#half of these were doodles for friends hi friends

[mxmarsbars]

some colorful doodles before I go to sleep >_<

[doctorsiren]

Can you draw Telemachus and Athena?

I got two asks for this, so I’m doing one of them as animals for the silly

[fingertipsmp3]

I do think the fact that my first ever crush was on an obviously gay ballet dancer predicted a lot about my future I’m not gonna lie

[ataraxiaspainting]

360-Degree Vision.

Yan Silas x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, non-con, oral (male receiving), forced infantilization, Silas calls himself Mommy because he's a weirdo, and "force feeding".

Word Count: 700.

OC and art pictured above belongs to amazingly talented @meo-eiru!! i really love her art, so be sure to check her out!! <333

*~*~*~*

Silas only allows autumn leaves and snow to fall where your feet don’t touch but your eyes can still see.

It’s an odd sort of shape, the barrier he has around his tree. It reminds him of those little sketches you do he puts by his bedside table. He read from a book that human mothers do that whenever their children give them drawings, though you never gave yours to him per se. More likely than not you were waiting for a more special occasion, but he found them in your toy box whilst he was tidying up from another long day of taking care of you. 

What a unique art style you have – he read in the same book that human children’s little doodles can be nearly unrecognizable from what they are supposed to be most of the time, so he doesn’t question how the circles you drew kept going around and around and leading to nowhere.

A snail’s shell, perhaps? 

The spirals seemed too large and too filled… 

He’ll give you points for creativity. 

Positive reinforcement was key with these kinds of things, or so he’s been told – if you ever ask for a pet snail, he’ll get one for you in little to no time at all.

*~*~*~*

“Baby,” Silas’ smile is smaller because of the concern he has for you right now. “You have to finish your dinner. It’s good for you. When you finish we can go see little mushrooms and squirrels, okay? Only for a little bit though,” His right hand is still above your head, squishing you down when your body seems to want to get up too soon. “Mommy doesn’t want you to get sick again…”

Despite Silas sitting down, he was still more than half your height – your knees sink further into the mattress both of you are on.

They are shivering so much but he doesn’t notice.

No, it’s not that he doesn’t care – he’s too busy flaunting his length and chest to you to pay attention to how you actually feel, wanting you to pick your poison once again; seeing this as necessary to your development.

Last time for yesterday’s meals you chose his cock – the day before that you chose his breasts.

The more you suck from him, the more you’re given treats after. Something resembling those colorful markers you used to get at the local dollar store, containers of blueberry yogurt you hope came from his village’s cows or some similar type of animal, a new dress he had sewn himself or had customized and bought from a nearby elf tailor.

“I’ll even bring some paper and those pencils you like drawing with, hm?” Silas continues as he scoots closer to you – he holds your hair so gently now, but whenever he cries tears of pure happiness the grip will tighten quickly. “Maybe you can see a snail up close for those little spirals you like doing.”

…

No matter how much you rebel and kick and scream, the elf wouldn’t move back from you – if anything it gives him more of a reason to come closer, so you can have more of his ‘love’. After only a little bit of time, you learned how to let the frustration out in a way that didn’t have Silas doting over you so suffocatingly – drawing spirals. You were told once by a friend they can be therapeutic in times of stress. You most likely will never see her again but you would want to hug her because it works. 

You hid them amongst the dolls and building blocks you were given in times you were alone – staring at them made you feel less lonely, made you feel like you had more of a choice in how you spent your waking hours.

You didn’t expect Silas to find them. He never checks your toy box because you tidy it up so often.

You don’t know how to explain your drawings in a way Silas will understand. Not that he understands a lot of things that come out of your mouth.

You just nod. Maybe drawing a snail’s body below those spirals can help you too.

“Good girl! Listening so well!” His smile widens and you can see his eyes getting watery already.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, stalking

♡ gn reader

There’s something very off about your roommate… something eerie that makes you keep your distance.

You can’t describe exactly what it was about the boy except that you felt it from the second you shook his hand. The way he introduced himself… you don’t know… you had this unshakable feeling as though he already knew you from somewhere.

It’s a weird thought to have of someone you’d only just met. You knew you were probably just being paranoid. It was your first time sharing your space with someone other than family, so it might very well just have been you being apprehensive.

Not that you’d ever let it show, though. You didn’t want things between the two of you to be awkward when you’d be living together for the next three years of getting your degree.

You just needed to get used to him, is what you told yourself. 

So you laughed at his jokes and listened to his brags with a polite smile as though nothing was wrong, even when he continued being strange. 

For starters, he had almost nothing to unpack – as though he only planned to stay about a month or two. Everything seemed newly bought as well – unused and sterile, like a movie set.

You don’t know… maybe he was a minimalist even though he didn’t seem the type.

It shouldn't really have made your skin crawl the way it did. But whether it made sense or not, you couldn’t shake the discomfort – walking around in a constant wariness of him. 

Everything about him seemed like a half-assed theatre act.

You’d see him in the lecture hall, walking from here to there, buying strawberry milk from the vending machines. His textbooks remained piled on his desk in your shared dorm room – but you’d never seen any one of them open. And when curiosity and suspicion made you flip up one of his notebooks, you found it was all blank except for a few shitty doodles on the first page. You never see him cram for exams or writing any papers. You don’t think you’ve ever even seen him pull a laptop out of his bag.

It’s like he isn't a student at all…

And something about the rest of his performance just rubs you the wrong way.

It’s as though he’s practiced all his facial expressions in the mirror – as though he’s studied social cues and body language in a human behavior manual instead of having learned them naturally. It makes you uneasy – how his smile is always a bit too wide and a bit too stiff to be genuine and how all his words are like dialogue off a script.

Somehow, it feels as though he’s wearing a second skin – hiding something… something that’s not quite right on the inside.

It grosses you out when he tries flirting with you. But you do your best to hide it. Brushing him off by changing the topic, inviting other friends when he asks to eat lunch together, laughing off his attempts as though he’s making jokes – always excusing yourself when you end up alone with him for too long. 

You try to avoid him as much as you can. Pretending to study when you’re in the dorm together – and otherwise going to bed early.

He tells you he’ll see you at the party later when you leave to pregame with some friends. You can only muster a smile and a curt “Sure.” before leaving. 

As for seeing each other later – you hope you don’t.

But of course you do. You can’t seem to escape him. Everywhere you go, he follows.

It doesn’t help that all your friends think he’s so hot, immediately calling him over, gushing over him as though he’s some type of celebrity. They don’t understand your reservation – if they were you, they’d have fucked him the first night of moving in together.

It’s not like you don’t find him attractive as well. You admit he is ridiculously handsome, and if the circumstances were different, you’d say you lucked out being assigned the same dorm room as him. 

But as it were – he gives you the same feeling as spotting a spider.

He’s got his arm slung around your shoulder as the two of you walk back together. 

He had a little bit too much to drink… And despite your thoughts about him, even you didn’t have the heart to say no when he was practically hanging off of you – cheeks dusted pink with his mothlike lashes droopy, drunkenly mumbling while blinking up at you with those awfully bright eyes, asking you to take him home and tuck him in.

“Ugh...” You sigh.

It’s a struggle carrying the nearly two-meter-tall boy, almost having to drag him down the hallway before stopping short at your door. He’s drooling on your shoulder with murmurs of sleep as you search for the key – not exactly sober yourself.

When inside, his bigger body presses you against the closed door – his face buried in the grove of your neck with slurred words.

“Dude.” You state with a grimace – as if saying his name was too much of a burden – sighing as you haul him off with the same exasperation of a parent putting an unruly child to bed. 

Ducking beneath his arm, you leave him kissing the door – thinking to yourself how you really should put him to bed before he can embarrass himself any further.

You open your mouth to tell him when his temper finally makes him grab your arm a little harder than intended. 

“This isn't how this is supposed to go.” 

You flinch instinctively, and his grip tightens in return. “Hey?”

You can’t see his face with the way he’s got his head bowed. But you don’t like the snuff growl that passes under his breath as he utters the next words.

“Why are you so difficult?”

You do more than flinch this time, yanking yourself out of his harsh grip before he can apologize for it – taking on a deliberate offensive stance. 

With your feet squared and your hands up to keep him at a distance, you look ready to try fending him off.

Something about it seems premeditated – something in the wary way you eye him. You don’t even look all that surprised – as if you had suspected this side of him existed all along and had only been waiting for it to surface.

Oddly, t feels like something you’ve kept secret from him – as though you’ve acted comfortable all this time when, in reality, you’ve been clutching your mental pearls.

He realizes then why you haven’t returned his affection – why all you’ve ever given him is cold-hearted rejection…

Of course. It’s obvious now – so obvious it’s funny. Even though he’s been the one parading around like someone else, it feels as though you’ve been doing the exact same thing around him – hiding your discomfort behind a sweet smile – hiding it so well that not even his keen eyes have picked up on it…

But it’s clear now….

You’ve both been playing a game of pretend – just a pair of perfect strangers – who've now shared their hand. Leaving you both feeling naked – raw out in the cold – just waiting for the next move.

“I guess the gig is up, huh?” He rasps, fingers twitching at his sides – looking ready to pounce.

You couldn’t defend why you'd kept the pepper spray in the drawer of your nightstand – but you were glad you had. Rushing for it, hands shaking as you pulled the handle and grabbed the bottle – twisting around and spraying it right in the face of your roommate.

He cries out from the attack, clutching his face with both hands – staggering back with a series of gruff curse words.

Still, he guards the door – preventing your escape.

The groaning turns to croaks instead, and you think he might be crying. It’s tough to see through the hands covering his eyes – but when he looks back up again, despite the red burns left by your pepper spray on his puffy teary cheeks, he’s got a smile on his face. 

He’s not crying – he’s laughing – as the hand covering his face slowly drags down the crazed expression – over crazed eyes, bloodshot and wet, staring at you through the gaps between his fingers.

The look alone is enough to give you goosebumps.

But when you try to make a run for it, he grabs you again – and this time, you’re not able to shake him off. It feels as though the tight grip splinters your skin as he pulls you back – shoving you down against your bed.

“Can’t say it hasn’t been fun, roomie. But I’m not completely satisfied yet.”

He’s on top of you before you get a kick in – pinning your wrists above your head as he leans over you – bright eyes gleaming with that sickness you’d almost convinced yourself you’d been imagining. You opt to shout, but he’s soon got his other hand clasped tight over the bottom half of your face before you get a sound out.

“You were supposed to fall in love with me, you know?” His voice is airy as though he’s confessing – but also on the brink of laughter as though he’s telling a joke in class. “That’s how it goes in the movies.”

You swallow beneath his hand – eyes peeled, heart beating so hard it hurts.

His eyes wander – roaming your neck and chest. It’s awfully quiet before he speaks again. “But I suppose we can act out a different plot line...” 

You whimper at his suggestive tone – already feeling the weight of his intentions bearing down on you, crushing you free of air. 

“I like romcoms, but horror stories have their charm, too...”

You shudder beneath the warmth of his breath, screaming into his palm once his warm lips mouth your throat, sucking on the tender skin with tongue and teeth in between words.

“An unfortunate college student finds themself moving into the same dorm as their unhinged stalker…”

There’s a thrill in his tone – something crazed and terrifying as he goes on.

“The two play a psychological game of endurance, trying to balance college and privacy while sharing the same space...”

Something hard and gross steadily ruts against your thigh. His voice gets thicker – breath hotter on your neck. The kisses turn sloppy. Tears burn your cheeks.

“Everything seems to lead up to a party held before Spring break, a fateful night on which their endurance finally runs out.”

He groans, and you sob.

“A rejected kiss, a can of pepper spray, a shared bed. What happens next?”

♡ BNHA – Denki, Kirishima, Hawks ♡ JJK – Mahito, Gojo, Yuuta ♡ HQ – Miya twins ♡ CSM – Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Nagi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

Full fic with smut available here:

[scoutswritingcorner]

Can I request Hazbin Hotel characters reacting to an artist!reader that draws a lot but never shows anyone their work but one day accidentally left it out and their partner finds it and sees several sketches and finished drawings of them? Sorry if it’s an odd ask, I’m an artist and I thought it would be a cute idea I don’t see nearly enough, it’s okay if you can’t. Thank you either way!!!

Artist Rendition

Hazbin Gang x GN!Reader

TW:A little flirty with Angel’s reaction. Other than that none!

A/N: Not an odd request at all, Friend! For Angel’s part I did write for a male Reader and Fem Reader for Vaggie! KINDA SHORT I APOLOGIZE FRIEND!

-🦌Alastor🦌-

-🦌 Alastor was very curious to see you carry a sketchbook around all the time. He wanted to pry so badly.

-🦌 But he didn’t, he simply ignored the book and only ever asked about it if you were near him. You always get flustered and hide the book even further. Oh now he’s wondering what kind of dark secrets you have in there~

-🦌 But to his surprise when he finds it open and on a page, he sees drawings of him, he carefully flips the page and sees a half down sketch of him sitting in front of the fireplace.

-🦌 Oh boy you just made his ego inflate and his undead heart soar to new heights. His tail starts wagging and that’s the only way someone can catch how happy he is.

-🦌 Now? He’s going to poke a little fun at you, “My Dear, if you had to pick anyone in the hotel to be your muse who would it be?” 

-🦌 Silly deer man loves you and your abilities, he often tells you that your work needs to be displayed in a museum.

-🍎Lucifer🍎-

-🍎 Oh boy- when he finds out you can draw? Oh he gets super excited and asks if you can draw him a duck- even if it’s a little doodle! He doesn’t care!

-He doesn’t really ask or pry into your hobby much but he will admit he does want to see what you draw.

-When he does see that you drew him of all people he gets all flustered and he’s prideful cause his partner?? His darling little angel drew him?!?

-He will volunteer to pose for you, he’s used to sitting still for hours on end! 

-He will even pose naked if you want him to! Just say the word and he’ll drop his clothes right there.

-🎰Husk🎰-

-🎰 He watched you sit at the bar and draw to your heart's content and never really commented on it.

-🎰 When he does peek into your sketchbook it’s to pull behind the bar into a safe place so nothing ruins your work.

-🎰That’s when he notices the drawings and doodles of him and his tail curls happily. The way you captured him doing menial tasks sends his heart into overdrive.

-🎰 You were too good for him, damn it. The next time you find it? It has a little sticky note on the cover of your sketchbook and it has a little drawing of you with a small message, “Had to go out with Alastor. Love you, Dollface.” 

-🕷️ Angel Dust 🩷-

-🕷️ Oh this man- he loves it! You’re an artist and he’s also like an artist! But of a very very different genre.

-🩷 He also doesn’t pry much as he understands privacy. He wants to give you that as much as he can since he doesn’t get much of it.

-🕷️ Once he finds out you draw him? He’s over the fucking moon cause his man? His precious boyfriend draws him! 

-🩷Expect him to start flirting more and more but with art related flirts. “Come on, Suga’~ Draw me like one of your french girls~” im sorry. He’s very supportive!

-👑Charlie👑-

-👑 oh this baby girl..she’s been so busy lately that if she did notice it completely slipped her mind!

-👑 But when she finds your sketchbook? She gets super excited cause you draw this good?? She’s so proud that she immediately goes to find you!

-👑 She is another who fully supports you! You need anything, don't hesitate to ask!

-👑 Will try to convince you to start painting for the hotel! You can say no it won’t offend her.

-🎀Vaggie🎀-

-🎀 Much like Husk she won’t point it out or comment on it.

-🎀Will find out you draw her when she sees it when cleaning up and gets all blushy cause this is how you see her?

-🎀 Comes clean immediately about seeing your drawings and tells you how amazing they are.

-🎀 Shyly asks if she can pose for you next time, how could you say no to her?

[andypantsx3]

ALL IN A DAY'S QUIRK : SERO HANTA x READER

summary: Sero gets hit with a quirk that makes others see him as the person they are most attracted to. Which you really wish you had known before you opened your mouth and gave him your usual, “Hey, Sero!” tags/warnings: pro hero au, fluff, misunderstandings, quirk accident, not actually unrequited feelings, smut, thigh riding, fem reader (no pronouns but AFAB genitalia terms used), aged up characters, 5.3k

It was approximately four thirty-three p.m. when Sero Hanta returned from patrol and blew your peaceful day to bits.

Before his arrival, the Todoroki Agency had been relatively quiet, as it usually was around this time, everyone but the on-call staff winding down for the day. You’d been hearing the telltale rustling of jackets and scuffle of feet in the office behind you since the clock ticked past four.

Not long after, a couple of your friends from the analytics department had wandered over to your desk, clearly deciding they were not going to get anything else done, gossiping and stealing the candies you kept in a glass bowl on the reception counter.

“I heard Shouto’s manager is considering signing him up for a shirtless charity calendar,” Mari told you immediately, wiggling her eyebrows. “Hana from brand management said she was asked to do research on the impact the calendar had on other pros’ careers, so I think this is serious.”

She looked beyond pleased, her cheeks pink and her ears tipped red, the way they always were when she contemplated her massive crush on your agency head, Todoroki Shouto.

You couldn’t fault her–Shouto was incredibly handsome and kind, if a bit spacey–but you’d always been drawn to a different pro hero on the agency roster. Someone just a little bit taller, with dark hair and a half-moon grin, a razor sharp sense of humor, and the most inconceivably mouth-watering thighs in the pro hero business.

Not that you had been giving them attention. Much.

You suppressed the urge to ask if anyone else from the agency was being considered for the calendar, wiggling your eyebrows back. “Well I know you’ll be the first in line.”

Mari’s blush deepened, and Kimiko laughed around an orange-flavored candy, which you stocked for many reasons other than a certain tape-themed hero’s predilection for oranges, thank you very much.

“I just hope they include Uravity-san,” Kimiko said. “I mean–not shirtless shirtless, but like, god would I kill for her in a little sports bra.”

Kimiko sounded unaffected, but you’d literally hidden her beneath your desk the time pro heroes Uravity and Deku visited for an agency team-up with the Todoroki office. She’d spent the entire time peering out with big eyes, muttering under her breath, “I am so gay. So very very gay.”

You didn’t doubt if Uravity were included in the spread, Kimiko might even beat Mari out for the first spot in line.

“You both have such kind hearts,” you laughed. “So eager to give to charity.”

“I’m a lifelong philanthropist,” Mari agreed, picking up your pen and doodling hearts all over your office stationery. You noticed she colored in only the left side, and suppressed another laugh.

Whatever. You knew what it was to be that whipped, even if you’d never do anything about it.

As huge as your thing was for Sero, there wasn’t a chance in hell he returned your affections. He was incredibly friendly, but over the past few years, he’d never even given a hint that he was into you like that. He’d treated you with the same easy cheer and subjected you to the same good-natured roasting he did everyone else in the agency.

And now was not the time to go looking for more, anyway. You’d recently become close enough to see Sero outside of work and you were not about to endanger that–you’d been invited to a house party of his a couple months ago, gone to drinks with him and a couple of agency people after work, and even grabbed dinner alone a few times over the past few weeks. You’d been texting memes practically nonstop this entire week alone.

He was so much fun, always quick with a joke, a wink, or an interesting story, and he wasn’t afraid to tell things like they were. You forgot time was passing when you were with him, and sometimes when you went out, you stayed out long enough that you thought he might, too.

So you were finally reaching a stage in your friendship where Sero clearly felt close and comfortable—you would not press for more.

It was just, sometimes, when he smiled down at you with that clever, mischievous grin, your heart felt like it was experiencing some sort of medical event. Sometimes, when he put his dark hair up into a messy half-bun, those biceps cording as he did so, it felt like someone had just vacuumed all the oxygen straight out of your lungs. Sometimes, when he leaned down to whisper something to you in his most conspiratorial tones, it felt like someone had spiked your brain into a blender and pureed it into mush.

But it was cool.

You knew how to play it cool.

Mari pulled you back to earth with the promise of more gossip—this time, about her arch nemesis in accounting—and Kimiko leaned in, offering her own commentary over the unwrapping of another of your candies.

And then the clock struck four thirty-three, and Sero Hanta returned from patrol.

You heard the telltale mechanic ping of an agency badge passing checkpoint, and peeked around Kimiko to see Sero trudging through the doorway, looking strangely contemplative. He was covered in dirt and his uniform was slashed in several places, including a great deal of shredding about the thighs, which you would have been happier about if he didn’t look so unusually subdued.

He didn’t look hurt at any rate, so that was good. But you couldn’t help but call out to him.

“Hey Sero!” you said, curious about his demeanor. “How’d patrol go? Something happen?”

Kimiko and Mari turned around, and you watched as both of them seemed to freeze up. Kimiko’s hand slapped against the reception counter, the sound echoing through the room, gripping tightly as though she’d suddenly seen a ghost.

“Ur–Uravity-san,” she said, dipping into the most formal bow you’d ever seen her make. “What’s brought you here?”

You felt your mouth pull into a frown, staring at the back of her head in absolute bamboozlement. Was she seeing things? The only person in the doorway was Sero, and he was very much unaccompanied.

His helmet was propped between his hip and his elbow, so his face was clear too–so Kimiko didn’t even have the excuse of not being able to see his face, different though his costume was from Uravity’s.

Sero blinked, his mouth pulling into a semi-puzzled grin. “Uravity?”

Mari was slapping Kimiko before you could inquire the same thing, hissing, “Are you losing it? That’s fucking Shouto.” She turned back to pin you with something between a glare and a concerned, assessing gaze, as if you too had lost your marbles.

You frowned back, your own concern deepening. “I’m sorry–are you guys seriously telling me that Shouto and Uravity are here with Sero?” You peered back around Mari at Sero, quirking a brow at him. “Did they get hit with some kind of invisibility quirk or are these two experiencing some kind of hallucination?”

Maybe too much shirtless calendar talk had gotten them too hot and bothered.

Sero’s dark gaze pinned you, and he quickly came tromping over, his boots echoing on the stone flooring. He leaned over the reception counter, pointing to his face with one long, pretty finger. “Wait, you can tell it’s me?”

He smelled like cement and sweat and dust, and something vaguely minty, like he’d been chewing gum recently. You tried not to let your expression show how much you liked the look of him up close, those hooded dark eyes, his wide, charming mouth.

“Um, yes? I have eyeballs?” you wondered.

Sero blinked, leaning in closer. Your heartbeat ticked up. “You’re sure?”

“Should I not be…sure?” you asked. “Are Shouto and Uravity really with you and I’m the only one who can’t see them?”

Sero shook his head, “Nah–it’s just me.”

You frowned up at him, curious. “Then why are they calling you Shouto and Uravity…?”

Sero shook his dark head. His hair was pulled into that half-bun you loved, the way it usually was under his helmet on patrol, and all mussed from whatever run in he’d had. You tried not to think about what other activities might get his hair all mussed like that.

He smiled, something wide and conspiratorial. “Got hit with some kinda illusion quirk. People have stopped me like a thousand times on my way in to ask for All Might’s autograph, or Hawks’, and even Bakugou’s. They’re lucky it was just me, he’d have thrown a shit fit getting cut off in the street like that.”

Sero’s features shifted into something slightly more contemplative again. “But you’re somehow immune, huh?”

You frowned. “Shouldn’t you get checked out at medical, then?”

His eyes softened, and another grin made its way onto his mouth. “Yeah yeah, I’ll head right there.”

Kimiko and Mari were still gaping over at him like he was a miracle, and some strange feeling came over you, a concerned little squeeze of your heart. You grabbed Mari, plonking her down into your seat in your stead. “Cover me for a couple minutes? Just say people are unavailable and take notes and I’ll figure it out when I get back. I’m gonna run down to medical with Sero for a second.”

Mari nodded dumbly.

You pulled Sero’s helmet out of his grip, resting it in the crook of your own elbow, and gestured him down the hall with you. Sero fell into step beside you, keeping up easily with his long stride. He grinned down at you, seemingly unperturbed that he’d gotten hit with a quirk that had all but erased his identity in the eyes of others.

It was something you admired in him, his inherent good-naturedness.

You wondered why you were the only one who could tell it was him.

“Any good gossip while I was gone?” he asked, like he really couldn’t be fussed about his predicament. “I was starting to hear shirtless calendar talk before I had to head out on patrol.”

You suppressed a flush and fought down the urge to ask if he’d been asked to be in it too.

You did not need to know.

“Whatever the hell is going on with you is the spiciest bit of gossip all day,” you told him, rounding a corner and badging into the stairwell down to the medical floor. You clung to the railing carefully and most definitely did not watch his thighs bunch as he took the stairs. “Want a drink after work? It seems like you could use one, after this.”

Sero smiled, an eyebrow raising. “Trying to get me drunk, huh?”

You wrinkled your nose. “As if I’d need to be so underhanded.”

You did. You did need to be so underhanded.

Sero had to angle himself carefully through the door, his shoulder pieces liable to snag on the doorway with the breadth of those pro hero shoulders. The medic on staff took one look at him and flushed, mumbling out a name you didn’t know.

You piped in before she could say more. “Cellophane’s been hit with a quirk that makes him appear like someone else. It’s not whoever you think!”

She blinked curiously, but then nodded, probably having seen much weirder things in her time as a hero agency staffer. She gestured Sero to a cot on the side of the room. “Alright, please sit down, Cellophane. We’ll do a couple quick tests and then get you sorted with the right quirk cancellation.” Her cheeks seemed to heat again as she spoke, but she made good on her promise, disappearing down the hall, calling to someone for quirk testing strips.

Sero hopped up on the cot, swinging those long legs, grinning at you from eye-level, now. “Think I should prank a couple people before they cancel it?”

You rolled your eyes. “Only you would be having fun with this. No one in the world knows who you are!”

The corner of Sero’s mouth pulled wryly. “You do.”

“You don’t know if that could change, dude. Better get it over with before you get stuck as like, Endeavor forever.”

Sero laughed, light and airy. “Shouto wouldn’t hang with me anymore.”

You nodded. “Exactly, and none of the rest of us read the same weird manga you guys are into so you’d be all alone with no one to fanboy about it to.”

The medic returned with a thick silvery strip, pulling on blue nitrile gloves as she did so. Sero held his arm out obligingly, the lean muscle flexing in the fluorescence of the office lighting. She peeled off the backing of the strip, pressing it to Sero’s forearm, pushing it down firmly.

She attached a cable to some screened device, and you listened to the beep of various buttons. Sero watched you over her shoulder, his easy smile still in place.

Finally, the device in the medic’s hand beeped, and she pulled back, announcing somewhat shyly, “An attraction-type quirk.”

You blinked, mystified. A what?

Sero’s grin seemed to freeze on his face, and his thin brows furrowed the tiniest bit.

The medic continued, oblivious. “This quirk creates an illusion. External parties will perceive the affectee with the traits or as the person they are most attracted to.”

Sero’s dark eyes snapped to yours, widening, and you fumbled a step back, almost tripping over yourself. You threw out a hand, barely catching yourself on the counter.

No.

Oh fuck no.

If people were seeing who they were most attracted to…and you had just seen Sero the whole time…

That would mean—that would mean—and he had heard you say—

“Oh my god, I just remembered I have to get back to Mari,” you said, offering Sero a wave of your suddenly numb hand. “Can’t, um, strand her at the desk for too long. I’ll leave you guys to it. Uh, yeah. Thanks–bye!”

You quickly threw yourself out through the door, leaving Sero alone with the medic. You dashed back up the stairwell, your heartbeat shooting into your mouth.

How could this be happening? How unbelievably embarrassing was that? You’d worked so hard to play it cool in front of Sero for all this time, for years, really, and you’d finally just made it to a comfortable place as friends.

And then—and then—some attraction-illusion quirk goes and blows your cover, just like that? For real?

And he’d heard you, too. Heard you say, “Hey, Sero!” as soon as he’d come through the door, before anyone had revealed anything about who else they thought he might be instead. Before you could have possibly had any clue that he’d been quirked.

You could die of mortification.

You shooed Mari and Kimiko away from the desk when you got back, quickly readying your things to get the hell out of the office as soon as your night replacement arrived. You cleaned up all the bi-colored hearts Mari had doodled on every available surface of your desk and refilled the candy bowl Kimiko had apparently seen fit to devastate in your absence, your ears heating with the thought that Sero could catch on now, why you stocked orange candies.

God, could your replacement hurry the fuck up before Sero got back here?

But the night receptionist was predictably late, of course, and by the time you finally saw him badge through the front entrance you could hear quick, booted steps across the tile behind you.

Sero’s voice sounded over the back of your chair, just as a long-fingered hand closed around your wrist.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice more careful than you’d ever heard it. “Still up for that drink? I think maybe we could talk over it.”

The night receptionist nodded at you and Sero as he made his way over, and you gave up your chair to him, collecting your bag with Sero’s warm fingers still clutching your wrist. You slowly worked up the courage to look up at him, face heating as you took in his uncharacteristically intent expression. His face had been cleaned and it looked like some antibiotic had been applied to some of the scrapes along his jaw.

You knew then you’d trapped yourself. Though it was probably also better to get things over with now than avoid the subject forever.

“Okay,” you said, trying to keep your voice normal. “Yeah, let’s talk.”

Sero was the nicest dude ever, you had to remember that. Even when it came down to a rejection, he would still be completely kind and friendly. Probably not too much would change on his end afterwards either. You couldn’t imagine him avoiding you or treating you any differently.

“My place okay?” Sero asked as you shrugged on your bag.

You nodded, and he smiled, nearly as wide and silly as he normally did, tinged with only the slightest bit of shyness.

You’d originally planned to take him out somewhere fun, but this conversation was probably best had in private. And Sero’s place was close, an apartment only a couple blocks’ walk, in a charming little neighborhood fringed by a park and a variety of interesting bars and cafes. Sero chatted away with his usual friendly ease as you walked, still in his shredded hero costume, waving to the couple people that recognized him as you did so.

Your stomach flipped as he opened his front door, gesturing you inside under his arm. He was tall and lanky enough that you fit easily, and you caught a whiff of that minty scent again under all the dust that coated his uniform. You tried not to look too closely at the lines of his bicep as you passed under it.

His apartment was just as you’d remembered it; spacious, casually decorated in neutral tones with splashes of interesting patterns spread across the rug, throw pillows, and his collection of wall hangings. It smelled cottony and clean, and Sero gestured you to his couch as he dumped his helmet and boots in the doorway, shrugging off his shoulder pieces.

“A beer cool?” he asked as he made his way into the kitchen. “I’ve got a couple of good ones.”

“Sounds great,” you told him, listening to the sounds of him cracking the caps.

To your surprise he plopped down on the couch next to you as he came back in, handing you a bottle. It was cold, and your fingers made little prints in the condensation where you touched it.

“So,” he said, turning to you, a sly look in his dark eyes. “You wanna talk about what just happened?”

Your face flamed, and you took a quick sip of your beer to give you time to recover yourself. It was sour on your tongue, a hint of orange peel in its profile.

“No,” you told him honestly, giving him a self-conscious smile, which he returned. “I think it’s pretty clear, actually. You got hit by a quirk that shows people the person they’re most attracted to and I, uh, obviously saw, um, you.”

Sero’s grin pulled wider at the edges, surprising you. If you didn’t know better, you would think he liked hearing that. Although maybe it was a little bit of an ego stroke to hear you were someone’s fantasy man, even if you didn’t return their feelings.

“Not All Might and not Bakugou,” he said, something pleased in his tone.

You blinked at him, disturbed by those insinuations. “Definitely not,” you sniffed. “I am a paragon of taste.”

Sero laughed, his fingers flexing on the side of his beer. Then he took a sip, seeming to contemplate something as he did, and you drew yourself together, preparing for the inevitable. That was definitely a look that said he was thinking hard, probably about the best way to let you down.

But then Sero grinned back down at you, leaning in collusively. “You wanna know something?”

You could feel your brows raise curiously, even as your heartbeat picked up with his proximity. You looked down, then accidentally spied the strips of tanned thigh where his costume had torn, and had to quickly reroute your gaze for fear of staring. “That depends.”

Sero’s grin went even more sly. “I think if you’d been hit with that quirk, I’d have known it was you too.”

Your heartbeat slammed to a halt in your chest. It was only when Sero threw a hand out that you realized you’d lost your grip on your beer, his quick reflexes the only thing saving his carpet. You startled at the sudden move, making a weird arm-flinging motion somewhere between grabbing for your beer and grabbing onto him, ending up accidentally smacking him in the chest instead.

“Fuck, I—sorry!” you garbled out, stunned by his sudden proximity and the fistful of his costume you’d taken. His skin was warm against the side of your hand.

Sero blinked, looking taken aback for a moment. Then he shifted, and you heard the clink of two beers being deposited on his coffee table. You swallowed, unable to look away from him, and you watched his dark eyes rove over your face, before dipping down to stare at something just under your nose.

A shiver prickled up your spine.

“So when you—with the quirk—” you tried, but your brain had gone offline, and the right set of words were not coming to you. “Um, when you say—you would have known—?”

Sero’s grin crept back across his mouth. “I mean that I’d have seen you, because I’ve been wanting to ask you out and trying to figure out if you're into me for months.”

It had to be the shock of this admission that registered you so stupid. “You—months? Try years.”

Sero’s laugh beat back the instant wave of mortification that overcame you in the next second, when you realized what'd you'd just said. You could only smile back helplessly, equally pleased and embarrassed. He looked so good right then, too, grinning toothily, his hair a mess, his costume torn to shreds. He really was the most gorgeous guy you had ever seen, that quirk had totally had your number.

It suddenly dawned on you that you had little else to lose now, with everything out in the open. And when Sero looked like that—sly, pleased, and a little bit of a mess—you thought you were done trying to bury things.

A thrill zinging down your spine, you leaned in and pressed your mouth to his.

He’d been laughing, and you only caught the edge of his mouth, but Sero quickly corrected. You could feel his lips go slack in surprise for a second, and then he was schooling himself and returning your kiss with abandon.

Long fingers came up to take your chin, holding you firmly in place. It was so unexpectedly bold that you shuddered, kissing him harder. Your hand tangled further in the fabric of his costume, gripping onto him for dear life as his tongue met yours, twisting and teasing. It was so like him, the way he kissed. Teasing, playful, easy. Your head spun with how much you liked it.

“Aw fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” Sero said, when he finally pulled away far enough to enunciate the words. He shifted against you, putting a large palm against your back, pulling you to him. You followed his guidance, climbing into his lap, chasing his mouth again. You wanted more—more now that you thought you could have it.

“I’ve been wanting—for years—” you said, squeaking in surprise when Sero guided you down onto a strong thigh. It was hard and thick and way too muscular to be allowed, and your breath left you in a harsh hiss. And because this was the most embarrassing day of your life, Sero clocked it immediately, leaning forward in interest.

“You—like that? My—thigh?” he asked curiously.

You could feel your face burning, like someone had just dunked it in a bucket of hot coals. “I–yes. I like everything about you. Including your thighs,” you admitted.

Sero’s hand guided you back down against him, pressing his knee up experimentally. A thrill sang through your veins at the feeling of a piece of him so warm and firm right up against your core. You barely bit back the noise you wanted to make.

“Fuck, this is weirdly hot,” Sero said, leaning in to take your mouth again. You could feel him growing hard against your knee through the fabric of his costume, as his tongue flicked against yours, making your brain go a little woozy.

His arms came around you, holding your waist as he ground his leg up into you, sending a wave of pleasure striking through you like lightning. The moan you’d been trying to hold in finally broke free of you. “Ah—Hanta!”

The sound seem to spark something in him. Sero surged up, his hands making quick work of your shirt as he kissed you, still rocking you against his thigh in a way that made you see stars. You had the wild thought that everything about him was more than you’d ever imagined it would be, from the delicate press of his fingers to the warmth of his thigh to the way the strands of his hair that had escaped brushed across your forehead. Embarrassingly fast, like he knew exactly how to play you, he worked you up to the crest of your pleasure.

You had to put a hand to his chest to stop him.

“Hanta, if you—I’m going to cum if we don’t stop—” you said.

“Oh my god please,” was his only answer, and he pulled you down onto his thigh with renewed vigor. Sparks of pleasure pricked all over your body as he kissed you again, his hands roaming every inch of exposed skin. He left bruising kisses down the side of your throat, fingers playing with your nipples.

Another few rocks into his thigh sent you right over the edge, and he held you against him as you rode it out, squirming against his thigh.

“This is the hottest thing that has ever happened to me,” he said, something in his tone making it clear he was not done with you yet.

He helped you wiggle out of your pants, freeing himself of his own costume, and laid you out over his couch, grinning. He was golden with a fading summer tan, and his smile was so wide and charming and white against the dimming light from the windows. He was gloriously lean, hard with dense, compact stretches of muscle, every single inch of him honed from years of hero work. He was perfect—so stupidly, handsomely, perfect.

Between his thighs, his cock was just as long and lean, heavy and flush with arousal. It made you dizzy to think that this man, who you’d crushed on for so long, wanted you like this—wanted you back in the same way you’d always wanted him. You motioned him closer, too eager now to be self-conscious about it.

Sero laughed, a happy noise. “Fuck, you’re so pretty though.” He stretched out over you, sliding in between your thighs and guiding himself into you. His chest pressed to yours, hot and slick with a light sheen of sweat already, and you hissed with the feeling of him slipping inside you.

You felt drunk with arousal, crazy with want. You clutched him to you as he moved, thrusting carefully at first, as if testing the feeling of you, and then more firmly. You let out soft noises you hadn't meant to, which Sero seemed to appreciate.

“God, look at you. Listen to you,” he said, grinning down at you, his dark eyes tracing over you. “I can’t believe I got hit with that quirk. This is the luckiest day of my life—you’re so cute. So—fuck—so perfect.”

He slid into a frustratingly sedate pace, strokes long and languid, stretching out almost teasingly. You wrapped your legs more tightly around his hips, trying to press him into you, but his smile just widened. He moved leisurely, setting his own pace, just on the wrong side of too slow.

It drove you insane, somehow working you up even faster than if he’d been doing what you wanted. You muffled the sounds of your own moans against his lips, gripping onto those broad shoulders. Sero’s own fingers slid down to your clit, playing with you just as lightly and teasingly as his thrusts.

You could have killed him, but all you could do was hold onto him, slurring his name appreciatively.

He worked you like that for a while, bringing you close but never too close, drawing out the feeling into something warm and fizzy, like soda left in the sun. But eventually the band of his control seemed to snap, and he began thrusting into you harder, faster. Those long, lovely fingers circled your clit with more intent as he did, murmuring a steady stream of praise.

“Please—cum with me,” he panted into your mouth, as his fingers drew ever-tightening circles over you. “I want you to come with me, Y/N. Can you—can you do that?”

You nodded frantically as his thrusts grew faster, sloppier. He was so good inside you, so good over you, his fingers such a delicious pressure against your clit. It only took a few thrusts more, a few strokes of those careful fingers, and then you were squirming against him in earnest, your veins going molten with pleasure.

“Hanta—I’m going to—!”

“Yessss,” he hissed, and then he was orgasming too, spilling out his pleasure inside of you. His hips slapped yours in a stuttering pattern, half-crazed, and you shook against him, gasping. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you crested the wave, until finally—finally you went limp against him, just as his own body relaxed over you.

“I want to be hit with a quirk all the time,” he said, ridiculously.

You couldn’t help but laugh, smiling into his shoulder. “Don’t make a habit of it.”

Sero hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know. If this is what I get every time, then…” he trailed off, smirking down at you.

“I’m not going to bang you if you’re going to be irresponsible,” you told him.

He perked up, however, those dark eyes peering at you hopefully. “But you’ll bang me otherwise?”

You laughed again, pinching him lightly on the arm where you held him. “What do you think having a crush on you for years means?”

His grin went all sly and pleased again. “Then I’ll have to lock it down, of course. I haven’t spent months wondering just to let you get away. Starting with dinner this evening, maybe. Do you—would dinner be okay?” he asked. The sound of genuine, eager hope in his voice was so gratifying it made you want to kick your legs in the air.

You settled for nodding instead. “Dinner sounds amazing.”

“Then I’ll arrange the finest takeout just for you,” he said, which you knew from experience meant the empanadas place around the corner. You laughed again, feeling full already with the promise of an easy meal, and a relationship to come.

“Whatever you want sounds good to me,” you said, even as he began to slide off of you, helping you up alongside him. “You’ve had a crazy day today, empanadas sound like the perfect cap.”

Sero leaned in, his expression as mischievous and charming as always. “It’s nothing,” he said, even as he carefully held out your shirt to you again, guiding you into it in an unexpectedly gentlemanly move. You let him stuff you into it, laughing, smiling into the kiss he gave you as you emerged.

He winked at you as he found his phone and dialed, smiling as you heard the call connect. “After all, I'm a hero," he said. "And it’s all in a day’s work.”

[heirloomgem]

Infatuation Series

Summary: Small snippets and cute scenes on your crush on Sung Jinwoo and how Sung Jinwoo courts and wins over you in high school after using the cup of reincarnation.

His sole purpose in this life is to win your heart, become your faithful husband, and have you be the mother of his children. No one else but you. (Mini chapters)

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything except for my characters and plot.

Warning/Genre: OOC, Romance, fluff, high school life (Sorry for the miss grammar)

Chapter 1: Chances

Lately, you have been too flustered for your own good but that’s because you’ve started liking someone.

In a classroom filled with students, the sound of pens scratching on paper echoed as students took notes while listening to their teacher.

Some people were diligent, some were dozing off and some were distracted, and you were among them.

Twirling your pen in one hand and leaning on the other, you did your best to listen to the lesson.

However, the calm spring breeze coming through the window seemed to lull you, and your mind gradually began to drift away.

Slowly, your eyes were closing.

Just as you were about to nod off, you caught yourself and quickly straightened up. Opening the back of your notebook you opted to doodle so you won't fall asleep.

It begins with a flower, followed by a bear, a knight's helmet, dragon wings, a dagger and various other unusual and unrelated items until finally you unconsciously draw a chibi version of him.

You felt your cheeks heat up.

Sung Jinwoo.

A second-year student in your high school, whom you started liking recently.

He was your senior by a year as you were in your first year. He was one of the handsome, popular and competent students in your school that most girls fawn over and for boys to idolize.

Like most girls in your school, you were no different from them, who accidentally glanced at him and were instantly smitten.

Foolishly and stupidly smitten.

You didn't know why, but after catching a glimpse of his soft black hair reminiscent of the night, his slender yet beautiful grey eyes, framed by long eyelashes, and his lips, which had a slight reddish tint.

That day, a deep sense of familiarity surged within you. Those feelings captured you and he entangled you with his very being without hesitation.

Even to this day, just remember that moment and how your eyes met made your body heat up, your cheeks flush and a deep aching echo inside you.

Finishing your doodle, you took a moment to admire your drawing of him.

Even though it's just a silly drawing, you couldn't help but caress his small face. A sweet smile appeared on your lips before shaking your head, catching yourself.

Looking at the front, you let out a sigh of relief when you saw that the teacher and your classmates didn't catch you making a silly face out of nowhere and were focused on the lesson instead.

You didn't want anyone, particularly your teacher, to catch you daydreaming especially when your mind wandered toward your silly little crush or else with just a slip everyone in your school would talk about it no doubt and soon he would hear about it.

Just imagining his uncomfortable expression made you shudder, scared and embarrassed.

There's no way you would be able to endure such humiliation if such a thing were ever to happen.

Slapping yourself awake, you flip your notes back and resume jotting down points.

Soon the bell rang, signalling for a break.

You gratefully took the time to stretch your stiff body, worn from sitting in class for almost half of the day. Hearing your bones crack, you let out a sigh of relief, you turn toward your friend before happily inviting her to go out and buy some snacks.

Walking down the hallways while talking to your friend, you furtively give a few glances at his classroom as you pass it. Hoping to catch a glance of him.

However, it seems that luck wasn't on your side, as you didn't even see a glimpse of his clothes. A sense of sadness envelops you, leaving you disheartened.

Unfortunately, you weren’t in the same class or year as him so there were only a few times when you could see him.

Although you envy the students that were in the same year as him, that didn’t dismay you from time to time to wander the hallways of his classroom to try to catch sight of him.

This was one of the few times you hoped to see him, but it seemed the gods were not in your favour today.

You haven't seen nor heard of him at all throughout the morning and now it's already past noon.

You were hoping to at least even just once, you would see him.

Glumly choosing some snacks, you paid right away and waited for your friend's turn before the both of you walked back to your classroom.

Your head hung low as you considered the rest of the day would be unmotivated and restless due to not seeing him.

You wonder why you weren't born in the same year as him. If you had been, you might have had the chance to be with him that year or, even better, have him as your classmate instead of your senior.

Probably because you were too busy weeping childishly, you didn't pay enough attention to where you were going, causing you to crash into someone.

Expecting the painful impact, you held your breath when suddenly, you felt a strong hand holding your waist and pulling you into a warm embrace, steadying your fall.

With your heart racing from fright and still dazed from the incident, it took you a moment to come to your senses before you looked up, ready to apologize.

But your eyes widened instead, your tongue stuck in your throat, and not a word came out.

You felt your face blush uncontrollably, and your whole body trembled. This time, you knew your heart was racing not from fright, but from the nervousness of your crush's sudden appearance.

Standing face to face with your crush, Sung Jinwoo, you could feel his breath as your faces were close to each other, his head bent down, looking at you.

“I’m sorry. Are you alright?” He asked as he gave you a worried look while you, in turn, could only look at him with your mouth wide open.

Both of your friends, who saw the whole situation stood frozen.

For one, your friend knows who your crush is while the other was bewildered with the whole situation.

Lifting his eyes, Sung Jinwoo’s eyebrow furrowed, concerned in his beautiful grey eyes, then brought a hand to touch your forehead which was now red from the earlier collision with his back.

“Your forehead’s bruised. We should go to the infirmary.” He murmured as he caressed your forehead.

Feeling his gentle touch, you snap out of your bewilderment and start rambling nonsensically, your arms flailing, your voice squeaking, and your face all messed up.

You couldn't help but cry in your heart.

Of all times, your bad luck just has to kick you when you least expected it and now you're making a fool of yourself in front of him.

Worst of all you just showed him yourself gawking at him unreservedly.

Not taking it anymore and embarrassed from head to toe, you immediately took your friend’s hand, apologizing before dashing away from the awkward situation.

You’re sure not only your face but your whole body is red as a tomato. Your back sweating profusely.

You’ve always imagined countless scenarios in your head. If you ever got the chance to talk to him, you would act smoothly and gracefully, ensuring that not a hint of your crush would show.

But now! BUT NOW!

You cried in despair.

God! You wish you could burrow yourself in a hole.

You were just grateful that only the four of you were in the hallway; otherwise, not only would you be mortified by your embarrassment, but you were certain that his fans would be furious with you for getting too close to him. And for sure you would be dead meat by the end of the day.

You were so grateful that wasn't the case.

As you and your friend were still running toward your class, a shameless thought popped into your mind, causing your once-red face to turn even redder.

Even though it was but a moment, you shamelessly recalled how his body felt against you.

His body was hard and built.

If you bet with anyone that he absolutely has abs even though he's only a high schooler, you will surely win.

With your mind clouded by immoral thoughts, you didn't notice the classroom door was closed, resulting in you running into it.

A loud sound echoed down the hallway, causing your friend to yelp in concern at your unhinged state.

You muttered a whole storm of curses under your breath.

You're certain the gods intended for you to die in shame today, leaving no corpse behind.

Meanwhile...

As Jinwoo watched you run off, he chuckled, his ears turning red from your cute reaction. After all this time, he had finally reunited with you.

He is eagerly looking forward to the days when you two can finally be together again.

A/N: Ahh, the taste of high school crushes! It’s so fresh but SO cringe at the same time, I couldn’t help but look back at my past crushes. SO CRINGE AND YET SO BITTER AND SO GOOD! Lol!🤣

Anyway, Sorry for the late post. Life has been too busy though I hope you enjoyed this fanfic!

{All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author}

[tiny-space-platypus]

Part 5 Not your average field trip

Previous

Dani had learned that rich people school is SO much different from regular school in the past month and a half. She was actually learning something here unlike the school she used to go to where she'd just sit bored most of the time. She had learnt quite a bit actually. Something that really angered her was realizing that her class bullied Mr.Brother mistaking, bad attitude, Damian Wayne. Though they never actually touched him, just rumors, rather awful jokes, and mean spirited memes. Apparently being a Wayne meant he was practically immune to physical bullying. Something about the others being afraid of his family ruining theirs. Did the Waynes have that much power?

Whatever, Dani has decided she was going to be this boy's friend. So instead of hanging around the other kids she hung around Damian her protective core claiming him as a friend meaning she'd protect him.

Talking to him was almost insufferable though. He was soooooo uptight till Dani started noticing his sketches. Well, that was something they could actually bond over since talking wasn't working. So Dani started bringing her own sketch book though her drawings were mostly blueprints like her brother, she also did like just drawing regular things as well. They might not talk when they spend time together (both finding each other's voice insufferable) but they did share drawings and sometimes even blueprints that the Dannies worked on together. Damian had even admitted they were good! Her brother and her even getting a compliment out of Mr. Always scowling Damian Wayne! Dani got way too excited over that almost falling out of the tree she was dangling from. He compared her to Mr.Grayson Wayne, she huffed when he told her that wasn't a compliment.

Today was like every other day of school. They'd sit in class, do whatever they need to then go out to recess like the rest of the kids. Dani would play games with the other kids for the first half then go sit at the tree with Damian to draw. She was always sitting in the tree hanging upside down. Dani insists it's the best way to draw but Damian doesn't believe her. She's just weird. Anyways today Damian decided to talk with Danielle. "Are you excited for the field trip?" Dani looked down at Damian confused. She didn't know there was a field trip and certainly didn't pay for her spot. She wasn't sure if she could pay for it. "Field trip? I didn't get anything for a friend trip. Did we have to pay for tickets?" Damian scoffed at Danielle not knowing anything about the field trip. They had been talking about in class for a week now. "No you don't need to pay we're going as a class to an aerospace museum. I thought you'd be excited." Just by the look in Danielle's eyes he'd released he messed up. Not that he had upset her but he had hit something she was going to non-stop talk about for the rest of recess. He groaned internationally, at least her rambling was intelligent.

Apparently Gotham academy loved going on field trips and today was supposed to be one of those days. They were going to go to Metropolis to go see The BEST aerospace museum so Dani was excited. She loved space about as much as her brother did after all. Her and her class all got on the bus together and happily chartered with each other, Dani of course sat next to Damian. They were close now after all even if their relationship wasn't built on talking. Damian rolled his eyes at her since she was practically shaking with excitement. Damian and her spent time before the bus ride started doodling for each other then when everyone else got on the bus Dani became much more social with the other students. Telling them about space and aircraft and all sorts of constellations, even drawing them out for them. Everything was going great!

But of course, she was a Nightingale and this was Gotham and things have been going too well for too long. Apparently the weirdo and his gain of fruitloops is the Scarecrow and his goons. As soon as the bus started down the main road the bus was hijacked and forced off course to a graveyard that the Scarecrow used as his base. Dani frowned as they ran over graves and that whenever one of her classmates moved a gun would be pointed towards them. She wasn't afraid they'd actually use it though, they had no intent to kill them if she read their emotions right. She noticed how whenever they threatened someone Damian tensed but in a way that felt more like he was ready to fight not run. Interesting.

Dani was going to wait, she knew that heroes were coming eventually so they wouldn't be missing too long. Then one of the goons mentioned something about them being subjects. Experiments, they were going to be their experiments. Danielle refused to be an experiment again.

Damian had pressed his panic button as soon as the bus was taken over. He could have done something, could have taken out every one of these goons and could have had them back on track to their field trip but that would have blown his cover. He can't blow his cover, he can't put his family in danger. He'd have to wait for the others, he'd have to wait to be rescued.

It was interesting watching Danielle's reactions, she didn't seem scared at all. Actually the only time she seemed any sort of upset was when they ran over grave stones mumbling something about disrespect. Then in an attempt to scare them more the goons brought up the tests they were going to do on them. How they were going to use fear Toxin on them, a new branch of it and they were the first test subjects. Danielle tender at that then tried to get up only to be pulled back down by Damian who was looking at her with a 'what the fuck are you doing?!' Causing her to just smile at him, it was different from her normal smile, this one didn't feel human. This one felt threatening, Damian barely managed to pull her down again. Whispering urgently to her. "Danielle don't- The bats will be here soon, they'll deal with them. Don't kill yourself"

Danielle begrudgingly sat back down next to Damian who now refused to let go of her hand so she didn't do something stupid. So now they were stuck waiting.

It took another 15 minutes to get to their location though they weren't off loaded from the bus. Instead the emergency exit was pressed against a mound of dirt and someone was guarding each one of the emergency exits. They took the role called lists from the adults, guess that was how they were going to determine who it reacts best to. There was a gas canister attached to the top emergency exit. Both Danielle and Damian just stared at it though nothing happened, nothing was coming out frustrating the goon who was supposed to control it. Damian then noticed Danielle's hand growing colder and colder.

They threw in a gas grenade into the bus hitting the adults in the front with gas before stuttering and stopping completely. When the second one was thrown in the one on top stuttered dripping out the concentrated fear toxin.

Dani was creating ice over the exit points for the gas preventing it from spreading but it was slowly getting harder to hold as more grenades were thrown in. This would be so much easier if she could transform but she couldn't do that here. Her reading was probably already going through the roof meaning the GIW- No focus. Just prevent the gas from getting more people. Prevent more people from becoming experiments. She got colder. She looked at Damian for a second then tried to pull her hand away as another grenade was thrown in, instead of the pale yellow of the others this one was bright blood red. Danielle breathed some of it in before freezing that one too. Blood bloom gas, they had blood bloom gas. She choked on it about as much as Damian did. He squeezed her hand as he began to hallucinate. He then attacked her just as the bats finally began to show up taking out the goons and of course losing Scarecrow.

Danielle was holding her own against Damian who was currently trying to tear out her throat. Both now tussling on the ground. Both of them breaking ribs, blackened eyes, broken noses, the works as they battled. This would have been fun if they weren't both poisoned. Maybe when all is said and done Damian would agree to fight her again. Without poison.

Eventually though they were pulled away from each other. Batman holding Damian down as he sprayed something into the kid's face. Danielle almost attacked Batman for it till Damian calmed down and held onto the bat. She hadn't been paying attention to the Red one looking her over and asking questions. She was still breathing heavily from the poison and fighting. His voice caught her attention.

"Ms, are you alright?" RR asked as he touched the red trails left from the blood blooms under her skin. It wasn't a kind of poisoning he's seen before. She flinched away when he touched the trails. Danielle mumbled "Will be, it hurts though"

"We're going to get you to a hospital alright?" It took Danielle a solid 10 seconds before processing what RR had said. The look of pure panic on the little girl's face worried him. "No! No hospitals, No doctors!" Danielle could not go to a hospital, if she went to the hospital they'd realize she wasn't human and if they realized she wasn't human she'd be put back into a lab and Vlad and the GIW.

Danielle was now hyperventilating, causing RR to back track. "Alright, no hospitals. We won't take you to a hospital. Do you know where your home is, we can take you home." Danielle slowly got up and looked at RR then at Damian who was still holding onto Batman. She still looked a little panicked. "Is he going to be alright?" RR looked over at Damian and smiled softly. "Yeah he'll be alright, do you know him?" RR already knew that Damian had been keeping tabs on her but he still wanted to know what she thinks of his brother. "We're friends. Or maybe we were friends, I did break a few of his ribs" she paused and looked away from Damian then back at RR. "Can I go home? Please?" RR was still looking at Basn and Damian but did start to respond. "Yeah after-" he turned to look at her and she was gone. Huh, guess the kid's a meta.

As soon as RR said she could she turned invisible not listening to him complete his sentence. He said yes and that's all she needed. Danielle flew home where Danny was still in the middle of an online class. When she was him she immediately grabbed onto him sobbing. Dani sobbed then passed out mumbling something.

Slight problem, this wasn't Danny. This was Jason who was now very confused and concerned. Dani in her slightly delirious state went to the wrong apartment building. Seeing what she assumed was her brother she just let herself in not even trying the key. So now Jason had a kid in his safe house, who didn't have a key or set off any of the alarms, who looked like hell, now passed out on his couch.

Next

[l0standn0tf0und]

damn perfect hair and damn marvelous eyes

george weasley x fem!reader (hints on short!bookworm!fem!reader)

words| +- 4400

in short|  classic story. George falls in love with his best friend. nothing more and nothing less

warnings| my english, angst, fluffy ending, mention of sex and long ranting about George's feelings

author’s note| it's supposed to be a short one. About 1000 words or so, but I got excited. and well, I tried to make it George's pov. because, you know, ✨️his pov✨️. also, it's my first scribbling in two years. enjoy))

He has been with other girls. He'd even said he has been with a lot of other girls.

There were a couple of girls he dated for a while. There were those he just fucked with. A quickie after a Quidditch match won't hurt anyone. It doesn't matter whether he won this match or not. He's well aware of the fact, that girls like him. But none of these so-called relationships were serious. Perhaps this was because he didn't consider any of them as something serious.

He tried this relationship thing because he was curious, what it's like to date a girl. But during his dates, bringing a cup, all painted with tiny violets, to his lips and listening to the chatter of his now ex-girlfriend, he thought that she'd never say such a thing and she'd never order such a lusciously sweet cupcake. And she wouldn't have dragged him to Madam Puddifoot's in the first place.

After smashing Hufflepuff to smithereens on the Quidditch field, he pressed some Ravenclaw's back to one of the walls in the locker room, pounding deep into her, hearing this girl's moans become louder with each thrust. He caught himself thinking about what her moans would sound like. Would she be filthy and loud underneath him or her moans would be more shaky and soft?

He wouldn't say any of these girls were bad, unattractive, or something like that. Just the opposite, all of them were great. But they simply weren't…her. She got deep under his skin, intertwined with his veins, and blossomed in his lungs. She was his Flower. That's how he called her.

George remembers clearly well how it started. No, not his feelings, they started so naturally, that he didn't even notice how he fell for her. George remembers clearly well how he started calling her flower. This happened back in the second year, during History of Magic. He was getting more and more bored by the second in that stuffy classroom. And there was nothing unusual about it. He got bored very easily. So he quietly began scribbling in the corner of her parchment. He remembers the angry look little Y/N gave him as she carefully pushed her piece of paper away from the redhead. She was also bored but did her best to focus on Professor Binns' words. But George continued, all smiling and trying to stifle his giggles caused by her irritation. At some point, his incomprehensible doodles began to look like something that resembled Professor Binns, but his glasses and mustache were abnormally large compared to everything else. She smiled, took George's hand, and carefully drew a tiny flower on his wrist, before returning her attention to Professor. It took him a while to find out what exactly she drew with so neat lines. It looked like an iris or daffodil, he couldn't tell exactly and she didn't know either. But after that she became flower. His flower.

And now George is sitting in the library. He came here to at least start an essay on Potions. Snape become ruthless lately, so it was easier to work in a group on this 5-page assignment about Golpalott's Third Law. That's how he, Y/N, Fred, and Lee ended up in the library. George knew that this was one of her favorite places at Hogwarts. Two and a half hours earlier, when they had passed Madam Pince's stern gaze, he almost unconsciously walked to her favorite table, between the Poetry and Reference sections.

George's re-reading the same sentence in the book for the seventh time. There's something about the idea that a whole product is greater than the sum of its parts, but he can't really understand its meaning because he's thinking about her. It would be more accurate to say that he's thinking about what Lee and Fred had said about her. The evening before, his twin, the only person in this world who was closer to George than Y/N, again claimed that his love was mutual. Fred constantly tried to push him to confess his feelings. His argumentation was always the same. Fred said that he’s older, which means wiser, and he sees everything, how she steals glances at his little shy brother in classes and how she blushes just as much when George is near. But that evening, Lee has added some new information, which George still tries to process and connects with everything else these two have been telling him through the years.

George returns to yesterday in his thoughts. He was lying on his bed again, hopelessly pressing his face into the soft fabric of the pillow, while these two opened the Pandora's box again. Sometimes it seemed to George that they were enjoying this ranting about his 'unrequited' love situation over and over again.

"Ok, look, if she felt nothing but platonic stuff, she'd not be this frustrated when she found out about you and Jane" Lee spoke in a devious voice, getting more comfortable on his bed.

"Wasn't it Jade?" Fred's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Doesn't matter, I mean this Hufflepuff blondie with the ribbon"

"She's Janis" George sighed. He remembered this relationship, which lasted just over a month or so. Janis was nice, but she talked a bit too much. And this black ribbon, which she constantly wore as a headband, pissed him off. He admitted that the ribbon matched well with her uniform and emphasized the brightness of her hair. But something was wrong with it.

"I thought she was Jade"

"Anyway, why are you telling me about this now?" curiosity and a slight note of annoyance were noticeable in George's voice "It was quite a long ago."

"Look, mate. I'm your friend, right?" Lee sat down, crossed his legs, and the blanket crumpled under his weight. One more movement and the red piece of cloth would end up on the floor. "But I'm her friend as well. She knows that I know. And knows that I overheard that conversation of hers. And I promised, I won't blab it to you…But as it turns out, I'm not the best secret keeper and I'm more of a friend to you than to Y/N"

To tell the truth, Lee was a great secret keeper. Just like he was a great friend. This made George seriously wonder why Lee broke the promise. And so unceremoniously 'blabbed' everything to him. What if he's really as blind as he was told and doesn't see obvious things. He doesn't deny the possibility that she liked him too. More precisely, he doesn't want to deny it. He hopes that Y/N also feels something that crosses the boundaries of friendship. Even if her feelings aren't as strong and all-consuming as his. As if time collapses into one tiny speck and explodes at light speed every time George sees her. He hopes for at least something, for at least a tiny feeling, a tiny sparkle in her heart that flares up at the sight of the tall redhead.

Many times he imagined and replayed in his head the moment he would confess his feelings. Tell her how all the sounds around become quiet when he hears her laugh, how each and every touch imprints and burns on his skin. He dreamed, how he would tell how much he loved her, that he could finally be honest and reveal everything that was in his head and heart.

But the younger twin thinks the stakes are too high. And maybe he's right because she thinks the same thing to herself. Even though George wants more, he doesn't want to risk everything he has right now. His eyes begin to water and a lump rises in his throat every time he assumes he could lose Y/N. His flower. He knows her too well to predict what would happen next if his feelings weren't mutual. Their communication will become awkward, they both will be cautious and afraid of saying or doing something wrong. And then, after some time of this weird communication, their connection will fade away. And even if his love is mutual, what if he and Y/N don’t work out as a couple? What then?

He can't let their previous and future years of friendship go down the drain. Y/N was the first person he and Fred met on the Hogwarts Express. And from the very first year and the very first greeting, the three of them became inseparable. Always together.

She wanted to be a prefect, so she avoided detentions and tried not to get involved in their pranks directly. But Y/N was always there, helped to plan each of their mischiefs, assisted with new inventions, and saved him and his brother from professors. George can't remember how many times she rescued them from Filch while she was patrolling the corridors. He was so proud of her last year when she finally received this little silver pin that gave her extra authority and responsibilities.

George can't imagine Christmas without Y/N now. She visits the Burrow every year and his mom adores her. Perhaps because Y/N helps with cooking more than anyone else in this house. But George can imagine in detail how hard his mother would scold him if he suddenly announce that Y/N won't come for winter break this year because he's an idiot and they stopped talking to each other.

It's not Christmas without having a snowball fight with her and Fred in the backyard. At some point, she always tries to throw Fred into the snow. But due to the obvious height difference and Fred's strength privilege, she never succeeds in this. So she's becoming the one who's giggling on the ground, covered with snow. George always laughs at this little performance while his very kind twin scatters her down with even more snow.

George's envious of his brother in some way. Fred has never seen Y/N as more than a friend or a second sister. He's envious that his twin's heart doesn't ache as much as his does. And his older brother doesn't have to make such a difficult decision. No, George doesn't wish his brother pain. No way. He just doesn't want to suffer himself. George understands, that he's not just at risk of losing her, but also at risk of depriving Fred of his best friend too. If he and Y/N don't work out, what will happen to her friendship with Fred? Yes, perhaps they will be able to maintain some thread of communication. But they certainly won’t be best friends like they are now. George wouldn't handle it. He believes that it's better to be content with the small moments he has than to lose everything.

"Where are you going?" Fred's question snaps the younger twin out of his thoughts. He's still in the library and didn’t even notice how the chair next to him became empty, as Y/N headed towards one of the sections.

“I need this book, about…” her words meet Fred's raised eyebrows "I just need another book"

A quiet “uh-huh,” sounds either from Fred or Lee as her back is already hidden between the shelves full of colorful covers.

George looks for a while longer after Y/N. If someone raised their head from studies or books and glanced at the redhead, they would see the gears turning in his head.

“I…” George moves away from the table. Legs of the chair slide across the floor with a quiet rustle. He tries to come up with some kind of a reason, but Lee is faster.

“We got it, loverboy in shining armor, go already and help your princess” In response George groanes, and a quiet "fuck off" slips from his lips as he heads after his 'princess'. He doesn't know why he decided to follow Y/N. He just wants to. Perhaps he simply feels calmer when she's around, she gives him a feeling of warmth and home just by being near.

And there she is, just three bookshelves away. George can understand why she likes spending time in the library, although he doesn't share this sympathy. It's quiet and peaceful here. High ceilings, impressive columns, and alive stained glass windows are throughout Hogwarts, but they look especially charming in this place. Perhaps it's the specific lighting or the huge number of cabinets filled with old parchment and colored bindings. And, to be honest, he likes the smell of books. There is something about that scent that the redhead can't explain.

Y/N walks along the shelf at the end of the bookrack. Her gaze runs along the top row of colored spines, searching for what she needs. Her hair is up in a messy, almost domestic, bun and secured with a wand. But some strands fell down, framing her face and descending down her neck. The tie hangs loosely around her neck. She undid it after half an hour in the library.

George just stands there and admires her for a while, unable to tear his gaze away. It seems to him as if a soft golden glow surrounds each curve of her glorious body. And this light calls him to come closer. None of the other girls looked like her in his eyes. He swallows, breaks out of this perfect trance, and quietly heads to her.

The girl stands on the very tips of her black shiny shoes. Her fingers almost touch that very book on the top shelf. "Why the hell do they always shove the most useful stuff so far away?" Y/N thinks to herself before long fingers touch the cover of the "Ingredient Encyclopedia". She sees as right above her head a familiar freckled hand takes the faded green binding from its place.

"You're welcome, flower" Y/N turns around at the sound of the voice and finds herself trapped between the worn books and George.

The corners of his lips lift slightly and the younger twin can feel the warmth approaching his cheeks. He can't control it and, to be honest, he doesn't care when she's only millimeters away.

Her "Thank you" is so quiet that George isn't sure she actually said it. Their eyes meet, and it seems to redhead that everything that happened next was in slow motion.

She just wanted to take the book. Such an innocent action. She inhales sharply as her fingertips accidentally brush his hand. He feels high-voltage sparks come from this touch and spread further throughout his whole body and explode where his heart is.

They both froze, not breathing and not breaking an eye contact. George could swear he was ready to give everything he had to live in this moment forever. Just standing next to her in an empty section of the Hogwarts library. Looking into her eyes, losing himself in their depths. And feel the warmth radiating from her hand on his.

Earlier, he thought he'd be nervous at a moment like this but he isn't. He just stares at her eyes, then at her parted lips. "George, don’t do it" he repeats to himself. His fingers shudder imperceptibly with the thought of taking her wand from messy hair, so her locks would fall freely on her fragile shoulders. "Control yourself". He's trying, so damn hard trying not to bury his hands into these shiny strands and pull her into a kiss. It takes all his strength not to. And George doesn't know what happened. Was it Y/N's rosy blush and his brother's words about mutuality flashing through his head. Was it her, standing so close that he could smell his amortentia coming from the girl.

But he gives up. George bends down, without even thinking about it, and presses his lips to hers

George pulls away even faster than he has leaned toward her. There is exposed fear in his widely opened eyes. Eyebrows are raised as the realization crushes his thoughts. His mouth opens and closes without making any sound. It seems that he's more shocked by his own action than Y/N herself.

He fucked up. He knows it.

Y\N stands there still. And this is the first time in the redhead's life that he can't read the emotions of his best friend. "Ingredient Encyclopedia" is still in her palm, but George abruptly pulls his hand away, losing all the warmth she provided to him.

"I'm…I'm sorry" is the only thing he mumbles before storming away from the book section, from the library, from her.

George almost knocks down a first-year with a blue tie when he rushes out around the corner. He fucked up. Y/N didn’t respond to his kiss, she didn’t react at all. She just froze in place. George doesn't understand how he could let himself do this. He shouldn't have. He heads towards the huge wooden door with such speed that some students' parchments fly off their desks. He doesn't notice this, nor the questions from Fred and Lee, that meet his broad back, nor the comments of the furious Madam Pince.

She appears around the corner shortly after George, calling his name. She throws the book on the table and quickly walks past her friends. The faded green binding slides across the wooden surface and lands near Lee's inkpot. Another millimeter and the small glass jar would have been knocked down and poured a black liquid onto the pieces of parchment, only half written with essay.

"For Merlin's sake, what is going on?"

“I'll bet you a galleon that George confessed to her and ran away” Fred speaks with a sly grin, shifting his gaze from the hurrying Y/N to his dormmate.

"Too much drama for these two, don't you think?"

"So…?"

"You're on" Lee agrees, moving the book away from his writings. He only managed to write the introduction and the beginning of the first few theses. It was far from 5 pages but it was at least something and definitely more than George wrote.

George walks through the library entrance. He feels like everything is crumbling inside him as he walks. The sound of his heart pounding in the ears muffles the voice calling his name somewhere behind the back.

"George!…"

He is supposed to be happy. He finally did what he had dreamed of for many years. He finally kissed the girl he was so hopelessly in love with. But instead, he feels as if a dozen Dementors attacked him. All of the hope and happiness have been sucked out of the world.

"George!…"

He'd better get away from here as fast as possible. He'd explain himself later. He'd better get to his safe space. But where should he go if he felt safe only next to her?

"George!….for Merlin's sake!….. I can't keep up with you!"

He recalls everything in his head, from what happened a minute ago to the first time he saw Y\N. He understands that all those happy moments, the tenderness, the memories they both made and the plans for the future, are all gone. He's so disappointed and so angry with himself.

"George!…"

"What?!" He stops and turns around, seeing the girl almost running along the empty corridor of Hogwarts, approaching him.

George heard her calling him. But he's not ready to face the consequences. Not now. He needs time to pull himself back together and come up with something. But he gives up. Again.

"What do you wanna hear, Y|N?!" His hands shoot up in a questioning gesture. "That I'm head over heels in love with you? With your damn perfect hair and damn marvelous eyes! With your damn angelic laughter, which drowns out all other sounds for me! And I even with the way your brows frown when you're concentrated!"

"Georgie…" He doesn't seem to notice her soft voice but continues. She wants to say something, but his confession is unstoppable. And she understands this, so she decides to just let him rant.

"Or do you wanna hear that you became a fixed point in my mind where my thoughts always come back to? That I randomly grin to myself like an idiot when I think about anything related to you. I don't know when exactly I fell for you. But it feels like I've always loved you. You're doing something to me, no one else ever could. You make me feel special and not just another poor Weasley or the second clown of Hogwarts. Every damn time you make me feel important because of who I am and not because I'm the beater or I'm the easiest way to get to Fred." His voice became calmer with each sentence. The irritated raised tone turns into his normal deep timbre, and then it will turn into a soft mumbling. " And you make all of my anxiety and worries turn off just by your presence. I was so fucking angry with myself and you did something I dunno how to explain. So now I can't be this angry. And you are…you are just….you"

She stands next to him. Almost as close as it was back then in the library. Perhaps if George wasn't so nervous, he'd realize that he liked the scent of books because it was her scent. Every time she left the library after spending several hours there, she had this slightest scent on her. It mixed with her perfume and shampoo, so it was impossible to separate and difficult to notice it.

"Are you done?" George doesn't know what to do and just nods his ginger head. Then she rises on her tiptoes and neat fingers finds the collar of his white shirt and pulls it towards her, forcing George to lean forward. Her lips touch his. Again. Only for a few seconds but this makes him blush even more, if it's possible. His freckles aren't this noticeable anymore.

The girl pulls away, the heels of her shoes meet the cold floor and her hands slide onto George's chest. But he continues to stand slightly bent forward, batting his eyelashes. She still has to lift her head slightly to look him in the eyes. In the future, this height difference will piss her off sometimes, but he'll enjoy it endlessly, liking this even more every time.

George stares deeply into her eyes, trying to understand what just happened. But he feels that he can breathe again. And somewhere inside, where his soul is, irises and daffodils and all the other flowers start to blossom slowly. Did she really kiss him? But earlier…

"But you've…." His eyebrows furrow as the puzzles are slowly coming together in his head.

"I was taken by surprise" She explains as she watches his face soften, lips rise into a wide grin that he can't stop. And why the hell should he stop it. "And you didn't give me time to understand what's going on"

George covers her hand with his own. That hand that's laying so peacefully on his rapidly beating heart.

“Sorry,” he chuckles, millimeters from her face. She can feel his breath on her lips, like a ghost kiss, dragging the moment before he crushes his lips down on hers into another real one.

Her lips are soft, almost silken, and pillowy against his own. This kiss is not just a peck, like the previous ones. This time George can understand that her lips are not exactly what he thought. Her lips feel thousands of times better than he could ever imagine. He finally feels relieve and all the world's happiness. All the happiness he supposed to feel. Happiness, that had been accumulating for a long time and didn't leave the palace of his dreams, Finally to escape to freedom. His palms find their place around her waist as he pulls her closer, forcing their bodies to collapse into each other, holding each other as tightly as humanly possible. Her hands shoot up to his hair, slowly letting her fingers slip into ginger strands. He kisses Y/N like he has never kissed anyone else before. With all the tenderness and love he has kept locked in his heart till this moment. George doesn’t see this, but he feels how the gray world around him is filled with colors again. The warmth spreads all over his body and his brain stops working properly.

This girl, this bright and breathtaking girl, is his. Their lips moved softly, delicately, and almost innocently before. But Y/N is driving him insane and intoxicate him with the sweet smell of her body. He can feel her hand slide to his nape and she lightly runs fingers up along his neck. Tiny soft moans escape his lips in the surprise of the goosebumps this action sent down his body. As a response, George brings up his freckled hands to cup her face. His calloused fingers caress her flushed cheeks as he nibbles her lower lip, not so hard to hurt, but enough for Y/N to feel it. Now it's her turn to let out a small, barely audible moan, which makes him break out into a shit-eating grin.

The girl gently pulls away, while George still holds her face in his warm hands.

"I love you too, Georgie. And your damn perfect hair and damn marvelous eyes"

Bonus:

He lets out a giggle caused by quoting. He's unable to open his eyes for a few moments after this kiss, a huge smile on his face

"But…"

"But…?" The question sounds teasing even though his voice is hoarse.

"We have an essay to finish. It's due tomorrow, and you haven't even written a sentence yet." she wrinkles her nose in a taunting way.

"Nooooo" Redhead lets out a groan, throwing his head back. "Don't make me do this, Flower"

"I won't write it for you" She kisses his pouty lips as a response to the puppy gaze he gave her. Y/N frees herself from his cozy grip and heads towards the library. "You'd better write at least something unless you prefer scrubbing cauldron instead of…let's say…sneaking into Hogsmeade."

George catches up with her a couple of seconds later. He slightly leans down just for a moment to catch her hand in his and intertwine their fingers.

"Y/N…." he tries this 'puppy gaze trick' again.

"Fine." She sighs in defeat "I will help you with a plan and theses, but you will write it yourself."

George breaks into a smile once again and brings her hand to his lips, leaving kisses on her knuckles. Well, the thesis for Someone's Third Law is at least something. Plus, he’s sure that he’s sure Y/N will write his essay as soon as she finishes hers. And, to be honest, Fred's too.

After some time, when they are a meter from the huge wooden door, George suddenly wonders.

"Galleons or Sickles?"

"What?"

"Galleons or Sickles?" He repeats, opening the door in front of Y/N

"Wait, you're wondering how much they bet on us, aren't you?"

George overtakes the girl, ending up in front of her, and leans down so that their eyes are at the same level. He shoves his hands into pockets and wrinkles his nose therefore mocking Y/N's previous actions.

"I'll bet a Galleon that Lee owes Fred a Galleon"

masterpost

[rizsu]

LOLLIPOPS ꢾ꣒ OLD DREAMS ex!sukuna ryomen x reader.

+ love, ‘su: in this sukuna’s that one ex who just won’t leave you alone bc hes annoying // toji sneak but he's like irrelevant !,×&&÷

the store’s dead. nothing but the whirring of vending machines and the music softly playing from the speakers can be heard. you’ve been behind the counter for the past five hours—you’re sweaty, bored, and experiencing the consequences of sitting on a random upside-down bucket for hours with nothing to support your back besides random moments of fixing your posture.

you double-tap the glass on your phone, sighing as you saw the time. it’s 08:30 p.m exactly, just thirty minutes before you can clock out. time felt slower than usual—the lack of customers and WiFi helped in dragging the time.

rolling your shoulders back, you stretch your neck to the sides, desperately trying to release tension. tension that’ll easily build right back up. there’s truly nothing to do. you’ve made paper airplanes, chewed on half a pack of gum, doodled on the wrappers and gave yourself tattoos, took multiple five-minute naps—the list can go on.

a “ding!” prevents you from succumbing to your boredom. immediately, you fix your posture, dusting off your shirt before you scanned the store for whoever just walked in.

so far, all you’ve seen is a man dressed in knee-length pants, a loose tank top, and an unlit cigarette tucked between his ear as if it were a flower.

another “ding!” came in, effortlessly moving your attention towards the glass doors. another man walked in. this one’s decorated in black from head-to-toe. full-length sweatpants, a hoodie, a cap, and a face mask. with an attire like that, you felt a bit threatened. what if he’s here to rob the village convenience store that runs on life support?

the scenario withers away immediately when you saw him walk to the previous man. seems like they’re friends. shrugging, you grabbed a random flyer from the desk, folding it back and forth to make a makeshift fan.

the men lingered around for a while, strolling through the four aisles before they walked up to the front. the one without the suspicious outfit places his items on the wooden desk: six beers, a pack of cigarettes, and a lighter.

he’s probably in his forties, you mentally judged based on his items.

“your total’s twenty-two dollars.” you bagged his stuff, sliding it towards him once you placed everything in it.

“thanks,” he nods, sliding a twenty-dollar bill and a five-dollar bill your way. “keep the change.”

“‘kay.” you gave him a nod back, not caring about the extra three dollars.

the all-black outfit man didn’t seem to follow his friend, though. you shifted uncomfortably on the bucket, waiting for him to say something, but it looked as though he’s a silent one.

“i clock out in, like, eleven minutes sir. is there something you need?” you questioned, lacing your voice with a touch of attitude.

he takes his cap off, then lowers his mask. the familiar hair colour and tattoos that adorned his face made you audibly show your fight-or-flight reaction. the “oh fuck,” left you quicker than you expected.

“it’s been a minute, yeah?” he spoke, looking down at you.

your face twisted into an expression of disgust before you brought forward the customer-service smile. you remembered that you’re still in the store, and there are unfortunately working cameras.

“been a minute of you wasting my time, sir! please leave!”

“sir?” he tilts his head at the unfamiliar title. were you drawing a line, or were you acting as if you don’t share a history with him.

“yes, sir.”

shifting, he places his hands into his pockets, slightly leaning back to appear nonchalant—as if he’s not bothered by the act you’re putting on.

“y/n l/n, did you really think moving back to your hometown would stop me from coming?” a condescending tone oozes from him. the mention of your full name didn’t fail to make you shiver.

swallowing back the chain of insults that threatened to flow, you dug your nails into your fist, gritting your teeth.

“keep it cute, sukuna.”

“there we go,” sukuna smiles, “i don’t dislike sir, but i prefer my name.”

you automatically rolled your eyes, unfazed by sukuna’s taunting. you’ve been through it for two years, after all.

the sound of the bell followed by the glass doors opening disrupts the moment between you two. the man with the cigarette re-enters the store, looking at his friend up and down with eyes filled with judgements.

“talk about cockblocking,” sukuna mumbles under his breath, waving his friend off before turning his attention back to you. “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“we don’t have enough time for you to be tackling a cashier.” he clicked his tongue, gesturing for his friend to leave his position and exit the store.

you kept quiet, watching the two fade into the darkness of the night the moment they exited. once you were certain you couldn’t make out any figures, you let out a long, exasperated sigh.

“stupid fucking job and a stupid fucking ex.”

──────

sukuna’s a man of his word. you know this—everyone knows it. it’s exactly why you shouldn’t have greeted him with a “what the fuck!?” and slam your apartment’s door in his face. when he said he’ll see you tomorrow, he genuinely meant it. you don’t know how he knew of your apartment complex and your door number, but he’s here now.

poking his inner cheek with his tongue, he gave your door three obnoxious knocks again. the sole purpose of the knocks was to annoy the neighbours which would then pressure you into letting him in. you’ve always been wary of making sure everyone else is comfortable and sukuna’s glad you’re still the same in some ways.

just as he predicted, you quickly opened the door, immediately cursing at him.

“can you be fucking quiet?!” you whisper-yelled, holding onto the damp towel that was once wrapped around your hair.

“if you let me in,” sukuna whispered back, shrugging at your annoyance.

“no.”

a firm rejection. you prepared to close the door (again) with full force but it wobbled back when it met sukuna’s foot that prevented it from being closed on him (again).

“very disrespectful. who raised you?” he clicked his tongue in disapproval, placing a hand on the door to force his way in.

you were ultimately defeated. there was nothing left for you to do but stand there wondering whether it’d be a good idea to report a home invasion with a side of harassment.

sukuna allowed himself to be amazed by your little home. the colours alone scream your name. he observes every detail, ignoring the voice in his head that’s telling him how it would’ve been had you two not break things off.

“nice place.” a compliment.

“tell me something i don’t know, you undiscovered demon.” an insult.

‘undiscovered demon?’ the insult lingers in his mind for a bit. your… peculiar ways of naming people truly surprises him.

ignoring your burning gaze, sukuna takes his shoes off before sitting himself on your sofa. he shuffles a bit to make himself comfortable: leaning his head back, closing his eyes, and stretching both hands on the top edge of the backrest.

a frown decorates your face. walking towards the kitchen, you grab the disinfect spray and sneak up behind him.

feeling you near him, sukuna raises an eyebrow, “got me a drink or what?”

you hummed, fighting back a mischievous smile as you sprayed disinfect like it’s body mist. the attack makes him jolt, turning around to curse at his offender.

“what the fuck was that about?”

“get out of my apartment, sukuna.” you leaned on a leg, placing a hand on your hip to emphasize that you’re serious.

a minute of silence welcomes itself. you can see sukuna thinking about what’s the best action he can do in this moment.

is it: (a) leave like you said to. (b) get back comfortable. (c) suggest something else.

“maybe if you let me reminisce and sleep with you again.”

clearly, he went with option c and a tablespoon of shameless-ness.

“what– wait– huh?!” you spluttered, bewildered at the audacity of the man who claims to have been in a past relationship with you—even when you’ve preached about not knowing him!

sukuna shrugs, shifting around in the sofa to make himself comfortable again. only this time he’s laying down.

“my hand gets tired too–”

“have some class!” you cut him off, throwing your hair towel at him. you can’t ignore the heat that’s settled in the back of your head.

by the time you regained your calm, sukuna’s already on his way to a nap. he even rolled your towel to use it as a pillow.

closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. there’s really no winning with sukuna.

[fxrmuladaydreams]

i didn’t miss it (ln4)

lando norris x reader , oscar piastri x reader (platonic)

summary: lando nearly misses out on wishing his crush a happy birthday

notes: we’re going to say that the reader works for mclaren for convenience sake but i’ll let you decide exactly what the job is

Lando, with the help of Oscar, had everything planned down to a T. After months of pining for you, of sending you longing looks in the paddock, of making sure that he could take his lunch around the same time you took yours just so he could eat with you, of practically stalking your social media, of staying longer at McLaren at night so he could “conveniently” be there to walk you to your car, he was finally going to confess his feelings to you.

Oscar was proud. Well, he was happy he wouldn’t have to hear Lando drone on and on about you anymore. He liked you just fine, but Lando was very clearly head over heels for you.

It was strange seeing Lando act this way. Oscar had heard that Lando was a bit of an introvert, but he had never really experienced it firsthand. He had always been a friend to Oscar, an older brother type. Then there were his relationships with the other drivers, Lando was quite popular, half the grid claimed he was their best friend. But as soon as you were anywhere near the older McLaren driver all of that went out the window. He turned into a shy, blushing boy, who fidgets with his fingers and can’t seem to look you in the eyes for longer than a minute.

Birthdays were a big celebration at McLaren. Lando’s and Oscar’s were usually met with loud fanfare and cameras so that the fans could see the drivers celebrating. But even all of the other members of the team had parties when it was their birthday, complete with a cake, a rousing chorus of an off-key happy birthday, and essentially a break in the usually chaotic workday.

Lando had your birthday marked down. It was in the calendar on his phone, there were little doodles around the date on the calendar in his house, he even had a reminder set for it just to make sure he wouldn’t forget.

The plan was simple really, you would have your little McLaren party at work, then go out to a nice dinner with Lando and Oscar. Oscar would stay for a little while but eventually excuse himself for not feeling well, leaving you alone with Lando. He was going to use the romantic atmosphere to confess his feelings, and hopefully you’d tell him that you felt the same and within the week you would be the paddock’s new favorite couple.

What Lando hadn’t expected was to wake up late that morning, rushing to get ready in an attempt to get to work on time, not sparing the calendar on his wall a glance. He didn’t expect his meetings to run longer than expected, pushing his time on the simulator back as well.

You found him hunched over a table in the break area, quickly scarfing down a wrap.

“Hey Lando, are you okay?” You ask, sitting down next to him.

He wipes the crumbs away from his mouth with a napkin, then looks over to you. “Yeah, I’m good, just, busy day, you know?”

You smile, sure he’s alluding to the fact that it’s your birthday. You’re about to bring up how much you’re looking forward to dinner with him and Oscar as he stands up and starts gathering his trash.

“I have to go get some laps done on the sim, but I’ll see you later, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for a reply before leaving you alone with your lunch.

You feel giddy as you’re led from your work area in the afternoon to the lobby area of the building. The lights are low as you walk in, and the brightness when they’re turned on is close to blinding.

You grin as McLaren employees all give a resounding “Happy Birthday!” shout, but your heart sinks a little when you search for the familiar head of curls and only manage to find Oscar who gives you a small smile.

He finds you later in the gathering, pulling you aside to talk privately.

“Happy birthday Y/n.” He says, pulling you into a hug.

You return the hug, wrapping an arm around his frame. “Thank you Oscar.”

When you pull away there’s a moment of awkward silence. You’re close to both the drivers, your job requires that you be, but you were arguably closer to Lando than Oscar.

“I don’t know where he is, I’m sorry.”

You don’t have to ask to know that he’s referring to his teammate. You plaster on a smile and shrug your shoulders.

“It’s alright. If he’s busy, he’s busy. I’ll see him at dinner.”

“Definitely.” Oscar nods.

While you were downstairs eating cake, Lando was upstairs, completely unaware, driving lap after lap in the sim. Music blared in his ears coming from his headphones that he’d put on, in hopes that it would help him concentrate and get some good lap times.

He was doing well, practicing on the Singapore track over and over until his music cut out. He finished his lap, then looked down at his phone. The screen was dark, and didn’t turn on when he’d pressed any buttons. Great, his phone had died.

He took that as a sign that he’d spent enough time working. He logged his final times, then gathered his things and headed towards his car.

The parking lot was nearly empty, most everyone having already gone home for the day. A few stragglers left as well, wishing him a goodnight.

As soon as he’d made it home, he threw himself down on his bed. He was exhausted after having run around like a headless chicken all day from meeting to meeting to meeting to sim practice. He felt like he could sleep for a week.

He reached for his phone, plugging it into it’s charger before he lets his head fall back against the pillow and lets sleep consume him.

The restaurant that the drivers were meant to bring you to is nice, overtly so. It’s dimly lit, the servers all wear matching vests and ties, and the clientele are equally as dressed up.

Oscar sits across from you, an awkward smile resting on his face. He looks uncomfortable, his eyes constantly dart between the door to the restaurant and his phone in his lap. He sighs as he types something out on his phone, then looks back up at you.

He opens his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it.

“He’s not coming, is he?” You ask.

Oscar gives you an apologetic smile. “I can’t get a hold of him.”

You can feel a tightening feeling in your chest as you shake your head. “That’s okay. We can still have a nice dinner.”

You try to make the most of your meal, talking with Oscar about the season so far and the upcoming races. You tell him about fun things you’ve done in the upcoming cities, usually accompanied by Lando and Daniel back when he was still at McLaren.

You leave the restaurant with Oscar, giving him a quick hug and a thank you before you separate to your cars.

Once home you change into your pajamas and lay down in bed. You check your phone and see happy birthday texts from various people, even some drivers from other teams. You scroll to your messages with Lando, and sigh when you see nothing.

You didn’t expect anything big from him, you had just hoped for at least a text from him. Maybe an apology for missing out on your party at the office and for ditching you at dinner.

Lando awoke to an incessant dinging sound coming from his phone. He groaned, and rolled over, trying to go back to sleep, but his phone would not stop sounding off.

He slung his arm over to grab it, and looked at all of the notifications he had.

7 missed calls from Oscar

23 new messages

He furrowed his brows as he opened his texts. There were two texts from Max.

Did you do it?

I’m going to assume you did it and it went well if you’re too busy to text back

Then 21 messages from Oscar, the first few from that afternoon.

Are you coming down soon?

Where are you?

Party’s over, I guess we’ll see you at dinner

Then more from this evening.

Seriously man where are you?

Are you on your way?

When did you leave the office?

The varying texts all have essentially the same message, until he reads the most recent three.

We had a plan

She’s trying to put on a brave face but I know she wants to see you

You’ve been missing all day and now you don’t show up to dinner?

Dinner. He can practically feel his heart in his throat. He checks his calendar on his phone, and there on today’s date, in all uppercase lettering it says “Y/N’S BIRTHDAY”

He scrambles out of bed, grabbing a hoodie, and runs for the door. He throws himself in his car and speeds to your house. He’s surprised he isn’t pulled over by anyone on the way there.

He sprints from his car to your front door, knocking a little too aggressively for someone showing up at your apartment in the pitch black night.

Your heart startles at the loud knock on your door. You slowly make your way too it, then look through the peephole. Lando stands outside, fidgeting with his hands as he waits for you to answer the door.

You open it, giving him a questioning look. “Lando?”

“Happy birthday!” The words tumble out of his mouth as soon as he sees you.

“What?”

He looks down at his phone, the time reading 11:57 pm. “Happy birthday. I didn’t miss it.” He holds his phone up so you can see the time.

“Thank you Lando. Did you drive all the way over here just to tell me happy birthday? You know you could’ve just sent me a text…” You tell him.

He’s at a loss for words, he knows he could’ve, but it wouldn’t have been the same. He’d already ruined what was meant to be a special night, he couldn’t possibly imagine not really seeing you at all today.

“Do you want to come in? I’ve got some leftover cake from the party.” You step to the side when he nods.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he steps inside your apartment. He follows you as you lead him to the kitchen, pulling out the cake you had mentioned.

Most of it is missing. He can see the left side of the McLaren logo with letters that read “Hap Birt” and the first few letters of your first name. You hand him a slice and a fork.

The two of you eat the cake quietly on opposite sides of the kitchen, unsure of what to say to the other. The silence is only broken when Lando takes a breath, then starts speaking.

“I’m sorry for missing your party. And dinner.”

You stop eating the cake and shrug your shoulders. “It’s okay. There will be other parties, other dinners.”

Lando scoffs. “Right.” He stabs at the cake with his fork, just moving it around his plate.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look up at you. You step over to him and lean against the counter.

“Lando, what’s wrong?”

He sighs. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

You brush a hand over his arm. The soft orange fabric bunches up a little against your hand as you feel the toned muscle in his bicep.

“I don’t believe you. You know you can tell me what’s wrong. It’s just me.” You say.

Your voice is sweet, and is close to lulling him into a sense of security, but then he remembers how tonight should’ve gone.

“That’s the problem. It’s you. And I’ve somehow managed to fuck it all up.” He groans, dropping his head into his hands.

“What do you mean?”

He looks up at you. You can see unshed tears start to form in the soft blue eyes you love. It takes everything in you to not lean forward and softly wipe them away.

“Tonight was supposed to be special. I was going to celebrate with you, then go to dinner with you. But instead I had a shit day where I was so busy that I completely forgot what day it was. So I missed the party, and I didn’t even show up to dinner, so Oscar couldn’t leave and-”

“Why would Oscar leave?”

Your question makes him freeze. His mouth opens and closes as if he’s searching for something to say, but just can’t seem to find the right words.

He stutters, then asks “What?” as if he didn’t hear your question.

“Lando, why would Oscar leave?” You ask him again, this time slowing your words down.

He runs a hand through his hair as his eyes meet the ground in front of him.

“Oscar was going to leave so that we could have dinner together… you and I…” his voice is soft, just barely a murmur.

Your heart skips in your chest. “Lando-”

“And I missed it. I can’t believe it. I had so many reminders set up so that I wouldn’t forget it. That’s why I came here, so that I could tell you,” he looks at his phone “but now it’s after midnight, so it’s not even your birthday anymore.” His words come out quick. He’s rambling, too afraid of what you’ll say to give you a chance to speak. “It was a stupid idea anyways. Why would I even think that there would be any chance that you’d feel the same way I do? Especially when I can’t even keep track of the day-”

His words are cut off when you lunge forward to press your lips to his. They taste sweet, like the cake you had been eating. Your hands softly cup his face, brushing against the scruff he’s started to grow out.

His hands hover in the air awkwardly, unsure of what to do, or if this is really happening. It only clicks when he feels you start to pull away, the warmth of your body moving away from his triggers something in him as he plants his hands on your hips pulling you back to him.

He kisses you now, his lips moving confidently against yours as he pulls you impossibly closer to him.

You’re both out of breath when you reluctantly pull away from one another. His lips are pink and a little swollen. You can’t imagine yours look much different.

“I do have feelings for you Lando.” You lean your forehead against his.

He smirks, a newfound confidence taking over. “Really? I couldn’t tell.”

You lightly push on his chest, escaping his hold. “Go away.” You laugh.

He’s quick to wrap his arms around you, holding you against his chest. His eyes travel down to your lips, then he gives you another quick kiss. His smirk is replaced with a grin when he pulls away. “Never.”

[mlyscha]

hello! I wanted to request a riki fic inspired by the song from the start by laufey! like in a high school au. I'm so sorry if my explanation is off I'm not good at that stuff 😞 I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!

𝒰𝗇𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽, 𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖿𝗂𝖾𝖽!

( ENHYPEN ── 𝒻𝗼𝗿. 𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐎 ) ౨ৎ ℐ𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 . . . you loved riki from the start, suffering the consequences of it. 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾 : angst. 𝓌𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌! unrequited love, reader and riki's family is vaguely implied to be wealthy, heeseung is reader's older brother & interpretative ending. ( 𝗐𝖼. 38OO ) 𝓮𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗮' … 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽, 𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋-𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾 ༘ . 𝒻! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋.

( 愛 ) 𝒻𝗿𝗼𝗺. @starizzm ⸝⸝

𝒶-𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲. OMG I LOVED WRITING THIS REQUEST!! as i was listening to from the start by laufey, lots of ideas just began to pop in my head lolz i hope you enjoy reading this and thank you for your compliment >< you're always so sweet! <3

𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍! ♡ 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾&𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀&𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍.

TODAY FELT LIKE ANOTHER TRIVIAL day at school. you haven't done much besides thinking about your crush: nishimura riki. he is your brother's classmate and you have known him since you were a little girl.

so little that, even though you two have never talked for more than a half an hour alone, you fell in love. you remember sneaking into your neighbour's garden and stealing fresh flowers to gift him or how often you asked you mother to make sugar biscuits; so you could give it to him and hopefully make your brother's best friend fall in love with you. and you remember how often you dreamed of confessing as if you two were ditto.

you were written something down on your notebook when you heard someone entering the classroom, quickly occupying the seat in front of you. everything happened so suddenly that you couldn't even process how close that person was from you.

and then, that deep voice of your crush echoed, fitting itself in the room like a glove. "what are you doing, flower?" the way that pet name came out of his mouth made your heart pound. you looked up and replied: "i am just doodling and writing... i am kind of bored..." you say, but then at the same second you frown.

"what happened to you? are you sick?" you watched riki frowning this time. "what do you mean, silly?" he chuckled, holding your hand. "i am just talking to you," you hum in understatement, gulping down tightly as you felt his thumb rub the back of your hand.

"what are you doing?" you asked, making him chuckle again. "i am sensing you are not a fan of affection..." riki says, and as soon as you realised he was about to leave your hand, you grabbed his and held it. "oh...? so you do like affection, flower..." you look down, embarrassed by his teasings.

thinking all of that situation was weird, you question him: "what do you want? i am not writing your essay again, neither do your history homework! you're a grade above me anyway..." you disengaged and he scoffed. "it's a pity how little you think of me, beautiful..."

"why are you calling me that...?" "you are curious little one aren't you?" he smirks, looking down at you and cupping your cheeks after standing up from the chair, standing in front of you. "y/n, you want to know a little secret?" riki asks you in a alluring voice, making you nod as you focus on him. he smiles before leaning his head closer to your face. "you have to keep this secret, okay?" you nodded again, hypnotised. "good," he pauses. "i am in love with yo..."

THE SOUND OF YOUR ALARM has you falling from bed, whining as you hit your face on the ground. "ouch!" you groan. "you fell from your bed again, y/n?!" your brother's voice reached your room from the bathroom. "what do you think?!" you yell back, standing on your feet with a grumpy face. "by your face i would assume: yes." he says, walking in your room.

"go shower and get yourself ready, you stink," when he was just about to walk out of your room, he adds: "and, i almost forgot that riki is picking us up, make sure to get ready in a blink of an eye!" finally, he leaves the room and lets you have some space to process what he has said.

hearing that name you recapped the dream you have just waken up from. you were used to dreaming about him confessing to you. however, you weren't sure why your dreams always finished before he could say: "you"── odd, but nothing to be worried about.

after a big stretch you began your day by taking a quick shower and dress up; following the next step which is make up. after finishing all steps, you sprayed some perfume and went downstairs to have breakfast with your family.

"hello, sweetheart! how was your sleep?" you mum asks you, placing a small peck on your cheek. "uh, great, and yours?" "could've be great if your father and i didn't have to plan our next business trip," you mother sigh. "i wish i could spend more time with you and your brother..." "stop being dramatic!" your father jokingly says, making your mum gasp but laugh.

"oh, i made your favourite biscuits, y/n!" "really?!" your eyes widened a bit, excited about giving them to riki. "of course! make sure to share with your friends, okay?" you hummed making your mum smile.

A SHORT TIME AFTER BREAKFAST riki arrived at your house just in time── his private driver driving the three of you. you were sat on the right while heeseung sat between you and riki. you were holding the small tupperware your mum put the biscuits with a tight grip, holding yourself to hand it to riki 'till lunch time.

the drive was calm, yet, awkward── like usual ──since you kept yourself quiet while your brother and his friend kept talking.

the exact moment three of you entered school, a group of girls stopped to greet riki and your brother── since both of them are pretty popular among the girls. and you? you stood there awkwardly existing, admiring how communicative your crush were; even though he has this nonchalant personality.

your chest hurt: realising he has never smiled to you as pretty as he just smiled to a girl walking beside him. her name is yoonchae, and she is the prettiest girl you have ever seen in your life. you looked away once riki turned to glance at the sight burning his skin through his white uniform shirt.

once you reached your classroom, like the usual, your brother stopped in front of the door, watching you wave at him── secretly hoping riki would do the same like the old times when kids: but he has never done since he turn into a grown up.

heeseung sensing your disappointment, he nudged the japanese boy with his elbow, discreetly nodding his head at your seated figure. you quickly turned your head away from the sight of them, embarrassed.

however, you heard the familiar deep voice call your name: "hey, y/n," you looked over at him. "have a great class today!" he said, giving you a closed smile, lacking enthusiasm. you shyly smiled and nodded your head, thanking him while trying to hold in the pain of being shoot with a cupid's arrow.

your brother glanced at you and smiled and that smile of his always makes you feel that he knew how much you liked his best friend (deep inside). and even though it is indeed something easy to see, you thought you kept things discreet and simple── until you turned seven and realised how obvious you were mostly of the time.

"hi, pookie!" your best friend poked you. "what ya' thinking about?" she asked, sitting on her desk by your side. "nothing much, mei..." you reply, pursing your lips. she hums.

"is it riki again? who got you upset? what did he do?!" mei squinted her eyes, ready to fight the black haired boy. "he has done nothing," you let out a nasal chuckle. "like usual..." you roll your eyes, sighing.

your friend pouted, worried about you once she realised how down you looked. "y/n, if you keep liking him i will-" "what if i tattoo his name on my forehead?" you glance over mei, who leans her head back and turns back to you in shock.

"what?! are you serious? i mean, you can tattoo his name, but not on your forehead!" "mhm... what if i boil write his name on a paper and boil it in water?" you suggest excitedly. "oh my god, y/n, think on something else!" "something else? like... hypnosis?" "no!" she kisses her teeth. " what if you just confessed to him?!"

your shoulders tensed up and your face dropped. you sighed, pondering. "i think i am not rea-" "don't tell me you're not ready── liking him for more than a decade! you can't be serious right now!" mei argues.

"i know, mei, i am just..." you look down to your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. "scared," "but-" "can we talk about this later?" you look at your friend with pleading eyes and she purses her lips, feeling empathy. "sure, i just don't want to see you hurt, okay?" she smiles, covering your hands with hers.

YOU AND MEI WERE JUST about to walk out of the class to grab lunch, when your brother walked in with riki and yoonchae── that girl from earlier. "let's have lunch together?" "ye-yeah, i was just about to look for you guys," you reply. "you didn't even have to come up here anyway." heeseung chuckles. "just making sure you eat, alright? let's go."

you noticed how close riki and that girl looked, smiling at each other like sneaky lovers just hiding secrets.

your brother's arm was placed across your shoulders, snuggling you closer to his chest, somehow trying to turn your face away from the sight of them. meanwhile, mei kept walking by your side, chatting with you and your brother enthusiastically. however, the only thing you could think about and notice yoonchae and your crush walking side by side a few steps behind.

"can i eat those biscuits too?" your brother's voice echoed. you glanced down to the small biscuits tupperware you were holding. "what do you think?" you sarcastically ask him. humming, he replies: "i think because i am your brother i can have all of them," heeseung steals it from you, holding it high from your reach.

you scoff, mocking his childish action, completely ignoring his teases. "give it back," you display your palm, waiting for him to hand it back to you── in which he did, frowning as mei and him traded confused eye sights, thinking that your behaviour was curious.

WHILE SITTING ON THE CAFETERIA'S bench, heeseung and your friend couldn't stop looking at each other while watching your quiet behaviour, since you were always more comfortable to be yourself/talkative when your best friend was there.

heeseung gestures to your friend, signalising he wanted to talk to her. "guys, i'll buy something sweet, alright? i'll be right back," heeseung said── the three of you nodding. standing up from the bench, he glances at your friend.

"oh, really? i'll go with you then, i am craving something sweet!" mei felt you holding her hand, asking her to not leave. "it's going to be fast," "i am going with you," "no, finish your lunch, otherwise you'll fell sick." and then she follows your brother to a corner, doing her best to ignore your pleading eyes.

"gosh, this conversation better be quick── otherwise i think i might die," mei says, looking at you sitting there while hugging yourself. "okay, do you know anything? i mean, did y/n tell you something?"

"ugh, i hate this because-" she glances at heeseung with a scrunched nose, pondering if she should tell him. "heeseung, you have to promise me you won't tell y/n i told you this, but..." mei sighs before revealing: "y/n likes- no, i mean, she loves riki. a lot." she explains. "and i think this has something to do with him being close to yoonchae,"

"i knew it!" he whispers-yells and mei's eyes widens. "i were almost sure you knew, but i didn't know you were that enthusiastic about it," she says. "anyway, what should we do to help her then?" "you got my number right?" he asks and she cocks a brow, nodding. "good, we can discuss about it later-"

"discuss what?" "AHHHH!" "OH MY GOD, Y/N!" "you scared us!" "were you guys talking about me?" "WHAT?!" heeseung and mei looked at each other like accomplices, nervously pondering what do say. "look, y/n-"

"don't tell me..." you gasped. "you two were making out?!" both of them became silent, processing. "i kne-!" "you knew nothing because there is nothing going on! let's go back, y/n!" mei began to walk you back to the table, looking angrily back at heeseung while he discreetly laughed.

THE BELL RANG, MAKING EVERYONE feel relieved and happy that another busy day at school finished. you sighed as you began to pack your belongings.

"are you good to go?" your best friend asked, patiently waiting for you to leave class with her. you nodded, standing up from your chair and hanging your backpack on your shoulder. "ugh, i can't wait to go home!" mei groans, grasping onto your arm as both of you walk out of class. "do you want a ri-"

"y/n!" your brother's voice echoed through the halls and you couldn't help but roll your eyes with annoyance, looking back where the voice came from. "where are you going not waiting for me?"

"what do you mean? we are going to the same house, i don't need to wait for you like a little girl." you glance over at the japanese boy standing beside heeseung, focus on his phone── texting someone.

heeseung, meanwhile, just chuckled at your attitude. "stop acting like this, bubs," he messes up with your hair. "let's go, shall we?" he nudges riki with his shoulder and you frown your brows a little bit.

THE RIDE BACK HOME WAS quiet, just like earlier. riki and heeseung kept talking and like the usual you kept quiet, holding onto your biscuit's tupperware── untouched.

once the car parked in front of your house, you and heeseung exited the car, thanking riki. the japanese boy smiled, saying it was nothing and wishing a good night.

walking in your house, the smell of fresh savoury food reached you from the entrance. "honey! the kids arrived!" your mum's sweet voice came from the kitchen, calling your father. "hello, my babies," your mother greeted both of you, picking up the thrown backpacks and putting it away in a basket. "alright, both of you go shower so we can have dinner, okay?"

GOING DOWNSTAIRS FOLLOWING THE DELICIOUS smell trail, you encountered your whole family united at the dinning room, organising the dinner table. "oh, hello, sweetie," your mum's sight laid on you. "take a seat!" she says with a big smile.

"how was class today?" your dad ask both of you. "good," "normal," "how boring! here, i made steak today to help on your guys 'teenager mood'," she jokes and the old man laughs. "teenager mood is a great one!" he says and your mum chuckles. "i know," she pauses as she sits on the table. "help yourselves!"

even though you were considerably hungry, the sight of riki that touchy with another girl bothered you. it's not like you two have something even that special that could make you worry that much, but you── unfortunately ──had big expectations since a kid against your relationship with him. it hurts. it really does.

you weren't expecting to ever have to experience an awkward silence with him as much as you began experiencing. you weren't expecting to be looked at like you were nothing but a burden when it's just the two of you and no one else in the room. you weren't expecting to be nothing either.

"how about you, y/n?" your mother's voice echoed, waking you up from your trance. "oh? yeah, it is..." "you haven't touched your food yet," heeseung wheezed, leading to a dirty look from you. "just the thought of you is delicious!" you explain yourself, making your mum chuckle. "it's okay, honey, just eat."

"oh, i noticed you haven't eaten the biscuits i have baked this morning, sweetie... did it taste bad?" your mum asked apprehensive. you sigh, smiling. "no, mum, i just had a upset stomach..." "oh... okay..."

"is there any interesting girl in your school, son?" your father questions your brother. "that i am liking? no, not at the moment," heeseung shrugs. "has your friend found anyone?"

you choke on your water, coughing uncontrollably. your mother pats your back and asks if you were okay. "excuse me," you say, standing up from your seat and sprinting to the bathroom.

once you locked yourself in the bathroom, you soaked your face with water, trying to process the question you weren't ready to hear the answer── thinking about the possibly right answer leaving your brother's mouth scared you.

you stood there in front of the mirror for a good three minutes, leaving the room with a deep breath, recomposing yourself and finishing dining with empty thoughts.

YOU WERE UPSTAIRS IN YOUR room finishing the book you have read a few times before. feeling a sense of boredom, you made your way to your brother's room, knocking on his door.

"so that's what i tol- oh wait a second, bro, y/n is here," heeseung opened the door while holding his phone up at his ear. "what is it, missy?" putting his phone down, he gently pulls you in to enter, shutting the door as you did so.

"i am kind of bored── just wanted to make a little visit," heeseung frowns. "okay? lay down, i am doing a school project." "i won't bother," you surrender yourself, plopping on his bed.

while laying on heeseung's bed, you started to feel sleepy. something about the soothing voice he was talking to behind the phone and the noise his keyboard was making── everything so relaxing. with that, you took advantage of the environment and decided to take a nap before returning to your room later.

however, you began to hear a suspicious conversation brewing, growing your earbuds as soon as you heard: "you know, yoonchae has texted me earlier saying that," riki paused, the noise of sheets echoing from the phone── like he were moving himself around. "- she wanted to make it official soon," he sighs. "and now, i am not sure what to do..."

"what do you mean? you told me you were in love with her like... yesterday and for the past three months...?" "i know but-" he takes another deep sigh. "i know she is pretty, we have the greatest connection, she is smart as fuck── like: straight up, perfect, but now i don't know how i should make it official, you know? what if i don't reach her expectations?"

"riki, if she likes you, she won't accept anything less than your best, that's all i have to say." you heard your crush whining. "i'll see what i can do then."

"are you planning to ask her when?" "i think," riki paused, humming as he though. "this weekend── i'll probably ask her out on a date and confess; give her a ring and all."

"okay, i got to go now, it's getting late and y/n is sleeping on my bed," you heard riki chuckling. "alright, see you tomorrow." "see you, bro, good luck."

once you heard heeseung standing up from his chair you closed your eyes shut── feeling a few tears streaming down, wetting a already soaked spot on your brother's bed; from all the tears that have streamed down your face the moment you began to hear their conversation.

"y/n? wake up, go back to your-" "i am awake," you opened your eyes, slowly sitting on the edge of his bed. "oh...? were you?" you watched your brother's voice shaky and his throat swallowing dry.

do you recognise the sound of glass shattering? and how about the pain after it hits you? it hurts right? it hurts even more when the glass shattering is your heart and a stupid sharp piece of it stabbing your chest a billion times, leaving you numb── paralysed. not even your tears being felt at this point.

"since-?" "since everything." you stood up from his bed, standing on your toes while sobbing. "you knew, didn't you?" you scoffed in disbelief. "you always knew how much i liked him..." "y/n, you know all i do is to protect yo-"

"SHUT UP!" you snap. "YOU ALWAYS TREAT ME LIKE A FUCKING KID!" you take a few steps back from where you brother stood, disgusted. "that's why riki never perceived me as a woman... IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" suddenly, you felt big arms hugging you. "it's all your fault..." you sob as you grow weak.

"you don't mean it..." "i mean it," you whisper. "I FUCKING MEAN IT!" you try to push him away from you, but he doesn't let you do that, holding you tighter. "i am sorry, i am so sorry."

the last thing you remember is being held by your brother while crying your eyes off.

YOU WERE SITTING ON THE bench of a nearby park, appreciating the sunset view while trying to forget what has happened. you woke up today feeling blue and with swollen eyes, deciding to call it a day and refusing to go to school.

suddenly you feel a presence by your side: riki. "are you okay? heeseung told me you were going to be here and that i should've pick you up." he asks and you look away. "aren't you going to talk to me?" you kept quiet. "is that so? mhm... look at me then," you feel his thumb brush against the skin of your neck, gently pulling it to look at you.

"did i do something that bothered── bothers you?" you glance at him with teary eyes. "why are you crying?" he runs his thumb against the blush of your cheeks.

"you lied to me..." you say with a weak voice, muffled like. "you lied to me saying that you would like me someday..." you watch him frown. "what do you mean, y/n?" "you told me you would like me the day i confessed to you." "oh? that? you were six and i was eight, what did you expect? i thought you were joking," he chuckles.

"but i wasn't kidding── at all," you sniffled. "yesterday you and heeseung broke my heart..." you confess. "i should've known better," you chuckle, feeling pathetic. "the way you look at me stabs me like the sharpest knife." "what do you...?" "like a reminder you don't feel the same."

a few seconds into an awkward silence you confess: "i loved you from the start, riki," "y/n, i-" "since day one; my whole life, riki! i can't stop thinking about you since we were kids!"

YOU SLOWLY WOKE UP FROM your dream yelling something you couldn't recover. you look around your room but immediately lay your head down on your pillow, staring to the blue while thinking about the dream you just had── different from many others where riki always tried to tell you a secret.

therefore, this time, since this time he hasn't mentioned anything about this secret, you thought for a little bit and realised you might have already found out── that he likes yoonchae. so that 'yo' was never supposed to sound close to 'you'... wow, how depressing.

© 𝓪𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝓮, 𝗺𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗮 𝗌𝓽𝓾𝖽𝗂𝗈𝓼. ⋆ 24.

[north-noire]

My Michael Afton throughout the years! ft. his own little doodles. I'll try to be brief about the timeline and how my Michael was without saying too much since it'll be explored in the Hidden Hands AU fic's chapters anyway so I won't say all the details. Feel free to read if you guys like! I have a lot to say about him.

1983 (FNAF 4) - Michael was 12 or 13-ish when the Bite happened. Very reckless yet adventurous kid. Didn't really hate Evan (William, as much as he had a soft spot for Evan, still loved Michael all the same), just had really bad friends and influence (his friends were mostly bullies) - and didn't really like that he's being told to parent a little brother he had no idea how to take care of. It didn't help that Evan tended to be a tattle-tail sometimes about the trouble he was getting into. Michael also, deep down, got scared of what the bullies would do to him if he dared stand up for his brother or spoke out against them, so he ends up going along with what they did for his own sake. After the Bite, Michael was still deeply guilty about what he did to Evan, and it haunts him every night, knowing he had no good excuse but irresponsibility for what he did to his brother, because after all, it wasn't like William wasn't giving him enough attention. Michael just knew that he deserved anything unfortunate coming to him, but is genuinely surprised that his father kept telling him he loved him all the same. From this point on, he becomes easily troubled, tends to stay close to his dad. Makes sure he follows the rules and doesn't do trouble. Just wants to do a complete personality shift, and is deeply ashamed of who he was before. 1985 (Charlie's death, Fredbear's Family Diner shuts down) - Michael was 15 here. Over the years, he slowly isolated himself from most of the people in his life since he gets worried about his past scars coming back to haunt him. Mostly a recluse and reserved. He's not handling things well after Charlie's death and a family divorce - not to mention the non-existent social life he had. Just prefers to be left alone, but he's nice if you get to know him. Doesn't really have a good relationship with Elizabeth, but is actually pretty close with William. Feels extremely guilty and hates himself/blames himself for Charlie's death. He gets paranoid easily, as he thinks whoever took Charlie is now after him, but his father tells him to not worry too much about it. 1987 (FNAF 2) - (17) Slowly having a good relationship with Elizabeth. Starts to get into stuff like the supernatural and becomes superstitious to a degree over the years. In public, he's mostly polite and nice, but his actual personality shows through whenever he's with his father or Elizabeth - he's sarcastic, and has quite a dark sense of humor, can be a bit of a rebel, he's just more subtle about it. A bit of an over-thinker - he gets lost in his imagination/head easily. Has a (surprisingly) good relationship with his dad, as he's not really afraid to be himself around him - sometimes gifts him funny things or something he knows his dad would love/would use (he gifts William a rabbit's foot - for good luck, he says). He also helped William build the Fun-Times with blueprints and other technicalities (He's not really aware of the questionable features they had, unfortunately). He couldn't really come with his father and Elizabeth on Circus Baby's Pizza World opening due to things he had to catch up with his home-schooling, he had been skipping classes to work on the Fun-Times, but he really wanted to graduate highschool with a bang, so he's giving everything his all, here. Then Elizabeth suddenly goes missing all of a sudden, and, well... I would say more, but my fic sort of takes a canon-divergence route around FNAF 2/SL-FNAF 1 so that would spoil half of the stuff I've been working/writing about! Reference-sheet wise, I just wanted to show how he progresses from a rebellious, happy and adventurous kid into a more reclused, anxious and soft-spoken adult. Sorry for the long post! I've just been wanting to talk about him for some time now. There's a looot more that I've left out but yeah that's because there will be more in the fic!

[cottonlemonade]

Hello! I hope you’re having a good day/night can I order off menu B. I would like a cherry juice with a matcha roll please! Sitting next to either Oikawa or Iwaizumi please ^-^

Secret Admirer

word count: 1086 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: Iwaizumi x chubby!Reader (feat. Oikawa)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: fluffy, secret admirer with crush Iwaizumi, as manager

You paused when you unzipped your bag and after a moment’s confusion looked around. The last few stragglers of the team just left, laughing and talking, racing each other to the showers. Turning back to your bag you fished out the two folded pieces of paper that lay on top of your books. One was a simple sheet of gridded paper, seemingly torn from a notepad. One side was a little crumpled like it had been ripped rather hurriedly. The other one was neatly folded into a square, the four corners each adorned with a little heart in red ink.

You unfolded the first, plain looking paper and read. With each line your eyes grew wider and you felt your heart pounding all the way up in your throat. A love letter! No, a love note - as it was rather short. At first you thought someone must have made a mistake - this was most likely supposed to be for someone else - but it said your name at the very top. It described how the author of the note had been in love with you since you gave Kyotani a piece of your mind for not working well with the rest of the team and causing injuries with his recklessness (upon which the wing spiker had mumbled an apology and bowed half-heartedly to the other players).

It ended with a simple declaration of calling you “cool and pretty” and then apparently, whoever it was, didn’t think it necessary to sign a name. Still giddy from the first, you opened the second letter. Now this one was… a bit more out there. You frowned as you read. It was undoubtedly written by a boy judging by the handwriting but the hearts and cute little doodles along the page confused you. Maybe it was a first year? But this one also had your name at the top and even written on the back so there was no doubt that it found the right recipient. However, it felt a lot more like a joke which made you doubt the authenticity of the first letter. What if some first years thought it would be funny to tease the chubby manager with thoughts about not just one but two secret admirers?

Your mood darkened and with a sigh you crumpled up both the notes and tossed them into the trash on your way out.

The next day you tried to push the whole thing out of your mind. Chatting with your friends over lunch you told them about the notes and they agreed that it sounded like a dumb joke and you did the right thing by throwing them out.

In a free period, the third years went to the gym for cleaning duty. Hanamaki and Matsukawa made a competition out of mopping the floor while Iwaizumi and Oikawa took out the trash after cleaning the volleyballs.

Iwaizumi furrowed his brow as he lifted the wastepaper basket at the door to pour its contents into a large trash bag . He spotted a bit of paper with hearts and your name in the middle of them. Covertly, he picked it out between the rest of crumpled balls and, making sure his friends were far enough away not to see, turned his back to them to smooth out the note. He recognized the handwriting immediately and gagged at the letter. This sounded like it was written by a middle schooler at best! And what was with all those hearts and was that supposed to be a teddy bear drawing?

Iwaizumi glanced back into the basket, panic rising in his chest and sure enough, another note on familiar paper was also crumpled on top.

“Hey!! Shittykawa!”

“Don’t call me that, Iwa-chan!”, Oikawa whined but jogged over to his friend, “What did I do now?”

Iwaizumi boiled with anger as he lifted the cringey letter up to the setter’s eyes.

“Oh no, she threw it out? I really worked on that.”, he pouted.

“Why- why are you writing love letters to her in the first place!? You don’t like her like that!”

Oikawa gave him a superior smile, the kind he whipped out during games when he knew he was three steps ahead of the other team.

“I was helping you, Iwa-chan. You said you don’t know how to confess and you scoffed at my confession letter idea. But I know you wouldn’t want to wait until graduation, so”, he took the letter from his hands, “I decided to write one for you. - It’s a shame she didn’t like it. But then, one can’t help their taste. Evidently, since she picked you over me. - Ow! Iwa-chan, that hurt!” The captain rubbed his arm where Iwaizumi had punched him.

“I did write her letter.”, Iwaizumi pressed out from behind clenched teeth.

“… oh. And how did that go?”

The ace held up the second disregarded paper.

“Hm. She didn’t like either of them? Weird.”

“No, you idiot! She probably thought someone played a prank on her.”

The following squabble was interrupted by a loud clearing of the throat.

“Everything alright?”

Iwaizumi let go of Oikawa and bowed to you immediately.

“Sorry, y/n-kun. We just-“

He stopped when he followed your line of sight and noticed how you stared at the two notes still clutched tightly in their hands.

The two boys waited for your reaction and were surprised when you laughed nervously.

“Oh no, you guys saw those? Can you believe what the first years do for a laugh?”

Oikawa frowned and put a hand on his hip, “You really think first years could produce this kind of quality poetry?”, he waved the heart adorned letter in the air, then thought for a moment, adding in a mutter, “I mean, okay, maybe Iwa-chan’s wasn’t really- Ow! Stop kicking me!”

Iwaizumi glared at him to be quiet then turned back to you. Your embarrassed expression turned to confusion then to incredulity.

“What do you mean… “Iwa-chan’s”?”, you asked slowly.

Oikawa made a gesture like a waiter directing a guest to their table, pushing Iwaizumi forward with the other hand.

The ace stumbled for a second, then caught himself at the bottom of the few entry steps to the gym. He was close enough now that you saw the dark pink of his ears as he rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes.

“Was it really that bad?”, he mumbled and when he finally looked at you found you beaming up at him.

a/n: special thank you to @haikyu-mp4 for supplying me with the perfect ending! And thank you for the request ^^ I hope you enjoyed it! If anyone has seen Ouran High School Host Club, for Oikawa’s attempt to help Iwa I had the letter in mind Kyoya and the twins wrote in Haruhi’s name in episode two xD

[riordanness]

sparks fly — [p.jackson]

pairing: percy jackson x reader

wordcount: 1.0K

warnings: percy is hot

“Wait,” I hold up both hands and stare in delight at my half-sister. “Beckendorf actually asked you?”

“Yes!” Silena is a flushing mess, sitting cross legged on her bunk as our whole cabin is getting ready for breakfast.

There’s a short round of squeals, and I skip over and sit beside her, throwing a playful arm over her shoulder.

“I’m so glad for you,” I say, a pleased little smile on my face. Charles Beckendorf, or just Beckendorf, as we all called him, had been the object of Silena’s crush for ages. Like, long enough to be frustratingly annoying. But it seems the boy had finally caught on, as he’d just asked her last night to attend the Fourth of July fireworks show on the beach with him. Oh, and by the way, that’s like the biggest dating event of the year at Camp.

“Thanks, girl.” Silena smiles, and then nudges me knowingly. “Has he asked you yet?”

“Huh?” I play innocent. “Who?”

“Percy Jackson,” everyone choruses. Okay, maybe I’m not the subtlest when it comes to liking someone. Everyone knows about it. Except, apparently, Percy.

“No,” I say, shrugging. “He probably won’t.”

“Girl, then you ask him.” Lacy throws a pillow at me, which I catch and throw back. She laughs when it hits her and falls to the ground.

“I am not doing that,” I say indignantly.

“Why not?” Delia chirps up. “Girls can do the asking, that’s not even weird these days.”

“I know that,” I argue. “I just like the traditional ways. Boys ask.”

Delia shrugs. “Okay, whatever. Just don’t be surprised if you end up going to the fireworks alone.”

I don’t answer, just shrug on my pink jacket and head to the dining hall for breakfast.

I wasn’t surprised when Percy ended up finding me later that morning, sitting on the canoe lake pier and gazing out into the sparkling water.

“Hey, you,” he says easily, swinging himself down to sit beside me, our legs dangling. I notice that we’re both wearing our converse today. No surprise there in my case; I’m always wearing mine. They’re old and battered and doodled on to death, but they’re my comfort shoes. Percy’s are blue, naturally, and slightly less worn out.

“Hey,” I say back, nudging my best friend’s shoulder good-naturedly. “Where were you at breakfast? Didn’t see you.”

Percy shrugs, his sea green eyes fixed solidly on the water. His eyes are just as sparkly as it is.

“Yeah, sorry, I, um. Slept in.” Percy runs his hand through his dark hair, messing it up even more than it already was.

I raise an eyebrow. “Slept in? Dude. Come on, what’s really up?”

Percy kind of half laughs. “Okay, yeah. I wasn’t asleep. I didn’t sleep much at all last night, actually. I was… thinking about something.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I wait, but Percy doesn’t seem to wait to elaborate. “Cool. Well, anyway, the fireworks are tonight.”

“You excited?”

“Of course I am excited,” I say, giving him a smile. “I love the fireworks show. And, Nyssa told me it’s their best display yet this year. I can’t wait.”

Percy is quiet, his gaze still lingering on the water. “Hey, y/n?”

“Mm?” I reply, my gaze still lingering on him, as it always seems to.

“Are you going with anyone tonight?”

I hesitate, my heart pounding. “You mean like on a date?”

“Yeah,” Percy says, his voice hushed. He finally meets my eyes.

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “Not yet.”

Percy stares at me for a second, seemingly trying to form the words. Gods, he’s such an awkward idiot.

Finally, he pushes out a stumbling, “Will you go with me?”

“Yes,” I say immediately. “Absolutely, yes.”

“Yeah?” Percy looks surprised, which makes me laugh.

“Yes,” I repeat, reaching over and lacing our fingers together. “I wouldn’t want to go with anyone else.”

Percy half smiles, and half laughs, and says, “And here I was, all scared and nervous about asking you.”

I nudge him playfully, squeezing his hand. “Don’t be silly.”

There are campers everywhere, on picnic blankets and deck chairs and towels, or just simply sitting on the sand. Most people are paired off in couples, and for the first year of my life, so am I.

Percy runs over to me, a stupid grin on his face. His dark hair is messy and windswept, like he’s been running on the beach for hours.

“Hey, you,” he says, arriving at my side, a little breathless. He laces his fingers easily through mine, and I’d be lying if I said my heart didn’t speed up, the heat spreading to my cheeks.

“Hi,” I say back, suddenly shy in his presence. Which is ridiculous. We’ve been the bestest of friends for years, why am I suddenly nervous now?

I know why.

It’s because I’m hyper aware of the fact that before this moment, I’ve never had to worry about the fact that any second, Percy might kiss me.

“Come on.” He tugs on my arm gently, leading me through the crowd, until we reach a blue and white checked picnic blanket. Percy has brought strawberries, chocolate, and a six pack of Coke cans. I turn, and his glittering sea green eyes are staring into mine, a little nervous.

“Is it okay?” he asks softly. “I’ve never taken anyone on a date before.”

My heart swells with love and gratitude and pure, pure joy. “Percy, gods, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

His face breaks into the biggest smile, and I swear, he’s never looked more attractive than right now.

“Gods, I could kiss you right now,” he says, then flushes awkwardly. “I—I mean—“

“Do it,” I whisper, cutting him off.

“Huh?” Percy looks at me, mostly confused.

“Kiss me,” I reply, my heart beating fast. Where is all this bravery coming from? Inside, I’m a nervous mess of emotions.

“Okay.” Percy grins, and doesn’t hesitate to pull me towards him, his mouth on mine without a second to lose.

Would it be incredibly cliché to say that sparks flew as we kissed? Yes, it would be. But it’s true. Literally. Because at that exact second, the fireworks display began, explosions of gorgeous colours lighting up the sky around him, so my first kiss was kind of insanely unforgettable.