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yandere-sins · 10 months

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Imagine getting isekai’ed into otome game as a background character, watching the main character going down routes as you live your peaceful, mundane life, but you’ve unknowingly been going down a route as well, a route for a hidden character that you didn’t discover during your time playing the game.

That character being the reason the game has a dark content warning.

Gosh anon, that idea is so good!!!! I didn't know it would tickle all the right places in my brain, but when I started I couldn't stop lol. Love it, thank you for sending it in ♥

If this had one of these super long titles that are tmi it would be:

I got Isekai'ed into an Otome Game as a Background Character and now I Have to Finish It with the Secret Yandere Love Interest!!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

A serene smile spread over your lips as you watched the two lovebirds in the corner of your coffee shop.

Swirling the milk into a cup, it created a little white heart surrounded by foamy coffee, its aroma drifting into your nose. Had someone told you that the little things like a cup of coffee made with love and care were enough to give you the peace of mind you always wanted in your previous life, you would have laughed at them. For you, it had always been the hustle, the making money, finding a partner, and creating a family. Make everyone proud while being successful, whether it costs you nights of sleep or days without proper meals. But looking at yourself now, it all seemed so far away now, and you let out a content sigh before setting down the cup in front of the customer at the bar.

"You seem happy today," your regular at the counter noted, picking up the cup and taking a moment to appreciate the aroma just like you had. A smile sneaked onto their lips, too, after they took a sip, and you couldn't help but feel your heart swell with pride and happiness when they gave you a satisfied nod.

"I am! I'm really getting accustomed to my new life here, it's... been a while since I've been so content."

The truth behind everything that happened to you was something you couldn't speak about lightly. Not when it turned the life you knew upside down, leaving you to start over completely. One day you were an employee of a well-known company, responsible for sales and reports and everything stressful. And the next, you were in your favorite, cozy video game, running the coffee shop the main character liked to visit with all the romance options in the game.

Isekai was the genre that came to mind when you thought about your situation. Luckily you were spared the memories of your death in the real world, the circumstances blurry as you barely remembered going home late from work, only to wake up in this very different universe. Perhaps you were just comatose, and this was a dream. Still, by now, you had managed to slip into your role as the barista of the small coffee shop, a barely mentioned background character, just fine.

Your eyes jumped back to the couple in the corner, giggling and teasing each other over a group project, and you felt an immense relief you weren't reincarnated as the main protagonist and had to go through the years of studying and trying to establish connections with the love interests again. You already did that in your old life, and it wasn't as romantic and fun as the game made it out to be. You only played it because it got your mind off things, the art was pretty, and it had the exact amount of cozy time management you needed to relax. But living as the main character in it? No, thank you!

"Jealous?" your regular teased, and you chuckled, shaking your head. They tapped their—now empty—cup, and you took it from them, replacing it with some water until you had the next cup of coffee ready for them.

"I just think it's cute. I never had someone so interested in me they'd take me out for coffee and share their cake with me when I was younger."

Your words tasted a little bitter on your tongue. Still, you genuinely couldn't wish for anything but the main character's happiness. It was just the feeling of being loved, desired, and wanted that you missed, even though your new life was more than satisfactory despite you feeling a little lonely sometimes.

"Well, it's never too late to start," they chuckled, taking up their fork and cutting off the tip of their strawberry shortcake, including the big chunk of strawberry on top, picking it up and holding it out towards you.

"Oh, I wouldn't dare--"

"I insist! As thanks for the amazing coffee every time I come here."

Nudging your lips with their fork, you let out an awkward chuckle. It was okay, right? They wouldn't sue you for eating the cake they paid for, would they? This was just a silly little game. What could go wrong with you accepting their kindness?

Opening your lips, you let them feed you the cake, taking a moment to let the sweet and fruity notes mix with the fluffy whip cream before you were sent straight to heaven. Not to toot your own horn, but your baking skills had improved so much since you started working at the shop. Who knew you had that in you?

Occupied with the moment of bliss as you let the cake flavor mix in your mouth, you hummed happily before devoting yourself back to making the coffee with a smile on your face. Unaware of your regular fixating on the fork you had just eaten from, staring at it like it was some strange artifact. Your phone dinged softly in its drawer, and you checked it briefly to see the notification pinging up, saying, "Achievement unlocked: Cake-Master - Provide the most delicious cake to your customers."

"Excuse me!" the main character called out to you, stepping up to the counter, and you directed your attention to her, ignoring the little game notification you've been receiving since starting your new life here, the love interest not far away before the two began fighting over who was going to pay the bill this time lovingly. Of course, the love interest won, but you wouldn't have expected it any other way. Seeing the blush on the main character's face after her romance option told her he'd "always take care" of her made you grin like a little fan, and you cheered them on in your head.

By the time you returned to your regular, their knuckles had gone white with how hard they were gripping the fork in their hand, their eyes following the couple who was about to leave. For a moment, it made you wonder if they had a crush on either of them, their sweet interaction surely uncomfortable if that was the case. But you didn't remember there being a jealousy scene in the game. You'd know, almost playing it 100% before your death. There apparently was a secret route you never got but were trying your hardest to achieve. Now you were left to wonder what it entailed.

But the second you returned, they looked up at you, expression softening and the tension disappearing, and you chalked it up to having witnessed a cringe moment that they had gotten so awkward. "Thank you for the cake, that was really nice of you! Do you want another fork?" you asked and were met with a headshake and a smile.

They quickly began eating their cake and complimenting your baking skills, stroking your growing ego when they rubbed their belly.

"I never had a cake that good!" they proclaimed, and you laughed out loud, overjoyed that you had made them so happy.

"Say..." they suddenly spoke up again, leaning on the counter and watching you with gentle eyes. Your heart set out for a second, tension rising as you didn't know what they were going to ask. Ever since you opened the coffee shop, the main character, love interests, and this regular had come by constantly. If you were honest, you enjoyed their visits more and more. Their presence felt like it belonged here with you, and you were a part of something bigger after all, washing away the small, lonely part of you.

And maybe... just maybe... this was how your happy end would play out.

"Are you this nice to every customer?"

Halting your movements, you set aside the brew head that you used on the espresso machine, despite having to clean it, thinking about your answer for a moment. It was a strange question to ask someone who worked in customer service. Still, you appreciated your regular, so you didn't want to give them a snarky answer.

"Uhm, well, I am just trying to make everyone feel welcome! But of course, it's a bit different with my regulars! After all, they come here often, like a second family. So I guess I'm a bit nicer because you really get to know and appreciate these people that stay to chat and tell stories."

"I see," they muttered. "Family, huh..."

After that, you suddenly were swamped with sudden orders, excusing yourself to fulfill them, chatting and laughing with even the people that were just passing by. Maybe you really were just nice? Perhaps this new environment had made you more relaxed and gentle than the harsh world you lived in, and it was showing? But their question was shoved into the back of your mind as you kept fulfilling orders and earning your keep.

Once the rush was over, you returned to your regular, only to find their seat empty. Strange, you thought. You could have sworn that you felt their eyes on you the whole time you were away, but luckily, they didn't walk out on their tab, leaving the money and a folded-up napkin beneath their empty cup for you to find. You quickly stored away the bills, trusting your regular with knowing what they had to pay after so many weeks of the same order.

You were about to throw away their napkin when you noticed some red marks on them, unwrapping the paper to find a note scribbled in what you had to assume was ink.

"You're so beautiful when you laugh."

The surprise wore off quite fast, and you smiled, thinking nothing of it but that it was a nice compliment from your regular. Still, you ended up throwing the napkin away—not knowing if it was dirty, after all—taking the coffee cup and plate to the sink to clean them, overseeing the red tip on the fork that was too dark to be from the strawberry.

The rest of your day was uneventful, and by the time you were closing, you were tired and ready to tug in for the night, wrapping up your business at the shop quickly before walking home. You didn't have a chance to look at your phone since you glanced at the achievement notification, so you took it out, startled when you saw a dozen new messages.

Achievement unlocked: Happy new life - Be content with your new life

Achievement unlocked: A fork for two! - Share a fork with someone special

Achievement unlocked: Jealousy - Make someone special jealous

Achievement unlocked: Soothing - Calm someone special down with your presence

Achievement unlocked: Family - Have someone be moved by your words

Achievement unlocked: The nicest person in town - Be beloved by all, but especially by someone special

Achievement unlocked: Blood in the cup - Have someone hurt themselves at your coffee shop

Achievement unlocked: Wonder-Barista - Complete twenty orders in less than thirty minutes

Achievement unlocked: Strange compliment - Receive a compliment through unusual means

Achievement unlocked: Blooming infatuation - Have someone special fall in love with you

Achievement unlocked: Shop-Pro! - Close the shop twenty times after making a profit from your work

Achievement unlocked: Tired - Hard workers deserve to relax

You blinked a few times, surprised by what you were reading and a little weirded out by some of these achievements. They gave you some extra coins in your shop till and reputation with the townspeople, so you usually didn't mind them. But to say some of their descriptions were weird was an understatement. You couldn't even remember someone getting hurt at your workplace that day.

By the time you reached your apartment, you decided to ignore the strange notifications and just let the day come to an end with a hot bath and your favorite show. But you were startled when your phone suddenly began ringing loudly, even though you had turned off the sound back at the coffee shop after the first notification. The first messages that appeared before you were more achievements, and you stopped turning the key in your door as you read them.

Achievement unlocked: Follower - Have someone special follow you home

Achievement unlocked: Welcome home! - Arrive at home, not alone

Achievement unlocked: Wherever you go, I'll be watching you - Ɨ ΔΜ ΔŁŴΔ¥Ş ŴΔŦĆĦƗŇǤ ¥ØỮ

Lifting your head, you looked around you, glancing over your shoulder and into the courtyard below. No one was out; everyone was at home eating dinner and occupied with their lives. Confused, you swiped all the notifications away before another pop-up appeared.

ALERT! You're about to enter X's route. Do you want to continue?

> Yes > No

Panicked at this point, you pressed "No," but nothing happened. You kept tapping it repeatedly, not understanding what was happening with your phone. But nothing changed, the notification staying in place. The sound of something breaking inside your apartment tore your focus away from your phone, startling you.

You must have finally managed to close it, the pop-up disappearing just as you unlocked the door to your apartment, still having held on to the key when you were surprised by the sound. Darkness and silence greeted you from inside, everything seemingly normal.

Majorly confused, you shook your head, slowly entering the hallway leading inside. "Hello?" you called out, reaching for the light switch. The light flickered on, and... there was no one. Holding your breath, no sound reached your ears, and you groaned, realizing you got freaked out about... nothing.

This wasn't some kind of horror game, and the story never had a murder-solving subplot. True, the ratings for it were kind of strange—it being rated as 18+ on the website—but seriously, what should happen in a cozy little city like the one the game played in? You didn't even think they had a police station here.

Pushing off your shoes as you shrugged off the weird feeling from before, you walked up the hallway to your living room, turning on the light before coming to an abrupt halt. There were broken pieces of glass underneath your living room window, but what really freaked you out came into view only when you lifted your head. You could look into the mirror of your cabinet door from your position, red marker dripping from it as if someone had hastily scribbled on it just seconds ago. You weren't sure it was a pen anymore, judging by its deep red color and the fluidity of it.

"𝘪 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺"

Your phone pinged.

Achievement unlocked:

On the Highway to Hell - Unlock the secret route

#isekai #yandere isekai #yandere!isekai #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

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chiliyue-archived · 10 months

Text

physical affection

includes; dazai, chūya, ranpo, atsushi

tags; these get just slightly suggestive (but its nothing too much).headcanons + some drabbles & shorts. these r longer than it should be - I got so carried away

I just woke up so if u find mistakes pls let me know :) I'm posting this before I come up with an excuse to delete it altogether

—DAZAI

handsy - that's really the only descriptor you need.

honestly, everyone knows you're his partner with how he acts around you; hand on your thigh, waist, shoulder. having to kindly smack him on the back of his head when his hands trailed a little too far-

^ only for him to send you a pout and doe like eyes that fade when you indulge him a kiss. he has zero shame (often at the expense of receiving a sneer from kunikida who had the misfortune of witnessing sometimes. even then, he didn't stop kissing you)

favorite spot is the inside of your palms and knuckles - with a lingering yield on your pulse point. if you ever kiss those areas on him, he'll have cartoon hearts around him & everything

holding his face though? call him your pretty boy or literally anything sappy and he thinks he might just die on the spot.

on the flip side he's also… a bit of a bitch.

traces your bottom lip tauntingly with his thumb, the other is cupping your head to keep your gaze on him. he maintains keen eye contact and relishes in the way you crack while he remains steady.

his mouth is so close that when he speaks, you could feel it vibrate against your lips. but he never closes the distance, he makes you do that instead for teasing benefits :/(if you're shorter than him, it's so over)

revoke his kissing rights and he trails like a lost puppy behind you. " just one, bella?" he whines when you maneuver your head away. it's cute seeing him get all pouty - not so much when his patience runs thin and he takes matters into his own hands

-> caging you in his physique and kissing you hard. fingers calloused are rubbing against your jaw or brushing past your ear to interlock, teasing the surface of the skin as he does so. he enjoys the tremors and shivers it elicits, such reactions becoming burned in the back of his head.

you could barely make a sound with the vigor he expresses his cravings in with your bottom lip becoming captured between his canines

contrary to his theatrical displays, however, i also believe he exhibits a softened demeanor when cherishing you proper (soft dazai agenda)

the tempo of his kisses are slow yet not in accordance with his teasing. while the meandering of his hands grows greedy, when he speaks his voice is reduced to a low whisper, mumbling sweet phrases with each kiss.

✿

dazai wants to blame the bottom of sake for his vermillion flushed cheeks. more alarmingly, he wanted to ignore the way his heart squeezed when you reciprocated the kiss.

" darling," he pulls away, studying your expression. your hair was tousled, a swell blooming on your bottom lip from his recurrent nibbling and ministrations. the moment wasn't perfect, but he could bask in it for a lifetime. " are you getting sleepy?"

the pretty brown eyes you met were half-lidded and blinking. his bangs traced along your forehead from where he hovered, and if you squint, perhaps you would have noticed how the pink of his cheeks deepened the tiniest bit when you laughed at the tickling sensation.

you murmur something intelligible, the words swallowed by his mouth; he shivers when the syllables reverbate against him and the hand at your hip falters slightly. when he reels back, he remains close enough for his forehead to brush yours.

" repeat that, love."

" i said," you mumble, kissing the corner of his mouth. " can we to stay like this forever?"

almost instantaneously his body shakes in anticipation, heart lurching at the sincerity; how can you be so honest to a known liar like him? he slowly nods, his body arching until your chests were touching and breath pricked at your cheek. ever greedily, he seeks out another exchange, this one careful with a lingering touch of desperation.

an "okay" became lost as he gingerly grabs your chin, angling it just the tiniest bit to deepen it. in between the withdrawals and recoil, dazai chooses to ignore the way his breath stills in the pinnacle of moment, made potent when he twines his hand with yours. he provides the appendage a firm squeeze in coordination with the stirring in his chest, your inhales and exhales becoming synchronized.

he can't lie, he's been thinking just as much.

✿

dazai also likes your hands. chances are his are bigger than yours and he finds himself comparing hand sizes with you. his eyes crinkle when your fingers are dwarfed by his.

adjoined limbs are swayed back and forth when you walk together. same applies with intertwined legs, but when he's not busy doing that, he's playing footsie beneath the table.

he needs to be with you whenever he can!! the spot across your table remains permanently empty as he makes a home of sitting as close as possible next to you instead

he can't even be embarrassed with overly sappy displays, not when he's loving it twice as much. " good morning, osamu," you once said, palms cupping his face. he doesn't know if something has ever made his heartbeat spiked as hard as that did. " can I have a kiss?"

if he didn't turn to putty from the request alone, then it was the way you circled your thumbs on his cheekbones when he brushes his lips to yours. tentatively, he curls his hands behind your waist, holding you close before you get too far.

" can i have some more?" his eyes are shimmering in mischief as ever but his skin has progressively grown warmer since you've found him.

dazai is cuddly. getting to hold you close and listen to your heartbeat? yeah, he could die happy right now

unsurprisingly, napping with him is among his favorite passing time activities.

the closest you may get to see a vulnerable side to him is if you card your fingers through his hair. admittedly, he finds it troubling how his built-up walls crumble so easily with a couple of strokes. but the only thing he can focus on now is the sensation of fingers devoid of pain carefully tend through his hair and how warm his chest feels

kisses on the forehead when you're in need of comfort ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

✿

" i'm right here, love." when you glance up at him with red eyes and puffy cheeks he could feel his heart break right into two. even more so when your voice cracks and he tries to hide the way his face drops when it echoes in the somber ambience.

attentively, he cups your cheeks as his lips apply delicate pressure against your forehead. he sighs when he feels your trembling hands subdue and your breathing regulate; its panning against his skin rivaled any other comfort he could ever receive.

" better?" when you nod, he could feel his grin return, just a bit weaker. " today has been hard on you. get some rest."

" can you stay with me?" he already knew the answer in his head but it still makes chest swarm tremendously.

he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, lips brushing your forehead again. " of course."

he wasn't the one needing comfort and yet he still felt a deep-rooted tingle right in his chest when you hugged him closer than usual. he depised the circumstances behind it, but he couldn't deny the way it made his barren chest feel less akin to a husk when you felt so secured against him.

his hands start to comb shrough your hair, watching as the strands bend between his fingers and he ensures to provide your scalp proper attention now and again.

he wasn't sure if he'll be able to sleep, he was more concerned in making sure you did.

he blinks when you move to press your cheek against his chest, right where his heart should be. " thank you," your words were muffled against clothes, sending vibrations along his bones.

" you don't have to thank me." he places a last kiss to your forehead, the longest one of the night. his legs shift to intertwine with yours, listening keenly to the sound of your breath until it slows into an assuaging rhythm.

dazai can't recall the last time he had to take care of someone. it's made apparent as he grapples with uncertainty - almost becoming overwhelming with how powerless he felt in the situation.

though tonight, he was sure to hold you a little tighter.

✿

likewise if you kiss his scars and the skin beneath the bandages, he could feel the breath in his throat still and his heart do cartwheels. it's been so void of human touch for so long and he appreciates the care you exhibit towards something he considers to be ugly.

" all better now!" you punctuated your words with a kiss to the newly coiled cotton on his arms. dazai could do nothing but swallow hard, his "thank you" mumbled under his breath; he didn't like the pain, but it wasn't so awful when you spoiled him like this ♡

neck kisses + scattering the expanse of your throat with baby bruises you can not hide. afterwards, he traces it out with his index finger while he takes in the markings with great interest.

when it starts to fade he gladly renews them

✿

" that tickles," you murmur, voice reduced to a whisper; you couldn't trust yourself, not with dazai scattering kisses along the exposed patches of your neck. the rehearsal of which doesn't falter, even when you tug on his increasingly unruly curls.

" my apologies, 'bella," you wince as he captures a patch of your skin between his teeth. " i think i've found my favorite form of art." he has the gall to feign a tone of sympathy, lips arcuated at the growing disparity.

in addition to the nibbling, his fingers skimmed along your torso, moving in taunting lines he knew ran your sanity thin. dazai knew all the places that made you shiver, it was a piece of information that became abused with the movement of his hands in that moment.

against your rationality, you sunk into his touch, fingers twitching along his roots. it brought a simper you couldn't see but his satisfaction is made apparent when his actions grow sloppy, scattering along the expanse of your throat and meandering along your collarbone.

" you had every chance to leave," he smirks when you don't reply, content with the way your nails briefly printed on him. predictably, he gives another nibble on your skin, tugging back gently. " this might be my favorite spot."

right on the center of your unguarded throat.

" i can't hide those there."

he laughs, breath cascading skin. " that's what i want, darling." he thinks he might lose himself when you bring a particular tug in his hair, a sound akin to a grunt reverberating against your throat.

" you're being mean." dazai makes the mistake of pulling back, gracing him with your disheveled hair, reddened lips and growing streaks of red. already he finds it to be his favorite piece of jewelry.

" don't look so down," he pressed a kiss to one of the blooming blemishes, grinning as it became more pronounced. " you'll get your turn soon."

—CHŪYA

he takes his gloves off when he goes to touch your face. he doesn't want the sensation of skin on skin to be hamper by the piece of article.

kisses to your temples & neck are exchanges he shares on the frequent. though depending on the height difference, it may also be a gesture reserved for when you're sitting on his lap or cuddled up into him. head kisses in particular feel appropriate for anything really

as for himself, i'd say he likes to be kiss on the lips(mainly so he can distract from the growing crimson that tickles his forehead)

but it's hard with the handsome face chūya has. his growing pout tells you he's growing impatient when you favor his cheeks, but the hand gripping your sleeves are so counterproductive

" can you do it properly?" he gruffs, brows furrowing that weaken by your persistence. his skin was growing warm from the kisses you spoiled him with but it hardly compares to the proper thing on his lips, aching for the familar sensation almost painfully.

he shivers when you trail to his mouth, just shy of it and his grip tightens. " like this?"

his eyes flutter shut when you close the distance and before he could realize it, his hands began to sift through your hair. " yeah," his exhale was shaky, voice dropping to a low lilt. " don't stop that."

he sleeps with his head buried in your stomach - his nose is brushing against your abdomen with toned arms slithering around you like a form of cocoon

it reaches a peak when you brush your thumb over his scalp, and you can physically note the way the muscles in his body sink. you can't see his face, greeted instead by a cascade of reds; but his lips pull into a grin at the action

it grants you the opportunity to play with his hair. and sometimes, when he wakes up to find the claw clips and cute brooches that push his bangs aside and show off his pretty eyes, he won't be tempted to remove them right away.

✿

he wanted to roll his eyes when he saw you pull out the collection of hair clips, taunting pastels and neons gawking back at him. but he has to admit, he stopped caring the moment you started to play with his strands of hair. the locks weaved through your fingers, silky and soft stirring a form of ease that compels him to remain still. when he did move, it was only in an effort to bring himself closer, almost like snuggling(though he profusely denies it as such and regards you a scoff that doesn't compliment the rest of his actions).

had he not been treading precariously the boundaries of sleep, he may have been able to pick up on the way his heart quickened; a solace riveting up his spine and leaving in the form of a breathy sigh.

he blinks his eyes at you, nose scrunched up when you start mapping out his handsome features with your thumb. " you're getting distracted."

you acknowledge his statement with a coy grin and chūya felt his heart swell even at its simplicity. "i know." you move to press your lips to his forehead; if the smile wasn't enough to dissipate the frown on his face, that was the drug.

a flash of color peeks in the corner of his eye as you draw another clip. " i was just wondering how you would look in pigtails," you joke and chūya could feel his face twist— eye twitching at your jest.

" you're pushing your luck."

" it won't be that bad, chū."

" i could leave right now." his voice was terribly unconvincing when brooches adorned his head.

" you would have left a long time ago." you grin when he doesn't refute you. " just relax."

chūya knows he's defeated when you thumb his scalp again, eyes screwing shut involuntarily. " you're enjoying this too much," he grumbles. he tilts his head to the side, granting you access to his hair, hands falling pilant against your thigh. it bewilders him how much relief washes over him as you start to pry the strands apart again.

you know he's fallen asleep when he stopped replying to your ramblings; his words going from full sentences, to sporadic words and then slurred vowels. when you peek down, he's resting comfortably on your lap, lips slightly parted and allowing light snores to fill the silence.

chūya is far too deep in his subconscious to contemplate anything, but if he could, he thinks he might just get addicted to this.

✿

a clingy drunk. in addition, the alcohol is effective at loosening his tongue, resulting in declarations of his undying love that are muffled when he goes head first into your stomach (≧▽≦)

in lieu of that, he likes to spoon you, with himself being the big spoon. he has his head in the crook of your shoulder, and you feel his inhales and exhales against your skin.

he likes your body heat, it grounds him to earth and coaxes a soft demeanor that he fails at suppressing

thoughtful when it comes to kissing in the public eye. he isn't fond of drawing that form of attention to your relationship, but he isn't opposed to stealing a couple of kisses now and then.

it's fast, it's simple and enough to satiate you and himself. and it's enough to tell onlookers that he's your bf

it that didn't give the memo, its the gloved hand on your waist that spoke to people that you were taken.

though that doesn't stop him from tugging you closer in a spur of his protective tendencies. it's a subconscious act he does when you pass a group of people or when yokohama is notably crowded. it's not merely because he's short and is worried about losing you to the sea of wayfarers(at least thats what he tells you) - rather, it roots from a concern that's only repleted when he knows you're safe

behind close doors, however, his kisses lack patience if the way he's gripping your clothes is anything to go by. and while he demonstrates a growing restlessness, he remains pensive to his own strength and withdraws to give you proper time to catch your breath.

but he knows exactly what to do intensify each one and make your brain go hazy

cupping your cheeks, tilting your head, voice speaking in a meticulous timbre that shakes your skull. you're far too consumed in the kiss to recognize when his free hand has found its way to your back, gliding along the spine before slipping beneath the hem.

his gloves are cold against your skin, mumbling a faint 'sorry' that's nearly swallowed when he brushes his lips to yours for nth time.

the limbs explore along the dips and contours, pinching your sides and smirking into the kiss when you yelp in surprise (inwardly, his heart is beating so fast, he wonders if you could hear it when his chest is pressed against yours.)

without the gloves, his hands are a hint warmer. but even warmer are his cheeks when you press kisses to it. he knits his brows together in an attempt hide how much he likes; ultimately, he betrays himself when he pulls you closer

✿

" what the fuck are you doing," he stammers as you press a kiss to his warm cheeks. despite himself, he makes no effort to move when you brush your lips on the other - even warmer than the neighboring pair.

"kissing you," you hum. "... want me to stop?"

" no." he hates how fast the words left him and he hates how you grin at that. it was just the thing to crumble his resolve - and more specifically, it's just the thing to make him go mellow, subservient to your ministrations with his heart beating erratically - even within the scrutiny of strangers and coworkers.

" give me a warning next time." he wants to frown but the expression dies when you crane your head to make contact wherever you can reach. in reponse, an arm finds purchase on your hip, shuffling you closer until you are nuzzled up to his build.

he wasn't sure what rumors would circulate if people saw him being soft - and frankly, he couldn't bring himself to quite care much about the prospect either; inwardly, he was already missing the rehearsal of your lips on his, a desire not easily quelled and he was far more occupied with fixing that.

you let out a confused hum when he suddenly taps at your cheek indignantly. " well?" a thumb hooks beneath your chin, bringing you just shy of his mouth. "are you going to finish what you started?"

✿

when he's making kissy faces with his partner, it's nobody's business.

if you have dimples, he kisses those, each one before concluding it off with your lips

chūya just likes to be in contact with you in some way really. longing to hold your hand and scribe incoherent phrases on the palm. reflected in the way his feet nudge closer to yours and how he never fails to hold your hand beneath the table. when handing you items, he reveals a form of reluctance when he detaches away.

i really want to say he does that thing where he places his fedora over his chest when he kisses your knuckles. he tries really hard to maintain eye contact, but it falters when you send him a beam that makes his chest ache from beating so fast.

and lastly, he never leaves without getting a goodbye kiss first.

✿

" you're forgetting something." chūya vexed— furrow brows bruising his otherwise neutral expression. he hasn't moved from where he stood, silhouette stilled by the partition with nothing but the perpetual tapping of his foot to remind you of his presence. it took all of your strength to push back your laughter at his childish display.

" i am?" you question with a tilt of your head. the inquiry rewarded you with a huff from the former, lip twisting into a frown. admittedly, he looked cute when grumpy, pretty dark eyes tracking you behind colored bangs.

" my kiss?" an index finger points to his neglected lips, promptly chooses to ignore the red hue that harbored along his cheeks, tickling his forehead tauntingly.

chūya tracks your movements as you stride forward, cupping his cheeks within your palms. he resists the urge to close the distance himself - as alluring as it was - he sought out satisfaction when you comply with a genlte kiss. against his own volition, a breathy and likewise dreamy sigh leaves him, just barely audible by the exchange.

his hands sneak down to rest on your waist, twitching when you press a final peck to his cheek. promptly, you decide not to comment on the way a grin was threatening to crack on his oh so serious face.

" better?"

"very."

—RANPO

yk in the movies where the guy picks up the girl and spins her around when they kiss? ranpo wants you to do that with him but he's the girl.

piggyback rides ! except he's the one on your back :/ " to the detective agency, y/n!" he jabs out a lithe finger, his dimple smile steady even when you meet him with a glare over your shoulder. it makes him more eager than anything, face squishing against your cheek as he loops his legs around your waist.

" don't give me that look" he exasperates, a brow quirk at your nonverbal response. " the world's greatest detective can't be in better hands."

" you can get there yourself," you sigh, averting your gaze back in front of you. it was hard to fight against him, his persistence shaping your decision the longer he clinged to you.

" thats the boring alternative. duh," he breathes, nuzzling his cheek against your hair. " you know me better than that. besides, i like it when you hold me."

likes kissing you. he will rope up any excuse to steal a kiss. he finished a piece of paperwork? he deserves a reward. finished eating a cookie? kiss the crumbs off. you have absolutely nothing else to do? well, his lips are right there, give him a smooch <3

his kisses taste sweet, the faint traces of chocolate and jams coating his lips. it won't be too far from him to make you guess the flavor of cake he had that morning, but really you think he's just trying to pull more kisses from you. cause he is

✿

" tastes sweet." ranpo shudders when the words vibrate against his lips, cheeks deepening to a rosy hue but the playful glint in his eye ceases to falter. " banana or strawberry?" you blink, a pensive look comprising your features.

a hand cups the back of your head, bringing you close enough for your lips to hover his, still glossy in faint syrup. " nope~!" his proceeding laugh was cut short as he closed the distance again, the ache to kiss you too profound. and with you seated on his lap, he utilized the given opportunity greedily.

you resist the urge to gasp when his tongue swipes along your lower lip, with it the tinge of a fleeting flavor; you recall watching him eat something sweet and sugary in the morning.

he smiles against your mouth, savoring your reactions and attempting to draw out the kiss. " that's definitely strawberry," you contemplate.

ranpo whines when you withdraw, grip tightening against your hands in a stubborn display - it was perhaps the most desperate response you've gotten from him that evening. " are you lying?" you tease with a knowing look; you don't think you've ever seen him shake his head as vigorously as he did now.

" i think," he brushes the corners of your mouth, fingers settling against your chin. "you'll just have to kiss me until you get it right."

the possibility to ponder a response was stolen from you, swelling lips already chasing your own with renewed zeal. dumbfounded, you were naive to the abandoned slice of shortcake just a couple tables away. but by the time you discover it, your little game would be long forgotten.

✿

his childish demeanor often seeps through into his portrayal of affection, fond of sweeping you off your feet at the displays(and at times quite literally too)

it varies in forms; one day he can slump against you like a koala, grip like a vice. and the next he decides to randomly squish your cheeks and bring a kiss to your puckered lips

" ranpo-?!" you sputter, disoriented from sudden and hasty movement. you recall looking over some documents, the next you were gazing into wide green orbs and a nose bumping yours. a self-satisfied look curls on his face, relishing in the way your face fumes beneath his touch.

" surprise~"

" what was that for?"

" just wanted a kiss." he evades the hand on your cheek in favor of curling your bangs around his finger. " i'll come back for more."

he's shameless, unafraid and bold. perhaps not to a similar depth as dazai, but ranpo yields an unpredictability that easily leaves you mellowing in his ministrations

blows raspberries on your cheeks and palms just to coax a laugh from you. it's a reaction he can't help but mimic too and implores you with a "my turn!" while tapping his cheek expectantly.

has probably nibbled on your cheeks at some point too…. :/

likes to hold your hand, slipping it into space randomly and nonchalantly. he sticky like that; appearing from thin air and finding your hand trapped with his.

even better if you sit on his lap or vice versa

when you sleep, he lays on top of you because he doesn't want you to leave him alone. plus! it provides him the perfect advantage to pepper his lips on your collarbone or other patches of expose skin

goodnight kisses (and nap kisses) are a must and he turns greatly fussy when denied such "necessities" as he puts it

✿

" i'm only going to get a glass of water," you reassure him, sweeping his messy bangs aside to press a kiss to his forehead. the crease between his brows goes slack, but his grip remains fixed; it was late, and the last thing ranpo wanted was for you to leave your spot on the futon. " i promise."

his eyes surveyed your face for an inexplicable answer and the fidgeting of his fingers against your forearms tells you he's hesitant.

a silence shrouds the dorm before he speaks again, voice weakened and resigned - it almost made you want to stay in bed with him, enveloped by the unspoken words and his endless aura of affection. " okay." you trace your finger over his cheek, pallid and smooth beneath the pad - the gesture was persuasive enough for his grip to grow lax. he didn't let you get too far yet however, an outstretched pinky waiting before you. he bestows you a broaden grin when you accept it, pressing a kiss to the tip of the adjoin digits.

he doesn't leave your side even as you fix yourself a glass of water, your shared blanket haphazardly draping his shoulders and trailing behind him. he lingers by your arm even as the facet runs, interrupting his thoughts with tired green blinking in impatience. and he watches you through his bangs as you replenish your thirst, already looping your arm and guiding you back to your futon.

not a second after your head meets the pillow, ranpo wraps himself around you, dawning a smile now that you're back with him. he didn't care if his elbow was probed at an odd angle, he just wanted to be as close to you as possible.

" you can't fall asleep yet!" he whines, pulling on the sleeves of your shirt languidly. " it's only fair if you give me a kiss."

" i gave you one earlier."

his gaze shifted to a mixture of displeasure and yearning, small hands pulling eagerly on the fabrics of your clothes. his pleading green eyes made it hard to resist his demands, obscuring into a candid vulnerability you seemingly wielded over him.

" but," ranpo leans close enough for his nose to brush yours, messy fringe framing his sleepy face. his hands flex around your palms, nails scuff on the contours, voice going so low you almost didn't hear him. " i can't fall asleep without it."

✿

pinches your cheeks when in vie for your attention. in any case, he isn't against stomping his foot and whining as a last resort :<

his pout dissipates when you grant him with a collection of kisses or allow him to sit on your lap, fiddling with the ends of your hair or scribbling random phrases on your thigh that he makes you guess

i wouldn't put it against him to randomly jump into your arms or back. the questioning glances he receives hardly impedes him, instead murmuring an "i miss you," into your shoulder. he quivers in your arms when you comb your fingers through his hair, eyes squeezed shut in an air of bliss.

when it comes to deep embraces, he nestles against you akin to a cat, hands pawing wherever he can reach with greedy intent. and that cloak of his can easily encompass the pair of you, performing as a makeshift den of sorts. it feels like your enclosed own little world with him pressing kisses along your face like a butterfly

ranpo is attentive, all too familiar with your habits including the ones you don't cognitively account for. he notes the way you fidget with your fingers, and increasingly it came to be with his fingers you grew fidgety with. if you have a habit of tugging your sleeve, it's not your sleeve you're tugging on anymore but his instead.

he comes to recognize these patterns and responds in kind either with a squeeze to your clasped hand or tapping against your skin in a form of code.

has love hearts in his eyes when you offer to feed him. if he's feeling kind, he'll reciprocate the gesture, though, often at the expense of getting something he wants.

napkins are overrated, kissing off the crumbs or using his thumb are so much more favorable alternatives to him

" say ah~"

you cocked a brow as sugar became smeared on your lip - hardly helped by the titter coming from him. ranpo's persistence was tenacious and the myriad of his treats proved to be bottomless. you weren't sure how many treats you've been fed at that point but it's evident the former found enjoyment from the coddling as evidence of his dimpled smile.

ranpo offers you another confection, a velvety cookie glazed in congealed frosting. when you indulgently take a bite, the filling melts in your mouth and the taste of vanilla floods your taste buds.

" it's good right?" he gives you a smile as he observes your face, brightening when you react positively. " i got them just for you. i knew they were your favorite."

he suddenly pauses, eyes fixating toward your direction. he pays little heed to the look you send him, not when his gaze centers south; that should have been your first sign to up and leave - you want to blame his bribery of treats for your reason to stay.

" you got crumbs all over your face," he said, eyes squinting. while his tone was gentle with a trace of mirth, the way his eyelashes batted innocently at you alluded otherwise. ranpo always held a resurgent glimmer in his eyes, one that he couldn't blink away easily.

he hastily stops you before you could grab a napkin to dapple it away, residing to instead run his thumb along the corners of your mouth. the deliberate proximity catches you off guard and given how his lips shift into a faint smirk; that was exactly the reaction he was hoping to coax.

" much better," he leans back but not without pressing a peck to your nose first.

he plucks out another cookie - and much to your surprise doesn't eat it down right away. more accurately, he crudely cracks it half, revealing an abundance of sugary filling hidden within the confines. without a hint of hesitation, he dips a finger into the cream frosting and messily swatches it against his mouth.

his dimpled smile doesn't leave him for a second even as he slots in front of you directly. his pink cheeks and light stutter chipped away at his facade but his green eyes and lips pulled into a firm beam remained confident.

you almost detested the way it was infectious otherwise you would have rolled your eyes.

ranpo reached out to cup your cheeks, waiting. " it's only fair you do it back, okay?"

—ATSUSHI

he holds a lot of hesitation when it comes to enacting anything physical and it shows.

modest, never performing any actions without your explicit consent. even so he exercises slow movement and allows you the opportunity to withdraw if you so desire.

he follows you around a lot though, seeking comfort from being your presence

it shows in the way he inches himself closer to you when you're in the general vicinity. in the way he glances at you for confirmation before lacing fingers. in the way he scoots his chair to close just so his thigh is just slightly nudging yours.

he questions how you're able to be so composed even with something as minimal as brushing clothed skin because inwardly he's going abrack and he can't focus on anything else

" atsushi are you listening to what i'm saying?" your voice broke him from his stupor, head perking up

in the following moment he could do nothing more than let out a nervous laugh, eyes fluttering in companion of scarlet cheeks. " ye- i… erm.. can you repeat that please?"

actually him -> (〃´𓎟`〃)

his favorite physical attributes about you are your hands, i think! they're so strong, and it fits into his perfectly <3 he can spend an hour just tracing the lines along your palm and appreciating the details

as such he's a hand holder as well. he shyly links his pinky with yours before gradually lacing the rest of the digits. when he looks at the joined limbs, it's like a shot of comfort runs right through him.

✿

you often catch him peering at you in the corner of his eyes, mosaic of yellows and purples squinting in intrigue. presently, his hands go clammy, fidgeting against his pants at a random manner; it was a common gesture of his, one that didn't go by unnoticed by you.

" something wrong?" he eases up a bit at the sound of your sincere tone.

" no, not at all," he gives off a nervous laugh, hand scratching the back of his neck. too far into his nerves, he failed to to recognize how the area became chafed. " i was just wondering," he paused, lips shaped into a bashful smile. " can i… hold your hand?"

atsushi didn’t have a mirror on him but he doesn't doubt that his face can put tomatoes to shame.

fortunately, the stiffened muscles on his back go slack at the giggle you release, a nervous chuckle pouring from himself. the erratic beat of his heart meanwhile, resumed its ricochet against his sternum, blood pounding on the lobe of his ear.

"you don't have to be so hesitant about holding my hand, 'sushi." you accentuated the statement by dipping your palm to take his.

it's evident he takes your words to heart, as next time he wordlessly hooks his index finger with yours before properly weaving the rest of the appendage. it was like a perfect puzzle, he reckoned and he gave his head the faintest tilt to gaze at it.

without realizing it, he rolls his thumb over the knuckles, savoring the exchange and the sensation of your fingertips on his. you haven't even spoken a word and already, his heart fills immensely full.

and if you pay attention, you may even catch him grinning at the presumably courageous gesture he mustered himself to do. his clammy palms tell you he's nervous, but it's hard to resist him when he's genuinely trying so hard.

✿

when he does garner the confidence however, he holds his hand out for everything; helping you out of the car(princess treatment w him tbh!), guiding you to bed when you're really sleepy, or when he just needs to be in some form of contact with you. he may even take it a step and pepper some kisses on the knuckles or rub the joints

moving his hand along your back when you're having a bad day of sorts. he may even resort to drawing shapes or random designs with the back of his nail as he listens to all your troubles

whenever your face scrunches up he kisses the pinched muscle until it goes loose again.

" there's that smile." he pushes aside his diffidence for your sake, cupping your cheeks before pressing kisses along your cheeks.

for himself, he finds a sort of reprieve by lying down on your lap. the moment his head makes contact with your thighs is like instant relaxation for him.

and all he can pay attention to afterwards is the sensation tickling his ribs and the way you mindfully took his roots within your fingers.

he seeks stability in such actions; his deep exhale occupying your dorm and meandering with the dust particles that float around him. he doesn't even realize how he's nuzzling closer into your body, eyes squeezing shut when you favor his scalp for a few seconds.

if he could purr, he would

kissing the tips of your fingers and hugging you from behind ♡

its the best form of affection he could ask for when he comes home groggy and sore from work

✿

" i'm home." exhaustion claws at his voice, movements stiff and sluggish as he strips of his tie and other accessories. his eyes surveyed the area, searching until…

a pop of familiar hues sweep into his vision. it revitalizes just enough energy to sustain a pair of open eyes, belied to the fatigue housed prior.

" welcome home, 'sushi." you greet with a smile he couldn't help but mimic even as the muscles in his body disagreed with it.

your mouth moves to mumble something else, but the words become intelligible to his ears. he was more far more concerned in slumping into the crevice of your shoulder, head falling into familiar position.

" miss you," he murmurs, rubbing his cheek against you, affectionate as ever. his hands wander down to your waist, finding the hemline. perhaps his growing daze subdued his rationality, for his hands slipped beneath, pinky faintly hitting skin.

" let's go." you gently tugged on his arm, intending to guide him to your futon; you only managed a couple steps before his grip went firm. almost uncharacteristically. when you turn your head, your met with a pair of fluttering lashes gazing at you - droopy but in its reflection was an intangible touch of fondness.

" this is fine," he brushes his lips to your cheek. the gesture was sloppy but enough to rekindle a grin on your face. " just want you here."

his finger sprawled against your stomach, heart hastening when you leaned back into him. he took the opportunity to douse himself in your comfort, relishing when you brush your fingers past his ear and scratch along his head.

he feels himself sink more when your nail caught a certain spot, just lateral to his head.

if it weren't for your voice breaking the silence, he would have surely fallen asleep at that moment.

" i'm right here," you murmur. " go ahead and rest." he wasn't sure how those words could weigh heavily on him as it did and also provide him the lull to drift off to sleep. but it didn't matter. the real thing is so much better than he can ever imagine.

✿

when you cuddle together, he prefers to settle with his hand or head where your heart should be. the thumping is so reassuring, especially when his insecurities pipe up. he needs to know you're still there :(

on the days he can't sleep, he finds himself playing with your fingers: gently flexing the joints and counting the knuckles

he's docile at anything routley intimate; fuming a pair of uncomfortably hot cheeks and legs reduced to jelly. his words often come in the form of stutters and slurred syllables, the slightest of touches jolting him.

his actual kisses though are gentle and considerate, favoring areas such as your hands and cheeks.

in contrast, the drawn-out gestures are hesitant at first. when it came to the first kiss, he had to swallow down his nervousness.

" did i do okay?" he inquires, eyeing your countenance. he feels a crash of relief when a grin curves on your lips and in turn he flashes you a dazzling amiable smile.

"good." he nods at that, removing the space again with the intentions of lengthening it and making it better than the last. good was fine, but he wants perfect when it came to you

when atsushi gets a taste of what physical affection can be like; pecks at his face, squeezing your hand and spooning you close - he's hooked. and he wants more, becoming akin to an insatiable pit. and it's profound.

he yearns for more kisses and lingering embraces that set his nerves aflame. he yearns to be closer to you until it was just impossible.

it also spurs a part of him(and in consequence of his ability as well) a yearning to leave some markings along your skin. he tries to be considerate in where he places it, but he himself is awful at hiding his own blemishes.

✿

a shaky expression drops on his face, the faint pink on his cheeks deepening to a cherry blush. he wasn't familiar to having your lips press beneath his chin, outlining the thrum of his throat - you could feel it's cadence whenever he sharply exhales, in pair of his palpitating heart.

even within his daze, atsushi remained cautious to not sink his nails into your shoulders. in comparison, he fails to suppress his shudder when your lips brush against a particular spot, air knocked from his chest.

when you glance up at him, his face contorts into a form of raw desperation, tugging onto your clothes until you were just shy of his mouth. meekly, he tries to not linger his gaze on your lips as you spoke; " is this fine?"

it's like you're teasing him, puffy magenta lips gawking at him and he wants nothing more than to kiss you again.

" it is." from the corner of his eye he could make out the faint reds that probed from his clothes hemline, dotting along his collarbone like swatches of paint. he doesn't think he'll ever grow use to it, filling him with an exhilaration he reasons can't be replicated elsewhere.

" i like it actually." his eyes squeezed shut in an effort to steady the eruption of red on his cheeks but it did little to quell his racing heart when you cupped his face, pressing a kiss to his mouth.

" i'm glad, you look handsome like this."

his smile reaches his eyes. "you look pretty too." his nails dug into his palms in an effort of restraint as he returns the gesture in kind.

I was originally hoping to include fyodor but this was so long already. w/ him (& unfinished) it would be 8k words. I rlly want to do version for sigma and akutagawa too. ty boxing fyodor anon 4 enabling my behavior TwT

these have so much room for improvement but I've fiddled around with it sm (๑′°︿°๑). if this doesn't leave the drafts now, it never will. I'll fix mistakes laterrr

taglist; @eynnwwyjth @anqelically @seisitive @iheartpieck @seiiblue @averagebsdwatcher @solandiss @4nthonyyliving @guacamole-roll @sunnyx07

be added or removed here !

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churipu · 4 months

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OK HEAR ME OUT

nerd!nanami x girly!reader pls pls pls

thankss 💗

NANAMI WITH A GIRLY GIRL ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

featuring. nanami kento x fem! reader

warnings. i'm gonna make this a college! au , and a little cursing

note. hi nonnie, sorry that i just got to your request now — but i hope you like this :< uni's already getting real hectic, so updates might be a lil on the slow side.

nanami didn't fall in love with you at first sight — in fact, he finds you quite the nuisance. the way everyone loves you just because of the way you talk, the way you dress, the way you smell, your body language. he thinks it was all a simple act to fool people.

"hi, nanami!" you greet him, your bright pink colored apron dress flowing against the wind as you walked towards him elegantly — a white cotton cardigan covering your shoulders.

the male arched his brow mutely at your cheery voice, wondering what could someone like you want from him, "do you need anything?" he asks.

initially he thought that you were one of those people who'd woo him and try to get him to do your assignments, but he was proven wrong when you shook your head. giving out the brightest smile, showing off your pearly whites, "no, i was just saying hi."

then you brushed by him, the smell of your sweet fragrance entering his nostrils. sandalwood. you smelt like sandalwood and a hint of vanilla.

though he could then make sure of one thing, what an odd girl.

nanami was a good student. he focuses on his studies, while you try to fit in a bit of everything in your schedule — playing, hanging out, studying. but at the end of the day, nanami finds it shocking that you could pass with flying colors.

from his peripheral vision, nanami could see people crowding around you. he tells himself he didn't care about you, yet here was wondering why they were all over you.

"you told us you didn't study, you liar!" a girl pointed out accusingly at you, a smile pressed onto her lips.

"i just got lucky, i swear."

"that's what you said last time, y/n."

nanami didn't mean to eavesdrop, he knew it was wrong to hear someone else's conversation. but he couldn't help it when these people were speaking loudly — the only thing he could focus on was the fact that you had a perfect score.

call him weird, but he's all in for the brains.

the first time he officially spoke to you — nanami was a mess. he had never been in a proper conversation with most of the people at campus. most he's been in one is when he had to tell his group members off for being useless, but that was about it. and with you, he's a little awkward.

"oh, hi nanami! do you need anything?" you noticed that the male was eyeing you from his seat.

upon realizing what he had done, nanami immediately averted his gaze to the front. ignoring your words, not putting a second thought to it — but you shrugged it off anyways.

and the second time he laid his eyes on you for quite some time, it was in the middle of a lecture. so you slipped a note asking if he needed anything, and he replied with his own handwriting, saying "no".

embarrassed he'd gotten caught again. nanami felt like he was being discreet about his staring when in reality, it wasn't. and it's funny.

nanami didn't really understand why he was feeling like this. and he had nobody to talk to or ask about his feelings — so he made an assumption, it was the flu. coming into the lecture hall with a scarf tucked into his neck, and a white mask covering the lower half of his face.

"nanami, are you sick?" you asked him, and he nodded mutely, "well, it is flu season after all. i hope you get well soon."

nanami felt his heart flutter, and he chewed on his lips in frustration — if the mask had not been on his face, he was sure you'd be able to notice the frustration lingering in his expression.

his fingers frantically typing on the search engine typing out his symptoms, and every one of the choices ended up telling him the same thing.

he's in love.

but the male denied that, talking to himself how the internet was just a waste of time. he's in denial for a bit.

he's in denial of his own feelings. and would constantly turn away whenever you're there, passing by you in a rush as you were greeting him, or moving away to another seat when you sat next to him. forgetting the fact that you were also affected by his actions, wondering what you did wrong to him.

"hi nanami—" you waved your hand as the two of you passed by each other in the hallway.

but the male brushes past you in a flash, not even letting you finish your sentence. and you shrugged thinking that he might be in a rush.

but when it happened, again and again. you could definitely conclude that he is indeed avoiding you — hell, he won't even spare you a glance. and you wondered what you did wrong to him.

"is this seat—" you approached the seat next to him, ready to claim it but he stood up packing his things and moving to a lone seat three rows behind, "taken..?"

ouch.

nanami didn't feel like he did anything wrong until he was met by one of your friends. who — well, said anything but nice things to him. threats. warnings. and questions. even nanami didn't know the answer to.

"what the fuck did you do to y/n?" the female said, eyeing nanami up and down judgmentally.

what did he do to you?

"what?"

"i said, what did you do to her you dipshit?" wow. nanami could only furrow his brows, thinking of a possible answer that he is sure of because of the looks of it — even he didn't know what was going on right now, "why did you make her sad?"

"sad?" nanami questions, "i didn't talk to her."

"exactly. why didn't you? you know she likes you, right?" nanami's breath hitched at the revelation, and he shook his head, "what? are you stupid? and here i thought she was being too fucking obvious, god . . ."

he was too caught up to hear what the angry female in front of him had to say, he just focused on the fact that you— y/n l/n— liked him.

he was stupid with all these new feelings. and nanami wasn't used to being stupid — so for the first time, he had to ask your friend's help. asking guidance for what he should do, what you like, what he needed to say to you.

"just say you're sorry and confess. you like her too don't you?" your friend exasperatedly explained, already feeling a little exhausted from having to tell such a smart but idiotic male about love.

"okay."

your friend was a bit skeptical, so she had to elaborate and make a script for him (which he ended up reading in front of you by the way), "just try to memorize this and go."

nanami in fact, could not memorize the script.

when he knocked on your door, reading off the script in front of you. you find it funny, because you didn't know what was going on or what you expected.

"what are you doing, nanami?" you chuckled, shutting the door behind you as the male stood on your porch, holding the small paper your friend gave to him in his hand.

"apologizing."

"for what?"

"your friend told me i made you sad by avoiding you," you choked on your own breath, a bit embarrassed by your friend — flailing your hands a bit.

"she did? oh my god. i'll tell her to say sorry . . ."

nanami shook his head, "it's alright. and i like you too."

nanami and you made it official that night. and he, oh my god, he spoils you. rotten. despite being a college student — nanami has money. buying you dresses, hair accessories, flowers, anything he thinks reminded him of you, he will buy it for you.

"ken, what's this?" you question him as the male handed you a pink colored plastic bag.

nanami didn't answer you, but beckoned you to open it and to see for yourself. when you did, the sight of two shiny hair accessories made your heart flutter, "you got this for me? thank you so much, kento."

nanami gets very happy when he sees you using the things he buys for you, and he gets pretty upset when you tell him that he shouldn't be spending so much on you.

despite your advice, nanami still buys everything for you. he doesn't regret anything if it's about you.

he's a little tweaky and awkward at first, but as time goes by. he gets the hang of dating and relationships. the most gentle male, holding your hand, he will never let you walk on the outside part of the sidewalk, he stands behind you during an escalator ride up because you love to wear dresses, he will exchange his shoes for you if your feet were paining because of your own shoes (and he will carry your shoes for you), will carry your shopping bags and even your normal bag for you.

"let me carry that," he grabs your bag and carries it before lacing his fingers with yours.

"ken, you don't have to—"

"i insist." he cuts you off, smiling down at you and his hand squeezes yours lightly as if telling you that it was completely okay to rely on him because he loves it when you rely on him.

he absolutely loves going shopping with you. he gets the first look at new outfits, and he absolutely loves when you bring him to shop for new dresses. telling you to do a little twirl before complimenting you and how beautiful you looked. he always, always, ends up buying them all for you.

"so? how do i look?" you opened the door to the fitting room cubicle, showing yourself.

nanami had to hold back a smile from forming on his face, "turn around," he softly said — and when you did as he was told, the hem of your dress fluttering around as your body turns.

he finally broke into the smile, "you look beautiful." nanami compliments, taking your hand in his, "take the dress."

you chuckled, "ken, i already have two others. and you spent a lot on me — i don't want you to spend more on me."

nonsense.

nanami gets it for you unknowingly anyways, giving it to you on the walk back home from the mall. he always does that. always.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk #fluff #jjk fluff #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami #nanamin #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami #kento #nanami kento fluff

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femmeboyhooters · 2 years

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Ugh

#found out today i can't donate plasma like my husband was banking on and he is PISSED #not only am i not medically eligible bc of IV fluids (they fuck me up every time)#but bc the social security office fucked up on my name change i am not legally eligible #I'm not super pissed bc i hate medical shit but he is proper PISSED off since he wasn't planning on getting a job yet #and his friend told him he could support living from it but i doubt it since his friend is super stressed about money #honestly i kinda hate that friend #he's a mgtow 35 year old unmarried prideful man #with a ton of mental issues and seemingly a god complex #and he just fuckin hates me #bc he hates all women #so he refuses to listen to anything i have to say about anything #even feilds I've been studying for years #my txt

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youryanderedaddy · 4 months

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Tw: female reader, slight dub-con to con, degradation, sex toys pt.1 Happy Valentine's 💞💞💞

Bitchy mean girl, who basically forces you to come to her house every weekend with the pretext that she needs tutoring - and who's more fitting to help her fix her grades than her favourite little nerd?

You actually come prepared too, pink cutesy backpack stuffed with textbooks, footnotes, highlights and colourful markers. But the moment you step inside her house and Jess sees the sheer academic arsenal you've prepared, she burst into torching, mocking laughter. She flicks at your forehead, wiping off a single tear.

"You really thought we were going to study?" She scoffs, dragging you into her lap - smirking as she watches you panic and whine to be let go. She kisses you roughly, determined to get your lips fully wet and shiny, saliva dripping down your chin once she finally pulls away. "You're more stupid than I thought." The cheerleader grins with endearment. "You're lucky you're so cute."

She takes hold of both your thighs and spreads them apart, leering at the lacy white panties peeking underneath your skirt.

"Looks like you came prepared after all." Jess taunts, playing with the flimsy, frilly pink lining - toying with the little ribon in the middle of it. "Maybe deep down you knew this would happen." She grips your jawline, forcing your head up - eyes set on her lips. "Or ma-aybe... you were actually hoping it would." Her hand slips to your neck. "Which one is it, little slut?"

"N-no, it's not like that!" You try to defend yourself, cheeks heating up by the second. "I-I, I wasn't, I didn't-" You stumble all over your words - but your body betrays you, back arching wantonly as Jess brushes a single finger across your clothed slit. Giggling with content at your desperation, she starts rubbing you over your panties, enjoying the way you squirm and shake your head as if fighting the pleasure.

"You weren't what, nerd? You weren't trying to get yourself fucked like a proper whore?" The girl all but hisses down your throat, biting at your jugular - letting her lips soothe the initial sting. "You weren't trying to be all slutty and cute, making me want you?" You can feel her fingers finally, finally make their way down the elastic band, cupping your mound before the first digit slips inside you, forcing a lewd, breathy moan out of you. "You're so wet for me, yet you keep acting like you don't want it."

Her lips stretch into a thin, self evident smirk as she reaches for something in her pocket you can't make out from beneath her. You suck in a sharp breath, eyes still glassy from her teasing - both anxious and excited to see what's next.

"I have just the right thing for a little bratty bitch like you." Jess pulls you into yet another messy, sloppy kiss, grinning at the sight of your chin stained all over by her bright red lipstick. It makes you look so... hers. "Let's see how long you can hide your true feelings once I have you coming your brains out." She says, teeth bared with a sadistic little gleam in her dark blue eyes. You hear a buzzing sound - and then your vision fills with blurry lines and stars and raw, red - hot pleasure you can feel deep in your guts.

The cheerleader nests the small vibrator snugly against your clit, setting your nerves on fire. It's all too much - her soft, delicate hands touching you all over, the dirty whispers in your ear egging you on, the waves of ecstasy flooding your body each and every second. You try to catch your breath, but every time you open your mouth, the sounds that come out are all whiner and needier than the last.

"Aww, you're already doing so good for me, baby." Jess coos, head resting against your shoulder - holding you down tightly as your body writhes and jumps as if devoid of any control. "See? It's so much better to be honest." She presses the vibrator down once again, watching your button swell and twitch in overstimulation. "Let go completely." She licks your neck, driving you even wilder. "Let me make you mine, m'kay?"

And you think, hell, you might as well.

#yandere #yancore #female yandere #female yandere x reader #yandere smut #yandere oneshot #yandere x you #female yandere x you #female yandere x female reader

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schwarzkatje · 5 months

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filthy secret

summary ➴

loser!ellie is not just your average outcast — too awkward to avert her gaze when she spots you in the school's corridors and just as much of a coward to muster some courage to ask you out. when fate serves her the chance to get closer to you she panicks. bad.

author's notes ➴

i'm landing on the spectacular world of tumblr fanfics – a deranged world, at that, just like i want it. anyhow, the only thing i will apologise for is any grammar errors (since english is not my native language). the obscenities i'm responsible for are all intentional.

content warnings ➴

18+ MDNI • loser!ellie, nsfw, swearing, masturbation (!ellie), afab reader, sex toys (strap-on & masturbator), strap referred to as "her cock", dirty talk, humping, fantasising (everything happens in ellie's mind and ellie's mind only), implied top!ellie and bottom!reader, no capital letters as a stylistic choice • not proofread

fuck. fuck. fuck.

the agitated mix of her gritted teeth and the moist puffs of breath leaving her mouth confused ellie even more on whether the string of cuss words had been simply thought or had taken shape into a concrete and uttered form.

the people crossing her same path and turning their heads in confusion as well as faint fright suggested the latter. too bad ellie couldn't give two shits if that only served as confirmation of the title of "town's weirdo" she had been given.

ellie had other things on her mind. more precisely, you.

the closer she was home, the more vividly and intensely she started recalling what had happened that same morning. if thoughts are naturally impossible to organise due to their simultaneity nature, it was a given ellie's poor brain was reduced to a mushy mess.

shards of the images, the scent, the sounds and the feelings she had experienced assembled like torturers anxious to play their part in tormenting her.

your eyes have drifted towards ellie, during lunch you have passed by her just enough to leave your fragrance lingering, you have decided to wear one of her personal favourite skirts – the pastel blue one with all the frills which left ellie wondering if you actually matched your panties – your laugh had been audible like the most venomous of enchantments. but apparently all of this had not been enough since she clearly was undergoing a twisted endurance test which she could swear has been submitted by god himself, because your biology teacher paired the two of you and tasked you to work on a project together.

how can i possibly survive this?

frustration single handedly swept away any semblance of rationality and drowned her into an amplified version of the real world. one where you were its centre and she barely remembered to breathe.

"so... is it ok with you if we study at your place, ellie?"

she must have died and reincarnated because after you had said her name she felt a rush of pure ecstasy spreading through her body, making her core warmer and uncomfortable.

she somehow managed to at least nod and agree with a meek "y-yeah" to your plan of what day and what hour to meet.

this same afternoon.

and there she was. finally aware of her surroundings again after having detoured so severely bad, in her room, door shut and her tattooed right hand around the glistening strap – because of both her own spit and the dollar store hand cream used in lieu of a proper lubricant – that was dying to penetrate the little hole of the masturbator placed on her desk.

how she managed to take her strap out of the drawer, wear it around her bony hips and fasten the buckles, is something that could explained with the fact that this definitely wasn't the first, nor the third or even the tenth time she resorted to this. ellie had grown accustomed to the harness holding the veiny cock she had bought alongside the silicone pussy,

"fuck, doll... you're soaking and so fucking... fucking warm f'me"

the base of her strap was getting wetter and stickier, resulting in ellie picturing with meticulous precision how your own pussy would be.

now it was your turn to be teased beyond the point of no return. now it was ellie who took matters into her own hands and called the shots. and what better retaliation if not punishing you by teasing your begging and eager hole with the tip of her cock?

that's how ellie found herself thrusting her hips following the pace of helpless hiccups, back and forth for the last twenty minutes.

"you love this cock, don't you? s'the reason why you dress like that for me, mmh? you beg me to take you and fuck you all day because you can't go a day without feeling your pussy stretched around me... then take it, feel what you do to me"

ellie grabbed what she dreamed was you with full force and just as strongly drove the toy against her wet cock. she had heard of the alleged phantom dick experiences but never before had she felt like she could outline the shape of your gushing pussy, almost as if the strap had become a part of her through and through.

breathy and worked pantings only consolidated the more ellie bumped her toys against her crotch. she was losing herself again, too busy chasing a pleasure that was filthy, animalistic, crude and absolutely intoxicating.

ellie had to press her lips shut against each other the very moment her bud of nerves welcomed a particularly well dealt thrust and transformed the stimulus into the first tingling shock that made ellie flex, if a little, her knees forward.

her orgasm was approaching fast and with that the figments of her imagination cooperated to offer her the display of you, completely drunk on the punishment or reward ellie was gifting you. the same eyes and mouth with which you had kindly arranged your study session were now unfocused and wet with tears and open around nothing, imploring ellie to never stop.

with the hem of her shirt stuffed inside her mouth and the change in position of the masturbator – now flipped over, creating the illusion for ellie that she was now fucking you from behind – ellie's throbbing clit finally liberated itself and unleashed violent waves of pleasure which turned into sweet whimpers.

ellie was a destroyed woman. collapsing onto the bed behind her she closed her green eyes, as pleasurable itching splotches emerged now and then in various regions of her body.

what wouldn't she give to have you like she imagined. but she knew she would never be able to think coherently for more than two seconds with you around, let alone make you scream for her cock.

ellie was resigned to this scenario and although it hurt, all she wanted to do at the moment was calm her breathing and let herself be lulled by the rhythm of the world outside her room.

except, her doorbell rings.

#ellie x reader smut #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x y/n #the last of us smut #ellie smut #loser ellie

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vivwritesfics · 2 months

Text

Military Flyover

The dagger squad don't want to do a military flyover of the Las Vegas grand Prix. None of them really knew much about and, those that did only really knew about Nascar.

She hated the Vegas Grand Prix as much as those doing the military flyover. But the cute WSO there to support his friends was making it bearable.

Robert 'Bob' Floyd x F1 driver!reader

5.6K

a/n: yes a military flyover doesn't make sense for vegas buuuut let a girl dream lol - i'm hoping I've managed to write this for an audience that might not really know f1 but idk how confident i am in my abilities lol

Bob couldn't quite believe what the two time Top Gun graduates were having to do. They had completed an insanely dangerous mission and returned to be permanently stationed in San Diego, except from when they were called away for deployment.

They were a part of the military, why were they doing this?

Well, at least Bob didn't have to actually fly. He was a Weapon Systems Officer, he didn't have to take part in this. But he still went, more to morally support his squad.

Nat wasn't happy about have to do a military flyover of the Las Vegas Grand Prix. She, Bradley and Jake were constantly complaining. None of them knew anything about Formula One, not enough to appreciate doing the flyover.

(May I just say, even if they did know about F1, they still wouldn't appreciate it. They'd train for years to be in the navy and now they were having to waste their time on this.)

The flyover was on the Sunday. Only Natasha, Jake and Bradley were taking part. Bob didn't have to go, didn't have to visit the track on the Friday and the Saturday with the three of them.

But Natasha had begged him. "Drive up with me," she'd said to him. "It's five hours and I could use the company."

So, Bob agreed. His dad had sometimes watched Nascar while he was growing up. He didn't know much of anything about motorsport but, if Nat wanted him there, he'd go.

The navy pilots didn't know they'd been invited to meet the drivers. Bob followed Natasha through the paddock. "Getting to meet the drivers might be the only good thing thing to come from this," Nat mumbled as she led the way.

The paddock was buzzing with life. There were cameras following people around, interviews happening as they walked through the paddock. Fans stopped men in team shirts and hats for pictures before letting them continue.

There was a familiar whistle, just loud enough for Natasha and Bob to hear over the crowd around them. They turned and saw Rooster and Hangman striding towards them.

"Where are we meant to be?" Asked Hangman as Rooster pulled off his aviators and looked around. The three of them (Natasha, Jake and Bradley) were in their overalls, looking proper in their uniform. Bob, though. He was dressed down, wearing jeans and a sweater (Vegas really wasn't that warm this time of year), his military issued glasses sitting on his nose. He looked cute, even if he didn't know it.

"Cyclone said the Ferrari garage, right?" She said as she looked between the other aviators. Bob, who had studied the itinerary, nodded his head and the four of them set off towards the red garage.

***

The Las Vegas Grand Prix was a joke. All of the drivers thought so.

The Ferrari drivers weren't happy about it (just like the rest of the grid). They had spent the season struggling behind the Red Bulls and driving on an unknown track wasn't going to help that.

She needed a lot of mental preparation for this one. Just like the other drivers, before the first practice session her only experience on the track had been through sim racing. She was nervous in a way she hadn't been before.

She donned her red fireproofs, the overalls hanging from from her hips. She pulled her cap onto her head when there was a knock on her driver room door. "Yeah?" She called and the member of Ferrari staff walked in.

"The navy pilots are on their way," she said and went to back out of the drivers room.

"What?" The Ferrari driver called suddenly, her brows furrowed. "What navy pilots?"

The member of staff gulped. "They're doing a military flyover before the Grand Prix," she said. "They're on their way here to meet you and Charles," she said.

The driver let out a huff. She grabbed her drinks bottle and marched out of her drivers room, heading to find her teammate.

Charles was doing an interview for Sky Sports when she walked through the garage. She didn't much care, though. She powered on, her hand on Charles's shoulder as she stood at his side. "Chuck," she said, looking at her teammate.

Lawrence Barretto moved his microphone back to his mouth. "Is that his official name for the Vegas Grand Prix?" He asked and moved the microphone towards her.

"Yes," she said as Charles shook his head, repeatedly saying 'no'.

She stood beside him until the interview was over, answering any question Lawrence sent her way. As soon as they were done she grabbed Charles and pulled him away, pulling him further into the Ferrari garage.

"What's up?" Charles asked. He was a brilliant teammate, one of her best friends. They'd known each other for yeas and were close enough for people to think they were together at one point. Brocedes 2.0, many commented on the pictures of the two of them posted on the Scuderia Ferrari Instagram account, as if they were a disaster waiting to happen.

"Did you know we're having to meet the navy pilots doing the military flyover?" She asked, hands on her hips.

Charles furrowed his brows. And then his face relaxed as he shook his head at her. "Start checking your emails, please," he said.

She gently pushed him as a member of the Ferrari staff, the same girl from before, approached them. "They're here," she said and left them to it.

Charles led the way back through the garage, heading to where the navy pilots were standing around his car. Three of them, the three that looked the part, chatted with Fred while one, one that was dressed down, stood to the side.

Suddenly, she pulled Charles out of sight. "What is it?" He asked quickly, concern written on his face.

She looked back around the corner at the pilots for just a second. "Holy shit, Cha, I think I'm in love," she said and Charles just laughed.

"Do you need a wingman?"

She furiously shook her head. "Don't you bloody dare."

She steadied herself and followed Charles over to the navy pilots. Fred spotted his drivers first. He gestured over to them as he back away from the pilots, letting the drivers take over.

Charles held his hand out towards them introducing himself first. She went next, giving them her name as she reached out to shake the woman's hand.

"Natasha Trace," she said with a smile as she shook her hand. "Callsign Phoenix."

She moved on to the man with the moustache. "Bradley Bradshaw, or Rooster," he said and shook her hand, his grip firm. He wore a smile, but it was respectful.

Unlike the man next to him. She could tell who he was from the moment she looked at him, wearing that flirty smile. "Jake Seresin," he said, pulling her hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it. "You can call me Hangman."

The smile dropped from her face and she pulled her hand away, clearly unimpressed. She looked past him, at the guy in the sweater and the glasses. "How about you?" She asked, completely ignoring Hangman. "Are you in the navy too?"

Bob blushed bright red as he stepped forward. "Robert Floyd," he said and shook her hand. "I'm a weapon systems officer."

"Oh," she said. Just that one word and she sounded incredibly fascinated. "Do tell me more."

She'd asked Charles not to wing man her, but he did it anyway. She might not have been aware as Charles spoke to the other navy pilots, doing the job for both of them. (Charles didn't know if Bob was the one she had fancied, but it was easy to guess. He looked like her type).

They spoke for a good twenty minutes before the drivers were told to wrap up the conversation. "You got a call sign?" She asked Bob as she crossed her arms over her chest and leant against the wall.

Jake had been wrapped up in the conversation he, Rooster and Phoenix were having with Charles until that point. Upon hearing her question, he placed his arm around the WSO's shoulders and grinned at the driver. "This is Baby On Board," he said with a grin, going to pinch Bob's cheeks.

Again, his cheeks were flaming as he stepped away from Jake. "It's Bob," he said. "Just Bob."

"Just Bob," she repeated as she smiled at him, completely ignoring everything Jake had said (something that Bob was grateful for). "It's simple, I like it."

Her engineer called for her. She turned and put her thumbs up before turning back to Bob. "Are you staying for the free practice?" She asked and Charles couldn't stop himself from answering.

"Sorry," he said to the pilots. "She doesn't read her emails."

She sent a glare in Charles's direction. The drivers said a quick goodbye to the navy pilots (although she hoped it wasn't for the last time), and got themselves ready for the first practice session in Las Vegas. They pulled up the red and white overalls and placed the balaclavas over their faces.

Bob watched as she pulled her helmet on, hiding her undeniably pretty face. He really did think she was beautiful, and she seemed interested in him, but he wasn't going to read too much into that.

He couldn't see as she gave him a smile from beneath her helmet. When she climbed into the red car with the number 53 on it, Bob knew which one he had to look out for.

The track wasn't ready, everybody knew it. But they didn't know how bad it was until they shower of sparks coming out the back of her car. "What the fuck was that?" She said to her engineer down the radio. "I just hit a fucking manhole cover."

The pilots were leaning forward as she stopped the car. The session was stopped, the other drivers coming into the pits. She jumped out of the car, waiting for it to be lifted onto the truck so that she could look at the extent of the damage beneath.

As the car was taken back to the garage and workers surrounded the manhole cover, she climbed into the medical car and was taken back to the pitlane.

Bob watched as she stormed into the garage, pulling off her helmet and balaclava. "Nine fucking minutes!" She heard her say to somebody in a Ferrari shirt. "I officially hate the Vegas Grand Prix."

She looked around the garage, eyes focusing in on the pilots. They were watching her, too, and she forced her expression to soften as she walked over. "Sorry you had to see that," she said, unzipping her race suit.

Bob shook his head. "'s no worries, ma'am," he said before he could stop himself. When his fellow aviators looked at him, his cheeks flushed red.

"We're just glad to know you're okay," Natasha said for him.

The driver smiled at them. But the interaction was short lived as she was called over to her wrecked car. (It looked fine on the top, but everybody knew the damage was beneath, invisible).

The nine minutes of practice wasn't enough to help the aviators get into F1. Rooster, Hangman and Phoenix wanted to head back to their hotels, but Bob wanted to stick around.

"My dad was into Nascar," he explained as the others left. They nodded, but they knew better. Their Baby On Board had a crush.

She hadn't expect him to stay, that much was clear. She'd seen the other aviators leave and had gotten on with what she needed to do, speaking to the mechanics about the parts they needed to replace and speaking to Fred about the potential consequences.

"Oh!" She said when she saw Bob still sitting there. "I thought you would have left."

Bob gave a polite smile and shrugged his shoulders. "I wanted to learn more."

The smile she gave him matched his own. "Well, you're not gonna learn much here," she said. "Let me get changed and we can get dinner."

Bob didn't expect dinner to be in the Ferrari hospitality suite. He'd didn't exactly think he'd be going out to dinner with her, but he didn't expect this.

She sat Bob down at a table and got a selection of food for them to share. "I can't exactly go crazy," she'd said as she sat down opposite him, placing the single plate in between them. "I still have a car to drive later."

Bob grabbed something from the plate. "Why does that mean you can't go crazy?" He asked curiously, innocently.

Every question Bob had, she answered. He told her that his dad watched Nascar while he was going up but he couldn't get into it. Didn't have the time once he joined the navy.

She asked him all about that, just as curious as he was about her job. Bob knew she was meant to be this big celebrity, but she was normal with him, and he really appreciated it.

He hadn't known who she was going into this weekend, but he heard the way the fans screamed her name. She was so famous, and he was just a boy from Montana.

"Are you and your friends watching anything else of the Grand Prix weekend?" She asked as she ate a piece of lettuce (literally just holding a big piece of lettuce to her lips and crunching on it).

Bob shook his head as he looked down at the table in front of him. "'Friad not, ma'am," he said, looking at her over the top of his glasses. Bob didn't know what compelled him to do it, but he took them off.

"Aw," she said with a pout. "I liked them."

"Really?" Bob couldn't hide the surprise in his voice. "I used to have ones with slightly thicker frames, but these are military issued," he explained, putting them back on his face.

She grinned at him. "They're cute," she said, resting her cheek in her hand. It was undeniably flirty, and her grin was only making it worse. Well, that would have been if Bob could have allowed himself to believe that was flirting with him.

"I could get you tickets, if you'd like," she said. "You and your pilot friends. You can come back back to the Ferrari garage, support us for the rest of the weekend."

Bob gave her a gentle smile. "I'd like that," he said.

They continued chatting until she had to head back to the garage. Bob followed her, walking behind her.

She took him back to the garage, leaving him to stand with the rest of the Ferrari guests while she disappeared into her drivers room. Bob couldn't help but think of her as she got herself ready, getting dressed into her fireproofs and race suit. If Nat was here, he could ask her for advice.

Ten minutes before the start of FP2, she walked over to Bob. He'd seen her dressed down in a Ferrari hoodie and cute cargos, seen her in her race suit, and seen her in her fire proofs, race suit sitting low on her hips.

That was how she walked towards him. He'd seen so little of her, but this was his favourite (and he certainly wanted to see more). "Want to sit in the car?" She asked, hands on her hips.

***

The first thing she did after FP2 was give Bob her phone number. He couldn't quite believe it, and made a mental note to recount everything to Natasha as soon as he got back to the hotel.

"Have you got a way back to your hotel?" She asked, her helmet tucked beneath her arm.

"I, uh..." No, he and Natasha had gotten a cab together.

She waved him off before he could give her a proper answer. "I can drive you, if you'd like," she offered.

That was how Bob found himself sitting in an F1 drivers car, telling her about his childhood as she took him back to his hotel. He told her about his big family and the mountains he grew up around. He told her about when he joined the military, about his first time in Top Gun and his permanent stationing in Coronado.

Before very long they were pulling up outside of his hotel. "Well, here we are," he said, patting his legs. He didn't move to leave the car, but she didn't much mind.

"I really liked meeting you today, Bob," she said as she tapped the heel of her hand against the steering wheel.

"It was lovely to meet you, too," he said.

"Promise you'll text me?"

"Promise."

She held out her pinky finger and Bob wrapped his own around it, sealing the deal. He looked at her one last time and climbed out of the car, heading into the hotel.

Bob couldn't hide his smile as he walked through the lobby and into the elevator. Just days ago he'd hated the thought of a military flyover for the Las Vegas Grand Prix. Now, he couldn't wait to get back to the track, back to the Ferrari garage.

Nat noticed it the minute he walked through the door of the hotel room they were sharing. "Had a good time watching the rest of it?" She asked as she pushed away from the desk in the room.

Bob nodded as he pulled out his phone, clicking on her contact. But, the moment he was there, he didn't know what to say to her. "Nat," he called, looking up at her. "I need your help."

He only needed Nat's help to get the ball rolling. But soon, she and Bob were sending messages back and forth with just a second long gap between. Sometimes Bob took a little longer to reply, but only because Nat was reading the messages over his shoulder and assuring him that she was flirting.

Bob couldn't believe it. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't.

"I'll go with you tomorrow," Nat said as she climbed into her bed. It was incredibly late and Bob was hyper-aware that they were still texting. "Find out if she really is flirting with you."

"Nat..."

"Goodnight, Bob."

Natasha went to sleep, but Bob stayed up. She was still replying to his messages, and he couldn't bring himself to not respond. At least until she turned around and wished him goodnight.

When Bob woke up, she had already texted him. I don't have to be on track until later - wanna get food?

Who was Bob to say no? Natasha grinned as he got himself ready, including his glasses. (He had brought his contacts to Vegas because of how much he hated wearing his glasses. He didn't have time to put them in before they headed to the track the day before, but Nat didn't expect him to wear them now).

He walked out of the hotel, ignoring Hangman and Rooster as they called after him. They sat in the lobby, do doubt waiting for Natasha as they whistled at him.

Bob kept going. He saw her car before he walked out of the glass doors, and had to stop himself from breaking into a small jog. As he approached, she pushed open the passenger side door. "Hey, Robby!" She called, wearing a grin.

"Hey," Bob said, wearing a smile as he climbed into the passenger side.

As soon as he was buckled in, she began driving. "Have you ever been to Vegas before?" She asked as she headed towards the strip.

Bob shook his head. "No, ma'am," he said. It wasn't in the same way he'd said 'ma'am' before. No, those time he had been nervous saying it. This time, it was so fucking cute and she loved it. "I don't get enough leave for that."

"Why do you call me ma'am?" She asked, but she never wanted it to stop.

Bob couldn't stop his smile. "My momma raised me right."

That much she could tell. She parked the car and climbed out as Bob did the same. "Come on," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him along.

They went to a restaurant. Bob didn't catch the name of it as she pulled him through the doors. Even when sat gave the waiter her name, she was still holding his hand.

They sat down at a table for two. It felt far too intimate, almost like a date. She couldn't order a drink, but insisted that Bob did. He ordered one beer and made sure to make it last through their entire lunch.

She ordered a salad. Bob wanted to do the same, but she could see how conflicted he was. "Have whatever you want," she said, lowering her menu.

So, he did just that. Bob got himself a burger, the cheapest one on the menu (which was still incredibly expensive).

While they ate, Bob couldn't ignore the way her foot touched his knee beneath the table. He gulped as he reached for his beer.

While they waited, she told Bob about how she had grown up. Karting from a young age before moving onto single seaters.

The more she spoke, the more Bob could imagine getting into F1. Watching races, coming to see her in Vegas when he wasn't deployed. He just had to hope she still liked him enough to keep in contact with him.

They spent the entire afternoon together, until she was taking Bob to the track with her. Pictures of the two of them were taken as they walked through the paddock, too close to just be friends.

Once again, Bob stood in the garage while she completed the last practice session. She led, the fastest car until the Red Bulls were released onto the track.

But still, Bob couldn't stop watching the number 53 car. She came into the pits, had her tyres changed and went out a few minutes later.

Bob couldn't help but smile as he watched her climb the leaderboard. When practice ended, she didn't come in right away, doing a practice start with the other drivers.

When she got out of her car, she pulled off her helmet and balaclava, and spoke to her engineers. She had looked so happy when she climbed out of the car, but Bob watched as her face fell.

She walked over to him, unable to keep herself from sighing. The anger dropped from her face, replaced by sadness. "Wanna come sit in my drivers room?"

So, Bob followed her to her drivers room. She led him inside and shut the door behind him, letting out a breath as she leaned against it.

"Everything okay?" Asked Bob as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

She unzipped her overalls and let them fall to her hips. Bob shuffled over on the couch, giving her space. She sat beside him, shutting her eyes as she leaned back. "Because of the parts they'd had to replace in my car, I'm probably going to get a penalty later," she mumbled.

Her head fell onto his shoulder and Bob didn't move. He hesitated before wrapping his arm around her shoulder. That that, she shuffled slightly closer, which Bob didn't mind one bit.

Suddenly, she let out a weak laugh. "You're kinda making me want to stay in the states a little longer, Robby," she mumbled.

He looked down at her. "Would you? Seriously?" Bob could imagine it then, taking her to stay with him in San Diego, taking her to Montana to meet his mom at Christmas.

She shook her head. "I can't," she said and sighed through her nose. "There's one last race before the end of the season."

After that, Bob wanted to say. But he squeezed her shoulder instead.

When her trainer came in, Bob wished her good luck and headed back out to the garage. While he waited, he pulled out his phone and sent Natasha a text. She hadn't gone to the track with him, instead going with Bradley and Jake to the hangar they would be flying from.

If Nat showed Rooster and Hangman his texts, he'd never hear the end of it. But Bob realised he didn't mind. Let them talk, he was here with her.

The first round of the qualifying session was about to start. Bob sort of knew what to expect, she'd explained it to him while they sat in her drivers room, her head on his shoulder. He watched as she walked towards the car, her red, gold, black and white helmet on her head.

She climbed into the car and somebody strapped her in as somebody else spoke to her. She nodded at whatever they were saying and put her thumbs up.

Admittedly, Bob couldn't tell the difference between the practice sessions and the qualifying session. He watched as she went from having no time on the board to being the quickest car on track. But then she was knocked out of the top spot, down in eighth by the end of that session.

Bob had assumed that she was starting the race in eighth position after the eighteen minute long qualifying session. But then she and fourteen other drivers were going back out onto track.

Again she was at the top of the board, knocked out by the same driver. But she stayed in fourth, unable to get a quicker time in before the end of the session.

She went out for a third and final time. Bob heard her calling down the radio as somebody got in her way. But she put an impressive time on the board, finishing third.

It may have been obvious to everybody else in the garage, but Bob had to ask the girl standing next to him. She pushed her dark hair behind her ear and answered with a thick French accent. Bob thanked her and watched as the 53 car came into the garage.

She hopped out, did what she needed to do and came to find Bob.

It was near midnight and she couldn't quite believe he was still there, watching her. They'd spent the entire day together, and she'd loved every minute of it.

"Want me to drive you home?" She asked and Bob nodded his head.

She did just that, driving Bob back to his hotel. "They haven't confirmed if I've got a penalty or not," she said as she drove him. "So, for now I'm starting in P3." She quickly glanced at him and then looked back at the road. "Think you might be my good luck charm, Robby," she said and he blushed a deep shade of red.

She pulled up outside of the hotel, just as she had done the day before. And, like the day before, Bob was hesitant to climb out of the car.

As Bob reached for the handle of the door, she opened her mouth, ready to say something, and he stopped. But she closed her mouth. Still, Bob didn't move.

She sucked in a breath and tried again. This time, words came out. "Can I come up?"

Bob knew what that meant. How could he not? Some part of him had been wanting her to ask something like this for the last few hours. But still, he shook his head. "I, uh, I can't. I'm sharing my room with Nat."

"Oh," she said and looked down at the centre console between them. "Oh, shit. Are you and Nat- I didn't mean to overstep... I-"

Bob quickly shook his head. "No. No, Nat's my best friend, but only my best friend," he said. "But, her bed is a couple feet away from mine, so..."

She couldn't help but let a smile cross her face at that. "Can I kiss you, Robby?" She asked.

He leaned over the centre console. Her arms went around his neck, fingers playing with the short hair at the back of his neck.

Bob kissed her. He closed the gap between them, his arm awkwardly resting on her shoulders as his lips moved against her own. Her nose bumped the lens of his glasses, but neither of them minded.

If the expensive car left room for it, he would have moved her onto his lap. But he couldn't. He pulled away, staring at her as his eyes opened again. "Holy shit," he whispered and she grinned at him.

"I'll come and get you before the race," she said and Bob climbed out of the car.

***

He didn't wake up to a text from her. Immediately Bob's mind played tricks on him, telling him that, after they had kissed, she didn't want him.

He sat in the hotel for half of the day, in a perpetual state of anxiousness. Part of him didn't want to move until he heard from her, until he knew that everything was okay.

"You coming?" Nat asked him. He checked his phone one last time before following her out of the hotel room.

He didn't know what she was currently dealing with, that she had just found out about her grid place penalty. "This is such shit!" She cried as she and Charles walked through the paddock. She'd woken up to the news and hadn't had time to message Bob.

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now," Charles said, stopping to sign things for fans (signs, hats, and even a packet of oreos). "How are things going with the navy guy?"

She grinned as they kept walking through the paddock. "We kissed, Cha," she said, suddenly much happier.

"Kissed and..." Charles tried to push.

She shook her head. "Just kissed."

Charles nodded as they walked into the garage. "Just kissed, but you wanted more," he said. "Are you gonna see him before we leave?"

"Yeah," she answered. "I'm gonna go and pick him up before the race."

Through the evening, she and Charles did what they needed to do for the race. When she got a minute, she texted Bob, but she didn't have many opportunities to check her phone.

As soon as she had a chance, she ran out of the paddock. She held her phone to her ear as she went, making her way to her car. Bob picked up on the third ring. "Hey," she said, opening the door of her car. "I'm on my way."

Bob hesitated before he answered. "I'm not at the hotel right now."

"Do you still want to come to the race?" She asked quickly.

"Do you still want me there?"

She let out a laugh. "Of course I do, Robby. Give me the address and I'll pick you up."

That was just what happened. She picked Bob up and took him to the track. She promised the other aviators that she would get him there to watch the military flyover and drove off with him in the passenger seat.

"Have you ever been to San Diego?" Bob asked as she drove. It had been playing on his mind a lot since they kissed, his best case scenario (which was currently happening. He could have laughed at himself for being so worried).

She shook her head. "I haven't had a chance to explore outside of the places we have Grand Prix," she answered.

"So, you haven't been to Montana?"

"Nope."

Bob couldn't help but smile. He sucked in a breath, steadying himself. "I don't know when you're gonna have time off, but I could show you Montana, if you'd like."

She grinned at him as she parked the car. "I'd love that, Robby," she said and climbed out of the car.

She checked the time on her watch, grabbed her hand and began running. "I'm late!" She cried. Bob was only happy to run beside her, heading into the Ferrari garage. He slowed to a walk, but she kept going, running to her drivers room to pull on her fireproofs and overalls.

Bob watched it all. He watched as she stood for the national anthem with her fellow drivers, watched as she completed the formation lap from the back of the grid (something he had to ask about), and watched as she raced.

Bob couldn't help but be impressed as she fought her way across the track, racing past most of the grid. She overtook ten other cars, finishing in 5th.

When she climbed out of the car, Bob could see just how happy she was from her body language alone. She did what she had to do, spoke to the team and was interviewed, before she ran over to Bob and threw her arms around him.

"That was incredible!" He cried, smiling down at her. "I didn't realise racing was so exciting."

She grinned and kissed his cheek. "Think you'll watch next weeks race?"

"Definitely," he said.

He hadn't expected her to kiss him in front of all of the cameras. But Bob didn't mind. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close until she pulled away.

"I leave in the morning," she whispered in his ear. "Stay with me, in my hotel. One last night."

"Until Montana?" Bob asked, his forehead against her own.

"Until Montana."

a/n: ok i loved this and it may need a part two lol

#bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd x you #robert floyd #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader smut #robert bob floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd fluff #robert floyd smut #robert floyd x you #top gun #top gun bob #top gun maverick

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sv5hive · 2 months

Text

'cause when you know, you know | cl16

pairing(s): charles leclerc x fem!reader

content warning(s): mentions of drinking

word count: 708

note: i haven't posted anything in so long i hope you didn't forget me 🫣🫣

masterlist!

"this is who i was talking about! charles leclerc, you know, the racing driver i mentioned?"

reluctantly, he looked up from the drink in his hands to introduce himself to you. in all honesty, the first half of the season had been tougher on him than usual and he just wanted to be left alone.

that plan was derailed the moment his eyes landed on you.

as he took you in he failed to notice your outstretched hand, waiting for his.

idiot.

it wasn't his fault you looked like an angel in that white dress which seemed to hug your body perfectly, your skin glowing in the warm sunset and eyes twinkling much like the fairy lights illuminating the rooftop. it's almost as if a switch was flicked in him and all the fatigue left his body at the sight of you.

he was definitely in trouble.

"nice to meet you. i hope he hasn't told you too many stories about me." was all he was able to get out while still in a daze.

"nice to meet you too. don't worry, he's only told me the good ones!"

you even had the voice of an angel.

the conversation flowed easily with the steady stream of drinks from the bar. at some point near the beginning of your conversation, your mutual friend had abandoned you, leaving the both of you to lean against the wall in a secluded corner. neither of you minded though, as you spent hours learning almost everything about each other from your careers and families to your favourite dishes and childhood pets. somehow, you had managed to ignore everyone else at the party and stay by each others side in that corner the entire time. you looked around you only to find out you two were the last ones left up on the quiet roof. not that it mattered; you could've spent lifetimes talking to charles, shoulders pushed together, hands almost touching but jumping apart whenever they got too close, just talking about whatever came to mind.

the sun had long since dipped below the horizon and the moon was now glimmering in the waves. charles took the opportunity to admire you in his slightly drunken state before he lost the little confidence he had suddenly gained.

a cool breeze had come with nightfall and danced through your hair as you gazed at the sea through lidded eyes. the moon reflected on your face like a spotlight, magnifying your beauty to him. it felt like the universe was giving him a sign, screaming at him to not let you slip away. even if he wanted to ignore the universe, he couldn't. not when he had already felt himself falling the second he saw you and lost all common sense. a permanent, dopey smile rested on your mouth while you nursed the last remainders of your drink. whether you were smiling because of him or the several drinks you had he didn't know, but he certainly hoped it was the former (it was).

he had just met you a few hours ago but in that instant he knew this would be the story he would tell your all your friends and families over and over again until they could repeat it from memory. he could see it all so clearly.

they would ask how he knew you were the one and he would recount this exact moment, where you weren't even really paying him any attention and instead opting to stare out into the endless sea. they wouldn't understand but when they did and they wondered if they've found the one, he would be there to tell them that if you really have to ask yourself, then they aren't the one. because when you know, you know.

"what are you thinking about?" you had realised the silence had stretched on for much longer than what felt normal.

"hmm?"

despite charles drinking several glasses of liquid courage, he still couldn't form a proper sentence around you.

"i said, what are you thinking about? you look very, concentrated."

"nothing, don't worry."

"whatever you say."

he studied your features once more before shaking his head and smiling to himself.

"come on, it's late. let me walk you back."

#cl16 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16 x you #cl16 one shot

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matrixbearer2024 · 4 months

Text

Get Off My Screen!

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: I'm doing this cuz someone wanted to see my shitposty idea hahaha, I hope it's not too OOC but oh well- I hope someone could write a proper fic with this since I don't trust my writing much HAHAHAHA

A/N: I'll also be doing this from the reader's POV for now. Just message me or request if you wanna see Vox's POV since it might be too long if I include his thingy in this post XD

College life is fun, do doubt about that; from the parties to the friends you make- it truly was unforgettable.

Even if you did study a lot, wanting to get high marks- you had time to indulge every once in a while and goof off with friends.

It made you a star student on paper- but nearly bordering troublesome with your chaotic behavior.

You were lucky to never have been caught with their shenanigans.

But of course your friends just had to push it.

A new ghost hunting hype trend surfaced online and they were convinced that they had to get into it.

You said it was a bad idea, getting into stuff you didn't know.

Your friends brushed you off and all piled into the attic of your parents' home.

Of course, your parents were more than happy to explain some things before leaving your group to their devices.

They've been messing with the... "paranormal" for most of their lives.

You just chose not to believe it.

It wasn't like there was proof aside from heresay anyways.

Your friends proceed to mess with the ouija board they found, among other probably possessed things.

You found it all way too creepy to be honest.

Especially that old CRT TV that was just sitting in the corner.

It was an old thing you remembered using, but it always glitched and stuttered when you were a kid.

Even if there wasn't actually anything wrong with it according to the technicians that tried to fix it over the years.

Your friends started screaming before you could really reminisce.

"WHO'S MOVING IT?!"

"I'M NOT DOING ANYTHING-"

"IT'S MOVINNGGGGGGG-"

The fact the ouija board was actually reacting slightly freaked you out.

You managed to calm your friends from bombarding the thing with questions before asking what actually mattered.

"What's your name?"

V... O... X...

That didn't sound like a demon name you were even vaguely familiar with, at least off the top of your head.

Then of course that creepy TV from your childhood turned on by itself.

Your friends were screaming bloody murder at this point.

You didn't even realize the fuss until you saw the darn thing was unplugged.

You freaked out too, bolting down the attic stairs with your friends quickly in tow.

It was smooth sailing afterwards, your parents assuring you that nothing would happen.

Your friends stayed for dinner until they had to go.

You were about to retire for the night as well until you realized you couldn't find your phone.

Everywhere you looked, it wasn't there.

That left one place.

The attic.

By the time you gathered the courage to return, everything seemed just fine.

The TV was finally turned off, how and why- you didn't bother enough to know.

So you picked up your phone off the floor and just headed to your room.

Only to practically get jumpscared when you opened your phone.

WHO PUT A FRIGGIN WEIRD GLITCHY SMILEY ON YOUR WALLPAPER?!

Annoyed, you switched it back before plugging it into the charger.

Come morning, you had a bone to pick with your lot of friends.

Because not only was your phone stuck with the wallpaper problem, soon were all your devices.

You tried everything, restarting your stuff, running an antivirus, even getting it professionally checked.

Nothing.

And the problem continued to persist.

Now at your wits' end, you figured whatever entity was messing with your gadgets could at least converse with you through said gadgets.

So you opened a blank notepad on your laptop, nearly glaring at the screen while waiting for something to happen.

Five minutes passed and nothing happened.

"OH YOU CRAPPY PIECE OF TECH JUST DO SOMETHING!"

Even more waiting and still nothing.

Eventually you just decided to type something up on the notepad in impatience.

"I know you're in there. Stop messing with me."

And to your surprise, something finally replied.

"Oh I know, you're just fun to mess with doll."

What. The. Fuck.

And that was how you met him.

Vox, the tech overlord demon, months ago.

When he infected your phone, then consequently the rest of your electronics too.

Since then he's been an annoying thorn in your side.

Well... or even a welcome distraction.

Maaaaybe even an odd Omegle Buddy?

Who even still does those?

Either way, you never had to use spellcheck again whenever doing your work.

Nor did you consult Google as often either.

As rude and annoying as he was, Vox was quite helpful when it came to paperwork.

Not that you didn't know much about him, on some days you would both just chat using the notepad.

He hated some radio guy named "Alastor"?

You would laugh if you weren't so tired.

Depending on Vox's mood, he was either tolerable or a downright prick.

Fighting over control of the cursor was also pretty common occurrence.

Vox practically living in your gadgets forced you to learn at least basic software care and programming.

The guy also ended up sorting your files!

You'd be more thankful if he wasn't so bitchy about your file arrangement anyway.

It wasn't that bad.

You want to call him your virtual friend- but he's more like an annoying virus that throws hissy fits from time to time.

Even if said hissy fits were either excessive amounts of lag or mostly obstructive visual glitches and pop ups.

The little shit was also constantly messing with you during class.

Not that he cared enough even if you told him you were, he'd still be messing with your notes or even your files every now and then.

You stopped trying to change wallpapers after you realized he kept switching them back to his grinning face.

Let's not even mention his multitude of custom emojis stuck in your device.

How that got there, you didn't care enough to figure out.

What a weirdo.

Though him constantly interacting with your software gave you an idea.

You saw your friend fawning over a thing called a "desktop pet" just a little ago in class.

They chose to get a virtual slime.

It piqued your interest after you saw it was interactive too.

And knowing that Vox liked to mess with your operating systems a lot, you decided to try and get one to see what he'd do.

You got the basic one, just a random anime "chibi" or so it was labeled on the website.

It walked around and did some emotes before a notepad opened up with a message.

"What the fuck is that."

"My new desktop companion, do you like it?"

You didn't get a reply so you just left to grab a snack.

You weren't even surprised with what you came back to.

Vox was already using the cursor to bully the desktop pet you downloaded.

Either throwing it around or just repeatedly spam clicking it so it fell over.

The sonova bitch-

You kind of expected it, just leaving Vox to do his thing while you went to take a nap.

Only, you didn't realize you would be coming back to a new custom desktop pet and an open note.

"You're welcome~"

If that was what Vox looked like, you couldn't deny it was cute.

Or at least the small desktop pet made it seem so.

It was a striking design for sure-

Did he have a monitor for a head??

Oh that explains the face on your screen wallpapers.

You didn't realize until too late that Vox could interact with you using the desktop pet either.

Sometimes the things he did were cute with it, like the emotes that were installed on the thing.

Or he was just a little shit closing your windows or dragging them off screen before you could notice and stop him.

He was an annoying bastard-

But you kept him around anyways.

A/N: I really had fun writing this thing, it hasn't gone romantic since I didn't know if I wanted it to go that route so this is more of a friendly thing? Either way I might write Vox's POV sooner or later this was a really fun idea HAHAHAHA

A/N: Vox's POV is here!! :3

#vox x reader #vox x you #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox #x reader #Get Off My Screen Series

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kingconia · 10 months

Text

TWISTED WONDERLAND'S ROYAL BOYS WITH S/O, WHO IS THEIR SWORN PROTECTOR

Riddle Rosehearts. ❤️

— You are something between his protector, and, basically, a... Tutor? Governess? It is hard to tell, but his mother insisted on keeping him safe and controlled;

— You tried to do that, by the way. But it killed you to see him struggling, being stripped away from a proper childhood;

— From the other side, there wasn't much you could do. If his mother noticed some strangeness, she would find him a new guard, and you wasn't sure that they will be as kind as you;

— You secretly left him some chocolate and other tokens, writing him about how proud you are. He figured out that it was you, of course, but both of you never discussed it;

— You follow him to the NRC, and that is where you could finally act freely around him. Though, you still follow a strict rules—knowing how much Riddle values them—you still try to prove him that life is much more than that.

•

”Lady Y/n, I hope you understand that I could get you fired,” Riddle says, voice coming so small that it is hardly threatening. ”You are crossing lines.”

You smile, lowering your head instinctively, as you kneel in front of him.

”Of course.”

”You are disobedient,” he continues, his bottom lip trembling. ”It is against rules, and you know that. You should be punished according to them.”

”I understand. That will be done,” your eyes are meeting his. ”But for now, my majesty... Will you blow your candles?”

Riddle stares at the little cake that you made yourself, quietly and secretively, while he studied throughout the day, and lets out a very quiet sob. His eyes are watery, when he nods.

”And, please, don't forget about your wish.”

He nods again, still not trusting his voice. When he finishes, you are clapping at him proudly, rushing to serve him a cake.

I can have everything I want, but all I would ask, it is for you to stay by my side, Lady Y/n.

He never punishes you for that, in the end.

Kalim Al-Asim. 💛

— A sworn protector? Oh, please, he thinks you are his friend from the very beginning. And your attempts to explain to him that you are here for completely another thing, fail;

— You are really fond of him, but you feel like allowing him to see you as a friend is a direct threat to his safety, and therefore, you always deny him and his attempts to become friends;

— Kalim is really reckless, and sometimes naive. It gives you a heart attack all the time, and you can't help but be clued to him, just in case if anything happens;

— Kalim doesn't really take you seriously, though? Yes, he knows you are powerful, and you can fight and kill, but, eh, what else? You are sweet, and you are his friend anyway;

— Still, it hurts him when you so actively refuse to be called as one, insisting that you are a mere guard. Not because of himself. He just thinks it is sad that you consider yourself to be just a tool under the royal family.

•

You walk soundlessly, as you move behind Kalim, keeping the distance in ten steps, following the common royal code.

Neither of you speak, and Kalim seems to be not in the spirit. Which is rare and disturbing, but you assume it is something related to Jamil.

”Am I allowed to ask a question?” You dare to murmur, voice so quiet that it is barely heard.

”...Yes, Y/n,” he answers immediately.

Sometimes, you don't speak for days, mere being his shadow, nodding and shrugging if questions asked, trusting Kalim to understand. That is why your voice is always a music to his ears, a very awaited sound.

”Had something happened between you and Jamil, my prince?”

He stops, and you stop as well. Your brows furrowing, waiting for the answer.

”Why would you care, Y/n?” He wonders suddenly. ”Jamil is clearly not a threat to my well-being. If anything, he keeps me alive simply by cooking.”

You know that as well. Yet, you can't help but worry about his state.

”Because...” Your voice trails off, as you can't say a true reason behind your question. ”No, you are right, of course.”

Kalim ignores your last sentence, before finally turning to face you. His expression is thoughtful, with a slight curiousity on the bottom of his eyes.

”Could it be... That you care about me as a friend?”

You gulp, and he notices that. But you can't deny it. Lying to him wasn't something you could do, anyway.

”...It could.”

His face brightens.

You can't take it back now.

Malleus Draconia. 💚

— His grandmother chose the fairest, the strongest fae to the role of his sworn protector, of course. She loves him, she wants to make sure he is safe, all the time;

— Malleus was a quite likeable person, and you grow fond of him in an instant, promising yourself to keep him safe all the time;

— But who would've thought that it is not murder attempts that you will ought to protect him, but evil words of his peers?;

— Watching him being lonely, mistreated and misunderstood made you sick. More than anything in the world, you want Malleus to be happy and fit in the society, but it is a hard task, even for you;

— Unlike Kalim, he doesn't call you friend, but he really wants too. He is too shy, and fears that he mistook your responsibility as a guardian as kindness.

•

”Please, be careful, my prince,” you mutter, eyes fixated on Malleus's back as he works on making gargoyle, working with a stone and carved knife. “You put too much strength, and it can hurt you.”

Malleus sighs, but slows down as you asked him to. Your shoulders relax, and contained with his pace, you return to reading a book you brought with you.

”I am fae, lady Y/n,” he says. ”Just as you, I am quite immortal and very hard to hurt. You shouldn't be worried about little scratches.”

You are aware that Malleus will not die from a single cut. Yet, you are genuinely concerned about his state in every possible way, starting with physical well-being, and finishing with mental one.

”Perhaps,” you agree reluctantly. ”But, my prince, I care about you deeply. Not just as your sworn protector, but as a... Ah, how Lilia says that? A part of the family, right. You are a part of my family, my prince. It is only natural for me to— Oh! My prince!”

You can't even finish your sentence as the stone cracks in two pieces from careless, too nervous, hit from Malleus. You run to him, so worried, instantly taking his bleeding hand in your own, that can't notice the redness of his cheeks.

”Family...” He whispers.

”I told you to be careful!” You hiss, completely forgetting about subordination. “Ugh...”

Yet, he manages to give you a little smile.

Now, he knows more.

Leona Kingscholar. 🧡

— As a second to the throne, Leona might or might not be in danger all the time, and, of course, Farena found him a sworn protector eventually. In fact, he found a kid, to grow up around Leona as his guard;

— In the childhood, he always fought between an urge to send you away and humiliate, and to talk with you about his interests, because no one cared about him;

— But the fact that it is your job to be around him, made him to stop most of the time. He couldn't consider your interest in him as a sincere one;

— It didn't get better later. Quite opposite. When both of you became a part of NRC, he dismissed you completely, telling you that from now, his only servant is Ruggie;

— You felt betrayed. Not just because you was replaced, and it was your only job, but because you genuinely cared about him all these years, despite everything.

•

”Huh?” Leona glances at a fancy box on his table. ”Ruggie, whose gift is that?”

His birthday was a mess—in a good way—and he spent a lot of time on accepting gifts from his mates and other housewardens. But just as he thought that he finished, he finds another one! Ugh. Just his luck.

”Oh... It is from Y/n.”

Leona frowns.

You hardly speak nowadays, and though he misses you—it is hard not to, when both of you were together for decades—he will never admit that aloud. You stopped trying to contact him too, after he ignored you fully a three times. Which is fair, but, maybe, if you pushed harder, he would gave up...

”Why would she gift me something?” He mutters, hands coming to unwrap it.

It takes from him some time to understand what you got on his birthday.

A self-made chess set from the wood, where every single figure means something to him. But most importantly... The King one has his face on it.

His chest tightens instantly.

He misses you. He really does.

When the postcard falls out of the box, he loses it completely.

It is an old photo of both of you, still as a kids. It has you, smiling softly as you do Leona's little braids, who is settled between your legs, looking drowsy.

It makes him smile instinctively.

«To my king, and to my prince. But most importantly, to my first friend, and to the kid, who loved taking care of his mother's garden. Happy birthday, Leona Kingscholar. May you will be always happy.»

He presses a postcard to his chest.

Your birthday is in three weeks. And Leona knows what he is going to gift you this year. He only hopes you will accept him back.

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