling a rush of happiness.
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 YOU DECIDE IT'S TIME TO PUT YOUR PLAN INTO ACTION. You’ve thought through every detail, determined to see if your article concept works in real life. Step one: find an ugly dog and some hideous clothes. You’ve got the perfect ideas in mind.
You meet Heeseung outside his apartment, holding a small, scruffy dog with a face only its owner could love. You flash him a bright smile as he opens the door.
“Surprise!” you exclaim. “I got us a dog!”
Heeseung’s eyes widen as he takes in the sight of the dog. “Uh, wow, YN. That’s…unexpected.”
“Isn’t he adorable?” you gush, ignoring the bewilderment on Heeseung’s face. “I named him Snuggles.”
“Snuggles, huh?” Heeseung says, trying to muster enthusiasm. “Yeah, he’s…something.”
You place Snuggles in Heeseung’s arms, watching as the dog licks his face with an enthusiastic, slobbery tongue. Heeseung grimaces slightly but manages a strained smile.
“Let’s take him for a walk,” you suggest brightly, grabbing a garishly colored leash from your bag.
Later that evening, you bring out the next part of your plan: an outfit so hideous that it should be impossible for Heeseung to bear. You hand him a neon green tracksuit with orange polka dots and a pair of mismatched shoes.
“I thought we could match!” you say, revealing your identical outfit. “Isn’t it fun?”
Heeseung looks at the clothes, then back at you, clearly unsure how to respond. “Wow, YN. This is…unique.”
“You don’t like it?” you ask, pouting slightly.
“No, no, it’s great,” he says quickly. “I’ll just, uh, go change.”
When he returns, you both look like you’ve stepped out of a bad 80s workout video. You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity, but Heeseung seems to be struggling to keep a straight face.
“Let’s go grab dinner,” you say, linking your arm with his. “I made reservations at that fancy restaurant downtown.”
At the restaurant, the two of you turn heads as you walk in, dressed in your eye-searing outfits. The hostess tries to maintain her professionalism as she leads you to your table, but you can see the corners of her mouth twitching.
Throughout dinner, you do your best to be as irritating as possible. You chew with your mouth open, talk loudly, and insist on ordering the strangest items on the menu.
“Are you sure you want the pizza?” Heeseung asks, a note of disbelief in his voice.
“Absolutely,” you reply, grinning. “And I think you should try it too!”
Heeseung hesitates but eventually nods. “Sure, why not?” 
Here you were, sitting on your bed as you write your story. Typing away and zoning out, it had to be working right? He obviously would be over you by next week. All you needed was one more shove to drive him away soon as possible. Just 5 more days..
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YOU PUSH YOUR CART THROUGH the aisles of the grocery store, scanning the shelves for the items on your list. As you reach for a box of cereal, you hear a familiar voice behind you.
“YN?”
You turn to see Heeseung approaching, a smile lighting up his face. “Oh, hi Heeseung,” you say with a smile.
“Nice to see you here,” he says, falling into step beside you.
“Yeah, I just needed to grab a few things,” you reply, feeling a bit flustered by his presence.
Heeseung nods, and for a moment, there’s an awkward silence as you both continue browsing. Suddenly, you realize you can’t reach the item you need on the top shelf.
“Um, Heeseung, do you think you could help me with something?” you ask, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“Of course, what do you need?” he replies, stepping closer.
“I just need to grab that box up there,” you say, pointing to the top shelf.
“Sure thing,” Heeseung says, reaching up to grab the box.
But as he stretches, you accidentally bump into him, causing him to lose his balance. In a split second, you reach out to steady him, but instead, you end up stumbling backward, crashing to the ground on top of him. Your face merely inches from each other. 
“I’m sorry about that!” you exclaim, your face burning with embarrassment.
“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” he says, his cheeks also flushed as he helps you up.
“Um, we should probably get up,” you say, feeling flustered.
“Yeah, definitely,” Heeseung agrees, scrambling to his feet.
You both straighten your clothes and try to regain your composure, but the awkwardness lingers in the air.
“Well, um, thanks for trying to help,” you say, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“Anytime,” Heeseung replies with a sheepish smile. You exchange a quick awkward glance before awkwardly walking back to do your own things.
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YOU AND HEESEUNG STEP INTO THE DIMLY LIT MOVIE THEATER, the smell of popcorn filling the air. You’ve been looking forward to this night out, hoping it will help end your plan to drive him away. As you settle into your seats, the lights dim, and the movie begins.
The film is a romantic comedy, and as the story unfolds, you find yourself getting lost in the plot. But when the characters share a kiss on screen, you feel a sudden tension between you and Heeseung.
You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, and you can see that he’s watching you, his expression unreadable. You both look away awkwardly, feeling a flush of embarrassment.
As the movie progresses, the tension between you only grows. You can feel Heeseung’s eyes on you, and you struggle to focus on the screen, your heart pounding in your chest.
Suddenly, as another kiss happens, Heeseung leans in closer to you. You freeze, unsure of what to do. Is he going to kiss you? But then, almost as if on cue, Heeseung leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. His breath mingles with yours, his warm exhales tickling your skin as he leans in, his lips drawing closer to yours. You can feel the gentle brush of his breath against your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. 
Your heart pounds in your chest as you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. And then, in a heartbeat, he closes the gap between you, his lips pressing softly against yours. It’s a gentle kiss, but hesitant at first, but soon it deepens. You can’t help but respond, your hands finding their way to his shoulders.
You melt into the kiss, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips against yours.  When you finally pull away, your heart is racing, and your mind is buzzing with emotions. You meet Heeseung’s gaze, and you can see the same uncertainty reflected in his eyes.
“Wow,” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of the movie.
“Yeah,” you murmur, at a loss for words.
As the movie comes to an end, you both sit in silence, the weight of what just happened hanging in the air. But despite the awkwardness, you can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted between you.
As you leave the theater, you can’t help but replay the kiss in your mind, feeling a sense of warmth and longing that you can’t ignore. And as you walk hand in hand with Heeseung, you realize with a start that maybe, just maybe, you’re falling in love.
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AS YOU LIE IN BED THAT NIGHT, the events of the evening replay in your mind. The gentle touch of Heeseung's lips against yours, the warmth of his embrace—it all stuck in your head. 
You stare up at the ceiling, think to yourself.  Love? It's a word you're not ready to utter, a feeling too intense to comprehend. You try to push the thought aside. 
You roll onto your side, pulling the covers tighter around you. You couldn’t be in love? All that effort you put in to get rid of him. It was your 8th day, just two more days. You couldn’t do it anymore. As you drift off to sleep, the question echoes in your mind. Are you falling in love with Heeseung? 
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THE REALIZATION HITS YOU like a ton of bricks, leaving you feeling breathless. Could it be true? Are you actually falling in love with Heeseung?
The thought consumes you as you go about your day. By the time evening arrives, you can't shake the feeling that you needed to end it.
Summoning every ounce of courage, you pick up your phone and dial your editor's number. When she answers, you get yourself together for the conversation ahead.
"Hey, it's me," you begin, "I need to talk to you about the article."
There's a pause on the other end of the line, and you can almost hear the curiosity in her voice as she responds. "Sure, what's up?"
"I… I can't write it," you admit, the words feeling like a confession. "I just don't feel right about it anymore."
There's a moment of silence before your editor speaks again, her tone firm."No, you're writing it," she says, leaving no room for argument.
"But—" you start to protest, but she cuts you off before you can continue.
"No buts," she insists. "We've already agreed on the topic, and you're the best person for the job. I expect to see the first draft on my desk by the end of the week."
You sigh, feeling defeated. It's clear that your editor isn't going to budge on this issue, and you know that arguing further would be a waste.
"Okay," you say reluctantly, resigning yourself to the task at hand. "I'll get it done."
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AS YOU SIT ON YOUR COUCH, trying to make sense of everything that's happened, until you hear Heeseung pick up a call. 
“ Heeseung!" Jake's voice crackles through the phone, filled with excitement. "So, have you sealed the deal yet? Win YN over?"
Your heart skips a beat at the mention of your name and you instinctively lean in closer, eager to hear his response. But as you listen, the color drains from your face, and a cold dread settles in the pit of your stomach.
"The bet that I could get YN in 10 days?," Heeseung's voice comes through the phone, his words cutting through the air, "I thought I could, but…" 
Your heart shatters. Your knees started to shake. How could you have been so blind? How could you have let yourself fall for someone who was playing a game with your feelings?
Before you can hear the rest of his sentence, you leave the room silently. "I thought I could, but…" The words replay in your head.As the reality sinks in, you realize that you may have just broken your own heart, listening in on a conversation that was never meant for your ears.  He played with you. He was using you. You feel like a fool, blindsided by the truth that's been staring you in the face all along. 
You walk yourself to the nearest taxi before coming back to your empty apartment. You lie on bed, your palms on your eyes, sobbing quietly. Why should you care? I mean he was just an experiment — right? 
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THE MORNING SUNLIGHT FILTERS through the curtains as you sit on your bed, thoughts rushing through your mind. The wounds from last night were still raw, as you feel tired and sick. You kew what you have to do. You began to type your last paragraph of the article before submitting it to your editor. 
With the article sent, you feel a mix of anxiety and relief. You know the revised piece is honest and raw, reflecting your own experience. But there’s one more thing you need to do to truly move forward.
To: Editor Yeseo
Subject: Resignation Letter
Dear Yeseo,
I am writing to formally resign from my position as a writer, effective immediately. I appreciate the opportunities I have had here and the support from the team, but I must prioritize my well-being at this time.
Thank you for your understanding.
Sincerely, YN
You hit send, feeling an overwhelming amount of pain. Being a writer had been your dream job, but now, it feels like a chapter you need to close. As you sit in your now-quiet apartment, you feel a pang of sadness. The memories of the past few weeks with Heeseung linger, but you push them aside. 
You start with your closet, pulling out clothes and sorting them into piles: keep, donate, and toss. You take down the photos and posters from the walls, each one a reminder of the life you’re leaving behind.
Next, you move to the kitchen, packing up dishes, utensils, and small appliances. You wrap everything carefully, methodically, as if each item represents a piece of your heart that you’re trying to protect. 
Your phone buzzes with messages from Heeseung, but you ignore them. Making them be left on delivered. You move to the living room, packing up books, DVDs, and mementos. You’re not just packing up your belongings; you’re packing up your old life, preparing to move on and start new.
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IN HIS DIMLY LIT APARTMENT, Heeseung sits on the edge of his bed, the glow of his laptop screen casting shadows across his face. His heart pounds in his chest as he opens the email attachment—a document titled "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days—And Fall in Love in the Process" by [Your Name].
As the page loads, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to read. The cursor hovers over the first paragraph, and with a trembling hand, he begins to scroll down. 
Heeseung sits at his desk, his heart pounding in his chest as he reads the article that has just landed in his inbox. With each word, his emotions spiral into a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief.
"When I set out to write this article..."
He reads the opening sentence, his brow furrowing in confusion. What article is this? And why does it sound so familiar?
As he continues to read, the pieces start to fall into place. The description of the article, the unexpected turn of events—it's all too familiar, too painful to ignore.
"I met someone who was supposed to be just a test subject..."
Heeseung's breath catches in his throat as he realizes what he's reading. This is about him. About the bet, about the article he overheard, about everything.
He reads on, his heart pounding louder with each passing sentence:
When I set out to write this article, the plan was simple: follow a set of steps to make a guy dump me in ten days. It was supposed to be a fun, light-hearted challenge—a piece to entertain our readers. But life, as it often does, had other plans.
I met someone who was supposed to be just a test subject. But as the days went by, something unexpected happened. The more I tried to push him away, the closer we became. Every awkward moment, every forced argument, every silly plan to drive him away only brought us closer together.
I found myself laughing at his jokes, looking forward to our time together, and, against all odds, feeling a connection I hadn't anticipated. What started as a challenge turned into a journey of discovery—not just about him, but about myself.
I realized that love isn't something you can plan or control. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it, breaking down the walls you've carefully built around your heart. And sometimes, the person you're trying to lose ends up being the one you can't imagine living without.
So, dear readers, this isn't the article I set out to write. It's not about foolproof ways to make a guy dump you. Instead, it's a story about how, in the process of trying to push someone away, I found myself falling in love. It's messy, it's unexpected, and it's beautiful.
Life has a funny way of turning our plans upside down. And sometimes, the best stories are the ones we never meant to write.
He closes the magazine, his mind spinning with thoughts of you. He knows he needs to find you, to talk to you, to tell you how he feels. He can't let this opportunity slip away, can't let the chance to be with you slip through his fingers.
With a sense of determination, Heeseung rises from his seat, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows he has to find you, to tell you how he feels, to see if maybe, just maybe, you feel the same way too.
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HEESEUNG'S HEART RACES AS HE RUSHES THROUGH THE STREETS, his mind consumed with thoughts of you. He knows he needs to find you, to talk to you, to tell you everything.
As he rounds the corner, he sees your apartment building looming ahead. His steps quicken, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He's so close now, so close to finally telling you how he feels.
But as he reaches your building, his heart sinks at the sight before him. He sees movers loading boxes into a truck parked outside, and he realizes with a sinking feeling that you're moving away.
Heeseung's chest tightens with panic, his mind racing as he searches for a solution. He can't let you slip away, can't let this chance to be with you slip through his fingers. He rushes toward the building, his thoughts jumbled all up. 
As he bursts through the door, he sees you standing in the hallway, a suitcase at your feet, tears streaming down your face. His heart breaks at the sight of your sadness, and he knows he needs to act fast.
"Y/N!" he calls out, his voice echoing through the empty hallway. You turn to face him, your eyes widening in surprise at the sight of him standing there.
"Heeseung?" you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion. "What are you doing here?"
Heeseung takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to say. "I need to talk to you," he says, his voice filled with urgency. "There's something I need to tell you, something I should have told you a long time ago."
He steps closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "I was part of the bet," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it was never about winning a thousand dollars or proving anything to Jake. It was about proving something to myself—to prove that I could be the kind of guy who deserves someone like you."
Tears well up in your eyes as you listen to his confession, your heart aching with a mix of sadness and hope. "Heeseung…" you whisper, reaching out to touch his hand.
But Heeseung doesn't wait for you to say anything more. With a surge of courage, he leans in and presses his lips to yours, pouring all of his love and longing into the kiss. 
As Heeseung's lips meet yours in that soft, tender kiss, his hands gently find their way to your waist, pulling you closer to him.
You feel the heat of his body against yours, the closeness intensifying the sensation of his lips moving against yours. His touch is gentle yet possessive, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as if memorizing every curve of your body.
You pull away, staring and laughing for a moment. 
"I love you," you whisper softly. 
"I love you more," he smiles back, quietly leaning his forehead against yours to quickly catch his lips on yours again. Maybe writing that article wasn't so bad after all.
740 notes · View notes
dira333 · 3 months
Text
This Is Me Trying - Kageyama x Reader
there's one line missing that I'd have loved to include but I am still pretty okay with how this turned out instead.
Tagging: @alienaiver for helping, @screamin-abt-haikyuu and @lees-chaotic-brain for Haikyuu
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“Where’s Kageyama?”
The rest of the team turns at Hinata’s question, but their first-year setter is nowhere to be seen. 
“Not this again,” Daichi mutters in frustration, thinking back to Hinata’s missing shoes the day before. “We’ve got twenty minutes before our next game. I want us to all go in teams. Hinata, you’re with me. I cannot have you get lost as well.”
- Meanwhile -
“How long have you been playing volleyball? Who taught you? How long have you been a setter? How do you train? Do you get along with your team members? Have you ever hit a wall?”
“Huh?” You turn to the guy creeping up behind you, a bag clutched in his hands as he stares you down. Your teammates are sending both of you curious looks and you can tell that your Captain is just a second away from interfering.
“Can I help you?” You ask, surprised when he flinches away, stuttering. 
“I- am… I am Kageyama Tobio.” He bows so abruptly and so deeply that you fear for his spine. “I saw you play yesterday.”
“Ah?” You blink. “What school are you from?”
“Karasuno.”
“Oh,” you blink again. “I saw you play as well. You’re their setter. What year are you in?”
“First. Your serve-”
“Alright, alright.” You pull him to the side by his arm and wave at your Captain before she can do something more drastic. “I have to say your drive is admirable, but you’re not the first person to ask for my secrets. Why would I tell you?”
Kageyama considers that for a second, brows furrowing. He’s really not good at making his face work for him. It might look cute though, if he relaxed a little. 
“I wanna stay on the court the longest,” he declares, face set in a scowl that could turn milk sour.”
“Again, you’re not the only one. You gotta impress me a little more, Kageyama-kun.” You snip two fingers against his temple, watch him almost short-circuit at the sensation.
To your surprise, Kageyama bows again.
“I want to spend more time playing with this team. I am not good with people. You are good with people. I need to learn more.”
“Fine,” you tell him after a second. “Gimme your phone.”
He doesn’t stop watching you as you type in your number. “If you win today as well, you can send me details about your play. Don’t forget to tell me where you’re staying. I’ll come by and we’ll talk about it, okay? Can’t promise it will help, though.”
“Kageyama!” Someone yells at that moment, and he turns to find two guys waving at him. One of them has a shaved head, the other has a bleached strand of hair sticking up like a lightning strike.
“Good luck,” you tell him, patting his shoulder. Kageyama leaves with one last look back at you.
“You’re in trouble!” Shaved head sings as he joins them. “Daichi’s mad as hell, looking for you. All because of a cute girl?”
“I didn’t- She isn’t-” He looks back as if to check, blushing bright red when he spots you still looking at him. “I wanted to know more about her technique, that’s all.”
Both guys laugh loudly. “You really are something else, Kageyama.” The guy with the Lighting Strike declares and then they’re gone.
“Why did you give him your number?” Your libero asks when you join the team again. “Aren’t you afraid he’s going to murder you for your skin?”
“No,” You laugh softly. “He reminded me of someone, that’s all.”
Karasuno wins. So do you. 
No one pays you any mind when you slip out of the hotel you’re staying in, jogging down the streets to where Kageyama’s team is staying.
“Oh,” Shaved Head spots you at the front door. “You’re the cute girl Kageyama found.”
“I am,” you grin, “I’m looking for him. Is he around?”
“Kageyama!” He hollers down the hallway. “Uh, he’s in the bathroom, I think. I’m Tanaka by the way. What team are you playing in?”
“Niiyama,” you explain and his eyes light up. “No way, you’re playing with Kanoka.”
“Exactly. You know her?”
“Yeah, we’re childhood besties. So, you won today, right?”
“Yep. Don’t know if she told you, but we’re thinking about making Kanoka Captain next year.”
“You are. Wow. Does she know alrea-” “I’m here!” Kageyama declares from the door, wet hair sticking to his flushed face. 
“Oh, you showered already?” You ask, “I thought we could do a run-”
“Right away,” Kageyama declares, already slipping into the shoes by the door.
“Forget it, hotshot,” you put a hand on his shoulders and drag him away, “not when your hair is still wet. You’re going to get a cold. It’s fine, it’s fine, we can still work without running around.”
And you do. Even though you have to pretend you don’t notice every single member of his team walking by, peeking into the little lobby, trying to catch parts of your conversation with him.
Kageyama, however, will not let himself get distracted. He’s sucking up every word you say and, as soon as you’ve figured out how he thinks, is able to discuss ideas with you at an impressive rate.
“So…” You lean back a little after almost an hour, ignoring the little red-haired guy who’s sitting at the door, listening in. “What are your plans? Do you want to become Captain in your Third Year? Make it to Nationals every Year? Play professionally after High School or go to College first?”
“I don’t have good grades,” Kageyama points out. “I just want to stay on Court for as long as possible. Play my best.”
“Hmmm,” you get up. “Tell you what. You have my number. Make it through these Nationals and go back home. Let me know how you’re feeling next school year, okay?”
“Okay.” He shakes your hand and bows deeply, staying far too long in the open doorway, looking after you as you leave.
You don’t feel you’ve done a lot for him today. You just listened, explained a few things, told him about your perspective.
But he’s acting like you’ve changed his world and you wonder if you did. And if so, in what way…
Kageyama’s sleeping on your bedroom floor.
Your mother would throw a fit if she knew, but she’s gone for the weekend and Kageyama took the three-hour train ride in stride just to spend a weekend training with you.
College Volleyball isn’t much different from High School Volleyball, except for the harsher course load. 
He’d been updating you weekly with the teams and his own progress, updates coming in more often when it turned out that the team had problems adapting to the new Captain, or rather, the lack of their old. 
“You miss Sugawara,” you point out only half an hour after he’s arrived. 
He looks surprised at first, but then easily gives in.
“I’m still not good at connecting with my teammates.”
“Have you tried the exercises that I gave you?”
He scowls and you laugh. “Come on, Kageyama, I know you’re better than that. Practice with me, then.”
Stiffly, he turns his head. “How are you doing lately?”
You laugh again, louder this time. “You’ve got to work on your expressions, but I’m doing okay, I guess. I don’t have that much time for training because of College, so I feel like I’m falling behind.”
Kageyama falls quiet and you nudge your elbow into his side.
“This is your chance to say ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Can I do something for you?’”
“Why did you go to College if it takes away time from playing Volleyball?” He asks instead and you stop, surprised by his question.
“Because I want something to fall back on if I can’t make it in Volleyball. What if I get hurt? What if I no longer want to play?”
Kageyama scowls. “Why would you want to stop playing?”
“What are you going to do when you’re too old to play professionally?” You ask back and he falls quiet. For the remainder of your run, he’s unreachable to you. Whatever he’s thinking about, he’s far, far away.
“What am I supposed to do instead?” He asks eventually, bangs hiding his eyes.
You’re stretching and he follows your movements, intent on copying you, as usual. As if you have all the answers in the world.
“Tell me about your Childhood, Tobio,” you ask instead.
That’s how you end up, him sleeping on your bedroom floor and you craving nothing more than to pick him up and hug him so tight that all the loneliness drains out of him.
You’re no stranger to grief, but it’s so different when you have to watch someone you care about in its clutches.
Karasuno doesn’t make it to the Nationals in their second year. Tobio still gets invited to this Year’s Youth Camp and you make sure to take that weekend off, taking the same train so you can sit next to him for three of his eight-hour ride, listening to him ramble on about school, Hinata, Volleyball. 
“You’re going to do great,” you tell him, wondering how it happened that you’re now feeling this way. As if he punctured your heart and crawled inside, making it his home without realizing it.
Third-Year Tobio is a heartbreaker. 
He tells you about the confessions he gets with the naivety of someone much younger. Every single time you have to force yourself to ask “And what did you answer?” only to hear that he’s declined, yet again.
You wonder what he’s thinking of you. You’re still a Star Setter, but do you have anything left to teach him? You think Sugawara did a way better job at that anyway. 
But he still makes the three-hour ride at least once every two months, sleeping on your bedroom floor when your mom is away for the weekend. 
One time you take his hand in a crowded train station and he doesn’t let go.
If only you could let yourself have this. 
But does he even think about you that way?
X
“Sugawara-senpai?” Kageyama asks, phone pressed hard against his ear. “What do you wear on a sleepover?”
He sits amidst his things, a volleyball in his lap.
“Pajamas, usually. Why do you ask?”
“Even if it’s with a girl?”
Sugawara sounds like he’s choking.
“A sleepover with a girl? Boy, you’re- wait, who are you sleeping at?”
Kageyama says your name with the familiar feeling of pride that comes with it.
He was the one who approached you and he’s the one who still gets to text and call you, visit you even. Not Hinata, who can make everyone like him, or Tsukishima, who’s somehow getting love confessions even though he’s an ass. 
“Well, it depends… on what you’ve already done together.”
“Done together?” Kageyama furrows his brows. “We’ve analyzed our games. And I get to play with her friends sometimes.”
“Kageyama.” Sugawara’s voice is serious. “I need to ask you this. Why are you sleeping over?”
“Because she lives far away and I can’t make both treks in one day.”
“I get that, but… why are you visiting her anyway? Just to get more tips?”
Kageyama halts for a second. “I… don’t know.”
“Mhm. Thought so. You know, most boys sleeping over at girls' houses have more than just Volleyball tips in mind.”
“She’s giving me tips on how to get along with my teammates as well,” He explains, but Sugawara just chuckles low in his throat.
“That’s not what I meant. I guess you know what it’s going to look like, right? That’s why you’re asking what to wear?”
Kageyama digs his knees into the floor of his room and bits down on his lip but the words still tumble out.
“I’ve never been on a sleepover before. One that’s not the whole team sleeping somewhere, I mean. I didn’t want to ask Hinata because he’s got so many friends and he might think-”
“Ah…” Sugawara interrupts him. “I get it. Don’t worry. We’ll go over this like we did with the topic of Smalltalk, okay? Basic steps first, then some finer things. Would that help?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Girl’s rooms look different than boy’s rooms, Kageyama knows.
His sister’s room is filled with pictures of celebrities, make-up, and accessories have driven out anything volleyball-related long ago.
Yachi’s room is colorful, with little designer pieces and cute stationery she likes to collect.
Yours is different altogether.
The prizes you won are proudly displayed, next to a collection of textbooks. There’s a bed and a small closet and you serve him tea on the floor of your room, giggling over the stories he tells from training.
Kageyama likes talking to you. Just like Sugawara, you never mind when his words come out more brash than they should, or when he can’t figure out how to word a question right. You’ve got kind eyes and a soft smile and you touch him more often than other people.
Telling you about his grandfather or his fear of ending up alone again - the words might not come easy, but you handle them gently, like it’s safe to let them rest with you.
You snore a little, he figures out that first night. The softest sound he wants to never forget.
Sleeping over at a friend’s house is something he wants to do again and again, talking low in the darkness, knowing that someone who cares is just a short distance away.
When he has to leave you hug him goodbye. 
For the first time, he thinks he knows why people do it, this seemingly unnecessary ritual of enveloping each other.
For the first time, he thinks about not letting go.
But his train’s going to leave without him and you wave until the train station is out of sight. Kageyama likes to think you waved a little longer. Just because.
“Are you away this weekend, Kageyama?” Has become a regular question. 
Hinata’s no longer pestering him with questions about his private training sessions on the weekend. 
He’s getting better at working with the new First Years and a new invite for the National Youth Camp has him reach for the phone to call you.
He’s more nervous than last time and he wonders if it’s about you, sitting next to him on the train, legs pressed together on the small seats. 
You smell sweet and he wonders if he could hug, just like that, just because. 
Do people do that? Just hug for no reason but to touch? He should ask Sugawara about it.
“You’re going to do great,” you say and he wants to promise that he will, just for you.
But he doesn’t, because that would sound weird, wouldn’t it? 
After all, he’s so much younger than you. 
Do you even think about him in that way? The way he thinks about you?
Your hand fits perfectly in his.
Kageyama knows the taste of your favorite dessert and always has some money saved to buy you a flower or two at the train station before he gets to your house.
Sometimes, when you sleep, you mumble his name and he can hardly make himself fall asleep because he wants to hear it all, every quiet mention, mumble or snore.
You’re real and you like him, still.
“Are you coming?” He asks when they get through the Qualifiers; when he knows he will make it to the Nationals one last time with this team.
“Of course,” you say and his heart leaps into his throat. 
Kageyama almost tells you, then and there, that he thinks this might be love.
But it doesn’t feel right, over the phone like that, so he pulls the words back before they can spill from his lips.
He will tell you, he promises to himself after they win. This time, Karasuno will be the last one standing in Tokyo.
X
“Oh, you’re here as well,” a guy with greyish hair and a beauty mark beneath his eye waves at you, “We’re sitting over here.”
“Do I know you?” You ask, taking the offered seat nonetheless. The guy pouts and his friends laugh.
“I’m Sugawara,” he explains, “Kageyama’s Senpai. These two are Daichi and Asahi, not that you’d recognize them, right?”
You laugh. “No, guilty as charged. I don’t think I remember any names from your team besides Tanaka and Kageyama.”
“Someone called my name?” Tanaka jumps down the last two steps leading to your seats, grinning. “Kiyoko, they’re already here, Babe.” He waits for his girlfriend to take a seat before leaning in. 
“You’re Kageyama’s girlfriend, right?”
“Oh, it’s not- I…” You wave your hands around awkwardly, not knowing what to say. Tanaka laughs.
“Ah, I knew it, I knew it. No way he’s got that much game. But he’s got lots of talent, don’t you think.”
“He does,” you take the offered topic, lament about their Kohai’s talents for over half an hour until the players finally arrive, warming for their first game. More of Karasuno’s former players have gathered around you, as well as a taiko drum group.
Sugawara lets out a shrill whistle using two fingers and most of the Karasuno players look up, obviously used to the signal.
You wave, hoping against hope that Tobio will be able to pick you out of the crowd.
From this distance, it’s hard to tell, but that frown could mean he’s smiling. Sugawara starts to point at you exaggeratedly and you slap his hands away but it’s too late. 
Tobio has already turned away.
He doesn’t play well at the beginning. Everyone notices.
It takes him a while to find his grove but when he does, he does.
Then it’s over and you wish to do nothing more but to run down and hug him. But it’s safer up here, you know, where your heart won’t leap out of your throat.
But then you have to leave, get up, and move, because the Niiyama Girls are playing in the other hall and you promised you’d watch their game too, knowing that it would sync up perfectly with Karasuno’s rest period.
“I’m going to be back for the next game,” you promise, “so don’t give my seat away.”
Your heart still hammers in your chest as you walk down the staircase.
If only you could keep these moments, locked up in a mason jar, take them out on bad days to relive them again.
“Are you leaving already?” Tobio’s looking up at you, sweat slick hair sticking to his temple, face flushed from exertion.
“I’m just moving to the other stadion to watch the Niiyama Girls,” you explain, pull him in for a hug when you reach him. “You were amazing.”
“Thank you,” his hot breath tickles your neck and maybe you’re imagining it, but you think you feel his heart racing through the thin jersey.
“Your start was messy though,” you reprimand him, your hand moving on its own to shuffle through his hair, putting each strand back where it belongs. “But you saved your ass. I’m going to be back for your next game, don’t worry.”
“I could come with you,” he rushes out. “It doesn’t really matter where I rest, right?”
You catch a look from Karasuno’s captain over Tobio’s shoulder. A smile dances over his freckled face and he makes a face that tells you everything you need to know.
“Fine,” you tell him, knowing that a ‘No’ would never work here, “But you should put on a jacket.”
His hand finds yours on the way to the other game, his grip warm and strong.
You don’t want to ever let go, but you still do, knowing full well how it would look like to your Kouhai’s. You’ve never had a boyfriend in the whole time you played with them. 
And even though the first years still remember Tobio showing up back then, you don’t want to give them any ideas that might come back to break your heart.
“You and Sugawara-senpai,” Tobio starts as soon as you’re sitting, “did you get along well?”
“I guess so,” your leg is pressed against his, the sensation shooting up your spine and into your brain. “He’s nice.”
“How nice?” He asks, voice so low you almost miss it.
You blink. The words are out before you’ve thought them through.
“Are you jealous, Tobio?”
“Should I be?”
You’re not sure how he means it. Teasing? Or is he unsure of this social construct, asking for an explanation?
He takes your hand, looks at it as if checking for injuries. “Would you hold my hand if Sugawara was here as well?”
Your mouth turns dry.
“Would I be allowed?” You ask. “I mean, I’m a lot older than you-”
“I like you.” He blurts it out like he blurts out most things. Two guys in front of you turn around with matching frowns. You’re sure they didn’t come here to hear your love confessions.
“We should talk about this later,” you whisper, cheeks burning. You press his hand. “I like you too, don’t worry.”
“Can’t we talk now?”
And maybe it would have been better to slip out and talk about it, but you’ve never once missed a minute of a game you wanted to see and Tobio’s hand doesn’t leave yours, his grip warm and heavy, his leg pressing into yours.
There’s much to talk about after this game ends and all the other ones today. There’s graduation and other things to consider, but you can’t help but think that it will be okay.
As long as his hand stays in yours, it will be okay.
“Where’s Kageyama?”
You turn to spot Sugawara looking through the crowd.
“Bathroom,” you explain. “I think he had a bit too much to drink.”
“Ah,” Sugawara smiles. “Haven’t had the time to properly talk to you today. How are you? How’s work doing?”
“Good and good. Our last match-”
“I know,” Sugawara smiles. “Kageyama tells me everything. He still calls every week to update me. He spent an hour boasting about that game.”
“Oh,” you blink, a little surprised and a lot flattered. “Wait, is that when he locks himself in our pantry for half an hour each Friday?”
Sugawara laughs. “He’s been asking for my advice for years and I don’t think he’s going to stop soon. I thought you knew, actually.”
“Well, I knew you taught him a lot concerning Volleyball, but this sounds like you did a lot more. Tell me the details, Sugawara-san.”
Sugawara grins cheekily, checking to see if Tobio’s still nowhere to be seen.
“When he spent the weekend at your place for the first time he asked me all kinds of questions. I’m the one who picked out the sleepwear he brought. He usually slept only in boxers or nothing at all depending on the temperature.”
You feel the heat rising to your cheeks. “I see. Thank you’s are in order.”
“Uhuh,” Sugawara winks. “Nothing to thank me for. You two deserve each other.”
“That just sounded mildly threatening,” you joke just as Tobio returns, threading his arm through yours.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your weekly talks with Sugawara-san,” you lean into him. “And the fact that you only wear sleepwear because of him.”
Tobio blushes a soft red. “You said you liked my Volleyball Pajamas.”
“I do. They are adorable.”
Tip me?
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norrizzandpia · 3 months
Note
if we're adding more to the Oscar verse can we please get a peek into the time when they weren't together but everyone could feel it coming 🥺🫣🥹 ALSO BESTIE OUR BOYS POSTING ICE BATH PHOTOS HAD ME KICKING MY FEET AND GIGGLING
BRO I KNOW EXACTLY WHICH ICE BATH PICS YOURE TALKING ABT AND WHEN I TELL YOU THOSE CAME OUT AND I DIED, I. DIED.
I love McLaren so much for that post
ANYWAYSSSSS this is from my older Oscar social media au titled best friends to benefits to lovers.
It’s basically a prequel because it takes place before they got together and were just bsfs with benefits
Just Benefits Right Now (OP81)
Summary: It’s common knowledge they love each other. Just not to them - even when they’re sleeping together.
Warnings: fluff, pining, YEARNING, sexual conversations and innuendos, Oscar and yn being dumbasses, language
Note: this is very much casual by Chappell roan and risk by Gracie Abram’s coded
“Can I be honest?” Oscar asks from the other side of the table at breakfast. Y/n sits staring at him, a certain feeling in her stomach that gnaws uncomfortably at her insides.
She nods, “Always.”
He takes a deep breath and it almost feels as though her body is anticipating something she’s always been waiting to hear. What she’s meant to be anticipating, she has no idea.
“How would this be a good idea?” His eyes avert from hers and her stomach finally settles. Oh. Her discomfort was linked to the massive, life-changing scenario she presented Oscar the night before. Friends with benefits. What could go wrong? They loved each other and hadn’t slept with anyone in months, it was getting to the both of them. They wanted the best for each other and each could lend a helping hand to the other’s problem. No strings attached. That’s what she had said.
She shrugs, “We’re both antsy from not getting laid. This could take the edge off. It might even help your racing.”
He laughs and Y/n smiles, “Can I think about it?”
“You asked that last night and I agreed. That hasn’t changed.” She reaches over the table and lays her hand over his. Her soft thumb rubs over his skin and his whole body warms.
The warmth makes him give in, “You know what? I’m down. We’ve been friends for years, nothing could change that.”
She nods and smiles, but there’s an unsettling hesitation to her agreement. Pushing it aside, Y/n giggles as she asks him when they should fully go through with the new plan. There’s a slight blush to their faces as they discuss and they deduce it’s from the unusual topic.
The stirring stomachs and slight relief filling their bodies is not something their minds decide to address.
Lando hears the giggling from down the hall. His light chuckling as he stands completely alone makes him look insane as engineers pass by him, but the man has never been one to shy from social anxiety.
His knuckles rap against the door softly, trying not to disturb the friends in their fun. The volume decreases after a few seconds as Oscar’s heavy footsteps meet the threshold. It opens and Lando shoves his way through, Y/n rolling her eyes at him.
“Come on in, Lan.” Her tone is dry and sarcastic, but Lando sees the sparkle in her eye. Sure, the sparkle was usually bigger when directed at Oscar, but he knew that was a sign of her adoration nonetheless.
He plops down next to her, his arm around her shoulders, as Oscar closes the door. Amidst their greetings, Lando misses the way Oscar’s face contorts into something akin to jealousy at how cuddly his friend and his best friend seem to be. He shakes it off. Y/n is single despite their plans to find each other in white sheets. If she wants to flirt with Lando, so be it.
It still irks him though.
“We have an interview to get to, Osc. PR is making me come to summon you. They seem to think I’ll be able to lure you away from Y/n quick enough.” Lando explains, his eyes drifting between the two. Something about the way Oscar’s hands twitch at his sides and Y/n’s fingers pick at the skin around her nails tips him off to the tension. Tension between Oscar and Y/n is not surprising considering their confusing relationship, but this is more sexual. It’s not even as if that’s surprising, Lando’s just never seen it play out in front of him before. Drunk Oscar is quite open about how attractive he thinks Y/n is, there’s no doubt he’s had suggestive thoughts about her. Same goes for Y/n. Drunk words are sober thoughts, no?
He’s almost contemplating the possibility of them having found each other on an alcohol-loving night, leading to clothes on the floor, but the strained nature of the two makes him second guess it. If they would have had sex together, Oscar would’ve never let her go. Lando knows that.
What’s this then? What’s with the new wandering eyes and brighter smiles? Or the recently discovered confidence to make their feelings so obvious?
Lando practically wipes the drool off of Oscar’s chin as he stands from the couch in the corner of the room, untangling himself from Y/n, and grabbing Oscar’s arm to lead him out of the room.
“Have fun! Be quick!” Y/n shouts as they leave. Oscar nods and smiles at her before the door closes fully, yelling back about how fast he would be.
The exchange is too flirty compared to the usual Oscar and Y/n. The cheeky grins and reassurance on how short of a time they would have to be apart makes Lando question Oscar immediately.
“Did you two fuck or something?” His hands are up in the air, completely lost at the two. Lando has always wanted the friends to wake the fuck up and confess how much they’ve always loved each other, but this doesn’t feel like that. This feels lustful and not at all like how he would expect the two to act after having found out about love shared.
The dreaded words leave Oscar and Lando almost claws his eyes out, “No, we didn’t. But, we’re talking about, like a friends with benefits type thing.”
Lando halts, “No, Oscar. You guys can’t be friends with benefits.”
Oscar’s eyebrows scrunch together and he puts his hands on his hips, “Why not? Who are you to tell us what we can and can’t do?”
Lando groans, “Because! I’ve been where you are, in love with someone and taking anything I could get to be closer with them. It never ends well. Especially friends with benefits.”
“Who said anything about being in love?!” Oscar’s eyes practically bulge out his head, his arms flinging out by his sides.
Lando goes quiet and his head cocks to the side. No words are spoken, none can be said. Lando refuses to tell Oscar how he feels, but he also refuses to lie. It’s a look of plea, please be serious right now, but that’s as far as they get. Oscar turns around, clearly frustrated, and walks down the stairs to where they’re needed. Lando lets him go, putting space between them, and stares at the picture of them hanging on the wall beside him. Taken in Suzuka with their trophies, their smiles are so big. Lando wants Oscar to be that happy and stress-free again, but, then again, when was Oscar ever?
Y/n and Oscar have known each other for years, this cycle having always existed. No matter how many times Lando could try to say it, try to make Oscar wake up, he wouldn’t get it. Or, if he did, he wouldn’t come to terms with it.
Because of that, this friends with benefits plan was destined to fail miserably.
The door slams shut behind them and quiet fills the room. Y/n and Oscar stand side by side in his apartment, a translucent look to their skin.
They shuffle to his room, careful not to wake his roommates. The next slamming is Oscar’s personal door, solidifying the start of their attempt at sleeping together. His hand gently finds hers, but neither dare to look at the other. They stare at his bed and link fingers.
“What do we do now?” She whispers. It’s a stupid question, she knows that and so does he, but he doesn’t say it. He simply squeezes her palm and finally turns so his body stands in front of hers.
His long fingers play with the sleeve of her shirt, “Can I take this off?”
HIs deep brown eyes bear into hers, helping her get more comfortable with the situation, and she nods.
“I’m gonna need words, Y/n.” His lips kiss her ear, his voice soft.
Her breath is hot against the skin of his neck, “Yes, Oscar.”
And with that, the first item of clothing falls to the floor. Neither of them is prepared for whatever transpires between them. From the way Oscar holds her to the gentleness of their eyes, things stray away from what they had prepared.
No strings attached. Casual. Friends with benefits. This is what this was. That’s all. But, they were beginning to find out it was hard being casual when the other was someone they had cherished for so long, someone who had taken residence in the other’s heart. Oscar admired her and her strength. She admired his sympathy. Now they admired the way the other touched, the way the other sounded. At their most vulnerable, the friends found a gray area. A gray area that had always been there, but was only now so obvious with how naked they were.
Nonetheless, they were still friends, and still claimed the title as friends with benefits. Casual, no strings attached was some sort of chant in their minds when they both agreed it was best if Y/n didn’t sleep over, that she leave the minute they were done. And when he closed the door on her, hearing her walk down the hallway and out of the building, Oscar closed his eyes and breathed.
The weight on his heart made it hard to continue the mantra.
This was the weirdest Lando had seen Oscar and Y/n. Their touches were fleeting as if once their skin met, they realized what they were doing and pulled away. Usually, they drank in the softness of the other like it was something that would be gone tomorrow. Now, it’s like they’re nervous to cross some sort of line.
It clicks in Lando’s mind.
The line’s already been crossed, forcing them into unknown territory. His warnings and pleas for logical thinking went ignored by Oscar. Friends with benefits it was.
He looms over the two, “Oscar, I need to talk to you.”
Y/n and Oscar exchange a look, something harsh in Lando’s tone, but he goes with the man anyway.
Lando drags him by the arm to a small room out of the way, closing the door and turning around to stare at Oscar.
“What?” He asks, but he already knows. He’s sweating under Lando’s glare.
Lando folds his arms across his chest, “You’re not dumb, Oscar. You know this isn’t going to go well.”
Oscar scoffs, “You don’t know that! It could go anyway! We’ll stay friends. It’ll be fine. Once one of us finds someone else, we’ll stop.”
“And what happens then? When you have to see her with another guy, knowing what it’s like to have her that way? Or vice versa?” Lando counters. He takes a step toward Oscar.
Oscar takes a step back, “It wouldn’t be that way.”
“So, you’re telling me that you’d stop having sex with her and then you’d just completely go back to being platonic with her? You’d know what it’d be like to have her that way and all of a sudden, you think you’d be able to turn it off? On top of everything that started before this?”
This time, Oscar doesn’t argue or act stupid when Lando mentions the supposed feelings he believes Oscar to have. At this point, Oscar can’t bring himself to admit to anything. He can’t say he doesn’t love her nor can he say he does. He can’t say they’re just casual nor can he say that they are. It’s been a few weeks of having her naked under him and it’s all he can think about. He loves knowing that side of her, having her trust him enough to give him that side. Though, he doesn’t know how serious it all is to her because of her lack of interest in staying after. He wants her to, doesn’t want her to feel as though he’s using her, but she’s so adamant.
It’s fine, he tells himself. They’re just friends, she can leave whenever she wants.
Still, Lando’s words cut into his skin, sharp and painful. He’s right, Oscar won’t ever be able to unsee her unraveling with him, but he wants to believe he can. He wants to believe that he still wants them to be just friends as they get into all of this, that he’s fine with continuing to be friends with benefits.
The idea of her being with another man, not just in bed, makes his skin crawl. To experience and be forced to be cordial with a man that has what’s hi- what he knows now isn’t something he thinks he could do.
In all his stubbornness, Oscar can’t let Lando be right. “Yes. It wouldn’t be that hard.”
It’s already hard to say goodbye to her now. Saying goodbye to her completely in that sense sounds impossible.
Lando looks at him as if he knows it too. He sighs, “Alright, fine. I believe you. But, if you ever need someone to talk to, if you’re ever confused…”
The two share a glance and Oscar nods, “I know. You’re there.”
When he emerges from the room, Y/n is staring intensely at the door. He sits down next to her and she leans forward. Her perfume replaces the rationality in his head.
“What was that all about?” She whispers, looking up at him with her kind eyes.
He smiles, dimples deep and permanent around her, “Just racing stuff. Strategies we need to keep quiet and all that.”
She nods and it seems as though the perfume hasn’t completely left him mentally helpless.
“Fuck, Y/n.” Oscar pants as he rolls off her. Their fingers lace together under the blankets and Y/n’s face turns to the side to smile at him.
She doesn’t move from her spot, giving Oscar hope she won’t leave, but when her body slugs over the side of the bed and begins getting dressed, his actions forget to check in with his head.
His hand grasps hers tightly, holding her from getting too far away. She looks down, her eyes to their hands before moving to his eyes. They’re dilated and big, puppy-like.
She runs her other hand through his hair and he sighs, “Please, stay.”
The two words are soft and hang in the air around her. They’re daunting, suggesting a break in the meticulous rules they set to protect themselves. She’s so close to saying no, to completely running from the situation and Oscar himself, but he holds her so tight, like he knows she’s slipping away, it’s hard to reject him.
Her gaze moves to the door and Oscar holds her tighter, “Y/n, it doesn’t mean anything, remember? I just don’t want to be alone after the race.”
Ah, the race. For fucks sake. Of course, he only wants her to stay because of the bad race he had. How could she be so stupid? It doesn’t mean anything. This isn’t supposed to mean anything. It doesn’t to him. He only seeks comfort in his best friend, the one person he’s always looked to when things didn’t go right. Y/n falls back into his bed, defeated. Some part of her, even though it had been scary, wanted him to want something more. She wanted him to break the rules with her. Yet, she lives in a world where the only way she can get close to Oscar in the way she craves is through this. This horrifying, painful excuse of a relationship, a friendship. Whatever you wanted to call it. When all is said and done, he’ll go back to dating women he loves and she’ll live with the memories of him above her, pleading with her to stay for reasons she hates.
To know she had been the one to suggest this, to get herself into this complicated situation, hurts the most. There is a world where she doesn’t know this. A world where Oscar doesn’t hold her in the way he is or touch her in the way he does. That world seems less cruel.
Though, she finds herself here. Oscar’s chin on top of her head as his breathing evens out, sleep finding him. His arms are wrapped around her body and his chest meets hers every time it expands with air.
What she wants is to not be here, not experience him in this way, but it’s too good to give up. To stop all of this too soon would be denying her heart something she’s wanted ever since she met him years ago. She couldn’t ever bring herself to do that.
So, she keeps her eyes open, fighting off the sleep she wants so bad, so when he ends this, she’ll remember what it was like to sleep next to him.
Small snippets of music from TikTok play from the phones of Oscar and Y/n as they lay against each other in his room. A video of a couple laughing together as they kiss and cook in a kitchen loops itself on her screen. She stares at them, wondering if that’s what people see when they see her and Oscar. Knowing what her friends and family have said in regard to the way Oscar and her act toward one another, she pictures him looking at her with this much love.
Surely, she always tells them, if he looked at her with such care, she would notice. What she can’t tell them is that the way he looks at her is pure lust, something that’s self-explanatory as they find each other every night to feed certain urges.
“You’ve been watching that for a while.” Oscar says, his hand trailing from her arm to her hair and pushing it out of the way. She sits up, his touch being so hard to stomach with the thoughts rushing in her mind.
The noise from his phone stops as he turns it off and throws it to the side, suddenly concerned for how stoic Y/n is. He sits up next to her, shoulder-to-shoulder.
Again, his touch is too much to take, so she moves from the bed and stands at its foot.
Now, Oscar’s really worried.
“What’s wrong?” He clambers over to her, sitting in front of her and staring up at her nervous face.
It all comes out like word-vomit, “What if I’m never loved?”
She doesn’t even know where that notion comes from, but it’s a genuine worry. It always has been for her, just one that’s gone unsaid.
Oscar reels back, “Don’t say that.”
She huffs, “Why?”
He’s very clearly speechless, his mouth hanging open as he scoffs. “Because.”
“Why because?” She tries again. For some reason, knowing Oscar still doesn’t want her in the way she does him even when he has her sexually makes her panic that no man could want her if one has her body and still doesn’t choose to love her. It’s drowning and stressful, but, at this moment, all Y/n sees is her best friend, not the man she sleeps with, and she seeks his reassurance.
Oscar takes a breath, “Because, of course, you’ll be loved, Y/n. It’s easy to love you. You’ll find the one and it won’t be hard for them to love you.”
What if I don’t want the one, she thinks.
“How do you know that?” She counters, tears pricking her eyes.
Oscar visibly softens, his words coming out faster than he likes, “Because I love you.”
The three words are something she’s heard from him multiple times, but now, with the frequent benefits, she finds herself searching for more meaning. Three words she has wanted so badly to shift away from platonic and to romantic begin to with the way he looks at her. It’s as if the world falls away and what is left is only her. She watches the brown eyes dilate completely, only black color being left to be seen. She watches him stare at her with the utmost respect and sincerity.
This can’t be friends, can it?
“You love me in a friend way, Oscar.” She clarifies, hoping for him to give her something that suggests what’s unfolding in front of her eyes.
He hardens immediately, “Yeah, but I still love you. If I love you as platonically as I do, it won’t be hard for someone to love you romantically.”
She stares at him. He mistakes pain for confusion.
“Think about it like this,” He begins, “You love me platonically. But, it’s easy for you to see someone loving me romantically because of how much you love me just as I am. Platonic love can easily find itself to be romantic love.”
She misses his last sentence and the underlying meaning of it because she’s too hung up on the one component he misses in his analogy.
That she loves him. Not platonically, but romantically.
The next week, Y/n can’t bring herself to see Oscar. Multiple excuses of being busy or having some sort of appointment to go to, she dodges his every try to see her. Her realization that she’s fully in love with him hit her hard and it must’ve been clear to Oscar with the way he pestered her after she fled his apartment that day. In a heap of tears and anxiety, Y/n mumbled some random excuse about needing to leave and practically ran from Oscar when he tried to question her. He was confused, but tried to leave it at the fact that she probably got upset over her emotional confession and just wanted to be alone. He tried, but he still found himself wandering to the possibility she got upset over the fact that he was focusing so heavily on his (made up) platonic love for her.
Remembering the one person that had warned him about the mess he would find himself in, Oscar calls Lando.
After two rings, the British accent fills the speaker.
“Is everything okay?” Lando asks, as if he already knows.
Oscar is quiet for a moment before calmly speaking, “I haven’t seen Y/n in a week.”
There’s a small sigh on the other end of the phone, “Why do I need to know that, Oscar?”
“Because you told me you’d always be there for me if I ever got confused.”
“So, you’re confused?”
“Yes.”
“About her?”
“I love her, Lando.”
What once seemed to be the whispered gossip of the paddock is now a firm fact as Oscar finally admits to something everyone had always suspected.
Lando tries to hide the smile in his voice, but Oscar hears it anyway. “And what do you want to do with that information?”
Oscar rubs a hand over his face, “I don’t know.”
Lando grunts, “You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not. The last time we spoke she ran out of my apartment after I had spoken about how much I loved her platonically. That could either mean she got upset that I seemed to only love her platonically or she noticed the way I was adamant in that I loved her just as a friend that she realized I did love her romantically and panicked. She either loves me or she doesn’t and I can’t tell.” Oscar rambles. His palms are sweating and it almost feels as though his entire life is falling apart in front of him. Admitting what he just did either means losing the one person he values most in his life or finally getting to experience love the way it should be.
Lando smiles, thinking how cute this all is as he witnesses a massive love story for himself, “I think you should just tell her, Osc.”
Oscar laughs, “That’s it? That’s all you have to say? That’s the advice you promised you’d always be there to give me when I was fucking completely lost in my life?”
Lando nods, “Yep. Now follow it. Thanks.” He ends the call before Oscar can grill him on why he’s so confident in Y/n loving him back that Oscar’s only action to do is tell her how he feels.
The man is left to stare at his phone, his Lock Screen to be more specific. A picture of Y/n and him after his sprint win. The sparkles in her eyes, the ones he always loved from afar, are the most prominent here compared to every other time he’s gotten them photographed. It’s the reason he set it as his background.
His inner monologue, reminding him of why this photo sat proudly on his phone, is what pushes him to pick up his coat, rush from his home, and delete his train ticket.
The ticket that was meant to get him to the city where the hotel he would be staying at for the SIlverstone Grand Prix was. The ticket that ensured he raced, did his job, gone from his phone.
In the back of his mind were the texts Y/n sent him, telling him they shouldn’t meet because he needed to prepare for the race. Knowing she used that as a way to distance herself from him, whether that was because she loved him or didn’t, he needed to know why. If she didn’t love him, at least he tried but, if she did, what a world he would get to be acquainted with.
After all, he’s always had to fight for the things he loves.
The pounding on her door makes Y/n grab a knife. It’s so late at night, the only person who would reasonably be at her door is Oscar but, after all her deflections, she knows it’s not him.
Or so she thought.
Oscar stands with his head held high, but it plummets when he sees her grasp on the weapon.
“Jesus Christ, Y/n! What the fuck?!” He yelps, jumping away from the door with his hands up.
She scoffs, “What do you mean?! What’re you doing here? Your train leaves in like five hours! You should be asleep or packing!”
She’s panicked. He can’t be here. The majority of her is so susceptible to just giving in and telling him how much she loves everything about him. Being around him means jeopardizing what little she has.
Oscar shakes his head, “I deleted my ticket. I’m not going.”
The knife clatters to her feet and Oscar screams out. She shushes him before ushering him inside whilst looking outside, making sure he didn’t disturb any of her neighbors. When they’re comfortable inside with the door closed, she whips around and jabs a finger in his chest, “Why did you delete your ticket?!”
He grabs her wrists, stopping her hitting, “Because I needed to see you. You’ve been blowing me off all week.”
She rolls her eyes, “Because I didn’t want to blow you off all week.”
He gapes at her, loosening his grip on her. She moves away from him, picking up the knife and putting it back in the drawer.
“Y/n, I don’t understand. Everything was fine until that day in my room when you started talking about not being loved.” He says, a hand over his face in despair.
She shakes her head, “It’s always been not fine, Oscar. You just never noticed.”
He meets her eyes and he snaps, “What do you mean?!”
She turns around, another sign of her rejection of him, “I’m not prepared to have this conversation with you.”
“Not prepared or just scared?” He counters, hands on his hips as he stares at her back.
She doesn’t respond, giving him the moment to explain why he’s even here in the first place.
“Well, I’ll let you know that I’ve always been scared. Scared of the way you make me feel, of what it means to be around you and love you as much as I do.” He breathes for a few seconds, letting the previous tension dissipate as she turns around to look him in the eye, “I love you, Y/n. Sleeping with you, being friends with benefits, was always just going to be a way for me to get a taste of you that way until you decided to end things. And, now, it feels like you’re trying to end things and all it’s done is make me realize just how gone I am for you. I kept telling myself that once you decided to be done with our casualness, I would be able to turn it off, but that time has seemingly come and I can’t do it. I love you too much.”
They stare at each other for a minute before Y/n smiles softly, “You love me too much?”
He nods, taking a step toward her, “Not platonically. Very much romantically. I think I always have.”
She meets him in the middle and his arms find her waist, hers around his neck, “Oscar Jack Piastri.”
He smiles down at her, “Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n.”
Her fingers tangle at the bottom of his hair, forcing his head down to meet her lips. They move together softly, the first kiss that’s openly filled with love. When they pull back, Y/n whispers against his lips, “I love you so much.”
His eyes closed, relishing in the moment, he whispers back, “It’s never been hard loving you.”
“I wasn’t blowing you off this week because I didn’t want to blow you off.” She giggles, he does with her, “I just thought I would never have you the way I truly wanted and I couldn’t deal with it.”
He moves his head away from her slightly, catching her eyes quickly. They dilate as they look at her and Y/n is finally able to know it’s with love.
Oscar cradles her face, “You’ve always had me the way you wanted. You just never saw it. But, now you do, and you’ll never not have me the way you want. I’ll always be yours.”
And she would always be his.
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killakalx · 5 months
Note
mind blown by the jealousy fic! i just love ur characterization of dick.
also now you've got me thinking abt him and sloppy seconds. like imagine you've gone to someone else and let them fuck you, but they just couldn't get you off, and you're just so frustrated. then you show up at his door in wrinkled clothes, still dripping wet, hair messed up and lips bitten red and his brain just whites out. maybe he's still not jealous, not exactly, but he is so pleased with himself. cause now it's not just "she knows where home is" but "she knows nobody else will ever do it better, no matter how hard they try." then he's teasing about how wet you are, how bad you wanna come, how easy you are for him, and he gets you off with just his fingers first just to prove he can. he has you damn near begging before he even fucks you for real, and even then he does it torturously slow, taking his time and making you whine for it while he touches you all over. before he lets you come he asks "who did it better, me or him?"
ur posts put some sort of devil in me istg <3 🫐
“i just love ur characterization of dick” ☹️❤️ im kissing u rn berry. this got longer than it was supposed to but that’s ok bc i’m in love with our best friend dick grayson
i think right here is where dick starts feeling bad. not in a sappy way, but not in a condescending way either. he opens the door and he just ogles at how sorry you look, contemplating how he’d go about it, but he just gives you that charming smile and waits for your green light.
say you’re more embarrassed than anything else. tried to go home and get yourself off, making yourself look worse in all the most miserable ways. all you give him is that look. the lowkey “if you tell anyone about this i’ll kill you” look. in that case he’s teasing you the entire time, shit talking whoever it was that left you dry while carelessly dipping his fingers into your mouth and getting you soaked with just his hand. that’s when he’s more than willing to keep you embarrassed and begging for him.
“stop being a dick,” you’d scold him with the same joke he’s heard a million times, trying to hold his wrist in place and keep him inside of you. then he just stops moving his fingers and the way you ache around them has his ego practically leaking out of his cock.
“did you fake it or what?” he talks over you when you start insulting him out of impatience. he likes continuing conversation as if it’s one of those old talks you two would have. yk…. without him being knuckles deep inside you.
just in case you didn’t hear him right, you’re giving him that confused look and still rolling your hips for some sort of relief “hn… what?”
“you had to act like you came,” dick explains despite being sure you knew what he meant, “or did he just assume you did after he gave you a sorry excuse of a fuck?”
“mind your business.”
“i’ve got you leaking around my fingers like a desperate slut and this isn’t my business?” he laughs at the gall you have but he is very serious bae. just before the banter continues he reaches deeper inside you, curling up and making you lose your words. “you’d tell me if you wanna cum so bad, babe.” now he’s got you spilling all the deets and his pace speeds up after every sentence, telling you to take your time and spit it out, huh?
however!! imagine you show up so frustrated there are tears in your eyes. you’re sick of everything. stress and stress and more stressed, piled on top of sexual frustration??? dick’s making you cum until the light in your brain goes out. he’s there for you, always. whether it’s pulling you in for a long hug or sitting you in his lap with your clothes stripped. most of the time it’s both.
“i know, i know,” he’s consoling you while kissing sucking at your pretty tits, thumb massaging your clit as your head rests on his shoulder. “let me fix this, mkay? stop cryin’.” on nights like these??? the way he fucks you makes you forget he’s not your husband of five years and counting. and after a while neither of you are too sure how to feel about that.
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cinnamon-girl-writes · 2 months
Note
request for death note oneshot i love ur eren one its fire i found u on ao3 i think and didnt think id find you again here
l x fem reader (having a deep conversation abt quantum physics n such) plspls
hi there 🤍🤍 ahh i see so many people say they found me on ao3! i'm curious what fandom/fic you found me from
anyways, sorry this was in my drafts for so long, i have *so* much going on in my personal life right now and also lots of work/trips piling up. but i was soooo excited by this idea! i've never written death note x reader but it's an area i'd like to explore so i'll take all the requests i can get!!
how you get the girl - l lawliet x reader
by @cinnamon-girl-writes! . . .
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“so, in conclusion, while newton’s laws tell us that matter exists in a particle state. however, quantum mechanics argues that matter exists as waves tightly woven together to  make something physical.”
you shake your head, giving up on trying to understand. your boyfriend was sitting betwen your legs on the floor, with you sitting on the edge of the bed. he currently had half of his head in pigtails and the other half in a braid— the consequence of letting you do whatever you wanted to him.
“i don’t get it,” you admitted. “how can something be two things at once?”
he titled his head back, gazing at the half of your face he could see form this angle. “well, look at the two of us. we’re talking to eachother, but also breathing, and thinking, and our bodies are circulating blood and other important things.”
you laughed softly at his coyness. “i don’t think that’s how it works.” you leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
he smiled slightly as you did, allowing his eyes to flutter closed.
of course, your shared moment of peace couldn’t last for long. as you moved in to place another kiss to his face, ryuzaki’s phone rang.
he sat up, retrieving his phone form his pocket and standing to face you.
“i’m sorry, i have to take this,” he said to you. understanding, you gave him a look of encouragement as he left the room to answer the call.
in lieu of his presence, you decided to turn on the television in the room. it wasn’t as cozy as your apartment back home, but it sure was better than a cheap motel. ryuzaki had rented out an entire hotel building indefinitely until the kira case was closed, including the hotel staff, meaning you got breakfast and coffee delivered to your room every morning and room service at any hour. it made you wonder just how much money he has.
after channel surfing for what felt like hours (thirty minutes) you finally decide on a daytime tv channel playing a telenovela. you watched it for a few minutes when ryuzaki finally returned to the room.
“how’s your show?” he asked, taking a seat next to you on the couch where you were lounging.
“rebecca is cheating on her boyfriend steven, but she just found out she’s pregnant with joshua’s baby,” you explained.
ryuzaki pondered. “so, joshua is the man she’s having an affair with?”
you shook your head, pointing out the characters on the screen to your boyfriend. “no, joshua is her ex who she had a one-night stand with a few months ago. before she started seeing mark—“ you point to the man on the right of the screen, “—who, unbeknownst to her, is engaged to angela, rebecca’s old ski instructor. and she’s pregnant, but they don’t know if the baby is going to live, because she just got diagnosed with stage four lung cancer.”
ryuzaki sighed, pulling you in with an arm around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “maybe these people would have less problems if they led less . . . promiscuous lives.”
you laughed, looking up at him, “yeah, maybe you’re right.”
the rest of the afternoon passed unceremoniously, ryuzaki accepting a few more phone calls and having to leave for a few meetings. later that evening, you were having dinner together (albeit later than anticipated as his meeting had dragged on for far too long). 
“ryuzaki?” you called his name. the two of you were currently situated on the living room floor in front of the tv and a circular ottoman where your takeout was positioned.
he twirled the flavorful noodles on his chopsticks, not looking up to answer you. “yes?”
you exhaled. “i still don’t get what you were talking about earlier.”
“what is it you’ve yet to understand, my love?”
if there was one thing you loved about ryuzaki, it was the fact that he would explain anything to you without making you feel inferior or stupid. it may seem silly, but you felt like you could ask him anything.
“well . . . “ he stalled for a moment, setting down his food. “you and i are made of particles, correct?”
you nodded, unconvinced, “but i thought we were made of waves.”
ryuzaki turned to face you. “every particle in our bodies is tightly woven together, in a way to form waves.” he moved closer in your direction, invading your space and taking up every inch of your thoughts. he raised his palm to face you, and gestured for you to do the same.  “and when those waves touch—“ he moved his hand forward, and ever so carefully, intertwined his fingers with yours, “— they become connected, and create friction, and heat.”
you giggled when you pulled your intertwined fingers together to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. “you’re such a nerd.”
he smiled. “but you love it?”
you smiled back. “yeah, i do.”
✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚
i had to research quantum mechanics for this THE THINGS I DO FOR YALL!!!!! jkjk :) but i still dont get this shit lmao
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redstarwriting · 1 year
Text
happy birthday
miles morales x reader
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request?: yes
request: “I LOVEDDD THE HC’S OMG OMG WORK OF ART!!! i was wondering if you would write something expanding on getting miles’ doodles tatted as an adult!! i would love to read more abt it, it’s so cutee”
requested by: anon​
word count: 2.2k
genre: fluff
Warnings: language, tattoos, mentions of tattoos and needles, Miles is so sweet it's sick
A/N: GLADLY!! i've been itching to get a new tattoo since the minute i got my first like three years ago and writing this just made me want to get another one so bad LMAO. i hope you enjoy!
also in case you were wondering what hcs anon is talking about, it's my pda/general affection hcs i wrote for hobie and miles! you can check it out here if you haven't already and feel compelled to :)
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“Miles! Baby, can you give me a tattoo?” you ask, and he smiles. This has become a common practice in your relationship. From the time y’all were kids in love to now, you would always ask him for a tattoo. Of course, he didn’t actually give you tattoos, he just drew on your arm. He’s mentioned you, and even urged you, to get a tattoo every now and again. Especially when he offered to design them, but you always say his temporary ones are more special than any other tattoo you could get. He isn’t upset about it. He genuinely loves drawing on you. “Of course, babe. Come here,” he says, motioning you over to him as he grabs his markers he has specifically for your “tattoos.” You go over to him, sitting between his legs and extending your arm. “Can you draw it right next to the uh… elbow pit?” you say, and he laughs. “Elbow pit?”
“Yeah, like the inside of my arm and not on the bicep part or the elbow pit part, but the forearm part by the elbow pit,” you explain, pointing to the area you’re talking about. He chuckles. “Elbow pit.”
“Well, what else would it be called?” you ask, smiling, and he grins, starting to doodle on your arm. “I’ll text and ask my mom what the scientific name for it is after I’m done here,” he says, and you lean your head back against his shoulder. “Oh, god, please don’t tell her I called it an elbow pit.”
“Oh, I’m totally telling her you called it that,” he teases, placing a quick peck on your lips before returning his attention to your arm. He draws a spiderweb, of course, but in the shape of a heart. He adds his Miles touch to it by making it look like the web was spraypainted, and having it pop with black and red. You don’t even look at the tattoo as he draws it, you just stare at his face. You love watching him when he does his art. You assume it’s similar to the way his face looks when he’s swinging around the city as Spider-Man. He’s in his element, laser-focused and yet has an ease about him that mesmerizes you. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he says, smirking and turning his attention to you. You feel your face heat up but roll your eyes. “Can’t, arm’s a bit preoccupied.”
“You can get creative; I have an idea. Maybe use the one I’m not drawing on?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, and he shakes his head. “What do you think, amor?” he asks, and you look. You smile. “I love it, Miles. Thank you,” you say, kissing him on the cheek. He grins, wrapping his arms around your waist as you admire his art. “What time is it?” you ask, and he glances at his phone. “11:15. Why?” 
“Ganke and I are gonna go get some lunch today.”
“Should I be worried?” Miles jokes. “No, dummy. We’re just talking about… something happening soon,” you say, and a sly smile spreads across Miles’ face. “How soon?”
“I’ve said too much,” you say, trying to get up. Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend is Spider-Man and can easily hold you in place. “Nuh uh, how soon is this something happening?” he looks at you with a shit-eating grin, and you roll your eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know, spider boy?”
“I would. Is it, and this is just a wild guess… something happening tomorrow? A special something happening on a very special day?” he guesses, and you sigh. “Don’t tell Ganke you found out…”
“I knew it!”
“We’re supposed to be planning your birthday party, yes. For tomorrow. On your birthday. Are you happy you spoiled it for yourself now?” you feign annoyance, and he laughs. “I am, actually. Now I know to look good for you tomorrow.” You roll your eyes. “You always look nice, Miles.”
“Only for you,” he grins at you, turning your face to look at him. The two of you share a kiss before it’s interrupted by his police scanner going off. He frowns slightly. “It’s okay, Miles. I gotta go soon anyways,” you give him a quick peck for squeezing out of his arms. He sighs. “Fine, fine. Guess I’ll go save the city. Be the best thing that ever happened to New York and all that.”
“My hero,” you joke, and he grins. “You know it,” he says, slipping his mask on and sliding his everyday clothes off. “I’ll see you later, Miles. Stay safe. Love you.”
“You stay safe, too. Love you more.” He leaps out of the window, and you make sure he’s gone before you call Ganke. “Yo, what’s up?”
“You gotta plan Miles’ birthday party tomorrow.”
“Woah, what?” You sigh. “I already have the roof of our building booked out for it, I ordered the cake already and will pick it up tomorrow and have all the decorations. You just need to invite everyone, okay?”
“You mean I have to reach out to people in different dimensions, tell them to clear their schedules for tomorrow, and hope for the best?” Ganke asks, and you hum into the phone. “Yep! Thanks, Ganke! Also, if Miles asks, we went and got lunch, okay?”
“And where are you really going?”
“I’m getting a tattoo to surprise him for his birthday tomorrow,” you say, grabbing your keys and putting some money in your pocket. You put Ganke on speaker, sending a quick text to Hobie. “You need to stop using me as a cover-up, (Y/n).”
“Who else am I supposed to use? Gwen?” you say, and Ganke sighs. “I mean, yeah, you know she would be down to help you with something like this.”
“Ganke she is so bad at keeping secrets like that, and you know it,” you say, admiring the art on your arm again. “Then use Hobie.”
“Wait that’s actually a good idea,” you say, “Especially since he’s the one giving me the tattoo.”
“AND YOU STILL USED ME?!”
“I PANICKED! He was asking questions! Just, listen, invite as many people as you can think of, alright? Please, and thank you.”
“Fine. Go get inked or whatever they say,” Ganke says. The two of you give some quick goodbyes before hanging up. You receive a reply from Hobie, and a portal opens in Miles and your bedroom. You step through it and find yourself in Hobie’s flat. “Can I just say it’s about damn time you got one of ‘is works tattooed onto ya,” Hobie says, motioning to his couch. You sit and he gets his whole get-up ready, all the cleaning wipes and gloves and the tattoo gun all ready to go. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m getting it now and that’s what matters,” you say, and he clicks his tongue. “I can guarantee ya this is just gonna be the beginning. Kinda becomes an addiction,” he says, sitting next to you, and fiddling with his gun. “Then I guess I’ll just need to have Miles draw on me even more.” He chuckles. “Lemme see it.”
You show him the drawing, and Hobie shakes his head. “Your man is corny,” he says, and you shrug. “I like it.”
“I know,” he dips his gun in ink, and looks at you, “Ya ready?” You nod, and he begins tattooing Miles’ art onto your skin. The two of you talk the whole time, really, and you let him know about the party tomorrow. He, of course, agrees to come, and can’t wait to see Miles’ reaction. It takes a few hours, but eventually he finishes up and it looks exactly like Miles just drew it on your skin. Hobie places fake skin over it and gives you the rundown of how to take care of it. He turns away from you to put something away, and you quickly slip $100 under a pillow on the couch. You know he won’t accept any money from you because he’s ‘not a capitalist pig,’ so you have to be sneaky with it. “Thank you so much, Hobie,” you say, and he winks at you. “Anythin’ for my mate’s better ‘alf.”
He opens the portal again, and you two say bye until tomorrow. You’re back home, literally, in no time, and you quickly throw one of the hoodies Miles left lying around on. This way he won’t see the tattoo, and you can play it off like you missed him. Especially since you did kind of miss him and it is sort of a staple in your relationship that you wear his clothes when you do. That’ll make him melt and he’ll forget all about the art on your arm. And you were absolutely right. 
It ended up being a late night for Spider-Man, and when he got home, he saw you curled up on the couch, sleeping with his hoodie on, and all he could think about was that you missed him. He carefully picked you up and carried you to your shared bed. You started to wake up as soon as he was getting in bed after taking a shower and cleaning up, and he began desperately trying to get you to go back to sleep. “What time is it?” you groggily ask. “It’s like 3am, (Y/n/n), I’m here now, we can go to sleep, okay?” he says, slipping into bed next to you and pulling you on top of his chest. “Happy birthday!” you sleepily say, burying your face into his chest. He smiles. “Thank you, amor. Let’s get back to sleep now, yeah?” You make a muffled mmhmm sound and are out like a light almost immediately. Miles smiles to himself, wondering how he got this lucky.
You can imagine his disappointment when he wakes up the next day and you’re not snug against his chest, but he feels better the minute he sees a little note on his chest that explains you’ll be home, you just had to go do something for him. He gets up and decided he can do his Spider-Man duties until you text him and let him know he needs to come home. It may be his birthday, but the city still needs it’s defender. So that’s exactly what he does. He cannot explain how grateful he is that none of the big bads were trying to start anything today, because if he didn’t get to see you and eat a slice of cake, he was going to scream. The day went slower than he wanted but also sped by when eventually he got a text from you saying to come home. He immediately obliges, swinging in through the window and putting on some of his nicest clothes. He walks out of your room and sees you chilling on the couch. “Miss me?” he asks, walking over and bending down to kiss your lips. You giggle. “Obviously. Hey, before we go up to the roof where there totally isn’t a party waiting for you, I wanna show you something, okay?”
“Okay,” he grins, and you grin back. “Cover your eyes.” He does as instructed, and hears you shift slightly. “Okay… open them.” He opens his eyes, and immediately sees his “tattoo” on your arm. Only it was covered in a clear wrap. And it’s real. His eyes get big, and he looks at your face. You give a small smile. “You always encouraged me to get a real tattoo, so… happy birthday.”
“Yo! It looks so good, hold up,” he gently grabs your arm and softly traces it through the saniderm. “When did you get this?”
“Yesterday.”
“You weren’t actually with Ganke, were you?”
“No, I was with Hobie,” you say, and he shakes his head. “I got a little liar on my hands, huh?”
“It wasn’t lying it was covering my ass because you ask too many damn questions,” you say, and he laughs. “I love it, (Y/n/n).” You smile and the two of you share a kiss. “We should probably get up there. Some people are waiting. Oh, and pretend like you haven’t seen it yet. Hobie wants to see your reaction.” Miles laughs. “Alright. Well, I hope he knows I’m not gonna stop drawing on you. And that he fully traced my art,” Miles says, and you shake your head. “I’m sure he knows, Miles. You really like it?”
“Like it? Baby, I told you I love it. I love you; I love this tattoo; I love that this is a birthday present from you… everything about this? I love it. I don’t even need to go up there to make the day better because all I need is you,” he says, and you smile. “Hobie was right. You’re so corny.”
“Nah, hold on, he said that? Forget everything I just said it’ll be a perfect day when I punch him.” You laugh as the two of you make your way up to the party. But the whole time, Miles keeps finding his eyes drifting to your tattoo. Something about having his art on you permanently makes his heart swell with pride and happiness. And he and Hobie were both right.
It’s not the only “tattoo” that will become real.
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1K notes · View notes
girlboypersonthingy · 7 months
Note
hiiiii!!!! so i’m thinking of a velvette fic where u meet the vees after having dated her for a bit (a few weeks maybe). you hate them. you think they’re creepy and just assholes, even for being in hell. (you’re a bit more wholesome but yk still a sinner) like you just do NOT like the guys. you’re super worried abt velvette’s reaction to that fact so u try to sugar coat it but she’s just like “thank lucifer! i didn’t want them to be creepy bad influences on u!” and u’re both super relieved. i love her.
Heeyyyy I was wondering when you’d send in a Velvette request ☺️ you got it friend! Enjoyyyy~
TW: Val being a perv 😎 for like one second tho, Velvette gets a bit suggestive,?? Lots of cussing lol
The Only V For Me 💜
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“AAHHH!!! Darling, you’re finally here! How was the drive? How was the driver?” Velvette watches as you walk through the doorway of her studio, looking around with big doe eyes at all the bright lights and flashy outfits and really beautiful model demons.
“Velvette!” Before you can say anything more, she’s pulling you into a a deadly tight hug. “It was actually…like way too much, babe. You don’t have to do all that fancy shit for me, ya know? But…yes, it was really nice. Thank you.” Velvette offers you a cheeky smirk followed by a quick kiss to the cheek.
Your darling girlfriend snaps her fingers and yells out a command to one of her assistants. “You! Come here.” She makes a ‘come here’ motion with her finger as she turns her attention back to you, her lips upturned into a smile again, “Are you thirsty? Hungry? Anything you need, you tell her.” She points to her assistant who is now right at your side. “Anything my darling asks for, you get it.” She gives the worker an intimidating glare before winking at you.
“Let me show you around!” Velvette puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you along, pointing things out, explaining them. She is absolutely beaming with pride right now, glancing at you often to see your reaction. As you pass a mannequin clad in a really nice outfit, a gasp comes from Velvette. “Oh my! You know who would look absolutely stunning in this little number?” And now she’s flashing you this flirty grin and her bright red eyes are looking you up and down. Suddenly her smooth demeanor dropped as she grumbled under her breath a bit then sighed deeply.
“Oh, who am I kidding. With Vox and Val both here today, if I dress you in anything more appealing than what you’ve got on now, they will definitely try to steal you from me. You already look too cute…” This pulls a laugh from you but your laugh stops suddenly, stuck in your throat when you see how serious her expression is at the moment.
“Wait. What? What do you mean-“ And suddenly the doors swing open, slamming into the walls behind them as an extremely tall, blue-skinned individual with big red heart shaped glass quickly approaches Velvette, towering over both of you.
“WHERE THE HELL IS VOX?! I’ve been looking for that flat faced fuck all day.” He growls out and you take note of the fact that Velvette doesn’t flinch a bit. “Why the hell are you asking me? If he was here, you’d have found him already.” She snaps back and as the angry man before you was about to screech out another sentence, his expression softened rather quickly as his eyes fell on you.
“Why hello~ who do you have here? Wow! What a gorgeous creature you are. I’m Valentino. What’s your name, sweetheart?” One of his hands slips into yours and as he goes to lift your hand to his lips, Velvette pushes him so hard he nearly falls over.
“Their name is (Y/N), alright? And they are MINE. Now back off, Val.” She hisses in response, now tightly holding your hand, the hand that Val was holding just a second ago. “WHOO! Alright. My apologies, dear. Didn’t know this one was all yours. But I mean FUCK! They just have such nice lips! I mean, look at that mouth. You have the perfect pair of dick sucking li-“
Velvette shouts over him, “SHUT IT!!! You’re actually so vile. Get out of here, Valentino! You’re freaking out my babe.” She gives him another shove, making him frown angrily at her before he stomps off, probably punching a wall or kicking something over as he leaves. Oh, he definitely slams the door again too.
“Alrighty! Where were we?” Velvette seems to relax a bit more, going back to a more chipper and excited attitude as she again shows off all of her impressive work to you. She even got a few models to come do a little show just for you, all of them casually posing and showing off different outfits. Velvette kept asking your opinion, begging you to be ‘bloody honest’ with her.
“Oh, darling! You just have to come over one night and let me dress you up, just us two! Hmm~ I could dress you up and then maybe even…undress you again.” Just as your girlfriend started to flirt with you and as you started to feel more comfortable in this environment-
“Velvette! Happy Friday. Have you seen Val? I haven’t been able to reach him all day. I’m-“ The strong, electric voice that sounded from behind you two made you jump a bit and brought a frightening grimace to Velvette’s face.
“Oh~ Hello. (Y/N), right? Pleased to meet you! I was wondering when our precious like Velvette was gonna bring her play thing over. I’m Vox, creator of Voxtech. You know, on the late night talk show…and the morning talk show. I’m also the news anchor.” He doesn’t really offer you his hand, he more so just reached out and grasps your hand in his, giving it a rapid shaking.
His grip on your hand hurts a bit and the smug smirk on his face makes you somewhat intimidated by him. Vox just…gives you the creeps even more than Valentino did and he basically verbally assaulted you. Before you can even come up with a response to him-
“Yes, yes, yes. Everyone knoWS WHO YOU ARE, YOU PRICK. NOW WHAT DO YOU WANT?!” And now Velvette looks kind of scary, like so pissed off and annoyed that she looks like she could actually kill someone right now. The someone preferably being Vox. Her bright red eyes glow with rage and irritation, her pretty lips now turned into a deep scowl.
As she yells in his face, his expression drops to one of annoyance and exhaustion. “Where’s Val?” Velvette groans before responding. “You’ve got to be fuckin kidding me! He just left, looking for you. Look on your stupid little cameras and find him and go tell him to STOP SLAMMING MY DOORS OR IM GONNA-“
Not that Velvette scared you but…she looked pretty upset right now and her yelling is enough to put anyone into a slight panic. So you slip you hand around her bicep, gently pulling her tense arm back a bit so you could comfortably slide your hand down to hers, interlocking your fingers. Her words stopped in their tracks, your tender touch almost making her flinch. Her head whipped around and she looked at you for a good few seconds, a smile slowly growing on her lips. She turns back to the screen-faced man, her smile not faltering this time.
“Off you go.” Velvette quite literally shoos him away with a wave of her hand as her other hand snakes its way around your waist and back until her arm is fully wrapped around you and you’re pressed into her side. She turns her back on Vox, determined to keep her full attention on you for the rest of the day. You’re too distracted by her embrace to notice if Vox had even left or not.
You clear your throat. “Babe…?” “Yes, love?” “Don’t get mad.” You look at her with a serious expression, causing her to blink in confusion. “Mad at you? Never. What’s on your mind?” Velvette pulled away from you for just a second then she faced you and held both your hands in her own.
“I feel…extremely uncomfortable here. Specifically, with Valentino and Vox. I-I…I’m sorry I just…I don’t like them…very much…they scare me.” Velvette chuckles before you can finish your sentence and you’re not sure if you should be relieved or even more worried. Suddenly, she pulls you into a tight hug, her hands rubbing big circles all over your back.
“Ugh, I’m so terribly sorry, darling. Truly, I figured those two would be busy on a Saturday, too busy to be bothering us already.” She turns her head to kiss your cheek then pulls you in even closer. “Fuck! I’m actually so relieved you said that. Those two are so terrible…truly, irresponsible! I mean it when I say I’m the backbone of the Vs okay? Those two pussies would fall apart in a matter of hours without me! Ugh they can’t even keep it together for one day!” “Babe…” You try to calm her again, seeing how worked up she gets having to constantly deal with her work partners.
With her attention solely on you, she softly says, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. What do you want to do next, hm? We can go somewhere. Anywhere. Just say the words.” Her long fingers gently graze the skin of your cheek, causing you to become a bit flustered. It’s almost baffling how she can be so cold and cruel to everyone around her except you. You were her only weakness, and she doesn’t mind one bit. She loves you endlessly. She wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything in Hell.
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argisthebulwark · 4 months
Text
Do I Have Your Attention?
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summary: calling your partner by their real name instead of a pet name. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used feat: Vilkas, Farkas, Brynjolf, Miraak, Erandur, Cicero, Teldryn warnings: joke abt murder in Miraak's lol. masterlist
Vilkas knows you're trying to get under his skin and hates how effective it is. Despite all his grumbling he's grown to enjoy the sweet little names only you're allowed to call him. There's nothing wrong with his name, of course - but it doesn't summon that fuzzy feeling all your terms of endearment do. "Vilkas?" You call again, clearly trying to get his attention. He grits his teeth and pointedly ignores you. Tidying his desk has suddenly become very interesting. "Sweetheart?" "Hm?" He finally grunts, feigning nonchalance despite the color in his cheeks. "Oh, now you can hear me." He ignores how smug you sound, continuing to shuffle through paperwork. "How interesting."
Farkas doesn't like that. "What? No baby? No honey? Did I do something wrong?" He drops the rag, half polished armor entirely forgotten as he turns toward you. "No, I'm not upset with you." You clarify, quelling his nerves. "Why so formal?" Farkas adores the sweet things you say to him - calling him your honey, your dearest, any reminder that he is yours. "Sorry, my love." You crack a smile when he reaches for you, grabbing your hand. "Didn't mean to worry you." "I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me." He sighs, doing a terrible job at hiding how much he enjoys all of your attention.
Brynjolf knows you're trying to bother him. He's seen that mischievous look in your eye before and weighs his options - what will be more fun? He could play into your little game and pretend to be upset by the lack of affection, or he could turn it around. The way he says your name is aloof, almost cold. He watches your eye twitch and your grin falter. It's terribly hard to stifle a laugh when you clear your throat and struggle to continue the conversation. Oh, he knows he's gotten under your skin. Brynjolf listens to your request for proper recruit assignments and agrees, biding his time before taking it one step further. When your annoyance begins to wane he begins calling you by your last name, thrilled at the color your face turns. "Bryn, what are you doing?" "Not so funny now, is it? Guild Master?"
Miraak swears that he will kill you both if you don't knock it off. He threatens to burn your entire village to the ground if you don't cease whatever prank you've decided to play on him. In front of others, he will stomach your cold detachment - calling him by his name or title in front of those damned Greybeards. He knows a thing or two about manners, after all. But in the privacy of your bedroom, he is your love. He is the one who relishes in all those silly terms of endearment only you are permitted to use. He stews over your laughter, refusing to give in even when your lips press to his skin. "You are not funny." He grumbles, though he does lean closer for more of your touch. "Perhaps this is what was prophesized - you will be the death of me after all."
Erandur worries that he's done something wrong. He thinks over your day, struggling to pinpoint what social blunder he could have made. He knows that he isn't completely up to date on modern social courtesies but you do not physically appear upset. "I'm sorry, my beloved." He offers, praying that you will educate him. "For what?" "For whatever I've done to upset you. Please tell me so that it can be made right." When you explain that it's a prank, a joke intended to gauge his reaction, Erandur smiles sheepishly and tucks away that information for later. He kisses your forehead, grateful that you are not upset with him.
Cicero is not a fan of that. His brows furrow, trying to figure you out. You only use his name when you call him your silly Cicero, your pretty Cicero... never just his name. His head tilts when he notes the pink in your cheeks and the attentive way you're watching him. "Listener." He ventures, eyes narrowing. "Are you pranking your Keeper?" "I am." "Oh!" Cicero's hands clap when he revels in your laugh. "Silly Listener, you are quite funny." "Not as funny as you, my love." He grins at the kiss you press to his cheek, absolutely giddy at your approval.
Teldryn is a bit taken aback - you've called him Tel for years. And now you're dropping his full name out of the blue? You've never been one for overly sweet terms of endearment but he likes the shortened version of his name you use. He removes his helmet and peers over, trying to figure you out. "What did I do to deserve this treatment?" "What treatment?" "The full government name." He's relieved when a laugh bursts out of you, pausing your trek to slap a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, Tel. You're too funny." He wants to chastise you, but the little pet name and the way you draw near to him is fairly distracting. "It was just a little prank." "A prank?" He snorts, indulging in a short kiss to your forehead. "You have too much time on your hands."
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gh0stsp1d3r · 11 months
Note
I need a part 3 to Unemployed, please 🙏
y’all realllyyy like unemployed (me too 😩 smth abt yandere william)
𝒰𝓃ℯ𝓂𝓅𝓁ℴ𝓎ℯ𝒹 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝓇ℯℯ
Warnings- yandere themes, mentions of yelling, bruises
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With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair. He looked down at the poster he gripped in his hands.
Missing. You were considered missing.
He was just protecting you, doing what he thought was right for you. Whatever, people would forget in a few weeks or so.
“Y/n, bunny.” He mumbled to you, you were still fast asleep. He sighed again, he was on his knees in front of you, trying to get you to wake up, which did not work.
He laid his head on the bed, looking at you.
Was he too rough on you yesterday?
You’d tried to escape, ultimately failing. That caused him to get furious. He threw stuff around, vases, glasses, whatever he could as he yelled at you. You hid in the corner, sobbing into your knees.
He rubbed the bruises he had left on your wrist when he had grabbed it too hard. He needed to go get new locks now, new security measures.
A small part of him felt bad, but the bigger part of him was still angry.
He stood up, deciding to go get some clothes for you and himself.
You started to stir and he looked back.
“Look who’s finally awake.” He said, turning back to the closet. You opened your eyes, and sat up, slightly backing against the headboard.
“Get up. You’re coming to work with me.”
Oh thank god, maybe someone there would help you. You thought.
But when you entered the car and he started to drive, you realized this wasn’t the way to his job.
Where was he going? You didn’t dare ask him.
He stopped his car at an abandoned place, you furrowed your eyebrows when he opened the door. Where were you guys?
You got out and stood up. He grabbed you by the arm as he locked the door. His hand stayed on your arm until you got in, he locked the door to the pizzeria as well.
He led you through, and into a room.
“Stay here. I’ll be back- and I have cameras in every room as well.” He said, standing at the doorway and disappearing.
You looked around the room. Some small tvs were on, video footage. You furrowed your eyebrows at it, and sat down.
You looked around the room, looking for the cameras he was talking about. But you couldn’t, so you looked back at the tvs.
Some animatronics caught your eyes, a purple bunny, a bear and a.. chick? They were.. cute. In a way, creepy but cute.
You then turned your eyes to a moving figure, walking up to them. A yellow bunny, a very tall one at that.
Then the bunny turned to the camera, as if it was looking at you. It looked away again, and back to the curtains.
The bunny was saying something you couldn’t understand, because when he said something, all the others started to move.
You furrowed your eyebrows, confused. That’s when you realized the yellow bunny was William.
They seemed to be having a conversation without talking, it seemed that William was their sort of leader.
It was odd, they were animatronics? How the hell did they move? Hopefully he’d explain it to you more later. You stared at the tvs, interested and intrigued.
The yellow bunny stepped away again, out of sight. You turned around for a moment, thinking you heard something. You ignored it, turning back to the screens, but when you looked back, the animatronics suddenly were gone.
Weird.
Your palms started sweating, you were suddenly nervous. Someone grabbed your shoulder, making you yelp and jump before you turned around.
Just William.
He raised an eyebrow at you. “You okay?”
“Yeah. You.. scared me.” You said, looking down at the ground. He laughed quietly.
“You wanna meet them?”
You looked back up at him now.
“You mean the…?”
“Yeah. C’mon.” He said, holding his hand out for you to hold.
Hesitating, you took it and stood up, quickly shoving his hand off when you did stand up. He was taken aback, but let it go anyways.
He walked towards the curtains again, pressing a button and suddenly, they pulled back and the animatronics were revealed.
You watched them with wide eyes. He sat down and you sat down across from him, as you both watched them.
They better put on the best damn show they’ve ever done in their pathetic little lives, William thought.
Once it was done, he looked at you. The animatronics stared at you as well, as if they were waiting. “What’d you think?” He asked you.
“It was amazing.” You said, looking at them again.
He smiled. “I’m glad.”
You looked at him again. “I don’t get it… are you like.. I don’t know, their leader or something?”
“I made them.”
You looked at him shocked.
“Oh.”
He laughed at your expression. “Don’t worry about them right now. You’ll know soon.” Was all he left it at, and the curtains closed.
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We need more tom riddle and male reader. Like yall know tom is a charmer and the prince of Slytherin sort of stuff but then he found out abt this guy who is also prince-like from Hufflepuff (can be another house or wtv) and Tom's like "Hm, i wonder what's this guy's hiding, imma find out" so Tom did tryna find his secrets but when Tom use Legilimency, all he can found out are the reader thinking abt silly stuffs like "what kind of food i should try today" or "that guy's socks cool" or "shit, this flower's yellow, imma made it into a bookmark >:]" or "Imma dye my hair white using this spell i found from an old book from the restricted section, i wonder if this'll kill me– whatever" idk basically reader is a dumb typa guy who just... doing what he likes 😭 m sorry if this confusing lmao i tried my best to explain
Scatterbrained - T. R. x male!Reader
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A/N: Hi, anon! Thank you so much for the request! I went with a more airheaded sort of approach so I hope that’s okay. I incorporated as much of your request as I could, and I hope you like it!
This is completely unedited, so please be nice! 💛 No use of Y/N. Sentences in italics are the reader’s thoughts. GIF is not mine; it was found on Pinterest, link here
Part 2 here
CW: Tom being a bit of a stalker; suspicion; nonconsensual thought reading; reader is just a bit of a scatterbrain; flirting; fluff; Tom being slightly emotionally aware; Tom is a little mean towards reader; kissing; Tom’s nefarious plots
1384 words
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Tom Riddle was the Prince of Slytherin. Everyone knew it. Everyone respected it.
Even the Gryffindors, for all their talk of bravery, cowered when it came to confronting Tom.
He was the top of every class, the teachers’ favorite, the star Head Boy that everyone admired. All the girls wanted him. All the boys wanted to be him.
And then…
There was you.
Tom first met you in Herbology class in fourth year. You were almost unnoticeable at first. Just a languid, easygoing Hufflepuff boy with a warm smile and a friendly manner.
But more importantly, you were utterly unafraid of him. You’d even helped him care for his baby mandrake.
Tom was immediately intrigued. So he started following you around. Secretly, of course. But the more he follows you around, the more he starts to suspect.
You’re… too nice. The kind of guy to offer help and genuinely mean it. The kind of guy to help you with your homework and give you homemade cookies as a confidence booster.
Perhaps in mockery of Tom, the Hufflepuffs start calling you their prince. Prince of Hufflepuff. The boy who should be Tom’s rival, except you’re just so nice.
You have to be hiding something. No one is that nice normally. You have to have some hidden agenda. Some dark secret behind your sweet demeanor and comforting smile. Tom is sure of it.
Once fifth year starts, he comes armed with a secret weapon. The true key to figuring out your intents.
Legilimency.
Tom holds off at first, waiting for the perfect opportunity. And then… it happens.
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You’re down by the Black Lake, picking flowers with your friends to make into bouquets for the prefects.
Tom watches as you laugh, as you playfully tease one of the girls. It makes his chest tighten and his jaw clench. Now is his moment, the perfect chance to truly find out what you’re thinking.
Tom silently casts the spell, causing you to wince and rub your forehead. He barely notices, too lost in the whirlwind of your thoughts.
Ow, my head…
Oh, I should grab those flowers. They’d be perfect for him…
She has cool socks…
I wonder if I can press that flower and make it into a bookmark…
Oooh, clovers! I wonder if there’s a four-leaved one…
Tom stops the spell, his head spinning.
You were so… scatterbrained.
Your head is full of fluff and nonsense. Tom can barely make sense of it all. He ends the spell, staggered by the revelation.
You have no ulterior motives. You’re so genuine because there’s no room in your head for anything otherwise.
Tom stares at you, lost. He doesn’t know what to do now. You’re not malicious or manipulative like him. You’re just… something else.
As you turn to grab a flower, you spot him. Instantly, your face brightens. A huge smile spreads across your face as you wave eagerly at him.
Tom slowly waves back.
You turn to say something to one of the girls. She nudges you, grinning. You rub the back of your head bashfully, and start heading up towards Tom.
He watches you, a bit surprised. You still have your bouquet of flowers, holding it out all nice and stuff.
On impulse, Tom casts Legilimency again. You immediately wince, but quickly shake off your pain.
Ouch, what is up with my head today?
No, focus! Be calm. Be cool. Be smooth…
Oh god, it’s him. He’s so perfect…
Compliment him somehow. Tell him he looks nice!
“Hi, Tom,” you smile warmly at him. “You look nice today.”
Tom’s cheeks warm against his will. “Thank you.”
Oh my god! Is he blushing? He’s blushing! He’s so cute…
Hurry, give him the flowers!
Merlin, he looks so cute…
Tom’s cheeks redden further. He awkwardly coughs into his fist, trying to quell the sudden thrill in his chest.
“Oh, um, here!” You hold out the bouquet of flowers. “I made this for you.”
Tom’s heart does an unfathomable flip-flop of excitement. He takes the bouquet gently, running his fingers over the colorful blossoms. Bluebells, white clover, twinflowers, and pink primrose. “For me?”
“Mhmm! I made it myself!”
Tom smiles, a small slight thing. But the way your thoughts explode at the sight of it makes it widen a bit more.
OH MY GOD!! He’s so cute!!
Look at his smile!!
God, I wanna kiss him so badly…
Mmm… kissing…
Tom panics a little, the mental images you’re coming up with overwhelming him. He stops the spell immediately, flustered and blushing.
“Thank you for the flowers,” he stutters out, tripping over his words in a way he wouldn’t have before.
You beam and nod. “Of course! I’m glad you like them.”
Then you walk back to your group, humming happily with the biggest smile on your face ever.
Tom gazes down at his bouquet and turns away, his heart thumping in his chest.
So you were a bit of an idiot, but somehow that didn’t bother Tom. He strolls back up to the castle, thinking deeply about you.
His reactions to you were… unexpected, but not particularly surprising. You were a handsome boy, after all.
Perhaps a different sort of investigation was required.
You seemed to like him quite a bit, and Tom isn’t opposed to the idea. But he’ll have to be quick going about asking you out.
Your kindness and genuineness haven’t been unnoticed by others, and Tom’s well aware that not everyone interested in you has the same intentions he does.
He’ll ask you out tonight, after dinner.
With that resolve in his mind, Tom enters the castle, a pep in his step.
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Tom finds you in the library after dinner. You’re huddled over an old tome, muttering something under your breath. You’re so caught up in reading that you startle when Tom clears his throat.
“Oh! Tom! I didn’t see you there!” You beam up at Tom.
He gives you a thin smile back. “What are you reading?”
“Just some book I found in the Restricted Section.” You say blithely. You point to the page you’re looking at. “I found a spell for hair dyeing and wanted to try it out!”
Tom looks at the page. “Unicorn hair and ashwinder eggs? Where are you going to get those?”
You shrug. “I dunno yet. I’ll find them somewhere.”
Tom stares at you. “You’ll find them somewhere? You don’t just find ashwinder eggs and unicorn hair.”
You frown a little but shrug, clearly undeterred. “I’ll work something out.”
Tom sits down next to you, trying to comprehend the stupidity of your words. “You have a death wish.”
You blink and tilt your head. “I just wanna dye my hair, is all.”
Tom rubs at his face, forcing himself to stay calm. There’s no point in getting annoyed when he hasn’t even accomplished his goal yet.
With a subtle flick of his wrist, he casts Legilimency on you, bracing himself for the onslaught of unbridled thoughts.
He seems upset.
Oh, no. I gotta do something…
Quick, say something!
“Tom?” You ask softly.
He sighs and gives you a weak smile. “I’ll help you dye your hair using a safer spell.”
You brighten immediately. “You will?!”
Yes! I’ll finally have white hair again!
“On one condition.”
Oh.
You nod. “Okay…”
“I’ll help you dye your hair if you go to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow.”
Go to…
You tilt your head. “Like, on a date?”
Tom swallows. “Yes. On a date.”
Your thoughts explode with giddiness. Tom jolts a bit, ending the spell as his head aches from the force of your happiness.
“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes! I’ll go on a date with you!”
Tom relaxes and gives you a small but genuine smile. “Let’s go dye your hair then.”
He gets up, but pauses. On impulse, he leans down and gives your cheek a slight kiss. You’re frozen in your seat for a moment, stars in your eyes. Then you scramble to your feet and follow after him.
There’s no doubt you’ll be his now. And then he, and only he, will be able to enjoy your sweet stupidity.
He finds himself inwardly grinning at the thought. A date at Hogsmeade is only the first step. Soon, he’ll make you his perfect, scatterbrained boyfriend.
And then he’ll be unstoppable.
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sebscore · 2 years
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Came from ur fem!driver HCs and now I have ideas:
- The origin story of George’s ‘Russy Bussy’ nickname🤣
- Y/N hazing Oscar, Nyck and Logan in Abu Dhabi because as Valterri says, ✨traditions✨
- Y/N and Pierre gossiping abt Piastrigate w/ Yuki, Zhou and Charles (cuz oh my lordy-ord THE DRAMAFEST that was the summer break and Seb’s retirement😭)
THE ORIGIN OF RUSSY BUSSY
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pairing: george russell x driver!reader / alex albon x driver!reader / lando norris x driver!reader
warnings: the word “bussy” 😭
author's note: i mean everything you need to know is in the title :) yes, this is a reference to that one eric name tweet from 2019! tysm to the anon for the requests!!
• • • • • • •
''Did you see what George tweeted earlier?'' Alex asked her while they waited for the rest of the grid to arrive at the driver's briefing.
Y/N shook her head. ''No, why?''
Alex simply chuckled and pulled out his phone, opening the Twitter app and typing in George's username. He laughed once again, before showing the tweet in question to her.
GeorgeRussell63: New race week! Let's get busssy everyone!
Y/N's jaw dropped, in shock that the Brit actually had posted that on his official and very public Twitter account. ''You know for a guy that likes to correct my grammar, he sure does make a lot of spelling mistakes.''
''I don't think he's realized yet what it means.'' The Williams driver told her, putting his phone back in his pocket.
''Hey, guys.'' Lando took the seat next to his female friend, sighing as he sat down. ''What are you two talking about?''
''George's bussy.''
The three bursted out laughing, gathering some confused looks from the other drivers in the room. Lando seemed to immediately understand what they were referring to.
''I thought I was the only one that noticed.'' He said, trying to calm himself down.
''I was gonna tweet something back at him, but I didn't want people to make fun of the fact that I know what it means.'' Alex explained.
Lando and Y/N nodded at his words, understanding that fans can remember these things for years to come. ''I wanna see his face the moment he finds out what it means.'' She said, rubbing her hands together like a villain would when creating their masterplan.
''Me too, it's gonna be hilarious, our Russell George.''
''Should we let him figure it out on his own or do we tell him?'' Alex asked, debating if they should explain the meaning to him.
Y/N shook her head. ''He should figure it out on his own, maybe with a bit of our help though.'' The mischief in her eyes didn't go unnoticed by Lando and Alex, the two already started to grin.
As if on queue, George and Lewis walked into the room, and briefly greeted everyone. George was about to sit down next to Sebastian, but he was quickly interrupted from doing that.
''Hey, Russy Bussy! Come sit with us!'' Y/N called him over, a teasing smirk present on her face.
The nickname caused some stifled laughter in the room, particularly from Pierre, Daniel, Lando and Alex. Meanwhile George awkwardly looked around as he made his way over to them.
''Hi, guys.'' He sat down next to Alex, a puzzled look on his face.
Lando briefly took a glimpse at Y/N before speaking. ''You guys are later than usual, you had a bussy morning?'' He asked, trying his best to not start cackling.
''Yeah, we had to film something with the team…'' George hesitantly answered, totally unaware what they were laughing about. ''Why are you saying busy like that?'' He asked the younger guy, putting his hand on his waist.
''Oh, isn't that how you say it?'' Alex said, feigning innocence. ''Yeah, or tweet it.'' Y/N added, having too much fun teasing the Mercedes driver.
''I can't follow, guys.'' George was visibly running out of patience with the teasing.
''Oh, crikey! He doesn't know what we are talking about.'' Y/N mimicked George's speech, continuing the mocking.
Alex was the one to cave in first. ''We're talking about your latest tweet, Russell.''
''What about it?'' He obviously still hadn't realized what had been so wrong with his spelling of the word 'busy'.
''You still don't know?'' Lando said wide-eyed, surprised George still hadn't been made aware of the entire thing.
''Know what?''
Lando and Alex turned to Y/N, pleading with their eyes that she explains it to him. She rolled her eyes, but succumbed.
''In your tweet it sounded like you said 'bussy' instead of 'busy', and let's say the two words have completely different meanings.'' She clarified.
George nodded, understanding the fault he made. ''Okay… then what does it mean?''
''With 'bussy' you're referring to a man's, uh, anus.''
They could see the gears turning in George's head, starting to comprehend why he received the reactions he did to what he assumed was a normal tweet. He had given the internet another reason to clown him for an entire season.
''Oh, good heavens!''
''But hey! Look at it from the bright side, your gay fans must be very happy right now!''
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