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lovezbrownies · 18 days

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Lauren with a reader that acts similar to Julie?

Oomf... i feel like i cooked too hard in this.. not as silly as i usually do, i am also lowkey insecure with this one idk if its good or bad lesakjn ;;

Cold. (Yandere!Fem!Bully x GN!Reader)

Lauren's Masterlist - General Masterlist.

Synopsis: Lauren's mother never expressed emotion, yet she still loved Lauren. Would it be the same with you? Lauren's crush who is just as unfeeling and cold as her mother? Or maybe even worse.

Lauren McCanister x GN!Reader

Warnings: where do i start. Again, mean reader, kind of a manipulator lowkey. Lauren used to be a manipulator, she is now the manipulated.

Lauren McCanister had spent her entire life shaping herself into an intellectual force. She excelled at everything, from academics to manipulation, carefully constructing a facade of control. And yet, none of it prepared her for you. You were nothing like the others—aloof, cold, distant. Your reactions—or rather, lack of reactions—drove her to the brink of obsession. Every sharp word she threw at you slid off like raindrops on glass, and it enraged her as much as it intrigued her. How could someone like you remain so detached?

She had long since given up on eliciting anything from you verbally. Her jabs, insults, and teasing always fell flat. No matter how sharp or cruel her words, you never flinched. It only made her dig deeper, press harder, desperate for some kind of response—anything that would give her power over you. But you remained unmoved, expressionless, analyzing her words like they were data to be sorted and discarded. It was maddening.

It wasn’t until Lauren discovered a small, delightful chink in your armor that she felt a spark of triumph. When her teasing turned physical, she finally got what she wanted. The slight widening of your eyes, the furrowing of your brow, the minuscule flinch when she pinched your side or tugged your backpack—those were the moments that thrilled her. Watching you, the unflappable you, suddenly thrown off balance by a simple tickle or a light shove made her heart race in ways she couldn’t explain. The look of surprise that briefly crossed your face before you quickly masked it again was like a drug. She loved it. You hated it.

And that only made it worse. The more you recoiled from her touch, the more she sought to invade your space. It wasn’t enough to merely watch you work from afar or sit beside you in silence during class. Lauren needed to get under your skin. She needed to feel your presence bend to her will, to watch your carefully constructed walls crumble—if only for a second. But even then, after you’d jerk away or give her a startled look, you’d retreat right back into your composed bubble, as if nothing had happened.

For you, it was all so calculated. You were fully aware of her growing obsession and had long since factored it into your life. Lauren McCanister was a variable, one that you could predict with startling accuracy. Her teasing, her bullying, her constant presence—it all fit into a pattern you’d mapped out. You knew when she would approach, how she’d attempt to provoke you, and you knew how to dodge or deflect her efforts. But while you could avoid her words and resist her psychological games, her physical intrusions were more challenging. You’d caught onto her fixation, her fascination with your reactions when she touched you, and it irritated you—not because of the touch itself, but because it broke the flow of your usual, calculated responses.

The unpredictability of physical contact was something you hadn’t fully accounted for. It threw off your mental algorithms, disrupted your focus in ways that frustrated you more than you’d ever admit. But you didn’t show it. You remained the same cool, detached individual, offering her no more than the occasional blink or a calculated word, knowing full well that your lack of emotion was only feeding her obsession.

Lauren, for all her intelligence, had yet to recognize the full extent of your indifference. She misinterpreted your silence as another layer of mystery rather than the simple truth—you did not care. Not about her taunts, her presence, or her obsession. To you, Lauren was another factor in your pursuit of long-term goals, and in that equation, she was useful.

You observed her with cold detachment, analyzing the potential benefits of indulging her obsession. Her intelligence was undeniable, and her genetic lineage is impeccable. A relationship with her could yield favorable outcomes. The idea of manipulating her feelings for your own gain wasn’t off the table either. In fact, you had already begun to calculate the potential benefits of leveraging her obsession for your advantage.

For Lauren, however, the dynamic was far more chaotic. Every interaction with you left her heart pounding, her mind whirling in frustration and excitement. She couldn’t understand why she cared so much, why your calm, unfeeling demeanor pulled at something deep within her. It was like she wanted to break through your walls, not out of malice anymore, but out of a desperate need to see some emotion, to know you were human. The more she failed, the more her obsession grew. You had become a puzzle she couldn’t solve, and that terrified her as much as it thrilled her.

The moment she found out that you had invited her over for an experiment, her heart leaped in a way it never had before. It wasn’t about the science or the experiment itself—no, it was the idea of being in your space, of seeing a part of your life that wasn’t cold and distant like the walls you’d built around yourself. She spent hours planning what to wear, imagining how the evening might unfold, oscillating between fantasies of you opening up to her and the fear that you’d remain as unreadable as ever.

When the time came, and she arrived at your door, her nerves were on edge. She had rehearsed what she would say, how she would act, but all of it fell apart the moment you opened the door with your typical, expressionless gaze. Your monotone greeting sent a shiver down her spine, not because of any warmth or affection, but because of how cold and detached it was. You weren’t just cold—you were calculating, analyzing her every move even now.

“Hello, Lauren. Come in,” you said, your voice devoid of any inflection.

Lauren hesitated, her heart thudding in her chest. She stepped inside, expecting your home to reflect the same cold, sterile environment that you embodied. But instead, the warmth of the decor took her by surprise. The soft lighting, the earthy tones, the subtle scent of lavender—it was all so inviting, so… unexpected.

“You… live here?” she asked, her voice barely concealing the disbelief.

You nodded, walking ahead without turning back to face her. “Yes. I purchased it 3 years ago. A logical decision. My parents' residence did not accommodate the necessary space for my research.”

Lauren’s eyes widened, taking in the realization that you, of all people, had bought a house—at fifteen, no less. It was a shock that rippled through her carefully constructed image of you. She had always known you were brilliant, but this? This was something else entirely.

“And… the decorations?” she asked, still grappling with the contrast between you and your surroundings.

You shrugged, as if it were the most mundane detail in the world. “Warm environments stimulate brain activity. They improve efficiency and productivity.”

That response sent a jolt through Lauren. It was so you—so perfectly logical, so devoid of any personal attachment to the concept of “home.” But to her, it felt like a glimpse behind the curtain, a small window into the way you functioned. It should have made her feel closer to you, but instead, it left her feeling even more out of place. For all her brilliance, for all her attempts to get under your skin, you were always five steps ahead, unbothered by her presence.

You turned to face her, finally acknowledging her with your cold, calculating stare. “Lauren, I invited you here for two reasons,” you began, your voice steady, precise. “The experiment, of course. But also because I am aware of your feelings for me.”

Lauren froze, her entire body tensing as her heart skipped a beat. “What? What do you mean?” Her mind raced, panic bubbling up in her chest. How could you know? How much did you know? Had you seen through her all along?

You took a step closer, your gaze unwavering. “Your obsession has been noted. I’ve analyzed it thoroughly. I have concluded that engaging in a romantic relationship with you will be beneficial.”

Her heart pounded in her ears, the blood rushing to her face as your cold words hit her like a slap. “Beneficial?” she echoed, her voice shaking, a mix of hope and disbelief filling her chest.

You nodded, your tone flat. “Yes. Our combined intellect will produce offspring with a high probability of exceptional intelligence. The genetic benefits are clear.”

Lauren’s breath hitched, her entire body frozen in place as your words washed over her. Was this really happening? You weren’t rejecting her, but… this wasn’t what she had imagined. There was no warmth, no affection, just cold, hard logic. And yet, despite the lack of emotion, her heart swelled with a strange mix of joy and confusion.

You stepped closer again, this time reaching out to her with the same precision you used in everything else. “As per societal norms, I will now engage in a romantic gesture.”

Before she could respond, you leaned in, pressing a brief, mechanical kiss to her cheek. The gesture was clinical, devoid of passion or warmth, and yet, it set her skin on fire. Lauren’s breath caught in her throat, her cheeks burning as she stared at you, wide-eyed and speechless.

You pulled back, your expression unchanged. “This marks the beginning of our relationship.”

Lauren could barely breathe, her mind spinning. You—emotionless you—had just kissed her. But it wasn’t the kiss she had always imagined. It was methodical, planned, like everything else you did. And yet, it meant everything to her.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, her voice shaky, her confidence shattered.

“There is no need for further emotional response,” you replied, stepping back with your usual detachment. “This relationship will serve its purpose. That is all that matters.”

Lauren stared at you, her heart torn between elation and a deep, gnawing sadness. You had given her what she wanted—or at least, what she thought she wanted. But now that she had it, she realized that it wasn’t enough. Not like this. You were still untouchable, unreachable, wrapped in your cold logic. And even though she had won, it felt like a hollow victory.

But she wouldn’t let that stop her. If this was what it took to be with you, then she would take it. She would take whatever pieces of you she could get, even if they were cold and calculating. Because at the end of the day, Lauren McCanister wasn’t just obsessed with breaking down your walls—she was obsessed with you.

You turned away from her, heading toward the table where a complex array of scientific equipment lay waiting, a soft hum of electronics filling the air. “As for the other reason I invited you here tonight,” you said, your voice as flat and methodical as ever. “I require your assistance with an experiment. Your expertise in certain areas will improve the likelihood of success.”

Lauren blinked, her heart still pounding, but the abrupt shift in conversation caught her off guard. Of course, to you, this wasn’t a night of emotional revelations—it was a continuation of your work, and she was merely a useful tool in your grand design. It stung, but she quickly pushed that feeling aside. You needed her. That was enough for now.

Stepping closer to the table, she looked over the experiment you had prepared, her eyes scanning the intricate setup. It was a daunting task—calculations, measurements, and variables that all needed to be meticulously balanced. One wrong move, and the entire thing could fail. And the thought of disappointing you, of failing to live up to your expectations, made her palms sweat.

“I assume you’ve read the documentation I sent you,” you continued, your eyes never leaving the equipment, even when you weren’t looking at her you made her heart skip a beat. “Your role is crucial to this experiment. A miscalculation on your part could result in catastrophic failure.”

Her throat tightened at your words, and her fingers twitched nervously as she glanced down at the tools she would be using. Catastrophic failure. Those words echoed in her mind, amplifying her already racing thoughts. She had always excelled under pressure, but this was different. This was you. She couldn’t afford to make a mistake. Not here. Not now.

“Yes, of course,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady, even though her nerves were fraying at the edges. “I’ve studied it all. I know what to do. I think I also did this with my mom when I was younger.”

But in truth, her confidence was wavering. She had spent hours poring over the documentation you had sent her, but the reality of being here, in the moment, with you watching her so closely, made her doubt every decision. What if she missed something? What if she miscalculated? What if—?

“Excellent. Then begin,” you said, handing her a delicate instrument, your gaze focused and emotionless. “I will monitor the variables.”

Lauren swallowed hard and took the instrument from your hand, her fingers trembling slightly. She forced herself to focus, to push aside the swirling storm of doubt in her mind. This was her moment to prove herself to you, to show you that she could be more than just a pawn in your grand plan. She could be an equal, someone worthy of your attention—your admiration. But what if she were to disappoint you? Would you forgive her? Would you comfort her? Lauren could only wish.

As she began the delicate process of measuring and calibrating, she felt your presence beside her, your eyes watching her every move. The weight of your scrutiny only heightened her anxiety, but she forced herself to keep going, her breath coming in shallow, nervous bursts. She had to do this. She couldn’t fail. Not with you standing so close, your cold, calculating gaze bearing down on her like a spotlight.

The minutes stretched on, each one more tense than the last as Lauren carefully navigated the intricate steps of the experiment. Her hands shook slightly, and she cursed herself internally for every small tremor. She couldn’t afford any mistakes. Her entire body was wound tight with nerves, her heart racing as she made each delicate adjustment.

But then, just as she reached the final step, disaster almost struck. Her hand slipped, the instrument wobbling precariously in her grip. A small gasp escaped her lips as panic surged through her chest. She could already imagine the failure, the disappointment in your eyes, the cold dismissal that would surely follow.

But before she could spiral further, she steadied herself, forcing her hands to stop trembling. Focus, Lauren. Focus. She breathed deeply, centering herself, and carefully, painstakingly, she corrected the error. With a final, precise movement, she completed the task, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest.

“There,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the equipment. “It’s done.”

You approached the experiment, your eyes scanning the results with your usual calm detachment. You checked the readings, ran a quick calculation, and then nodded in approval. “Adequate,” you said, your voice as cold and neutral as ever. “You have performed as expected. The experiment is a success.”

Lauren felt the tension in her chest release all at once, a wave of relief crashing over her. She had done it. She hadn’t failed you. She had proven herself. I’m so awesome and sexy, they have to love me soon. But before she could fully process the moment, you stepped closer, your gaze steady and unreadable.

“Good work,” you said, and before she could react, you leaned in and pressed a quick peck on her lips—a gesture of reward, as emotionless and calculated as everything else you did.

For a split second, Lauren’s world stopped. The brief contact of your lips on hers sent a jolt of electricity through her entire body. Her heart skipped a beat, her mind went blank, and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe. It wasn’t the passionate, romantic kiss she had dreamed of, but it didn’t matter. You had kissed her. You had touched her. And that alone was enough to send her mind spiraling into chaos.

But as quickly as the moment came, it was over. You pulled back, your expression unchanged, your gaze still cold and detached, as though the kiss had meant nothing to you. And for you, it probably hadn’t. It was merely a gesture, a small acknowledgment of her success. Nothing more.

Lauren stood there, staring at you in stunned silence, her lips still tingling from the contact, her heart racing in her chest. Inside, she was a whirlwind of emotions—elation, confusion, hope, fear. She wanted to scream, to cry, to laugh, all at once. But outwardly, she forced herself to remain composed, to mirror your calm. She couldn’t let you see how deeply that simple kiss had affected her.

You turned back to the equipment, already moving on to the next phase of your work, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “Prepare the next sequence,” you said, your voice as steady and emotionless as ever.

Lauren blinked, trying to regain her composure, her mind still reeling. She had to remind herself to breathe, to focus. You were already moving forward, and she needed to keep up. But as she turned to follow your instructions, her thoughts kept drifting back to that brief kiss—the first and only sign of affection you had ever given her.

Her heart pounded in her chest, the thrill of the moment lingering long after you had already dismissed it. For you, it had been nothing more than a calculated reward, a logical action in response to her performance. But for her, it was everything. That tiny, fleeting moment of contact had sent her spiraling, her mind spinning with thoughts of what it could mean, what it could lead to.

She knew, deep down, that you didn’t feel the same way she did. You never would. But she couldn’t help but hope—hope that, maybe one day, you might see her as more than just a useful tool, more than just a variable in your equation. Maybe one day, you might feel something, anything, for her.

But for now, she would take what she could get.

#yandere x reader #oc x reader #gn reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere #gender neutral #tw yandere #x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #Lauren McCanister #Love yapped on this one sorry guys :(

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sophistired18 · 1 month

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Timeskip Kryk!!

I like to envision different scenarios on how timeskip kryk's relationship would go based on whether they were in an established relationship before yaku went abroad or if they were stuck at the pining stage, but for now I'm going to just ramble some established relationship hc's bc otherwise the list would go on forever! I hope you all enjoy!!

They definitely had it rough at first bc of the distance and time differences. They both agreed it'd be difficult, but they knew they could make it work. However, it was so much harder than either of them expected.

It was getting unbearable for kuroo, as it felt like a piece of a puzzle was missing from his everyday routine. He still hung out with his old teammates when he could, and he and Kai went to the same university, but they both knew it wasn't the same without yaku.

As for yaku, there were so many times he wanted to keel over and impulsively fly back to japan. He missed home so bad, and kuroo was home. Also the learning curve on speaking a new language and the culture shock in a foreign country was extremely rough. He stuck through it through pure perseverance. Yaku never thought he could doubt his own abilities, but being so isolated from everything he's ever known made him feel smaller than he's ever felt before.

It took a break down and a late midnight call (a morning one for kuroo) for yaku to be reassured that he's here because he's meant to be here and he earned it. From this point the two of them begin to really put in the effort to make sure they check up on each other and call more regularly (instead of trying to ignore how bad they miss each other)

They always call to say goodnight/good morning and just talk about their overall day

The day before Kuroo's college graduation, Yaku secretly flew down and surprised him on grad day. Kuroo just froze up bc he hasn't seen his bf in person in 4 years so he must be hallucinating. It took him a minute to realize he's not schizophrenic and then jump into his smaller (buffer???) Bf's arms. (He also cried alot, which yaku always teases him about to their friends)

The next time they see each other in person is a few months later when kuroo flies up to russia for a weekend to celebrate Yaku's belated birthday. At this point Yaku is practically fluent in russian and kuroo is astounded by how much Yaku's acclimated to his surroundings (it has been 5 years, but its still shocking nonetheless). They eat at one of Yaku's fav restaurants for lunch, which was amusing to Yaku since for the first time Kuroo didn't argue about the menu and took his recommendations bc he was so out of his element.

Later after exploring Moscow together, they decide not eat out for dinner and instead get groceries from an oriental market that yaku frequents often. Kuroo makes him some homemade tonkotsu ramen and yaku starts bawling his eyes out. They celebrate the first birthday Yaku's had with a loved one in 5 years

The next time they see each other, its for Kuroo's older sister's wedding. The whole night, Kuroo held Yaku's hand under the table and silently thumbed his ring finger. No words were spoken about the gesture when they got back to their hotel room, but they didn't need any to know what they wanted.

Yaku's finally back in japan for the 2020 Olympics and this time he decides to stay for a while. He moves in with Kuroo at his apartment and they act like a practically married couple (although they already acted like that before). They do a ton of wholesome domestic stuff that comes easier then you'd think for a couple that hasn't physically been with each other in years.

Now that they live together after all these years, the crave for physical affection is undeniably overwhelming for the both of them. They somehow always need to be touching, whether its watching a show on the couch with their legs intertwined, helping each other button up their shirts and get ready in the morning, or having their bodies bump each other lightly as they wash the dishes together.

Sometimes Kuroo spends late nights working on his laptop and Yaku always tries to remain on a strict schedule so he goes to bed earlier. But after some point he starts missing Kuroo sleeping in bed with him, so one night he asks Kuroo, "Hey Tetsu, you can work anywhere, right?" and Kuroo confused, simply says "Yes... I suppose?" So Yaku drags Kuroo to their bedroom, with Kuroo still holding his laptop and plops Kuroo onto the bed. "Okay, here's your new office" Yaku yawns and then climbs into bed and snuggles against Kuroo's side. Kuroo just sits there in awe for a bit until he sees that yaku actually fell asleep. He continues working with his laptop on his lap, his hand occasionally brushing through Yaku's hair. Eventually he has to get up to put his laptop away and change out of his suit that he's still currently wearing. But now this "office" has becomes a regular routine whenever Kuroo has to work late nights at home. (He makes sure to get ready for bed beforehand as well so that he can go straight to sleep after finishing work)

Kai always pokes at Kuroo and asks when he's gonna propose. Kenma tells him to hurry up and get on with it before another foreign pro team whisks Yaku away

Yaku used to be more reluctant to show affection or make the first move during highschool, but now he's almost always the one to initiate. It's not even that Kuroo is the one who's shy, its just that Yaku always seems to beat him to it.

Its their 10 year anniversary of their relationship (spanning from 3rd yr of hs to post Olympics) and they're spending it at a beach in okinawa (since the last anniversary they spent in the mountains per Yaku's request). It only takes a decade, but Kuroo finally takes his chance to propose as the sunset lies against the ocean waves. However, like most things, Yaku beats him to it and somehow Yaku is the one down on one knee with a ring (and here Kuroo is standing like an idiot still fumbling to grab the damn box out of his pocket). The trip ended with both of them wearing contrasting rings and a proposal story that ends up being another embarrassing one that Yaku always shares with their friends.

After playing a few seasons of pro league in japan, Yaku gets a call and an email from a recruiter in Poland for the team, orzeł warszawa. After discussing it for a while, they come to a decision and Kuroo wishes his husband a safe trip as he watches him wave farewell and enter the airport

#kuroyaku #kryk #yaku morisuke #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu #hq timeskip #hq #headcanon #hc #fluff #angst sorta??#sorry yall this is a long one #hq spoilers #if you guys allow me to then i will yap forever abt them #ignore the fact that this is practically a fic and not just hcs #i love them

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