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confused-pyramid · 22 hours

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Breaking Point

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...

word count: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking

a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!

You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.

Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.

"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."

You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."

He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."

The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.

He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.

"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."

He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.

A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."

He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.

You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.

***

He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.

Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.

"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."

You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."

Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.

"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.

You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."

You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.

He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"

You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.

"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."

Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."

You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."

You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.

You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.

He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.

"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."

He doesn't move.

It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.

Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."

Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.

After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.

Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.

"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."

"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.

You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.

"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"

Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.

Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.

You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."

He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."

You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."

"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.

"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"

His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."

You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."

You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.

***

You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.

He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.

His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.

You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-

The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.

People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.

Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.

When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.

***

You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.

You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.

There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."

"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."

He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.

"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.

He shakes his head. "I'm good."

You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.

Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.

"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.

He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."

"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."

"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."

That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."

"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."

His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"

You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."

His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.

Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.

If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.

Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.

Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.

"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."

It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.

By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.

"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."

He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.

His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.

His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.

He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.

You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.

"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."

Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.

He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.

He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.

The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.

He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.

His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.

He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.

You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.

Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.

Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.

His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.

After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.

You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.

"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."

"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."

You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.

You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.

#art donaldson smut #art donaldson #challengers #challengers smut #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x fem!reader #challengers fanfiction #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson x you

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onlycosmere · 2 months

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BlackCoffeeBulb: you'll get him sued for copyright infringement for a few useless internet points, congrats

mpkeith : It's free advertising...

"Where did the name Wind Runner come from?"

"Well, there are these amazing books..."

So far (to my knowledge) nobody has been sued for Bridge Four homemade stuff, fan art, 3D printed shard blades and so on.

I really don't think Brandon Sanderson is that kind of guy. Seems to me he's happy to share with all of us his work.

Brandon Sanderson: I have expressly permitted it, in fact. I had a lawyer draw up as liberal a fanart policy as I could make, and not scare away people like film companies. Basically, you can create whatever you want for your personal use, and can even sell some form of fanart so long as you're not using me or implied relationship with me in the marketing.

Do look at the official language in my FAQ, though, as opposed to taking my (flawed) memory on how it works. Either way, no, I'm not going to ever be bothered by individual fan creations, and instead encourage them. And something like this far is a huge mark of respect from the owner, toward me.

gsauce8: So essentially as long as you're not saying something along the lines of "Officially licensed" or anything close to that, you're good to go? That's freaking awesome.

Brandon Sanderson: It's a little more tricky than that--I let the lawyers hash it out. But basically, you can't use our artwork, our branding, and can't say it's official. But you CAN sell art prints of art you made of characters/scenes from the books, even if they include things like Kaladin's scars or a Bridge Four patch. You don't need a license, and you don't owe us anything.

It's a legal grey area that I want to make less grey. I like fanart, and want to encourage it--and in so doing, feel like an artist making something transformative like this should be able to profit from their art. Yes, my books inspired that art--but other books inspired me to write, as did films and artwork. This is how art is created.

Mostly, this applies to thinks like prints right now. (We haven't authorized T-shirts, for example, as that kind of thing gets really tricky with movie deals wanting merchandising rights.) Again, read the exact language on the FAQ, but we've tried to be as lenient here as we can be.

Also, I have no problem with fanfic, so long as it remains in the fan realm, rather than being sold. (But if you write something awesome, and readers like it, I'd encourage you to change the names/setting and rebrand it as your own so you could sell it.)

#the stormlight archive #cfsbf #root #cosmere #words of radiance #brandon sanderson #branderson #wob #kind of #cosmere merch

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postplus-protest · 5 months

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So, if you haven't read the latest - Post Plus is officially dead. The burial looks to be around January 2024.

I'm neither happy or sad about it. If anything, I'm feeling more of something akin to relief. Running a "viral “misinformation” campaign" as The Verge and Daddy Matt called this little operation has been taxing. For the record, and as I've stated multiple times, I didn't have much of a problem with P+ in general. I just thought it was a bad idea when the lifeblood of the site is gifs and fandom. There was bound to be mixing of fandom and paywalls (it was even encouraged in the earliest days by staff) and that was going to end badly somewhere down the line. Sorry but that's just the way I was taught of fandom in the geocities days. Then again, I obviously wasn't the only one who shared those feeling but I digress.

It's over now.

No more subposting and snarky tagging by either sides. No more 'undercover staffers' in my inbox. No more users thinking I'm the antichrist because they think I'm interfering with their inevitable influencer status that they hoped to gain by posting Instagram type shit behind a $1.99 block.

It's all thankfully over. I'll be deleting this little blog in February, so reblog anything you might need later. I would love to see my "make art" post hit 10,000 notes before then but we'll see. It was my proudest moment in all of this. In the beginning, I considered revealing my private tumblr at the end but I think I'll keep that secret.

And lastly,

You were all great. All of you, even the ones that hated my guts. I won't say it was fun but it was fascinating being apart of something that generated so much passion. Keep being you, make art, and be messy. Be fantastic.

Much love,

Auntie Triple-P

#on to the next adventure always

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choochooboss · 1 year

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Submas sketchdump! Vol. 1

April-June 2022

Literally dumping all the presentable works as promised, whether I'm proud of them or not! This is where I started, even before the first thing I posted online (That subway station one). Many of these are not on Twitter yet so there's lots to see!

The top piece above the header is my very first digital Submas artwork!! I never finished it bc I didn't know how to pull my vision of as I wanted & started modeling the train and didn't finish that either, whoops! I really want to remake this later and make it super cool!

^^^ My reaction to breaking 500 likes & 100 followers in a single day with my first tweet (the battle subway one) all the way back in May!! I was completely floored by all the attention, oh how it skyrocketed my excitement and anxiety! Crazy times, I was so super nervous to be there with so many amazing artists and doubted if I could ever survive there ahahah!! Many had joined the community much much earlier than me, so I had arrived with a late train to PLA/neo Submas hype!

Next up is a bunch of stuff I haven't posted before:

One of my fav sketches! Been saving this for so long bc I really really want to finish this one day!

One of the first submas sketches with an actual story behind it! The subway bosses are running late for their flight because they didn't pass the safety check! The irony!! This would never happen as bosses are always on schedule. But Emmet hadn't noticed a wild Joltik hiding under his coat, so he set up the alarm and they got examined and interrogated of smuggling! How embarrassing for them! The bosses resolved the situation by catching the Joltik, but will they be able to catch their flight anymore?? Maybe if Elesa can distract the stuerts performing the safety protocol for a minute!

More sketchbook stuff...

In case you can't make any sense of it, Emmet's dreaming of different combinations of pokémon. Meanwhile Ingo snores louder than the train! HONK SHOO!

Top 7 every submas fan draws at some point!

Submas trademark posing

submas sleeping in a train

sad Emmet

Emmet with Joltik

Ingo with a cool solo pose

Emmet being chaotic & Ingo reacting to it

a bunch of mirrored submas poses

I sure have a full bingo card lmao, most of them you can see here XD

Next up is a sad man...

Stay strong our friends!

My typical sketchbook pages, crammed and messy as usual. x)

Post-PLA exploration:

A few examples of how my pencil sketches evolve.

I've done so much art experimenting with submas. I really like this black & white painting but I don't think I'll finish it anytime soon.

Where did you go?

The way I draw the twins' faces has changed a lot. They started with softer features and somewhat neutral emotions, because I wasn't as familiar with them or comfortable drawing them yet. Now there's hundreds of submas sketches, and they still keep evolving! My style is also kinda hard to pull off well, so their features differ from picture to picture.

This one was inspired by some submas music videos, can't recall their names anymore. The glowing eerie eyes and yellow&orange + black&white color schemes were neat!

I keep telling myself I need to draw more butlers, these twinks look so lean and neat and have more color and are posh with their monocles and have fun tailcoats!

(...why eyeglasses are not called binocles??)

I was there for the vinegar chaos. Good times!

That's all for now, I hope you got something fun out of this! Still got loads more art to share but I'll save them for another time. Next round I'll bring in my first submas comic!

#submas #sbms #submas ingo #submas emmet #pokemon ingo #pokemon emmet #subway boss ingo #subway boss emmet #ingo and emmet #sketch dump #chandelure #archeops #sinistea #submas butlers #butler ingo #butler emmet #too many ideas #butlermas

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months

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AITA for not giving my fictosexual friend their F/O in the MudaeBot?

My friends and I are all in a shared discord server and one of the bots we have is Mudae where you can collect your favorite characters. I won't specify characters so they won't see this and know, but anyway the one friend this is about claimed a wish of mine. I had a few characters from a fandom they like but they refused to trade me my wished character no matter how much I begged. I even offered to make them art or customs in return for it, but they blatantly refused and just said they'd hold onto it until I got something worthy.

Well after a bit, I lost interest in the fandom and that character, my fixation fading. They don't know this though, just that I've stopped drawing art for it.

Now I know they've identified as fictosexual for a long while, even before we met and they have their list of partners public on their carrd with their own sections and everything. They have most of them wished, but not all of them could fit so there's kind of an unwritten rule to just claim the character for them if you roll it.

Which is why I may be the asshole here, a friend rolled one of their unwished F/O's and I claimed it since that friend already used their claim. The fictosexual friend obviously found out and tried to trade me the charcater I had wished, but like I said I was no longer fixated and didn't care for it anymore, so I said no. I planned on just being a bit of a dick to them so they could feel what I feel for a bit, but they threw a huge tantrum about it and threatened to leave the server which honestly just made me double down lmao. They're really upset with me and saying that since I'm not fictosexual they don't understand what it feels like for them to see me married to their F/O, and that it's different from them claiming a character I was simply hyperfixated on. They're right about me not being fictosexual but I don't see why them being it gives them some kind of barrier the rest of don't get.

Either way I still haven't given them the F/O and I even managed to claim a wished F/O from them too when they were sleeping which has just exasperated the situation. My friends have dm'd me saying the tension in the server is awful, and I should apologize and just give them the characters saying I'm being really phobic to the friend by denying them their F/Os and even just marrying them in front of them when I know they're together is deeply upsetting to them. They've been withdrawn because of it, and won't even join us in VC anymore if I'm there.

I do want the tension in the server to end, but I still don't see why I should give them the character when they've been terrible to me about a character I wanted.

So, what I'm asking is it really that different if they're fictosexual and I'm not? And if so, AITA for marrying their F/Os and keeping them?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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cuddl3s4shur1 · 10 months

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•𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋•

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Earth 1610 Miles X Y/n

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎:You and miles have been crushing on each other for the longest but now , he finally admits it .

𝐀/𝐍: This is so freaking cute

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Fluff

Miles and You have a very confusing relationship. You guys both like eachother but the thing is , you guys are both scared to confuse.

Y'all both cant read the room at all. You guys both give hints on liking each other . But yall are blind to see them.

You guys have 2 classes together and in those 2 classes with the help of your friends , he knows some stuff you like.

For example he knows you like marvel but specifically spider man , he definitely was going to be good with that one

He knew you like movies , music and art ( all things he also enjoyed)

He knew you liked food ( who wouldn't )

That all created a plan for miles (that he haven't thought of just yet )

He decied to ask his dad for the best advice.

“So uh dad its this girl at my school and I want to try to ask her out tommorow , any tips“ he asks

“Are you talking about that Y/n girl “Miles dad asks him

“Yeah” miles smiles

“I like her , you can buy her a bouquet of flowers and her favorite items” he tells miles .

“Thanks dad” he smiles and would walk off .

Miles would follow the advice from his father and would place a custom order of a spider man bouquet .

He would wait for the next day to shine , so he could ask you out.

As he went to school he would swing by and grab the flowers, a card , and if you said yes movie tickets.All those items would be stored in his locker.

Time would tick and tick by as he waited for which hour he wanted to ask you . He didn’t want to by Infront of people or in any classes Yall share .

Which left a couple of options but the one he decided was his 6th class . He had waited a good 15 minutes before asking if he could go to the bathroom. He wasn’t really going to go to the bathroom but his locker than the stair way .

He would send a message to your phone hoping you either had your phone on you or your smart watch.

“Meet me at the stairway “ he had sent .

You would get confused , why did he need to meet you , what was going on .

“Excuse me can I go to the bathroom “ you would ask your teacher. “Make it quick y/n” she demanded from you . You would get you and go to the “bathroom” .

You walked to the stairway and that’s when you saw him . Miles standing their with flowers,plushie and a card. “Is this for me” you ask him . “Yes” he says as gives it you. “For as long as I have been at this school you have always made me happy and smile and I’m asking if you would like to go out with me this Saturday “ he says and smiles .

“I can never turn down a invite “ you say . “Plus I also like you to “ you tell him.”oh did you “ he asks . “Yes , I’m guessing I meet you at your parents house before the movie “ you ask him. “You know it” he says awkwardly. “Text me the details you said as you gave him your number . “Let’s go before the principal sees us out here “ he jokes to you .

“Oh your so right “ you say as you go to your locker to put the items away. “You go after miles before he fully goes in class . “Thanks for everything “ you smile and give him a hug . At first he is confused but than he gives you a hug back .

Let’s just say that day miles was so happy people would have suspected he won the lottery.

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