How are you? I hope you're okay. Well, this is the first time I've asked you for something, so I hope I'm doing the right thing… Anyways.
How about a story where the only way to Yuu/reader's heart is through food, but not just any kind of food, but homemade food, not fast food, not restaurant food, just homemade food? Imagine the boys discovering, either through a casual conversation with the reader or through Grim, that the only way to your heart is through food, because, for you, food represents a form of love, one in which feelings and emotions come out transparently and sincerely.
This story could be for both dorms and overblot + kalim, just thinking about the food the boys will prepare makes me hungry.
I hope my request didn't bother you, and I apologize for any spelling errors. Have a nice day/afternoon/evening.
Bye!
OVERBLOTS + KALIM X READER
Where they find out that the way to your heart is through home-cooked food.
When he hears from Kalim—loudly—that the only way to your heart is through homemade food, Jamil nearly drops his spoon.
"What? Yuu likes homemade food? Like, emotionally likes it?? Like—falling in love likes it??"
He wants to scream. Because food is his thing. Cooking is his chore, his comfort, his language—but he’s never done it for love. Always for duty. Always because someone expected it.
Now, the idea that you’d cherish a meal he made with intention—just for you—makes his heart skip a beat and his stomach twist.
So he stays up late one night in the Scarabia kitchen, making a dish his father once made for his mother during festival season: stuffed vine leaves with lemon, turmeric rice, and sweet tahini-drizzled dates.
The moment he places it in front of you, he does not meet your eyes.
“This isn’t a big deal,” he mutters. “It’s just something I made. You can throw it out if it’s not your taste.”
But then you try it. And close your eyes. And smile.
“This tastes like someone missed me before I even left.”
Jamil stops.
You look up at him gently. “Did you make this with your heart?”
His voice is low. Raw.
“…I don’t know how to make it any other way.”
Malleus doesn’t understand at first.
“You prefer homemade food… over grand feasts? Even over royal delicacies?”
You nod. “Because homemade food carries emotion. If someone makes something with love, you can feel it in the taste. It tells you you’re cared for.”
Malleus becomes quiet after that. Thoughtful.
That night, he visits Lilia.
“…May I ask you to teach me to cook something… simple?”
The next few nights are a saga. Things are burned. The Diasomnnia kitchen is almost destroyed. Sebek has a meltdown. But Malleus persists.
Eventually, he brings you a single, quiet offering: a small bowl of barley porridge sweetened with honey and fruits—a common fae breakfast.
“It was my mother’s favorite,” he says softly. “Lilia told me she usually made it, once, before she… before the end. I’ve never tasted it. Until now.”
You sip the warm spoonful, and your throat closes up with feeling.
“Malleus,” you whisper, voice trembling, “this… is beautiful.”
His gaze softens—more tender than you’ve ever seen it.
“If food is a way to your heart, then allow me to offer mine first. One dish at a time.”
“Oh! You like homemade food? THAT’S AMAZING!! I love making food for people!!”
Kalim’s the one who runs full speed toward your love language without hesitation. He doesn’t even blink. His whole soul lights up with the idea of cooking for you—not because it’s a strategy, but because it’s pure joy.
He shows up the next day with a whole spread: lamb biryani, stuffed flatbreads, saffron rice with raisins, and a homemade rosewater dessert. Everything’s hand-cooked with a little too much enthusiasm and not enough restraint (he may have set off the dorm smoke alarms three times).
He watches you dig in like it’s the best moment of his entire life.
“You actually like it?!”
“It’s… incredible,” you say between bites. “Wait, did you make all this yourself?”
“I had some help from Jamil, but I really tried to do the important parts!” He leans in, grinning. “I wanted you to know I care. With every bite.”
You're about to respond when he just blurts out:
“I’d cook for you every day forever if you let me!”
You choke. Grim laughs. Kalim beams. Jamil sighs in the background.
He panics.
Absolutely loses it when he hears from Grim that you only open up to people who feed you something homemade.
"They must be joking—homemade, here, in NRC? That’s entirely unsanitary without proper kitchen regulations! You can’t just cook anything—"
He gets flustered. Because what if you don’t like his food? What if it’s improper? What if it has a lot of sugar?
Lots of sugar...
But you mention once, offhandedly, that your favorite kind of food is when someone makes something they ate growing up. A comfort dish. Something from childhood. And that makes Riddle think of strawberry tarts. Before everything changed.
So he makes you one. Follows the old recipe not from his mother’s strict cookbook, but from memory.
When he hands it to you, it’s in a porcelain dish with little red ribbon tied around it.
He doesn’t look at you directly when you taste it. But your eyes light up, and your expression softens, and Riddle feels something in his chest crack wide open.
“You made this just for me?”
“…Yes. I thought… well, if it’s your love language, then it should be done right, shouldn’t it?”
And suddenly, he’s not as scared of breaking the rules as he used to be—at least, not if it means winning your heart.
Internal screaming.
He overhears it from Ortho, who cheerfully tells him,
“Yuu says food is their love language! Homemade food especially! You should make them something!”
SYSTEM ERROR: PANIC MODE ACTIVATED
“ME?! Cook?! Are you trying to make me perish in fire and humiliation?!”
Idia spends three days researching recipes on deep cooking forums and “how to not burn your dorm down”.
He programs a tiny kitchen assistant bot. He tries and fails to make something edible five times.
But eventually… he remembers a meal he used to eat: miso-butter ramen with soft egg and nori strips. Something warm and soft and kind. So he makes it. Shaking the whole time. Heart racing.
He doesn’t give it to you in person. He leaves it outside your door in a sleek bento box with an embarrassed little note:
“⚠️ WARNING: Contains feelings. Eat at your own risk. Is this too much cringe?–Idia”
You eat it. It’s clumsy but perfect. And you text him one word after:
“Home. <3”
He doesn't respond for a full ten minutes because he’s lying on the floor having a full-blown meltdown—but it’s the good kind.
Later that night, you find a pixel heart flashing on your phone.
You say homemade food equals love, and Vil hears:
“If it’s made with thought, emotion, and care… that’s what matters to me most.”
At first, he’s horrified. Not because he disagrees—but because he's never allowed himself to cook anything imperfect. For Vil, food is calories, presentation, discipline. Feelings? That’s… far too vulnerable.
But then he sees you. The way your whole face lights up when Grim gives you a sloppy sandwich he threw together with help from Trey. The little smile you get when someone talks about their family recipe.
He starts thinking: Have I ever cooked for someone without a camera crew or an aesthetic in mind?
So he visits Epel’s family cookbook. He goes rustic. Unpolished. Just him. He tries to recreate something his father made for him when he was young and sick: potato soup with dill and cream.
When he brings it to you, it’s in a plain ceramic bowl. No garnish. No edible flowers.
He clears his throat. “It’s… not glamorous. But it’s mine.”
You take one spoonful and exhale like you’re home.
“Vil,” you murmur, eyes shining, “this tastes like someone wanted me to feel safe.”
He’s silent for a long time before saying softly, “That’s exactly why I made it.”
At first? He scoffs.
"Tch. Food? That's easy."
But when you clarify—not takeout, not dining hall food, definitely not something a servant made—his expression falters.
“Homemade food,” you say quietly one afternoon, helping Grim finish his bowl of stew. “You can tell when someone put care into something. It’s… honest.”
Leona doesn’t say much in response. But that night, he sits awake in the botanical garden, tail flicking. The next few days, he’s just gone. Vanished between classes. Ruggie says he’s been in the kitchen wing of the dorms. That’s weird. No one ever uses those.
Eventually, he shows up with something in a wrapped container. It smells like a dish from the Sunset Savanna— stew, if you're not mistaken.
Leona thrusts it toward you. “Here. Eat it. Or don’t. I don’t care.”
But he watches. He definitely cares.
You taste it. It’s a little salty, a little smoky. The meat’s tender. The spices are strong but familiar. It’s clearly not professional quality—but it’s his.
You glance at him, and for once, he doesn’t look smug. He looks nervous.
“It’s… perfect,” you say softly. “You made this?”
Leona shrugs, ears twitching. “Told ya. Easy.”
But the smile tugging at the corners of his lips gives him away.
Azul takes this personally.
He prides himself on having everything—the Mostro Lounge, the service, the charm, the business sense. And yet, you don't fall for any of that?
“Oh no, no. They want homemade food? I can do that,” he mutters, spiraling into business-planning mode.
At first, he thinks he can buy it. Hire a good chef to cook in the Lounge’s back kitchen. But when he tests the idea with you, you immediately frown.
“…Did you make this?”
Azul’s face freezes.
“Homemade means from the heart, Azul.”
The next time he tries, he doesn’t tell you. But he spends hours in the kitchen, burning his fingers, cursing the oven, covered in flour. Jade walks in, offers to help. Azul glares.
“This is something I need to do myself.”
Eventually, he presents you with a beautifully imperfect serving of seaweed soup and grilled rootfish—a Coral Sea traditional dish.
“It was something my grandmother used to make,” he says softly, hands trembling as you take a spoonful.
You blink, surprised. “It tastes like the ocean. But… comforting.”
Azul exhales, suddenly sheepish. “That’s exactly what she used to say.”
You smile, eyes warm. “Thank you. This means more than you know.”
Hi!! i was wondering if you would take requests for first years in twisted. Something like their reaction to them arguing and the reader being like “oh you wanna kiss me so bad” during it. if not it’s perfectly fine!! thank you in advance if you do!
COMMENTS: I had some troubles with this one because I didn't quite understand what you were asking me. 😅 I asked a friend who consumes more romantic content than I do (which is practically none) and she told me about characters who don't know how to express their feelings so they annoy their romantic interest. Which I think would be out of character for everyone but Ace and even him I don't believe he gets to such an irritating point.
But what I understood could be that they were arguing because they were jealous but didn't want to admit it and so MC says something like that. So I went with that one. I hope it's good enough.
I hope you and all enjoy 😉
PS: I would have liked to have written some of Epel's lines in his dialect, but English is not my first language so I didn't know how to do it.
WORD COUNT: An average of 300 words per character.
CONTEXT: He heard a rumor that you were seeing a dorm-mate of his that he doesn't like. He thought you would talk about it with him someday, but you never did. And the final straw was when he heard someone comment that you two had started dating. He goes to Ramshackle Dorm to clarify the matter.
The truth is: you were seeing this guy, yes, but only because he was one of, if not the worst student in the dorm and the Housewarden or Vice Housewarden asked you if you could help him study. And they promised you a reward if you could get him to improve his grades.
That student you started helping with his studies had a crush on you and he was the one who started the rumor that you two started dating.
You hear Ace knocking on your door like he usually does. When he doesn't walk right in without knocking as if this was his second dorm. You open the door and he looks sulky.
“So you weren't going to tell your best friend the news?” he asks you with a smirk.
What news? Did the Headmage give you more work without you knowing? Whatever it is, he doesn't seem to like seeing you `play dumb´. He enters and closes the door behind him. He takes your hand and leads you to the common room.
“Spit it out! What's the thing between you and that dude?” You don't really know who he's talking about until he says his name. You tell him about helping him study. “Study? That excuse is old. Even I already used that one.”
You tell him he can even ask Riddle and Trey, they're the ones who asked you for that favor. But he doesn't seem to believe you.
“Just tell me if you guys are dating or not!”
You sound almost disgusted telling him no, you're not dating that guy. And then you say: “And why are you so angry? Would you like to be the one dating me instead?”
He would have blushed if he hadn't been so caught up in the argument. He smirks at you again. “Well I would be much better than him, that's for sure.”
“Oh yeah? So why don't you prove it?”
“And I can! I could take you on the best date you've ever had!”
“So tomorrow at eight is fine with you?”
“More than fine! You will see! I... wait... WHAT?!” Now yes, he blushed completely. You chuckle. “O-OI! This is foul play!”
“You mean you don't want to go on a date with me then?”
“T-that's not what I meant. But... ha... ha ha HA HA HA... You know what? Well played!
You hear a knock on the door, louder than normal. You open the door and see Deuce catching his breath, as if he had run to your door. You tell him to go inside and get some rest in the common room.
“I need to talk to you.” You say you can talk when he catches his breath and you pull him into the common room.
“That guy you started seeing.” he says, after resting for a moment. He says his name. “Is it true that you two are dating?” You sometimes forget that he is the sincere and straight to the point type.
You tell him no. Of course not. You were just helping him study. Riddle and Trey asked you for this favor.
“Really? You can tell me if you're dating.” he tells you that with a slightly sad expression that he can't hide. You say it's true. That you don't even know why he would think you and that guy were dating.
He explains to you how he heard about that rumor. And as you reveal each other's point of view some dots are connected and you come to the conclusion that it could have been that same guy who started the rumour. And Deuce get pissed!
You calm him down and say that if you tell Riddle, it will be off with that guy’s head for sure. And while you calm him down, you end up holding his hands, that at that moment were fists. But he was still irritated.
“The nerve of that guy! As if you would ever settle for someone like that.”
“Do you think I would be better with you?”
“Of course! You deserve the best anyone can have! Not a jerk like that! I would treat you so much better! I would-” and then he realizes what he was saying. He gets all red and covers his face with his hands.
You hear a firm knock on the door. When you open it, you see Jack in a quite serious posture. “Hi (Y/N). I need to speak with you.” You let him in and the two of you go sit on the couch in the common room.
“What is your relationship with that guy you started seeing?” he says his name. And you say you're just helping him study because Leona asked you to. Something about him being an embarrassment to Savanaclaw and Leona not having the patience to deal with it. That you were better at that sort of thing.
He is silent for a moment. His expression impenetrable, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes. Pondering something. You ask what's going on and he opens his eyes and looks at you: “Are you two dating?”
What? Of course not! Why was he asking that?
“Tell me the truth! If you are then you made a really bad choice. That guy is one of those unruly punks of our dorm. You shouldn't be with him. That guy don't deserve you. You deserve better. Way better.”
“Better? Like you, perhaps?” you startle him. And he looked like he was blushing.
“I-I didn't... I mean... I like to think that I would be better than him, sure. But...” he rubs the back of his head. And you see his ears are back, like he's scared. Of your reaction maybe?
You hear a knock on the door. You open the door and Epel greets you sulkily. You greet him and ask what's wrong. “You! Something is wrong with you.” is what he answers you. “May I come in?”
You let him in. He closes the door behind him and takes your hand to lead you to the common room with him. “What's your thing with that guy?” You ask who, and he says the name of the student you were helping. You say you're only helping him study because Vil asked you to.
“Oh yeah? What are you helping him study? And why you?” he then says a few phrases in his dialect that you don't understand, but he looks upset. You tell him the truth and ask why he is questioning you.
He first answers you in his dialect and you don't understand, he then goes back to saying it in a way you understand: “Because I know you're dating him!” You look confused and start arguing with him about it not being true. And you can't argue anymore when he goes back to talking in a way you don't understand.
“If you are so pissed off because you wanted to be the one dating me then just admit it!” You yell at him, irritated.
“AND WHAT IF I AM?...” and he shuts up for a second because he realized what he just said. He looks down at the floor, lowers his voice, and clenches his fists at his side. “What if I am... I know I'm not that strong or tall, but it's not fair...”
You calmly place your hands on his face and make him look at you again. It's up to you to reassure him now.
You hear a knock on the door so loud it seems like the person on the other side is going to break it down. And then, in Sebek’s thunderous voice you hear: “HUMAN! YOU MUST OPEN THIS DOOR IMMEDIATELY AND LET ME IN!” You open the door and see him with his usual angry face staring at you.
“May I came in?” It's kind of funny that he asks permission like that despite how rushed he is. You let him in and he talks to you right there at the entrance. It's up to you to close the door.
“Report me about your relationship with the student you started seeing. Why did these meetings start and what is the status?” You try to hide your laughter by the way he's talking, like you're some secret agent on a mission. “Why are you laughing? This is a matter of the highest importance!” The fact that you don't even know why that questionnaire just makes the scene funnier.
After he tells you the name of the "subject" you tell him, still trying not to laugh, that Lilia asked you if you could help that student with his studies.
“Quite a coherent answer. But there is a logical flaw in his narrative. How could you, a human without magic, help a student from Diasomnia with his studies?”
You might not have magic, but that doesn't mean you don't know good study methods, which is why Lilia asked for your help. Sebek believes in you, but he's still dissatisfied.
“Very well. I won't doubt Lilia-sama's plans. But you still haven't told me what your recurring status with him is.” Recurring status? What was he talking about? “I WANT TO KNOW IF IT'S TRUE THAT THE TWO OF YOU ARE IN A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP!” What? Of course not! Where did he get that idea?
“Then what are the origins of your romance rumor?” What? Well, you don't know how it came about, but it's just that, a rumor and a lie. “Are you completely sure of that?” Of course you are!
If he really likes you, then it's because one of the things he believes you are is a person of integrity. So, he fully believes your word. You see him calm down and ponder for a few seconds.
“In that case...” and then he explodes “SOMEONE IS TRYING TO DEFAME YOUR NAME! Start a rumor about you having such a fool and weak partner. HA! I knew you would recognize your own worth not to settle for such a commoner.”
“So who do you think I should settle for?”
“NOBODY. You shouldn't just settle for anything or anyone. You should get what you deserve. And you certainly deserve much more than that worm.”
“Someone like you, perhaps?”
“Well, honestly, someone like you is even worthy of someone like my liege. But if you deem me worthy, THEN YES! I shall be the one you deserve!” he won't even try to hide it, he's too proud of himself and you.
If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
Riddle x reader where reader is an ABSOLUTE NERD about Alice in Wonderland and so she's utterly obsessed and fascinated with Riddle and he's just utterly FLUSTERED over all the attention 😭😭😭
RIDDLE X READER
Where you're obsessed with Alice in Wonderland
Where in your dimension you were an Alice in Wonderland nerd, and upon arriving in NRC, you discover you're watching the humanized Queen of Hearts, Riddle…
You had already made peace with the fact that you were the biggest Alice in Wonderland nerd on this plane of existence.
Your room (in your dimension) was littered with vintage editions of the book, tea sets inspired by the Mad Tea Party, and a growing collection of Heart Queen fanart.
So, when you ended up in NRC and discovered that Heartslabyul was a dorm based on your favorite fictional world ever—you nearly passed out.
But none of that compared to meeting Riddle Rosehearts.
He was real. The Heart Queen in human boy form.
And the first time he scolded a student for painting the roses the wrong shade of crimson—you actually squealed.
“Did you just—did you really say that?” you gasped, stars in your eyes.
Riddle paused, halfway through yelling at Ace. “...Yes?” he replied slowly, confused by your excitement.
“OH MY GOD. That was so accurate. You’re literally perfect. Do you realize you’re, like, the embodiment of Wonderland authority?? I could cry right now.”
Ace snorted. “Please don’t encourage him, you’re gonna make it worse for us.”
But Riddle? He was frozen. Bright red. And utterly stunned.
“...Perfect?? Embodiment of-Wonderland authority? What in Twisted—?”
You nodded seriously, grabbing his hand with all the gravity of someone speaking to royalty.
“Riddle. You are my Queen of Hearts. And I have never been so happy.”
If he had been red before, now he was absolutely crimson.
“I-!” he stammered, flailing slightly. “This kind of excessive praise is unnecessary—!”
“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of having tea with the Queen of Hearts,” you continued, beaming.
“Do you also scream ‘off with their heads’ when you’re mad? Wait, don’t tell me—do it during tea. Please. I want the full authentic experience.”
Riddle covered his face with a gloved hand, groaning softly.
“Off with your head is my UM, not a game nor...-” he muttered.
“Why you of all people have to be so—so enthusiastic…”
“I brought scones!” you said brightly, pulling a box out of your bag. “And I made them in the shape of hearts. Because obviously.”
Riddle peeked through his fingers. His face was a warzone of flustered red and reluctant fondness.
“You’re utterly incorrigible,” he said, voice shaking. “And absolutely out of order.”
You grinned. “So you’ll join me for tea?”
He turned his head, muttering something about "disrupting schedules" and "breaking protocol"—but you noticed how he didn't actually say no.
riddle was currently scolding at his dorm mates for failing to listen and interrupting your guys time together in the garden.
you didn’t mind but the way riddle was so assertive and how he looked in his house warden uniform, you couldn’t help but stare.
once they left, he turned towards you to apologize but before he could say anything you said,
“we should make out.”
he’s so red you don’t know where his hairline starts.
“w-where did that come from?! w-we are in public! that’s against rule 565! absolutely not!”
“hm does that mean we can in private? is that against the queens rules?”
he thought for a moment before grabbing your hand, he pulled you towards the dorm as he walked in front of you to hide his flushed face.
“I.. suppose it isn’t. come on now.”
°˖➴
“this is inappropriate my rose…”
you currently pulled riddle into the nearest empty room you could find.
he was helping out his fellow dorm mates study, you were there to study as well but you were way too distracted by riddles voice.
the way he was assertive yet soft spoken with them. he wanted to make sure the information was getting to them but didn’t want to sound too strict or rude.
that made you snap as you pulled him away from the group.
“is it against the queens rules to want to make out with your very attractive partner?”
riddle placed his hands on your shoulders to keep some distance between you two but he wasn’t doing a good job, he made no effort to push you away
“we have to get back now.” you frowned as you placed a small peck on the edge of his lips.
“no, we can do this later.”
“…no…”
riddle made a frustrated sound before crashing his lips towards yours.
“you’re a bad influence my rose.”
°˖➴
riddle has been cooped up in his room all day. you came over to check on him, reminding him to take breaks but when he’s studying— old habits die hard.
words were not getting through him so you had to resort to actions.
you landed a kiss on his jawline which made him freeze and flare up.
“h-huh?!”
you place more kisses on his jaw and cheek
“w-what are you doing??”
the more kisses you place the redder he gets. he knew what you were doing, he so badly wanted to push you away but he could never do that to you.
he cups your face before boldly pulling your face to his.
roughly kissing you at first but later eases up, gently kissing you, letting all his tension flow away as he kisses you silly.
leona
100% ego boost
cocky
will make out with you right then and there no matter where you are
lazy make out sessions
makes you take the lead until he gets in the mood and takes over
Leona wasn’t doing anything fancy, all he was doing was tidying his hair up in a high ponytail, getting ready for spell drive training.
you were watching him get ready. you love when he puts his hair up, makes him look even more handsome, and leona is already extremely handsome. you’re practically memorized
“we should totally make out.”
he froze a second- caught off guard by your words then smirked at you, you could practically see his ego inflating
“getting bold now herbivore?”
he doesn’t hesitate to give it to you. he crawls towards you, grabbing your waist and attaching his lips to yours roughly.
he might be a little late to practice, but it’s worth it since he’s spending his time with you and getting a reward of seeing the aftermath of your messy face.
°˖➴
it was your first time seeing leona in his official spell drive uniform and
oh my sevens.
he was with his team going over the plan for the game and you couldn’t help but admire how well the uniform looks on him. once he finished, you couldn’t help but say
“let’s make out.”
he chuckles, “what? is that supposed to motivate me?”
his teammates heard— scoffing and snickering.
“i really don’t need to see that before a game..” you could hear epel muttering afar.
leona smirked wide, loving when you get bold enough to say that in public, he’s not afraid to show everyone who you belong to. he pulled you in, devouring your lips right in front of everyone which made everyone gagged— leaving to do something else.
°˖➴
Leona was taking a nap per usual but something about the way the sunlight casted down on his face, enhancing his features made you giddy.
"we should make out."
leona opened one eye to look at you, questioning what you just said. after seeing your determine face, he knew he heard right and you were serious
"then you better get over here herbivore, before I change my mind."
you smiled wide as you jumped on top of him, his hands immediately found your hips to balance you. you kissed him slowly first as he lazily replied.
slow and lazy yet you could feel his love pouring out while running his hands up and down your sides until he started to feel more awake. He’ll never say it out loud but through his actions that’s when it started getting more heated, you had your turn now it’s time for him to show you who’s the king.
azul
flustered everytime
never say that in public, if the twins heard that.. he will hide in his octopod
will only do it if you’re alone
sweet make sessions, not too rough not too gentle
secretly loves when you want to make out
you were waiting for azul to finish up some business at mostro lounge when someone approached you, clearly flirting with you.
you kept reminding them you have a boyfriend and are not interested but they were persistent.
“come on, just one date? then you’ll see if you still want to be with this ‘boyfriend’” you looked disgusted but before you could say anything a voice came behind them.
“that will not be happening. as you can see we are going out on our own date right now, they made it clear they are not interested so please get out or do I need to show you where the door is?” azul was by your side as you saw the twins looming over the person. they got the message and headed out.
“are you alright my pearl?”
“we should make out.” you blurted out as you found that attractive, the twins were snickering as azul turned pink.
“w-what?! what are you- let’s just go.”
°˖➴
azul was scheming up contracts while you were keeping him company. this gave you the opportunity to get a good look at him, the way his glasses sat at the bridge of his nose, beauty mark looking so kissable right now..
you walked behind his chair looking over his shoulder pretending to be interested before casually saying,
“we should make out right now.”
his pen stopped abruptly, messing up what he was writing. you could see his ears turning pink
“w-well, ahem. I guess I do need a break…” he looked around the room even though it was just the two of you, he pulled you onto his lap still looking flustered and guiding himself to your lips.
°˖➴
“my pearl… i’ve told you about this.” you once again announce that you wanted to make out instead of the twins again. he can only take so much of their teasing.
he will gladly do it with no cost but please stop saying it in front of them.
“sorry zul… but… can we?” you had the hopeful glint in your eyes that he couldn’t resist, your lucky he pulled you in his vip room because he really did wanted to kiss you silly.
he sighs, “I should make you pay… but i’ll let it slide just this once.” he cradled your face as he kisses you shyly.
kissing azul was always so sweet, you could tell he was nervous but he put on a front of being confident. azul always sets a steady pace, making it enjoyable for you two.
*knock knock*
“quit sucking each others faces! bleh”
“there are quite a lot of people out here.”
the tips of azuls ears were pink as he groaned. getting one last kiss before he had to leave.
kalim
giggly
loves kissing you, will do it, you don’t even need to ask
will laugh and smile throughout the session
he’s so happy, he can’t keep his hands off you
doesn’t matter where you are but he doesn’t want jamil yelling at him so will prefer private
you and kalim were outside enjoying the sun as he was talking about his day and anything that came to him. he was so bright that your face always hurts when you’re around him from smiling so much.
he was currently making a flower crown as he continued to talk, you were supposed to be making one as well for him but you got distracted as you stared at kalim.
his eyes were like ruby’s as you got lost in them, suddenly remembering how sweet he is. he always saw the good in everything which you loved and admired, it was a nice change considering everyone else at nrc.
“we should make out.” you muttered as you were thinking about all the sweet moments with kalim.
“okay!” kalim didn’t hesitate to lean over to peck your lips then diving back in to leave longer and loving kisses, giggling every once in a while through your lips. he never questions you, always willing or finding excuses(or just straight up) to kiss you.
one hand was running through your hair while the other was playing with your fingers.
°˖➴
kalim invited you to watch him practice at his club and you gladly accepted.
kalim was so talented at the drums it blew you away. they sounded so good and you were having a great time enjoying the music.
kalims outfit was so casual, he was so cute with his beanie you wanted to smooch his face so bad. you were trying so hard to not interrupt him.
practice was finally over and kalim rushed over to you giggling.
“what did you think?”
“you were amazing baby! you were so cool, we should make out.” kalim eyes widened before laughing loudly
“my, young love…” lilia commented as he exited.
“you’re so silly habibi!” he gives you the biggest kiss with the loudest ‘MWAH’ sound. he’s smiling through your kisses while cupping your face between his hands.
will not stop until someone kicks you two out.
°˖➴
“UGH I’ve missed you so much habibi…” jamil didn’t leave kalims side at all today, making sure he gets stuff done and doesn’t do anything crazy which left no time for you two.
kalim has been dying for your affection all day. he plopped down on his bed, pulling you into his grasp
“can we make out… pleaseee?” kalim asked as he’s already placing sweet kisses on your neck and cheek.
you giggle, “i was just about to ask you that.”
kalim lights up as he makes his way to your lips.
laughing through your kisses, always pulling away a bit to kiss the other parts of your face as his hands roam over your body.
he always enjoys moments like this where he can fully love you without anyone interfering or jamil pulling them away. he can let his love overflow through his kisses and touches so you get the message.
jamil
hides behind his hood
you’re crazy
savory make out sessions, loves taking his time with you
he’s very busy so will have to wait until he gets a break
if he could he would do it anywhere anytime
Jamil was making food for yet another party kalim was throwing. you were accompanying him, helping out here and then.
you love watching him cook, how he moves so effortlessly through the kitchen, you couldn't help but blurt out what was on your mind.
"we should totally make out right now.."
jamil paused his cutting. his face heated up but he could just blame the boiling water. he swiftly put his hood up so you couldn’t see his face, trying to play it off
"what are you talking about? help me get these in the water." he changed the subject but he would definitely love to make out with you, maybe he will later.
°˖➴
jamil invited you to watch him play basketball since you’ve been asking him. he moves so agile, making baskets mostly every time. he looks so fine with his hair up, sweat dripping down his face.
they were taking a break and you handed jamil his water bottle,
“you looked so cool out there jamil! we should make out.”
he almost spat out his water. so caught off guard because of your compliment then your statement.
he couldn’t hide his face with his hood so he just used his hand to hide his blush.
“you’re crazy.”
he tried to play it off but then he looked around to make sure no one was listening to them before mumbling
“as much as I would love to right now… we can later, promise.”
°˖➴
jamil finally got time to himself but it was nighttime. that didn’t matter to you, you were just happy to spend time with him. he was currently taking out his braids as you laid in his bed.
before you could get the words out, jamil was already on top of you, devouring your lips.
“i’ve been waiting all day to do that.” he muttered against your lips, leaving kisses all over your face as he continues to speak, “you don’t know how badly I wanted to kiss you every time you asked to make out.” he kisses your jaw, “you drive me insane.”
he basically is sucking the air out of you, savoring the taste of your lips since it’s so rare for him to spend time with you, he loves to take advantage of the time he has to himself.
vil
you’ll ruin his makeup, no
admires your forwardness
either elegant and soft make out sessions or messy sessions depending on what he’s doing later
doesn’t mind messing up his makeup if you’re alone and he doesn’t have to go anywhere later
if he has a shoot, no he will not kiss you, don’t think about it
Vil was trying new makeup products and invited you over to his room to try them out. you love when he does your makeup you get to shamelessly admire him up close. he was putting blush on you, one hand holding your chin up as he applied it to your cheek.
“we should make out…”
his eyes widen then soften as he laughed, you can be so forward when you wanted to.
“that will ruin our makeup dear.” he saw you pout and he couldn’t help himself. he sighs and pulled you closer to him
“you’re lucky my schedule is free today. i’m all yours~” he attacked your lips, he can’t wait to see the finish result of your guys ruined faces.
°˖➴
Vil was at a photo shoot and you were accompanying him, he looked so radiant you couldn’t take your eyes off him.
the photographer told him to take five as he reviewed the photos, vil made his way to you who smiled brightly,
“we should totally make out.. right now..”
vil pinched your cheeks, he could feel your stares and knew you were up to something, “absolutely not. we’re not done here and you’ll ruin my makeup. I know how you get.”
“pleaseee..”
“no.”
“one kiss?”
“no. you can wait after.”
there’s no convincing him when his mind is made up.
°˖➴
“my love, I have a meeting with the director in ten minutes no.” Vil stated as he was touching up, making sure he looked presentable.
you whined at vil saying you guys should make out but of course vil wouldn’t allow it.
“that’s enough time for a couple of kisses…”
vil glared at you through his mirror as to give you a warning to behave but you never listen. you needed to kiss him now.
“fine. just a few. don’t go crazy, I don’t want to test to see if this lipstick is smudge proof.” he finally broke after your constant begging.
he gently took your chin and pulled you in, he kissed you softly, not going too deep or rough to ruin anything.
when vil kisses you like this he’s always so poise, trying to restrain himself from breaking and giving in since he has somewhere to be soon.
“you’re something else my love.”
idia
you break him every time you say it
hairs fully pink
wants to but will NOT make the first move you have to take initiative
awkward make out sessions, he has to warm up before he gets comfortable
only ever in private, he doesn’t leave his room
“we should make out.”
idia.exe has stopped working. crashing out. reboot reboot.
“H-HUHHHH?!”
idia was in a boss fight, so focused on it that it made you smile while you were sitting on his bed watching him play, you didn’t want to bother him since you know how he gets during game but you just had to say what was on your mind.
“y-you’re joking right? is this a prank? where’s the camera?” the tips of his hair is pink as he hides his face, trying to shrink.
“i’m serious idia! we should!”
he still doesn’t believe you, still trying to hide from you but can’t really go anywhere since you’re in his safe haven.
“n-no way! i haven’t even unlocked that yet! we’re only on affinity level 50… making out is totally a level 100 thing…”
he will keep rambling saying this isn’t real, making excuses until you make the first move.
°˖➴
you watched idia work on new equipment for ortho, he was telling you about all the technical stuff and how it will improve ortho which you love when he gets passionate and is willing to talk to you before he gets shy and thinks you don’t care.
“I really think this will improve his speed which could make him go at least-“
“we should make out.”
you watched his hair go from blue to pink in an instant.
he dropped to the floor, hiding himself. “w-what is wrong with you? you can’t just drop that crazy one liner! when did I get into an otome game…”
“maybe when you started dating me.”
“I-I wasn’t ready for that!”
°˖➴
“I can do it… I can do it…” idia is currently hyping himself to kiss you.
you had asked him to make out five minutes ago but he got flustered and is hiding over his sheet. don’t get him wrong, he absolutely wants to make out with you! it’s just hard for him since he’s not use to this, he needs a minute… or two… or five.
“idia, baby, we don’t have to.”
“NO! uh, I-I do I just uhm…” you smiled at him fondly as you removed the sheet over his head, you placed you hand on his cheek before slowly moving in still giving him time to pull away.
“I’m going to kiss you now okay?”
idia appreciates you so much, he nodded, sweating from the proximity as you finally kissed him.
it was slow and gentle. never rushing him, letting him have room to pull away if he wants, but he takes this time to get more comfortable
a few more kisses in, idia is more relaxed as he decided to go deeper and rougher, he needs to take a chance before he regrets it.
when he’s with you he gets a spring of confidence. hes always comfortable with you. you’re his player two, his healer.
malleus
how bold of you to say that to him
will gladly accept no matter where he is
you can text him and he will be at your door as soon as you send it
assertive make out sessions, kisses you like there’s no tomorrow
LOVES it
“we should make ou-“
“I agree.”
you didn’t even get the full sentence out before malleus is already on you gripping your waist.
you couldn’t help but laugh, he’s so lovesick it’s adorable.
you wrapped your arms around his neck, “i’m glad we’re on the same page.”
he’s already savoring your mouth, everytime you share a kiss it leaves you breathless. malleus will always show you how much he loves you, you can feel it through his kisses.
malleus is never an inch away from your face, he sometimes forgets you need to breathe so when you pull away he’s right there following you, waiting to dive back in again.
when you block him to catch your breathe he moves down to your neck and collarbone.
very clingy dragon, once you two start making out he will not let you go anywhere for the rest of the day.
°˖➴
malleus was out at his gargoyle club, you couldn’t join him since you were busy studying. He still called you through to talk about gargoyles, his voice is quite nice to listen to so you didn’t mind.
you’ve been at it nonstop so you took a little break to pay attention to malleus.
he has been going at it, spitting out facts about gargoyles and the history about them.
he’s so passionate you wish you could have joined him so you could see his outfit. the way the wind blows though his hair, you can slightly see his scales on his forehead, oh you miss him.
“we should make out.”
he stopped talking.
*knock knock*
“huh? hold on mal someone’s here.”
it was malleus who still had his phone to his ear at your doorstep.
…
“you are quite the bold one, child of man.”
malleus was visiting late at night like he usually does when you so happen to blurt out about wanting to make out with him
“not many would dare to say that to me.”
“well I would hope not.”
you stated as you pulled him closer by his shirt
“you’re mine and you better only make out with him.”
malleus widened his eyes then let out a real genuine laugh. he absolutely loves how bold you are with him, it shows that you’re not afraid of him and feel comfortable around him.
“I would never be with another. for you will be the only one I spend the rest of my life with, until the end.”
he says into your neck before leaving pecks, trailing his way up to your lips, sucking the air out of your lungs. kissing you like there’s no tomorrow, really showing you that you’re the only one for him.
______๑♡๑______
habibi = my love/beloved (I used google translate I don’t speak arabic)
a/n: THIS IS ASS UGH most of these are the same omg.. idk why riddle was so hard to think of.. writers block or smth.
a/n: whenever I play games n the li does something hot or anything i’m like ‘omggg let’s make out rn’ idk i’ve been playing lads and that one scene where zanye was jealous.. i was like okayy let’s make out RN anyways have a good night/day <3
HAVE TOU CONSIDERED. doing this kiss and make out prompt but flipped? i.e. THEY drag you into a closet/classroom to kiss kiss fall in love? I imagine for some chars. it would be the result of a bad day and for others just ‘cause!.
ANYWAYS. sorry if your requests are overloaded. just. an idea. <3 love your writing!!!! Ty for your service 🙏🙏
- [𝐩:𝐬] Intense kissing/makeout . Physical intimacy (non-explicit) . Sudden physical contact/grabbing . Slight unpredictability (Floyd being Floyd) . Mild dominance/control . Reader being pinned against a wall briefly . Slight possessiveness . Teasing/biting .
Note: Guys I know the tags are misleading into it being borderline 'smut' but I PROMISE it's just suggestive 🙏 . Also I kinda cooked with this one 😍
Leona Kingscholar
The sun’s slanting low across the Savannaclaw dorm courtyard, casting long shadows that stretch like sleepy lions. You're on your way to the library, arms full of notes for a shared class—when a familiar, rough hand loops around your wrist from behind.
Before you can argue—he’s pulling you along, not with urgency, but with that effortless kind of command only he seems to exude. You try to complain, maybe mention that you’ve got work to do, but his reply is a chuckle as dry and warm as the desert wind.
You end up in an unused classroom—somewhere tucked behind the alchemy wing, the door creaking faintly shut behind him as dust motes swirl in the light. The desks are all pushed to the back, stacked like towers of forgotten effort, and Leona leans against one, dragging you in with a lazy tug around your waist.
“You’ve been ignoring me,” he accuses, voice low and thick, like he’s half-asleep—but his golden green eyes are very, very awake.
"I was studying," you breathe, barely getting the words out before he pulls you in the rest of the way.
His mouth finds yours with that slow-burning hunger that always leaves your knees weak. He kisses like he fights—possessive, measured, and way too confident. His hand slides up your back, keeping you flush against him, as if he’s daring you to try pulling away. You can taste the heat of the afternoon sun still clinging to his skin, that wild-sand scent of him curling around your senses.
Leona kisses like it’s something he deserves. Like you’re a prize he’s claimed and won’t be returning. He pulls back only to speak against your lips.
"You smell like ink and stress. I'm fixing that."
The makeout drags on—longer than you should allow. One of your hands ends up tangled in his hair, the other fisted in the fabric of his uniform coat. He doesn’t stop until you’re breathless, dazed, lips tingling.
When he finally lets you go, he’s got that smug grin, even as his thumb brushes your lower lip. “There. Now you’ve got something better to think about than test scores.”
You try to glare at him, but your heart’s still beating way too loud in your ears.
And Leona? He just stretches and yawns like this was all part of his nap schedule.
Jade Leech
It starts off innocently enough. You’re helping Jade carry potion ingredients to one of the smaller prep rooms near Octavinelle—some obscure mushroom extracts and strange marine flora with names you can't even pronounce. The corridor is damp and quiet, the kind of silence that feels like it’s listening.
Jade says something—soft, quiet, amused—as he opens the storage room. His eyes linger on you for a second too long, and that’s when you should’ve known. There’s something in the glint of his gaze, the way his smile stretches a touch too wide, his fingers brushing yours as he takes the last jar from your hands.
Then, click. The door closes behind you.
“Jade?” you ask, blinking in the dim glow of the potion room’s crystal lights.
His hands are on your waist in the next breath, fingers curling like vines. “Forgive me,” he says, voice smooth and deadly charming. “But I’ve been thinking about kissing you since this morning’s lecture.”
He tilts his head, watching your reaction with those sharp, mismatched eyes. You barely get out a sound before he leans in—and then his mouth is on yours, cool and commanding. Jade kisses with precision. Like he’s studied every reaction you’ve ever had, and now he’s crafting the perfect blend of teasing and temptation.
One hand stays on your lower back, the other rises to cradle your jaw as he deepens the kiss, drawing you further into him like the tide. There’s something unnerving about how calm he remains—even as his lips part yours, even as your breath hitches and your knees threaten to give way.
He chuckles softly against your mouth.
“Your heartbeat is quite fast,” he whispers, brushing his lips along the corner of your mouth, then to your neck. “Are you afraid? Or simply excited?”
You can’t answer—not with your brain fogged by the taste of him, the feel of his hands, the delicious chill of his voice echoing in your ear. The room smells faintly of sea-salt and mushrooms, and something deeply Jade—subtle, spiced, unsettling in the most intoxicating way.
Eventually, when he pulls back, your lips feel swollen and your thoughts scattered.
“You’re such a curious creature,” he murmurs, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “I should study you more often.”
You stumble out of that room later looking like you just got hit by a spell—and Jade? He walks out perfectly composed, with that same unnervingly polite smile on his face. Like he didn’t just wreck your entire nervous system with his mouth.
Floyd Leech
The day is too normal. You can feel it in the air—like the calm before one of Floyd’s storms.
You’re just walking past the Octavinelle hallway, when you feel arms suddenly wrap around your shoulders from behind—too fast, too tight, too Floyd.
“Shrimpyyyyyy~!” he sings against your ear, his voice stretching like taffy. “There you are~!”
You barely have time to react before he’s pulling you sideways—off course, off balance, and into some small, cramped janitor’s closet. It smells like cleaning supplies and old sea salt, and Floyd's eyes gleam in the dark like a predator who’s just cornered something tasty.
“Floyd, what are you doing—?”
“Shhhh,” he hums, pressing a finger to your lips. “I was bored.”
The door clicks shut behind him. You're trapped between the wall and Floyd’s looming grin.
“But now I’ve got you, and you’re way more fun.”
His hands are already on your waist, sliding under your jacket like he owns every inch of your skin. His lips crash into yours like a riptide—wild and messy and Floyd. There’s no rhythm, no pause, just overwhelming sensation. Teeth nip at your bottom lip. A low growl of amusement vibrates in his chest when you gasp.
He pulls back just an inch, enough to look at your kiss-swollen lips and flushed face. “Aww, lookit you,” he coos, voice syrupy and sharp. “All red like a little shrimp. Cute.”
You barely have time to reply before he's kissing you again, harder this time, like he’s trying to claim the breath from your lungs. The tight space only makes it hotter—his body pressed up against yours, nowhere to escape, nothing to focus on but the wild way he kisses you like he might eat you and like he might never stop.
At some point, his hat falls off, and your shirt is rumpled, and there’s laughter—his and yours—mingling between kisses. Floyd stops only when he feels like it, which means you’re left dazed and breathless while he sways lazily, totally unbothered.
“Mmm. You’re fun. Let’s do this again tomorrow, kay?”
He presses a soft, playful kiss to your cheek before throwing open the closet door like you weren’t just making out like lovesick criminals.
You’re pretty sure you’re not getting anything productive done today.
Vil Schoenheit
It happens during a late-night rehearsal.
Vil’s been directing the stage club with sharp eyes and sharper critique, and you’ve been running lines off to the side, helping, watching, admiring. He’s in his element—glowing even under harsh fluorescent lights, every motion graceful and deliberate. But every now and then, his gaze flicks toward you. Not long. Just a glance. A pause.
When the rehearsal ends and the others file out, exhausted and murmuring, Vil’s hand brushes yours as you help him gather props.
"You," he says, not even looking at you—just feeling you there. “With me.”
You blink, confused, but follow him anyway, up toward the costume closet at the back of the auditorium. The second the door clicks shut, he turns sharply, and suddenly, the air is very different.
“You’ve been distracting me all night,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “Do you enjoy driving me to the edge of my focus?”
“Vil—”
His name barely leaves your lips before he kisses you—hard, precise, intentional. There’s no hesitation, no test run. His mouth is demanding, confident, and so, so good. His fingers slip under your jaw, tilting your head just so, like he’s posing you for a photo—only this time, the only thing he’s interested in perfecting is the sound of your breath catching under him.
You make a small sound in the back of your throat and he hums approvingly.
“Pretty,” he says against your lips, voice like silk with thorns. “But I want more.”
You gasp when he kisses you again, this time deeper—pressing you gently but firmly against the back wall, surrounded by velvet capes and half-hung feather boas. His scent—rosewater, powder, and something earthy—completely envelopes you, and all you can think is that this is Vil, and he’s kissing you like he’s crafting a masterpiece.
When he finally pulls back, your lipstick’s smudged (if you had any on) and your knees are weak. He brushes your hair back into place with meticulous fingers and studies your flushed face with faint amusement.
“Tch,” he clicks his tongue, smoothing the collar of your shirt. “You’re an absolute mess. Honestly.”
But there’s a light in his eyes—a smug satisfaction—and before you can respond, he kisses you again, slow and teasing this time, like a reward.
As you leave the closet, he doesn’t hide the slight smug curve of his lips.
“You’ll be thinking about this all night,” he murmurs—and he's right.
Malleus Draconia
It starts with a storm. Of course it does.
You're walking across campus in the early evening, books tucked under your arm, clouds brooding overhead like they’ve been watching you. The wind picks up suddenly, ruffling your hair—and before you can even think of running for cover, a familiar voice calls your name.
You turn, and Malleus is already there.
There’s always something otherworldly about the way he appears—silent, graceful, like a dream blooming out of mist. “You're walking alone,” he says, like it's a crime. “Come. You'll catch cold.”
He doesn’t give you a chance to reply before he gently takes your wrist and leads you to a tucked-away building near the edge of campus—a half-forgotten stone structure, unused, echoing with the scent of dust and damp air. He pushes open the creaking door to a tiny, empty classroom. The windows rattle as thunder rolls in the distance.
“You shouldn’t wander in the storm,” he murmurs, voice deep and rich with ancient cadence. “Something might take you.”
And then he steps closer—like the storm outside is leaking into the room through his presence. He watches you carefully, like he's weighing the moment, deciding something. His hand lifts—long fingers tracing the edge of your jaw so lightly it gives you chills.
“I’ve been… yearning,” he confesses softly, the word hanging in the space like lightning just before it strikes. “May I…?”
You don’t have time to respond before he kisses you.
Malleus kisses with reverence—slow, deliberate, almost ceremonial. Like he’s not just kissing you—he’s binding you, like this moment is a spell only you and he will remember. His lips are cool at first, but warmth builds quickly, rushing into your chest as his hand slips around your waist to draw you closer.
He holds you like something precious—untouchable to the rest of the world. One hand pressed flat against the small of your back, the other cradling your face like he’s afraid you might vanish. His mouth moves against yours with growing intensity, every brush and sigh and pull deepening into something devastating.
The thunder cracks again, louder now.
“You’re trembling,” he whispers against your lips.
“No, I’m—” But you are. Whether it’s from him or the kiss or the storm, you’re not sure.
He leans in again, his forehead resting against yours.
“If I could… I would steal away time itself to keep us like this,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion that you can feel in his chest.
And in that moment, as lightning streaks across the sky outside the window, you almost believe he could.
Lilia Vanrouge
It happens so suddenly—because that’s just how Lilia is.
One second, you’re sitting together in the music room, flipping through a book while he plays idle chords on the piano. His voice is humming softly to the melody, his eyes flicking toward you now and then with a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
You feel it building—the way his gaze lingers longer, the way his fingers slow on the keys.
Then he stops playing entirely, shuts the piano lid, and smirks.
“Hmm… I think I’ve been very patient today.”
You blink. “Patient for what?”
“Oh? You haven’t noticed?” His grin sharpens like a blade. “How disappointing.”
He stands, strides across the room in two steps, and loops his arms around you before you can react. You let out a soft laugh, but he’s already hoisting you up and carrying you—not out of the room, no, but across to a small side door you’d never paid attention to before.
It opens with a creak into a cramped storage space filled with old sheet music and velvet curtains, lit by a single flickering light. Before you can ask what he’s up to, he shuts the door behind him, trapping you in the tiny room with him—and then he kisses you.
Lilia’s kisses are playful, but not light. No, no—he kisses like he’s taunting you and loving you all at once. A smirk against your lips, followed by a sudden tug on your collar. He bites just enough to make you gasp and then soothes the sting with a slow, languid kiss that has your spine arching off the wall.
“Mmh… That sound you made,” he whispers against your lips. “Let’s see if I can coax another one.”
Your hands scramble into his hair as he deepens the kiss, rolling his hips just enough to press you into the wall. He groans low and pleased when you react, his gloved hands sliding down your sides, teasing the hem of your shirt, his lips never leaving yours for more than a second.
Everything about him is tease and temptation. He kisses like a sin wrapped in velvet—like a lullaby you don’t want to wake from.
Eventually, he draws back—just barely—his breath brushing over your cheek as he chuckles.
“Well, that certainly chased away the boredom,” he says, clearly pleased with himself. “But now I want more…”
He kisses you again—quick and hard this time—and then winks.
“Better be careful, sweetheart. I may drag you in here again tomorrow. Or the day after. Or both.”
You step out of that storage room a mess—hair disheveled, lips tingling—and Lilia? He just whistles innocently and walks away with a spring in his step.
Note: I sat down to write cute flirty headcanons and instead accidentally wrote all of these guys having a romantic breakdown in about their crush being so oblivious about the flirting. 💀 Then I thought they where good and just decided to go with that as the prompt!
Trey Clover
It had been going on for weeks.
Subtle, harmless gestures at first—sharing his homemade treats, seeking you out in the hallways between classes, and always making sure there was a spare seat beside him at Heartslabyul’s long, rose-lined table. You always took it. Smiling up at him, laughing at his jokes, even leaning against his shoulder sometimes when the evenings stretched long and drowsy under the golden canopy of dusk.
And yet.
You were completely, utterly oblivious.
“You’re really good at baking, Trey,” you complimented one day as he handed you a small, ribbon-tied box of matcha-flavored sweets, his personal recipe he never shared. You bit into one, eyes lighting up in delight. “I don’t know how someone like you is still single.”
Despite the polite, affable smile he wore, a faint twitch of disbelief rippled across his temple. Trey had dropped so many hints—letting you taste frosting off his finger in the kitchen, gently brushing your hair out of your eyes when you leaned too close to the oven, even calling you “sweetheart” under his breath when you dozed off during a study session.
And yet, here you were. Thinking he was some domestic teddy bear.
The final straw came during a Heartslabyul tea party, when you reached over to wipe a crumb from the corner of his mouth with your thumb, completely unaware of how red his ears turned.
“You’re always such a mess after eating cake,” you scolded gently.
“You do realize,” he said slowly, looking into your eyes with a rare, unreadable intensity, “that I only ever bring you the first slice.”
“Huh? I just thought I was lucky!” you grinned.
That did it.
He leaned in, lowering his voice as he caged you between the chair and the hedge behind. His gloved hand gently tipped your chin up. “I’ve been flirting with you for months,” he murmured. “How much more obvious do I have to be, shortcake?”
Your mouth dropped open. “Wha—wait, what?!”
Trey laughed softly, finally letting his forehead rest against yours, the tension melting into something warm, golden, and soft. “I swear, you’re sweeter than my tarts and twice as dense.”
Cater Diamond
“Okay, I give up,” Cater announced dramatically, collapsing face-down on the common room couch. “I’ve tried everything, and they still don’t get it.”
From behind his phone screen, he peeked at you sitting nearby, nose buried in a magazine, completely unaware of his suffering.
It had started as a game at first—light teasing, exaggerated winks, the occasional compliment laced with glittering charm.
“Looking good today, babe~” he’d say, snapping a selfie of the two of you while slinging an arm around your shoulders.
“Thanks, Cater! You look amazing too, as always!”
But you always said it like a friend. With zero hesitation, zero fluster, zero realization. You treated his affection like background noise—a quirk of his personality.
Even when he’d rested his head in your lap after a long day and looked up at you with dreamy, sleepy eyes and whispered, “You’d make a perfect boyfriend, y'know... if you’d let me,” you just chuckled and patted his hair.
“Aw, Cater, that’s sweet. You’d be a great boyfriend for someone, definitely.”
Someone.
SOMEONE.
He practically screamed into his pillow when he got back to his dorm that night.
Every day since then had been a desperate escalation. He started bringing you your favorite snacks, styling your hair for fun, sending you good morning texts with pet names like “sunshine” or “my star.” You responded with gifs. Gifs.
Finally, in a move of last-ditch desperation, he planned the boldest romantic gesture he could think of.
Cater rented out the photo booth in town, the one with the glitter backgrounds and soft lighting. He dragged you inside under the pretense of wanting “a bestie shoot,” and waited for the moment the countdown began.
Three…
Two…
One—
He turned, cupped your face, and kissed your cheek.
Click. Flash.
You blinked at him.
“Cater?? What was that for?”
He stared.
“No, seriously. Are you okay? Did you think I was sad or something? You can talk to me, y’know.”
Cater threw his hands up and groaned.
“You’re the one I like!! You! Not as a friend, not as a selfie buddy, not as a human pillow—I like you, you dense little cinnamon bun!”
Your eyes widened. “Wait. Are you flirting with me?”
He looked like he aged five years in five seconds.
“Yes. YES, BABE. That’s what the last four months were. Flirting. Full-throttle, heart-eyes, rom-com level flirting!”
“…Oh.”
A pause. Then, sheepishly:
“So… wanna take another photo? This time, maybe I kiss you on the lips?”
Cater blinked at your soft smile and the way your hand found his.
And just like that, every ounce of frustration melted into sparkly euphoria. “Oh my Seven,” he whispered with a grin. “Finally.”
Leona Kingscholar
Leona was not a man known for patience. In fact, most of the time, he prided himself on getting what he wanted with the least amount of effort. He was sharp, cunning, and confident enough to know that most people would bend over backward just to get a sliver of his attention. So when he set his sights on you—you, with your soft laugh, bright eyes, and completely clueless smile—he assumed it would be easy.
It wasn’t.
It started small. He’d lounge in the botanical gardens where he knew you always came to study. He made sure to growl off anyone else who might sit nearby, leaving the two of you in your own little secluded corner. He'd toss you the occasional compliment, his voice lazy and low.
“Tch. That look suits you, herbivore. Finally got some style.”
You’d blink at him with that warm, clueless grin. “Oh? Thanks, Leona. My friend helped me pick this outfit.”
He resisted the urge to growl. Again.
Then he escalated. He’d sit closer—closer than anyone would consider “just friends.” He'd drop hints laced with suggestion, his amber eyes narrowing when you remained oblivious. He once even played with your hair, idly running his fingers through it while you yawned and continued taking notes on magical herbology.
It got to the point where Ruggie cornered you in the hallway, shaking his head in disbelief. “You seriously don’t get it? He’s basically marking his territory every time you’re near!”
“Huh? Leona? Nah, he’s just... touchy sometimes.”
Leona nearly tore his textbooks in half when he heard that.
The final straw came one warm afternoon when you plopped down beside him under the shade of a sprawling tree. You smiled and passed him a snack you'd made, and Leona, in a bold move of desperation and hunger for your attention, leaned down and bit into it directly from your hand, eyes locked on yours the entire time.
You just blinked and said, “You must’ve been really hungry!”
Leona threw himself backward into the grass with a groan, covering his eyes with his arm.
“Seven hells, you’re dense,” he muttered.
“Huh?”
He sat up again, eyes narrowed, voice husky. “Do I need to spell it out for you, herbivore? I’m not just hanging around you ‘cause I’m bored. I’m trying to get you to notice me.”
You tilted your head, confused. “But I do notice you…”
“No,” he growled, grabbing your wrist gently but firmly, tugging you closer. “Notice me. As in, I want you. You. Me. Together. You seriously didn’t get that?”
You froze. And then it hit you like a freight train. The closeness, the compliments, the touches, the possessiveness—
“Oh... OH.”
Leona smirked, fangs glinting in the sun. “Took you long enough.”
Vil Schoenheit
Vil was always graceful, always poised, always in control. He calculated every step, every glance, every smile. So naturally, when he decided to pursue you, he did it with the same precision he applied to a stage performance or a red-carpet event. Subtle glances, gentle compliments, a brush of his fingers across your shoulder. It was a slow-burning courtship that he expected would sweep you off your feet.
But instead?
Nothing.
Nothing but your charming smile and occasional, completely unbothered “Thank you, Vil!” or “You’re so sweet!” before skipping off to your next class.
He chalked it up to modesty at first. Maybe you were shy. Maybe you wanted to play hard to get. But by week three, when he sent you a handpicked bouquet of enchanted roses and you gave them to Professor Trein’s cat because “it matched her fur,” Vil nearly fainted on the spot.
So, he got bolder.
One afternoon, he strode into your dorm’s common room while you were curled up on a couch with a book. Wordlessly, he slipped beside you and sat right in your lap, settling as gracefully as ever, legs crossed, arm lazily draped around your shoulders.
You blinked. “Are you tired? You can sit here as long as you need.”
Vil’s eye twitched.
“Tired? No, darling, I wanted to sit somewhere comfortable and charming. Surely you understand the appeal.” He leaned in, his breath tickling your ear. “Or is my lap too forward for your delicate sensibilities?”
You laughed lightly. “Nope! You’re light. I didn’t even notice the weight. Kinda like a cat. A really fashionable one.”
Fashionable cat?!
Vil nearly stood up right then and there, scandalized. But no—he took a deep breath. Composure. Poise.
Until you reached up and started patting his head.
“You’re so pretty, Vil. I hope I can be as pretty as you one day.”
“…I’m not trying to be ‘pretty like you,’ I’m trying to be yours,” he hissed in exasperation, face dangerously close to yours.
You blinked again. “Wait… what?”
Vil’s patience finally snapped like a taut ribbon.
“For the love of all that is radiant—I have been flirting with you for months. I’ve complimented you, made time for you, bought you gifts, and now I am literally sitting on your lap! What more must I do? Wear a sign that says ‘I want to be yours’?”
You gaped at him.
“…I thought you were just naturally dramatic.”
Vil groaned, burying his face in your neck. “You’ll be the death of me.”
You awkwardly wrapped your arms around him, finally catching on. “Wait, so… you like me?”
He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, expression softening ever so slightly. “I more than like you. But you, sweet potato, are so hopelessly dense.”
You laughed nervously, cheeks burning. “I’m really sorry… but, um… I like you too. I just didn’t think you’d like someone like me.”
Vil huffed, but a genuine smile curled on his lips. “Well, you’re mine now. And you’ll never be oblivious again, because I won’t give you the chance to miss it.”
Rook Hunt
To Rook, this was a challenge—a delicious, exquisite one.
He was well aware of how utterly unaware you were. The first time he realized, it was during archery club. He complimented the way your arms flexed as you pulled the bowstring, his tone sultry, his gaze locked on you like you were his prey.
You grinned and said, “Haha, thanks! I’ve been working out my shoulders. Good for posture!”
He tilted his head, lips curled in amusement. “Ah, ma colombe, you are truly a creature of mystery~”
But instead of giving up, Rook only doubled down. He started leaving flowers at your desk with poetic notes—sometimes with metaphors so thick they practically screamed “I am in love with you!”
You just thought it was a Rook thing.
“You’re so sweet! You write such beautiful stuff. Have you thought of joining the poetry club?”
Poetry club…?! Mon dieu, I am baring my soul!
He even tried the "accidental touch" method—fingers brushing yours when passing a book, hands lingering too long during sparring practice. Yet you never reacted with more than a casual smile and a “You okay?”
And Rook? He found it thrilling.
“This unawareness… this resistance… c’est magnifique!” he whispered one day, watching you from the balcony like a Shakespearean ghost. “You are like a doe in the forest, unaware of the eyes that follow you in reverent adoration…”
The final straw was when he kissed the back of your hand under the moonlight after walking you to your dorm. With an air of mystery and drama, he looked into your eyes and murmured, “Bonsoir, ma lumière…”
You giggled. “Wow, you really should join the drama club. That delivery was incredible.”
Rook clutched his chest like he’d been shot, but he was laughing too. Of course. Of course you didn’t get it.
But that just made him want you more.
“I shall make it my mission to pierce through the veil of innocence that blinds you, mon trésor,” he declared to the stars. “You will see me—not as a friend, not as a fellow student—but as the man who has adored you all this time.”
Idia Shroud
It was exhausting trying to flirt with someone who didn’t even realize you were the final boss in their dating sim.
Idia never considered himself bold—not IRL, anyway. Most of his romantic experience came from watching his OTPs go through slow-burn arcs in visual novels or tragic anime love stories. But when it came to you, he was trying. Like, genuinely. In his own glitchy, socially awkward way.
He’d wait outside your classroom “totally coincidentally” with his tablet in hand, acting like he wasn’t tracking your class schedule to the minute. He even upgraded Ortho’s AI recognition software just to find excuses to walk past you more often. He quoted romantic lines from his favorite games to you, hoping you’d get it—but every single time?
You’d just blink. Smile. Nod like he was being cute.
“Oh, that line was so poetic! Is that from a movie or something?”
“B-bro that’s from Stellar Lust IV! The confession scene where the star-crossed lovers reunite under a dying moon! Are you seriously not…? Nvm.”
One afternoon, he got bold. He invited you to his room. That alone should’ve been a confession—no one entered his sacred gaming lair unless they had maximum trust level.
He cleared off a place on the bed, installed RGB mood lighting, even had anime OSTs playing softly in the background. He hyped himself up for weeks for this. He was going to drop a flirt so obvious, even a level 1 NPC could read it.
“So, u-uh, you ever wonder what it’d be like to… y’know… date a genius tech prince who could hack into the city grid just to turn all the traffic lights green for you?”
You tilted your head. “That sounds dangerous… but also kind of cool? Is this part of your new game concept?”
He.exe stopped working.
The blue flames of his hair turned pink for half a second before sizzling back.
He mumbled something incoherent and turned back to his computer, pulling his hoodie so far over his head he looked like a turtle. “N-no, yeah, that was just… haha… worldbuilding...”
He’d keep trying though. One day, he’d craft a cutscene so perfect, even you couldn’t ignore the affection coded into every line.
Malleus Draconia
Malleus was not used to being ignored. Or overlooked. Or, heaven forbid—misunderstood. He was the Crown Prince of Briar Valley, the most feared and powerful student on campus. And yet, here he was, casting ancient spells to conjure glowing roses and coaxing fireflies into hearts over your tea cup—only for you to respond with:
“Wow, Malleus! You always make things so aesthetic!”
He blinked. "Aesthetic?"
“Yeah! Super vibey. You should be a party planner.”
He nearly short-circuited.
This had been happening for weeks. He’d memorized your schedule, just so he could “coincidentally” be where you were. He’d offer to walk you home under the stars, hoping for soft-spoken confessions—but you only asked him if he thought raccoons had hierarchies in their little trash kingdoms.
...You were enchanting. But you were driving him mad.
One day, after finding yet another love poem he’d slipped into your book returned with grammar corrections (you thought he was practicing his prose), he decided on something bold. Direct. Unmistakable.
“Child of man,” Malleus said one twilight evening as you both sat beneath a tree, “if I were to tell you that my heart beats differently in your presence, that the night air tastes sweeter when you laugh—what would you say?”
You tilted your head, thinking. “I’d say you have a really poetic way of saying you like hanging out.”
“I do not merely like hanging out,” he said slowly, brow twitching. “I wish to court you.”
You stared. “Like… on trial?”
“…Romantically.”
“Ohhhh.”
Silence.
“Wait, me?!”
Malleus closed his eyes and inhaled. Patience. He could wait a thousand years more. But hopefully not.
Lilia Vanrouge
Lilia Vanrouge had seen centuries of war, peace, love, loss—and yet nothing, nothing, had prepared him for the sheer unshakable obliviousness that was you.
It started innocently enough.
He’d toss a wink your way whenever he passed by in the hallway. He brought you little trinkets from the village during his off-campus ventures—flowers woven into chains, sweets with hearts drawn on the wrappers, one time even a hairpin shaped like a bat. You had smiled and thanked him with the kind of radiant purity that could blind a mortal man. And then you tucked the bat hairpin in your pencil case.
Your pencil case. Like he was a math worksheet and not a 700+ year old fae trying to court you.
Still, he found it endearing. You were cute in a way that made his ageless heart ache, and he loved a challenge. So he tried harder.
“You know,” he drawled one afternoon, leaning over your shoulder with a voice like velvet, “in my youth, a suitor might serenade their beloved beneath the moonlight.”
“That’s sweet,” you said, eyes on your textbook. “Did they ever get noise complaints?”
He blinked. “...Noise complaints?”
“Well, if it was late and they were singing outside someone’s window… I bet a lot of people weren’t exactly swooning.”
For a moment, Lilia just stared at you. And then he burst out laughing, so hard he had to wipe a tear from his eye.
“You are either brilliantly teasing me,” he chuckled, “or heartbreakingly naive.”
You smiled at him, not understanding in the slightest.
The final straw came when he invited you for a midnight flight—romantic, intimate, just the two of you soaring above the moon-drenched trees. You screamed with laughter and clung to him the entire way, yelling about how cool it was and how friends like him were the best.
“Friends,” Lilia repeated afterward, voice soft and low as you happily ate the little picnic he’d prepared.
You looked up. “Yeah. I’m lucky to have you.”
He sighed with a small, defeated smile, but his eyes were warm. “The luck,” he murmured, “is all mine, dear.”
Leona pinning headcanons with a reader who follows him round pretty please!1!1>-<
Leona with a reader who follows him around
Pairing Leona Kingscholar x GN!reader
Word count: 758
Cw- Leona is a sad sad man/endearing, fluff, reader is not specified to be yuu, not proofread.
A/n: I got a lil carried away while writing so this is more of a ramble than headcanons 🦭 also for some reason my asks got wiped so for everyone who had an req earlier I'm sorry 😞!! They are still open !
Leona didn't know how to feel about you at first, truly you were a mystery to him. He couldn't figure out what your motives were. Seriously no one else came up to them. They'd usually be too scared to even come up to him. And when they do they always want something from him.
It's always been that way so Leona honestly didn't care anymore he'd either just walk away or give them a glare that sent them running with their tails tucked between their legs.
But you? Sevens he didn't even know what to do with you. He couldn't figure out a single thing you could have possibly wanted from him. You're always following him around.
At first he was annoyed. Everywhere he went your bubbly presence followed. You always asked him questions and he couldn't stand it. Seriously, he didn't know what to do with you.
He'd tell Ruggie to stay on the lookout for you but it never worked. He honestly believed he let it happen on purpose. At one point he tried to pay you to leave him alone.
You shocked him by shaking your head and telling him you just like being around him. No, you had to want something from him? He just grumbled and turned over and proceeded to try and go back to sleep.
He tried to ignore the way his heart beat increased slightly. He wasn't used to being…wanted.
Leona used to roll his eyes whenever you'd talk about him to others like you were friends. Now he just looks away as his tail flickered slightly in embarrassment. Ruggie would tease him about how you practically followed him around like some lost puppy, and tease him on how he stopped trying to push you away.
“Don't tell me you've gone soft!”
He hasn't…he just got used to your presence. It's more odd if you stopped coming around. Totally not because he's become attached to you. Not because he's scared if he even pretends to push you away you'll actually leave.
Leona can't help but linger around you as well, the few times you're not following him around he's following you around. He doesn't make it obvious…unless there's someone else getting too much of your attention.
He'll admit it he does get jealous. He knows what being jealous feels like, but he's always been jealous of what people have and yeah sure he's been jealous of lack of attention as a child but this. This is different.
Leona would loom over you intimidating whoever was taking your attention from him, or head straight up you just to drag you away from them.
He is in pure denial that he likes you…he's just fascinated by you and your nature. He likes whenever you chirpily talk to him while trying hard to keep up with his stride.
He won't admit to anyone that he feels disappointed whenever he wakes up from a nap and you haven't somehow found him.
Leona isn't in love be just…wants to kiss that still smile off your face whenever you're ranting. He's not in love, he just wants all your attention. He's not in love, he just wants to drag you down with him while he sleeps. He is not in love, he just wants to call you his. Leona.is.not.in love.
(At least that's what he tells himself)
Leona eventually accepts the reality of his feelings when you two were sitting down at lunch and you told him about how someone had asked you out. He nearly choked on his food. He decided right then and there that he'd tell you how he feels.
However he didn't know why but telling you flat out was…hard? He'd just grumbled and continued eating. Ruggie chuckled to himself watching the way Leona's tail flickered in aggravation.
From then he tries so hard to drop hints that he doesn't just tolerate you. You're not naive but sevens it was like you couldn't drop a single hint he gave you.
Leona was so pathetic he just wanted you. Why couldn't you see that? Weren't the gifts not a sign? The fact that he once offered you to nap with him. Yeah he doesn't know what he's doing and even thinks about going to Ruggie but immediately back tracks.
The next time he sees you he just straight up grabs you by the shoulders.
“Herbivore, I like you.”
“I mean I sure hope you do, we're friends right?”
...
You're killing him. He hangs his head in defeat…maybe he should go to Ruggie.
