wikiHow: how to rizz up your crush
pairings: hugo x gn! reader ft. his older sister, charles, loki
synopsis: hugo is certain, absolutely and resolutely, that you’re fated to be his. you, on the other hand, don’t share the same sentiments. his attempts to rizz you up, however, seem to convince you otherwise.
contents and warnings: hugo is whipped for you, again, comedy and chaos, fluff, hugo wants your creamy éclair bad and not the ones you find at the patisserie </3, hugo is just honestly a mess, performative hugo, slightly suggestive at the end, Hugo sibling dynamic, Charles and Loki and Hugo interaction, running gag that hugo's teammates think he has a gf besides that it’s gender-neutral, reader is lwk a tsun tsun but then also not...
word count: 4.5k
a/n: after many requests, part two of fictional crush is FINALLY out!!! i gen was so excited to write pathetic hugo bc what is the point of a man if he’s not pathetic, hehe, yesterday i had a dream that i sumbitted my essay 5 mins late and it still haunts me, ALSO SUPER HAPPY HUGO INFORMATION DROPPED OUT IN TIME FOR THIS AHAHHHH, apologies for all the typos… ill fix them when I get the chance, anyway, happy reading <3
main! masterlist
bllk! masterlist
"Marry me."
He shamelessly grabbed your hands over the counter and encased them in his much larger ones. Lashes fluttering with desperation, he pleaded for you to return his love.
"Uh…. WHAT?!"
You blinked, once, and then twice. Even a third time in bewilder as he remained eerily calm, not at all bothered with what had just come out of his mouth.
A deafening silence ensued right after his sudden marriage proposal, the welcomed peace helping you slowly process the warmth of his hands that held yours with ardent determination.
"Marry me, as in—" He tried to repeat his request only to be hurriedly shut down by your growing embarrassment.
"Yes." You interrupted him with a quick nod, only to backtrack immediately when he perked up excitedly at your misleading response. "No— I mean, yes as in I heard what you said, so no need to explain…"
"Ah." His shoulders sagged with the slightest bit of disappointment at the misinterpretation before looking back at you with an expectant gaze. "So then your answer is—?"
"Um— well," you floundered about with jitter under his pointed stare, still in a state of disbelief at his earlier question.
There was no way he said that, right?
You were just hearing things, weren't you?
How could a random man, extremely handsome to boot, with the prettiest and longest lashes you've ever seen, possibly be asking, or rather demanding, that you marry him?
Yeah, there was just no way—
"It's because I didn't go down on one knee when I proposed, right?"
His voice, smooth and adorned with soft charm, effectively snapped you out of your raging thoughts.
"Huh?" A noise of puzzlement left you in tandem at his strange question.
And it wasn't until you felt yourself be pulled forward, arm stretching uncomfortably towards him as your body bent awkwardly over the counter separating you both that you finally understood what he meant.
"Would you please," dropping down on one knee before you, he held your hand with pious gentleness and lifted his reverent gaze up to meets yours.
An aura of flowers and everything nice bloomed around him as he batted his unfairly long lashes at you — the sight resembling a shy maiden professing her undying love to her longtime crush.
"Would you please grant me the great honour of marrying you?"
"…."
"Please." He added sweetly, following his marriage proposal with a chaste kiss over your knuckles.
WHAT??????
Collective gasps of shock resounded from your growing audience, both amused and mortified at his abrupt display of love. You bristled with discomfort at the numerous stares pinning down on the two of you with unconcealed intrigue.
Shit, shit! SHIT!
"Did you see that?! He just proposed!" A woman turned to her friend with a hand clasped over her mouth to restrain her squeal of unbridled excitement.
"Eeeek! Oh my God!" The friend replied with equal amounts of enthusiam, pulling out her phone to record the romantic moment. "Need to take a picture of this!!"
"What a brazen young man! Haha!" An older man swiped the bottom of his nose with fatherly pride. "Balls made of steel, I tell ya!"
No— no! Please don't entertain this!!!
Your desperate wishes went cruelly ignored by the higher being responsible for this absolute nonsense.
"Well?" He tilted his head to side with the patience of a saint, the length of his pink-toned red hair falling softly from the movement.
"It's a no." You answered him through clenched teeth as your muscles twitched with embarrassment.
"Wait, what—" He blinked incredulously, taken aback by your abrupt refusal. "Is it because I don't have a ring— shit, I knew I should've brought one—"
"No!" You declined with fluster, unable to meet the crumbling expression you were sure he would be sporting at your rejection.
"But—"
"No..! Please, just— no…" You stumbled on your words, head hanging low with shame as your ears flushed with heat from the gathered crowd's disapproving looks.
The aura of flowers surrounding him dropped comically, only to be replaced with the suffocating air of his despair.
"But you and I are- we are—"
"Please leave." You muttered curtly, eyes scrunching shut with mild disgust as you continued to avoid his longing gaze.
"…."
And just like that, in an instance, the warmth encasing your hands were no longer there. In its place, the ghost of his touch lingered with a strange, melancholic buzz.
Well, that's that I guess…
Somehow, him backing off that quickly felt a little… anticlimactic?
No, this is what I wanted—!
"Eeep!"
Thoughts cut short, you yelped abruptly when something tugged hard at your arm, the noise of your surprise, shrill and full of fright.
Gaze flying on instinct to identify the suspect, your eyes widened with comical disbelief at the sight of your bangles snagging on the loose thread of his long sleeved sweater — the scene straight out of a Bollywood film!
Oh no—! Heaven forbid!
One look at this and any delusional person would think that this was something pulled out of a romcom! A sign of fate!
Fate's cruel mockery towards you if you had anything to say about it!
"Oh."
Shit.
You begrudgingly lifted your head to meet his equally surprised stare, buckets of sweat accumulating all over you as you mentally prepared yourself for whatever bullshit he was going to spout at you now.
"It's almost like…" his words trailed of dreamily as his eyes glowed with what you could only perceive as dim-witted delusion. "We are fated to—"
"Not another word." You spat distastefully, watching with mild relief as his posture drooped with sadness, the sight of him sulking unbelievably pitiful.
"Oh…"
Despite being freakishly tall and the definition of a giant, he became so small when his shoulders curled in on themselves at your cruel rejection.
It was almost… cute.
Pathetically so.
"Hugo?"
No response followed Charles' call, not a hum of acknowledgment nor a slight nudge of his head, absolutely nothing.
Charles carefully took in the pitiful disposition of his teammate: a hunched back, an expression that looked visibly constipated, and a stormy cloud that seemed to permanently follow him since he came into practice today.
It didn't take a complete genius to figure out what kind of dilemma the usually 'cool' and 'nonchalant' midfielder was going through.
Biting back a cheeky grin, Charles suavely took a seat next to sulking boy, the twinkle of mischief bright and ever glowing in his eyes as he tried to appear discreet.
"Did your girlfriend break up with you or something?"
It was just supposed to be a taunt.
A little joke to lighten up his dampened mood.
What Charles didn't account for, however, was Hugo's brusque honesty.
"Yeah… something like that."
Even when he mumbled those words, quiet and destitute of soul, Charles, along with every other player in the training room, could hear him loud and clear.
Their reaction was immediate, gasps of shock and whispers of condolences for both this mysterious girlfriend and Hugo alike resounding with fervour.
"What?! Hugo's chick broke up with him?!"
"The prettiest boy in all of France?!"
"Well… when you think about his extremely high standards, it's a surprise she didn't break up with sooner…"
"He must be heartbroken…."
"Well, clearly. Just look at the state of him…"
And if Hugo's pitiful behaviour wasn't jaw dropping enough, his next words, chocked with an uncharacteristic sob, broke them all.
"I proposed and got rejected…"
Everybody watched with horror, as tears of sorrow comically poured down the six foot one athlete's face following his admission to a failed confession.
"Oh my God! He's crying! He's actually crying! Someone film this for later!"
"Shit! He can be an asshole at times with his blunt nature, but it breaks my heart to see him cry like that!"
"Don't cry Vivian! There's more sea in the fish!"
"You dumbass! It's more fish in the sea!"
"Oh— is it?"
Amidst the hoots and hollers of the hoodlums around him, Loki, the only one mature despite his young age, approached the midfielder with a consoling smile.
The forward placed a comforting hand over his hunched shoulder and plopped down on the other, unoccupied seat beside Hugo.
"If it isn't fate, then you will both go your separate ways."
Then, with a firm pat to his back, not enough to hurt but enough to snap him back to his senses, Loki gave him words of his unparalleled wisdom.
"And if it is fate, then you will both come together again."
Hugo finally looked up to meet the steady gaze of his captain, comical tears welling up in his usually blank eyes as he took in Loki's air of brilliance. "J-Julian—!"
"Eugh— don't get your snot on me!"
"Heh heh heh! And I have just the thing to make you get her back!" Wrapping his arm around the broad-shouldered athlete, Charles added on with an impish grin.
Hugo's gaze dropped from Loki to the article opened on Charles' phone, the title read: 'wikiHow: Effective Expert-Backed Ways To Rizz Up Your Crush'.
With a phledgmy sniff, he cast Charles a glance that reeked of dubiety. "You really, sniff, you really think I can do this?"
"Well, of course!" Charles was quick to shoot down Hugo's worries, completely ignoring the doubtful look Loki threw at him. "And now, all that's left is courage!"
Hugo nearly cried a river at Charles's clever use of Cyborg 009's best line.
He decided, then and there, that letting their support go to waste was not an option.
"You're here… again."
"Uh— yeah."
Hugo bristled under your cold tone and icy glare, the courage he'd been building up for this exact moment fleeing at the mere sight of your sublime beauty.
Play it cool! Cool! Just like wikiHow said to!
Steeling his resolve once more, his fists clenched tight beside him, a gesture he became accustomed to at the thought of speaking with you — his long time crush.
"What do you want?" Brows furrowed, you cut to the chase.
"To— I mean, an éclair, the chocolate ones. Please." Hugo stumbled on his words, everything that he had mentally planned to say nowhere to be found in the turmoil of his mind.
You eyed him dubiously before backing down when he showed no signs of doing anything stupid again. "Sure…"
"Thank you…"
"Hm," you softened slightly, tense shoulders easing as your guard dropped following his rather docile approach. "Anything else?"
Apologise! Quick! Be normal and then ask for a second chance!
"Uh-! Truthfully, I came here to actually apologise!"
You blinked, momentarily taken aback by his sudden outburst.
For a moment, he was doing so well, acting normal and calm, but now, he wants to remind you of your past horrors?
"Ah, um—" You quickly shrunk under the pressure of his hopeful eyes, praying that no one would be paying attention to your strange interaction. "I have work right now, I can't—"
"I can wait." He urged with what looked to be a pout, his expression the perfect mirror of kicked puppy's. "I don't mind waiting… if- if you don't mind that is…"
"…."
Curse you and your inability to refuse that stupidly pathetic expression of his.
Stupid man and his stupid expression!
Despite your doubts, however, he really did wait for you to finish your shift.
What was once the early hours of the morning was now the late hours of the afternoon.
"So? You wanted to say something?" You pulled the chair across from him and promptly sat down whilst carefully pushing the plate of today's unsold éclairs closer towards him.
He visibly brightened at your kind gesture, the sight of his delight tugging at your heartstrings.
Damn it! Stupid man…
Muttering a grateful thanks, he turned to meet you head one, his gaze unbelievably earnest.
Keep eye contact, remain steady, and now, all that's left is courage!
"I want to apologise for that day— I was too forward and made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry, truly."
You watched him for a moment, the way he twiddled with his thumbs nervously and the way his head hung low with remorse. "Well, as long as you know that…"
"You forgive me?!" He nearly jumped out of his seat from excitement, the tuffs of his hair bouncing in tandem at your forgiveness.
"I suppose…" You immediately regretted your words as you watched a guileful glint form in his dark eyes.
"Then, if— if I may be so shameless, ahem, can we start over again? Please."
For goodness sake! How the hell were you supposed to remain stone cold when his eyes were glittering with so much hope?!
And that pathetic 'please' he just had to add right at the end?!
This stupid man knows what he's doing!
"Eugh— fine…" Begrudgingly, you huffed out your compliance as your ears tinged with heat.
"I'm Vivian Hugo, by the way." He introduced with buzzing enthusiasm, holding his hand out for you to shake.
"Y/n…" You stared at him for moment before accepting his outstretched hand.
"It's nice to meet you, Y/n."
"You too..."
"…."
"Um, are you going to let go?"
"Ah- yes!"
You regretted bringing it up seeing as how he immediately let go of your hand, the warmth of him fading away too quickly for your liking.
An awkward bout of silence ensued following your introductions.
"So," gathering courage, he stuffed a whole éclair into his mouth and blurted out his next thoughts. "What's ywor fwavourite fwood?"
"Uh… I don't have a favourite food in general, but I do like chocolate." You cringed as he spoke with a full mouth, not missing the way his gaze lingered on your hands.
Gulping down dramatically, he continued the conversation. "I like éclairs."
"I… I can see that."
Another bout of awkward silence followed his poor skills of conversing.
"So, Y/n." He started off again, tone trailing off with something that smelled of trouble.
"Hm?"
"What's your type in men?"
"…."
You stood up from the chair, any pity you had left for him now no longer existent. “Get out.”
"What—"
"Out."
"But— I want to adjust my character to match your type so that we can marry—!"
"Now."
"Okay…"
That specific tip from wikiHow did NOT work as planned.
Fuck.
But fortunately for Hugo and unfortunately for you, wikiHow didn't just have one piece of advice regarding the courtship of a crush, but multiple.
If asking you what your type was and becoming said type was out of the question, then it was time to spoil you with gifts.
Clothes, jewellery, hell, even books with actual writing. Hugo didn't know of the word stingy when it came to spending a fortune on you— his self-proclaimed soulmate.
The extra modelling gigs he picked up to fund your presents showed in the many billboards across the streets of France with his face plastered on.
For fuck's sake!
He even agreed to eat avocado for some promotional ad a famous restaurant had to offer him!
Avocado!
That awfully mushy and grass tasting fruit! The thing that felt like it's been eaten, swallowed and puked right back out!
But despite trying to woo you over with his financial assets, you remained unyielding, showing no signs of returning his feelings! If anything, you seemed even more cross with him!
So if monetary means had no affect on you, then surely a couple of sweet words would convince you otherwise, right?
Wrong.
He was wrong.
So wrong it now looked like you no longer wanted anything to do with him — not like you wanted anything to do with him to begin with, but still!
Apparently trying to serenade you with an off tune guitar, a red rose between his teeth whilst monotonously reciting ancient idioms — "your beauty makes the birds fall and the fish drown, hides the moon and shames the flower" — was not the way to go when trying to win over your crush's affection!
It was just— all so fucking hopeless!
So hopeless, that he was actively seeking out the advice of his big sister! The one person he would rather die then swallow his pride for and ask for help.
"What do you want now?" Her tone was disgruntled, sleep etched onto each syllable as she lay on her bed, drenched with fatigue.
"…." He didn't answer her straight away, instead, he chose to linger in her room whilst examining every little trinket she owned, a habit he didn't think he would ever grow out of.
"Vivi?"
"Hm," he finally turned to face her, expression schooled into one of apathy despite the countless worries raging inside of him.
"Ew, you're quiet for once." She muttered, rubbing the sleep off of her eyes as she continued scrolling on her phone. "It's creeping me out."
Give it to his big sister to immediately notice that there was something wrong with him.
And rather than responding to her insult with one of his own, he began flexing his muscles in front of the large mirror across the room before asking her a question that would most definitely send her over the edge.
"Are you still bitchless?"
"What." Her voice was sharp, edged with veiled threat.
"I asked if you're still—"
"You bastard!" Enraged, she wasted no time throwing a cheetah printed pillow in his direction.
Unfortunately for her, however, Hugo was an athlete with incredible reaction time. Evading an airborne object like that was a piece of cake.
"Pfft— missed."
"Ugh! A muscled meathead like you isn't a lady's man anyway!"
"What are you talking about?" He questioned her sarcastically, one arm going around her neck in a painless headlock as the other one went to scruff her reddish toned hair.
"A respectful man who is honest gets the lady's going! That's not— ugh," she tried to push him off of her, something that would've been easier when they were younger, only to huff with defeat when her efforts were in vein. "Get off of me!"
"I'm honest though."
"But you're not respectful!" She pinched the flesh of his arm and then pointed at him to prove her point. "Look at you! Disrespecting your big sister when I was the one who saved you from having to eat the avacados you wouldn't eat when you were younger."
"…." His grip around her weakened as he mulled over her words.
"Plus, you're such a pathetic guy. Simping over that fictional character, yuck."
A respectful man, was it…?
Hugo had inkling of what that could be, perhaps he should change his approach to wooing you altogether.
"Ah-! Vivian, close the door on your way— VIVIAN! I TOLD YOU TO CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR!"
Something… was wrong.
Something was terribly wrong.
You were convinced, with absolute certainty, that the current Vivian Hugo was a fake, a clone— a fucking skin walker!
Because out of simply nowhere, he changed.
Gone was the pathetically yearning Hugo who showered you in endless affection, the man who tried serenading you by reciting ancient idioms at seven in the fucking morning, the same man who kept the bakery afloat by buying the whole stock of éclairs!
That man— the man you once knew was no more, and now, was replaced with the persona of despicable nonchalance, a stupid tote bag, the bakery's horrible matcha, and that jarringly irritating book he never seemed to be able to put down!
Fuck, as much as you hated to admit it, you missed him— ardently so.
Putting on the best smile you had in you, pearly whites framed with soft lips, your gaze settled on him intensely.
"Do you want to try the new pistachio and dark chocolate filled éclair—?"
"No, I'd like the matcha."
"…."
Matcha? MATCHA???? Seriously?! The same matcha that was ranked the worst here out of all Parisian bakeries?!
What was wrong with him?!
You were butthurt, he never ordered anymore of the éclairs anymore! They were your speciality, something you took great pride in baking! And he was just refusing to have them so he could have the fucking matcha instead?!
"Are you sure you want to have the matcha?" You whispered whilst covering the side of your mouth, voice dropping an octave as you shared the bakery's hushed secret. "I really wouldn't recommend it, pretty sure that stuff is low-grade—"
"Yeah, I'm sure."
"…oh, um… okay."
Yeah, his newfound nonchalance towards you really fucking hurt.
"I'll be with you shortly…"
"Yeah, thanks."
Thanks? Thanks— THAT'S IT???
He used to say thank you whilst holding your hands and gazing up at you like you hung the stars high up in the sky! What the hell was up with these short and curt answers?!
Had you done something to hurt him? Was that why he was suddenly quiet around you?
If that was the case, then you ought to apologise to him!
Turning to face one of your colleagues, you clasped your hands together and gave her your best puppy eyes — hoping the pitiful sight would urge her to keep an eye out on the counter in your stead.
And just as you prayed, she returned the gesture with an encouraging smirk and a thumbs up.
How could she refuse if it meant getting back their generously loyal customer?
With a plate full of éclairs and a racing heart, you made your merry way over to the far table Hugo was sitting at.
"Vivian?" You called out softly, voice smooth and mellifluous. "Can I sit here?"
It took him a good while for him to respond, and when he did, curtly and dismissively, still not looking up from the book that had him rapt with attention, you resisted the urge to curse the living shit out of him out.
"…Sure."
"Thanks— thank you." You plopped down on the chair in front of him, heart hammering from your growing anxiety. "Here, by the way."
He looked up for a brief moment, eyes following the plate of éclairs you kindly decided to give him before they fell back on that stupid book.
"…Thanks."
"Of course…" Your words trailed off pitifully as you watched his attention return to the book of your nightmares.
One moment you were the centre of his attention, the sole being he focused on. And now, because you were too embarrassed to return his affection, you were fighting against a no-named book for first place in the category of his attention.
It was so pathetic.
"You've always got your nose buried in that book," you started off with a casual drawl, hoping he would take the hint and began his usual yapping of its content.
But contrary to your wishes, he played the fool and didn't bother expanding, choosing to fill his mouth with one of the éclairs, something that seemed to do it for you.
"Hmph." Huffing, you turned your head to avoid his gaze as your ears flushed with heat from his lack of interest. "Should've been buried between my legs instead…"
"…Huh, what—"
Now, he decides to finally look up.
"What." You cast him a sideway glance, chin resting on your palm as you guarded his frazzled appearance with a glare.
"Uh- um nothing…" He shook his head with a stammer, quickly returning back to that stupid fucking book again.
Just what the hell was he reading so intently?
"…You reading porn or what?" You sneered, expression contorting with disgust at the implication.
"No…" His response was hesitant and filled with suspiciousness.
"You totally are!" You argued with certainty in your tone as you pointed at him accusingly.
"I'm not, I swear—" Holding the book close to his chest, he tried to keep it out of your reach.
"Let me see then!" You leaned over the table, closing the distance between the two of you as you reached for the book.
"No, wait— Y/n, don't-"
Fuck, how was he supposed to keep the book away from you when you were so damn close to his proximity?!
"I got it! Huh—?" Your victory cheer was cut unfairly short when you opened the book, confusion growing tenfold as you began to peruse its contents. "What's this? An empty book?"
"…." Hugo's shoulders sagged with mortified defeat as you flicked through each page with puzzlement written all over your face.
"You've been reading an empty book this whole time?!"
"I- uh, yeah…"
"What— why?!"
Now, you were angry. Had you seriously been competing with nothing for his attention?
"Well— you, you make me nervous, and I—I uh, um… I can dialogue with myself and uh… organise my thoughts when I look at blank pages— I don't want to look like a fool in front of you, yeah…"
"…." You watched him twiddle his thumbs and fix his collar with disbelief.
Oh.
Oh.
So that's why he seemed to be constantly looking down at the book before responding to you. He was… a nervous wreck the whole time in your presence…!
The realisation sent a crawl of excitement down your spine, urging your gaze to trace his lovely expression: flushed pink cheeks, dilated eyes and fluttering lashes — all telling signs of his growing fluster.
You would be a fool to let this chance go to waste!
"Vivian," you called out tentatively, stretching each syllable with beguiled intent.
"Y-yeah?"
"You’ve got some chocolate here." Eyes curving with mischief, you gestured to the corner of his lips where some chocolate ganache remained.
Rubbing at the spot furiously, he turned to face you again for approval. "Is it gone—?"
You didn't answer him, instead, you took the initiative for the first time.
Using one hand to push back his hand that remained close to his mouth, you used your other hand to swipe away the residue chocolate.
Your thumb dragged across his bottom lip at an agonisingly slow pace, the touch sending heat across his ears and dying their pale colour a pretty pink.
Gaze fixed solely on him, you watched with enamour as his breath hitched from fluster.
"There. All gone, Vivian."
Falling back onto your seat with a huff, you brought your thumb over to your mouth, and without breaking eye contact, you licked away at the remaining ganache.
"…." His eyes could only widen at your lewd display of affection.
There was no way you just did that, right?
Did that mean that you were also into—
"What? I told you I liked chocolate, didn't I? Did you forget already—"
Hugo, for the life of him, couldn't hold it back anymore.
With absolutely no warning, he smashed his head right onto the plate before him. The untouched éclairs flattened under the force of his swinging head as the plate shattered with a sickening crack.
"Vivian?! Are you— oh my God- are you okay?!"
Fuck, and now you were all concerned for him. Did you seriously intend to short-circuit him with your worry?
Lifting his head up to meet your solicitous expression, he shakily pointed to the ganache smeared all over his face.
"Y-you missed a spot, Y/n…"
"Vivian!" You shrieked as your trembling hands cupped his face. "You're bleeding out your nose and your first thought is for me to— to, you stupid man!"
"Don't worry…" he sighed blissfully, leaning into the warmth of your hands, a sensation he'd desperately craved for. "I'm just… hah- really excited, papillon."
The blood dribbling down his nose wasn't the only place where hot blood was rushing south.
"You'll- you'll fix this issue for me, yeah? Please, pretty."
taglist: @shinoagriche @nerdjoenjoyer @ailouleem @allieluvsh @rainbowchili @levihanmyotp @akatuenk @si11ymotherfucker @maryberry2711 @vanillaadots @kimiiyoru @lllaw @owltrace @strwbrrynade @licl0ud @virtualprincessrosiana @minafrost @fleuritsum @aeonianangel @officiallylucky @ohio-gyatt-mega-sigma-rizzler @laeliaflores @angelnessss i think that's everyone who mentioned wanting a part two or showed enthusiasm for it...
also, this is just me rambling, but once during french lesson, @vampy11x (or someone else i cant remember) was asked by our teacher how to say 'i'm excited' in french and she said 'je suis excité' and our teacher lost it bc that's how u say ur horny in french 😂😂😂
and if you haven't read it yet, i say read mr. velcro man as part three for this
