#going to stare this piece forever actually

[lucidrmss]

extra credit. II 7.3k armin arlert x reader

cw: 18+ explicit content minors dni, nerdmin x baddie reader, reader insert but no use of y/n, unprotected sex, female pronouns/afab reader, vaginal sex, oral sex, nipple piercing, possessive armin, bit of dirty talk, bit of fluff. university/college au.

summary: No one saw it coming. Not your roommate. Not your on-and-off ex situationship. Not even the judgmental girl with a color-coded planner who’s clearly in love with him.

But somehow, the cardigan-wearing, note-taking, blushy boy wonder of your Comparative Politics class caught your attention. And that’s saying something, because you’re not exactly known for quiet crushes or gentle flirting — being a tattooed, sharp-tongued, braless baddie with a GPA just as high as your standards.

After a sketchy dude corners you at a party, Armin Arlert — the last person you expected — swoops in like a flannel-clad knight in awkward armor. That moment sparks a chaotic, and unexpectedly tender journey involving fake study sessions, thigh tattoos, jealous glances, and one painfully adorable nerd who may or may not be packing more than just a well-organized Google Drive.

Let them stare. Let them whisper. You’re not letting this one go.

notes: i'm here with part 2, longer and dirtier! a had to edit it all again that's why it took forever. hope u like it <3

<part I

You were totally going to be chill today.

The library dates have grown to you, you actually like to study, just know how to balance it with nights out. But this is comfortable, sharing opinions and having someone to actually listen to it, not with a surprised face like it's uncommon to wear short skirts and be able to develop intellectual opinions, but sharing deep conversations and with Armin, it's easy.

In fact, you could sit there and talk about how you custom-made a piece of clothing you thrifted last week and he'd look at you with his big, bright eyes as if you were describing how you accidentally discovered the cure for cancer.

So the study dates? is just a excuse to sit close and have him speak in that low voice to you. With your coffee, wearing your least intimidating crop top, you told yourself: Don’t flirt. don’t provoke. just study.

As you scan the library, you notice that everything is quiet, being it a friday afternoon. Or it was quiet, ‘cause you accidentally made eye contact with a damn Jean Kirstein who had the audacity to wink at you in front of Armin.

Look away, ignore it. Maybe he'll get the hit and don't be a menace for once in his lifetime. Is that asking for too much? the footsteps approaching your table 10 seconds later answered yes.

“Damn, babe. If I'd known study sessions with nerds made you this hot, I’d’ve volunteered months ago,” he says, teeth flashing as he leans on your library table like he owns it.

You glance up from your notes and deadpan, “if you knew how to read, Jean, maybe you’d be here for the actual material.”

Jean laughs — loud and easy, not offended in the slightest. “Always such a flirt. But hey, if the blondie here ever needs a break, I got room for a real tutor.”

You’re already mid-eye roll when you hear it.

“I think she’s fine with the one she has.”

Oh?

You blink, slowly.

Jean raises his brows, mock-innocent. “Whoa. Okay, Professor Armin. Relax.”

Armin doesn’t even look up. “Maybe don’t hit on people while they’re trying to learn.”

You wait for Armin to blush and backpedal like he always does. He doesn’t.

Instead, he adjusts his glasses, underlines something in your shared textbook, and leans a little closer to you. You feel his shoulder touch yours — light, intentional.

Your stomach flips.

Jean watches the interaction, then snorts. “Well, shit. Didn’t realize this was exclusive.”

Armin looks him dead in the eye.

“It is.”

Excuse you? You nearly knock your iced coffee over.

Jean lifts his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Jesus. Nerd got game. I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.”

When he walks off, you just stare at Armin.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says, not meeting your gaze. “Just tired of guys thinking they can talk to you like that.” he sounds annoyed, eyes still focused on the open textbook but he looks distracted, jaw clenched, a vein popping out of his throat.

A quiet nerdy man who wears glasses and has a possessive agenda? You couldn't make that shit up, no even in your wildest dreams.

You’re quiet for a second. “You jealous, baby?”

Armin finally looks at you. Really look at you.

And for the first time since that almost-kiss, you see it again — the heat behind his eyes. The one that doesn’t match the shy smiles and physics flashcards. The one that makes you ache.

“I don’t like sharing” he murmurs.

Jesus Christ.

That got you shivering, shyly looking away. He just clears his throat and continues to read to you, like that moment didn't happen. Only his thigh touching yours under the table.

The thing about college parties is that they’re basically controlled chaos. Like, sure, someone brought Cards Against Humanity and another guy made jungle juice in a mop bucket — but it’s fine! Everything’s fine!

Especially when Armin shows up wearing that soft gray sweater that hugs his shoulders just right, and you remember why you bothered to come out in the first place.

You’re wearing all black again. Cropped halter. Knee-high platform boots. A leather jacket you definitely don’t need. He spots you across the room, fiddling with the rim of a red Solo cup, and you swear his whole face lights up. Soft-ass nerd, you think — fondly, stupidly, like some lovesick schoolgirl. The contrast between you two is kinda hot tho.

“Hey,” he says when he reaches you, out of breath from squeezing through the crowd. “You look…”

He trails off.

You arch an eyebrow. “I look?”

His mouth opens. Closes.

You step closer and smile with dangerous softness. “Use your words, baby.”

Armin turns redder than the Solo cup.

You live for this.

But before he can recover, Connie swoops in from nowhere and yells, “TRUTH OR DARE. IN MY ROOM. CIRCLE. NOW.”

Because apparently y'all twelve again.

The room's smelling faintly like weed, and cheap vodka, hot with so many people in the same place. You spot Mikasa laying on Coonie’s bed and Eren sitting on the desk chair, back to the rest of the room, but you can see him packing the ground up weed into a rolling paper. You sit next to Armin, obviously. His knee keeps brushing yours like he’s trying to pretend it’s an accident, even though it keeps happening every five seconds.

Across from you is Sasha (already tipsy), Connie (born tipsy), Jean (smirking, obviously), some random people you don't care enough to remember their name and— yep — Mina.

You don’t know if she’s glaring at you or having a stroke. Either way, you smile sweetly and lean a little more into Armin’s space.

“Alright, nerds,” Connie claps, vodka bottle in hand. “Never have I ever… slept with someone and forgot their name after.”

You hold up your cup and drink without blinking.

Armin chokes.

Everyone groans or giggles. Mina looks directly at your mouth like it offended her personally.

“Never have I ever… had a crush on someone in this room,” Sasha smirks.

Cue chaos.

Everyone makes eye contact with everyone. You sip. Jean chugs. Mikasa doesn’t flinch. Armin… lifts his cup. Sips.

You want to tease him — but the bottle spins.

Its Mina’s turn.

“Never have I ever made out with someone just to get a reaction out of someone else.” You sip again. So does Jean. but that's an old story, not even worth mentioning. You see the flicker in Armin’s jaw.

Connie, in a brilliant stroke of timing, takes things further off the rails.

“Never have I ever… had sex in a public place.”

You cackle.

Armin clears his throat.

And drinks.

What.

The room erupts.

“No. Absolutely not. Ain't no way Armin Arlert it's little freak, explain yourself,” Mikasa demands, nearly toppling over.

Armin just pushes his glasses up calmly. “Library study room. Sophomore year. After finals.”

You drop your jaw.

Mina visibly deflates .

“Was it with that girl with the septum and purple braids?” Connie asks.

“Nope,” Armin says.

“Who then?” Jean insists.

Armin shrugs. “You don’t know her.”

You… suddenly want to know everything about this alternate-universe Armin with secret kinks and perfect timing.

It spirals quickly after that.

Sasha drinks for “Never have I ever stolen a traffic cone.”

Connie drinks for “Never have I ever kissed a professor.”

Jean drinks for “Never have I ever hooked up with two people in the same friend group.”

Armin’s barely tipsy, his face is flushed in a beautiful way that compliments so well with his blonde hair it's actually making you kinda of feral. You’re dangerously close to asking if he’s faking this I've never felt the touch of a woman energy or if the universe just wanted to create a sex god with a resting shy face.

You're having fun, laughing at Mikasa and Connie bickering, watching as Eren joins the circle while passing a blunt over to Jean, feeling Armin's hand caressing your thigh, while you rest on his shoulders a little. Yet nothing can distract you from this feeling. Of being watched, getting your every move scrutinized. Everytime you meet her eyes, she raises her eyebrow. It's getting tiring.

Jealousy it's a ugly face, even on pretty girls like Mina Carolina.

Your patience snaps. your turn now.

While staring directly at her, you go for blood.

“Never have I ever lied about wanting to just study when what I really wanted was to jump someone’s bones.”

Connie screams, you hear Armin choking beside you.

You drink, watching her blush while also taking a sip.

The blonde man beside you hesitates for a second before also taking a big gulp. The world seems to stop when your eyes meet. Your lips parted as his ears got more red and his eyes glitter. Fucking glitter like when sunshine touches the ocean. Deep and blue and fucking breathtaking beautiful.

This motherfucker got you wanted to write poetry and draw hearts with your names.

It's time to admit you got it bad.

The moment ends with everyone groaning when Connie suddenly lurches forward.

“Oh— no, no, no—” Mikasa scrambles for a trash can, but it’s too late.

The carpet claims another victim. The game dies an honorable death.

Someone suggests a group selfie to immortalize the trauma. You all huddle together, flushed and sweaty.

Jean’s got devil horns on. Sasha’s holding a baguette she stole from the kitchen. Connie is barely conscious .

You feel Armin slide behind you — then his arm loops around your shoulders.

Soft. Warm. Familiar.

Your breath catches.

He’s smiling at the camera like it’s nothing. But his hand is resting right below your collarbone. His thumb brushing the skin under your necklace.

The photo flashes. Captures it all.

Later, when you check it on Sasha’s phone, you zoom in.

His smile is innocent.

Your smirk? Dangerous.

But it’s his hand that stays with you.

Because it’s not just possessive.

It’s not casual.

It’s a promise.

You don’t remember who suggested karaoke at 3:37 a.m., but they’re currently on their third dramatic rendition of “Toxic,” and Eren is screaming the harmony like his life depends on it.

The party has thinned. The carpet’s been cleaned (kinda). The last cup of decent alcohol is gone.

You’re sitting on the couch nursing a bottle of water like it’s vodka. Armin’s next to you, arms around you — not a lot, but enough to make your heart overreact.

He looks like he shouldn’t fit here.

Too clean. Too sane. Too good.

But he does.

And then he looks at you and smiles, like you’ve just said something funny even though your last sentence was “I think Eren’s possessed.”

You grin.

—

“I still think Sasha won that game,” you say as you stumble slightly, the cold air slapping you sober.

“How?” Armin scoffs, holding his sweater tighter around his chest. “She didn't even drink for ‘never have I ever lied about being a virgin,’ which—statistically? Impossible.”

You laugh, shoving his arm. “She’s a legend. Respect her lore.”

You’re both walking slowly. The street is empty, dead-quiet except for the buzz of street lamps and the sound of your boots scuffing.

“Thanks for walking me,” you say when you two slow down in front of your dorm’s building, hands tucked in your jacket pockets.

“I wasn’t gonna let you walk back alone. You’re, like… not safe.”

You smirk. “You’re calling me unsafe?”

He looks at you with a sideways grin. “Yeah. But in a gremlin energy kind of way.”

“Wow. Armin Arlert. Student of the year. Secret library slut. Thinks I’m a gremlin.”

He laughs softly.

And then he looks at you like he’s thinking way too hard.

“What?” you nudge.

“I like seeing you like this,” he says.

“Like what?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “You know. Loose. Silly. Kinda chaotic. Like… like a girl who doesn’t have a comeback every ten seconds or a death glare locked and loaded.”

You squint at him. “I am silly.”

“You’re terrifying ,” he deadpans. “In, like, a hot way. But terrifying.”

Your lips twitch.

“Okay, but real question,” you say, pausing by your dorm entrance. He stops one step down the stairs. “If I’m so scary in a hot way, how come you haven’t made a move yet?”

Armin blinks. “What?”

You step closer. The wind picks up behind you, lifting your hair over “You like me. I know it. Everyone knows it. Even Connie knows it, and Connie once failed a psych class he wasn’t even enrolled in.”

He licks his lips, looking absolutely flustered.

“So?” you press. “What gives? Why haven’t you just… caved in?”

He swallows. Hard.

“I didn’t want to be just another guy who wants you because everyone else does,” he says, voice low. “You get stared at. Talked about. People make up shit just to feel close to you. And I—” he moves forward “—wanted to be different.”

Your throat goes dry.

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t want to kiss you,” he adds quickly. “I thought about it. A lot. More than I should.”

Your gaze drops to his mouth.

Then climbs back up.

“I want to do this right,” he says, softer. “Real dates. Not fake study sessions. Not hallway flirting or party games. Just… you and me. Trying to see what this could actually be.”

It's this what being with a Real Man looks like? you finally made it?

You don’t say anything, just grab his jacket, tug him up, and kiss him.

It’s short. Hot. Clumsy.

You laugh into his mouth when his glasses bump your forehead. He huffs a breathy laugh, presses one hand to your waist like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to hold you tighter.

He is.

He will.

But tonight?

Tonight you pull away, lips tingling, breath shared.

“Okay, nerd,” you whisper. “You want a real date?”

He nods, dazed. “Yeah.”

You lean in again, lips grazing his jaw. “Then ask me out before I ask you to stay the night.”

Armin blinks.

“... Will you go out with me?”

You grin.

“Depends. Does the date come with more kissing?”

He leans in close, the real him surfacing through the shy boy mask.

“All of it.”

You almost cancel.

You’re not the canceling type — more like the don’t catch feelings and flee when you do type — but still. For a hot second, you stare at your reflection in the mirror and ask yourself if you’re really about to let Armin Arlert take you on a date.

Then you remember how he kissed you, how his hand curled around your waist like he meant it, how he whispered "all of it" with a look that made your knees consider retiring.

And you put on your damn jacket. Your phone pings with a text a second later.

>Armin: I'm here

He’s waiting outside your dorm, standing next to a bright blue car that absolutely does not belong to him.

“Connie’s,” he explains when you raise an eyebrow. “He owed me a favor. I helped him write a breakup email.”

You blink. “That’s… darkly romantic.”

“It had bullet points,” Armin says proudly.

He opens your door. Let you in first. Doesn’t try to play it cool — he’s nervous, you can feel it. The way he drums his fingers on the wheel, the way he sneaks glances at you at every red light.

You don’t speak much on the drive.

But you don’t need to.

Because when you get there — a retro arcade with neon lights, synth music playing inside, and a glowing sign that reads "Joystick Palace" — you laugh so hard you snort.

“An arcade?” you grin as you step out. “Really?”

“You said you like chaos,” he shrugs, locking the car. “And I like a fighting chance to beat you at something.”

“Oh, baby,” you purr. “You’re gonna regret that.”

Inside, it’s loud and flashy.

You pass rows of claw machines, air hockey tables, and ancient DDR setups.

Armin pays for a loaded token card like a gentleman. You immediately waste ten tokens trying to win a vibrating duck keychain.

Armin wins it in one try. You hate him.

Next you two reach the Skee-Ball Showdown table.

“You have terrible form,” he says with a little laugh.

You roll your eyes. “Says the man in a corduroy jacket.”

“It’s fashion.”

“It’s a lie.”

He smirks, steps behind you, and gently adjusts your arms, breathing right beside your ear. “You gotta flick. Like this.”

You try again, and miss miserably. Armin takes a ball, flicks it with clinical precision, and lands a perfect 100.

You stare at him, deadpan. “Are you secretly a Skee-Ball assassin?”

“I had no friends in middle school,” he says simply.

You wheeze.

You finally beat him in a Zombie Apocalypse game. It's basically just gun shooting a bunch of very fast zombies. You know you did actually beat him ‘cause he's doing the face he usually does on the study sessions when he's very concentrated in something. Jaw locked, eyebrows furrowed, a little pout on his pink lips. It's so fucking hot.

When your screen says YOU WIN in all caps and colors and you scream, while flashing him your middle fingers. “ You're a fucking loser Arlert”

He just laughs and try to stop you screaming with a hand on your mouth “People are side eyeing you so hard right now” You could care less about other people when you are having fun with him

You’re both laughing too hard to function when you pile into a tiny photobooth that smells like plastic and popcorn.

“Wait—my hair—!”

“Too late—!”

The flash goes off just as Armin accidentally elbows you in the boob and you scream-laugh into his shoulder.

When the strip prints, you’re both wheezing.

1st pic: You blinking. Him wide-eyed.

2nd pic: You throwing up a peace sign. Him doing jazz hands.

3rd pic: You squished together, cheeks touching, laughing with your whole chest.

4th pic: Him looking at you. You looking back.

And something quiet in the middle of all the chaos.

You don’t say anything, just tuck the photo strip into your jacket with a shy smile and pretend your heart isn’t imploding.

——

The arcade has a crusty pizza lounge in the back. Sticky booths. Cheap soda. Grease stains that deserve forensic analysis. And yet, it’s perfect.

You sit across from him, legs touching under the table.

“So,” you say between bites. “Any reason you picked this place?”

He shrugs. “You’re loud. Competitive. Terrifying.”

“I will throw pepperoni at you.”

He grins. “And I wanted to see what you looked like when you’re having fun without trying to impress anyone.”

You pause, chewing slowly. “That's... dangerous, Armin.”

He blinks. “What do you mean?”

“You say stuff like that and I forget I’m supposed to be the one in control.”

He flushes pink, but doesn’t look away.

“I don’t want control,” he says. “I just want to know the real you. The girl who wins at claw machines. The girl who laughs like she doesn’t care. The girl who stole my hoodie three days ago and never gave it back.”

You grin.

“And what if I’m in love with you?” You weren’t supposed to say it out loud. But the words fall out before you can stop them, soft and simple and devastatingly true:

“I think I’m in love with you, Armin.”

You don’t look away, don’t take it back.

Armin stares for a second, like you just gave him a cheat code to life. Then he reaches across the table, hand covering yours, thumb tracing your knuckles. “I’ve been in love with you since the day you told a TA to suck your ass in lecture.”

You cackle loudly, the kid at the next table looks mildly traumatized.

But it’s fine, because Armin is still blushing and smiling and not even trying to hide it.

And you?

You’ve never felt more real.

——

The arcade’s closing now. The glowing neon signs flicker out one by one, and the last dregs of teenagers shuffle toward their rides, greasy paper cups and leftover tokens in their wake.

You and Armin walk back to the car, the buzz of the evening still crackling in your chest.

The laughter's quieter now. Everything is, like the night itself is holding its breath.

Armin unlocks the car, holds the passenger side door open for you — and maybe it's the way he looks at you in that hoodie, or the fact that his fingers keep brushing your waist, or the fact that he saw all of you tonight and didn't even flinch.

But whatever the reason—

You don’t get in the car. You don’t even think, just grab him by the front of that stupid corduroy jacket and kiss him like your life depends on it.

And he melts.

“Wait—” he says, breath hitching, “what—?”

“I’m done waiting,” you mutter. Then, with exactly zero shame, you shove him back into the driver’s seat and climb into his lap.

Straddle him. Close the door. Like a prize.

Like a goddamn throne.

“W-wow —holy sh—” His hands hesitate — just for a second — before gripping your hips tight, thumbs digging into the curve of your ass like he’s been dying to. His glasses fog. His mouth opens against yours, wet and hot and messy, and your bodies crash together like magnets misbehaving.

“Still think I’m scary?” you whisper, teeth and lips grazing his jaw, kissing down his delicious throat, nails scraping his undercut.

“Yes,” he gasps.

“Still like me?”

“I’m obsessed with you.”

You rock your hips once — just once — and the breathy moan he lets out breaks you.

He’s flushed from collar to ears, fingers tightening like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, you can feel him getting hard and you head is spinning from how deep he's kissing you, like he’s catching up for every second he didn’t.

Tongue deep. Hands firm. Lips bruising.

“You drive me insane,” he mutters into your mouth.

You grin against his lips, breath ragged, hands in his hair, tugging until he groans. just as you’re about to grind again — as the windows fog and your body trembles with too much clothes and not enough skin — A loud, sharp knock on the window.

You freeze. Armin freezes.

A woman’s voice — annoyed and nasally — slices the moment in two:

“There are children in this parking lot.”

You turn your head. A mom. A literal mom, holding a juice box and glaring like you just kicked a puppy.

You blink. Smile and wave politely.

Armin chokes on his soul. “I—I am so sorry—!”

You slide off his lap, giggling uncontrollably while he smacks his forehead against the steering wheel and mutters something about “crawling into the sun and staying there.”

The drive back to your dorm is a blur of laughter and blushing and your hand resting on his thigh like nothing happened.

He walks you to the door like a goddamn gentleman.

Hair’s a mess, lips are swollen. His glasses are still a little crooked. His hands keep twitching like he wants to grab you again.

And you? You’re a little more in love. It’s terrifying, really and somehow, it feels like freedom.

You lean against the doorframe. “Thanks for the date, nerd.”

“Thanks for hijacking it and almost getting us banned from an arcade.”

“Tell me you didn’t love it.”

“I loved it.”

You smile. He steps forward, tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, and kisses your forehead. Slow and soft.

“Sleep well,” he murmurs, even in the poor light, his eyes shine.

“Not a chance,” you whisper. He grins, backing away.

You watch him walk off, hoodie riding up a little, hair practically bouncing, hands shoved in his pockets like he’s hiding a secret.

You wait until he’s gone.

Then you take out the photobooth strip.

And you post it to your story. No caption, just hearts and his @.

And for once, you don’t care who sees.

You can feel the hallway buzz before you even turn the corner. Phones clutched too tight. Whispered “oh my god that’s her”s. A heady mix of staring and pretending not to stare.

Which… okay. You did post that photo strip. You did let Armin hold your waist like a man who paid rent to be there. And yeah, your caption was literally just a heart, but that’s basically a marriage license in social media language.

So, you knew. But he didn’t.

You round the corner and spot him before he spots you. He’s standing by at locker, trying to act normal, wearing that dusty green hoodie you like and a pair of black jeans that absolutely weren’t tight until you noticed they were. His blonde hair, messy and softly curly at the end, are falling over his forehead. His ears are red.

He looks like someone who accidentally became an overnight meme. You sneak up behind him and poke his side.

He jumps. “—Oh my god, warn me!”

“Sorry,” you smirk. “You looked too approachable. I had to ruin it.”

He groans softly, leaning back against the metal locker. “I don’t know how you walk around like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like… everyone’s looking at you.”

“They always look.”

“Yeah, but now they’re looking at me too. I got high-fived by like three dudes I’ve never even met. One of them said that I'm a ‘lucky bastard’, another one asked what shampoo you use. I dropped my bag.”

You try not to laugh, but his expression is so pained, so violated, that it slips out anyway.

“I feel like I accidentally joined a frat,” he mumbles.

Then, quieter:

“And I don’t like the way they talk about you.”

Your know what he means and don't like it too, but after having to deal with it alone, you've learned to ignore it.

He doesn’t look at you — just rubs the back of his neck like he’s trying to massage away the emotions. “Like you’re a trophy they lost to me. Like you’re something they didn’t win.”

Your voice softens. “And that bothers you?”

He finally looks up. “It bothers me that they talk about you like that. And yeah, I guess I’m jealous. But mostly? I just feel like they don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“That you’re not a prize. You’re a person. Who happens to like me for some reason.”

You tilt your head. “I like you for so many reasons.”

“You’re gonna make me faint in the hallway.”

“Promise?” He laughs — real and shy and warm — and that’s all it takes. You link your arm through his and tug him toward the cafeteria.

The moment you step into the lunch area, the chaos hits.

Mikasa waves you over. Connie yells “Power couple alert!” like a town crier. Eren whistles loudly like a proud Dad who's watching his son score a goal playing soccer. Jean does finger guns. Sasha is halfway through a croissant and still manages to shout “FUCK SOFT LAUCHING, THAT'S QUEEN BEHAVIOR RIGHT HERE LADYS AND GENTLEMEN.”

You sit, Armin hesitates. Then squeezes in beside you like he’s bracing for impact. And for the first few minutes, it’s a tornado of teasing and food stealing and Sasha throwing paper napkins at Connie’s head. But eventually, everything softens.

Mikasa slides a tray in front of Armin without asking. “You didn’t eat yet. I know.”

He smiles. “Thanks, Miki.”

You raise an eyebrow. “That your other girlfriend?”

Mikasa deadpans. “Only if he passes the final this time.”

“I—I’m studying!”

You lean into him. “I’ll quiz you later.”

Jean snorts. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

You throw a grape at his face. But Armin’s laughing again, shoulders easing down inch by inch, as the table noise wraps around him like a safety blanket. For all their chaos, this group is home. And when his hand brushes yours under the table, you squeeze it. Soft. Sure. Grounded.

Because yeah, people are talking. People are always going to talk.

But at the end of the day?

It’s just you and him, and that’s more than enough.

——

You’re slipping your headphones in, fingers already fumbling for your lighter and gum at the bottom of your bag, when you hear someone say your name.

You look up.

It’s Mina. Alone this time, no textbooks hugging her chest like a shield, no fake smile plastered on. Just her — big cardigan, soft eyes, and that slightly awkward energy that used to make you roll your eyes. But today, it doesn’t hit the same.

You tug one earbud out. “Hey.”

There’s a pause. A big one. The kind that stretches out like taffy and begs to be cut clean.

“I just…” Mina begins, eyes flicking somewhere past your shoulder. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. If I ever made you feel weird. Or like I was… trying to compete. That wasn’t my intention.”

You shrug. “You didn’t owe me anything.”

“I kinda did,” she says. “You were never cruel. And I might’ve been quietly hoping you’d disappear for, like, a week or two.”

You snort. “Just a week?”

Mina smiles, a little. “Okay. Maybe a month.” You both laugh, short but real.

Then you say, “He likes you, y’know. As a friend. A lot.”

“I know,” she nods. “And you’re… something else entirely. Which I guess is what he needs now.”

You hum. “I didn’t plan any of it.”

“I know that too.”

Another pause. More gentle this time.

“You look happy, though,” she says. “He does too.”

You nod. “I am. And he is.”

“Good,” she says. “That’s good.”

You both glance toward the buildings across the quad, like you’re searching for the next thing to say — but there isn’t one.

Just a nod.

A quiet, simple goodbye.

You turn and walk your separate ways.

Not friends. Not enemies.

Just two girls who grew up a little.

———

Armin’s dorm smells like cotton detergent and anxiety.

You’re barely past the threshold when your eyes land on his desk: two mugs, one with a tea bag tag still hanging off, and a notebook open to the densest study notes you’ve ever seen. There’s highlighter color-coding like he’s about to present a thesis, not cram for a final.

And then there’s Armin — already flustered, running a hand through that fluffy blond hair, wearing a simple gray t-shirt and joggers like the unintentional thirst trap he is.

“So… you made it,” he says, nervous smile blooming.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” you toss back casually, setting your bag down and peeling off your hoodie to reveal your usual black tank top. His gaze drops instantly to the curve of your collarbone. Then lower.

You pretend not to notice.

He clears his throat. “Uh, tea or water?”

“Tea makes me feel like a Victorian child with tuberculosis. Got soda?”

“…Water it is.”

You snicker and flop onto his bed without permission, legs crossed, and fumble for your notes — not that you’re going to use them.

“I ran into Mina on the way here,” you mention offhandedly.

Armin pauses mid-pour. “Oh.”

You nod. “She was cool. Said some nice things, actually.”

His eyes meet yours cautiously. “You’re not… mad at her or anything, right?”

“No,” you say truthfully. “She’s sweet. Just had a crush and a little passive-aggressive attitude. It happens.”

He nods slowly, sets the water down on his desk. “You’re handling this really maturely.”

“Trying to impress someone,” you shrug, giving him a sly smile. That earns you a blush. Bright and adorable.

You both try to study for maybe twenty whole minutes. He sits at the desk; you sit cross-legged on the bed, actually reading the damn thing, until you catch him looking at your thigh tattoo for the fourth time.

It’s a Medusa, coiled and dark, peeking out from the hem of your shorts like it’s daring him to say something.

You stretch slowly, just to watch his eyes darken.

“Problem, professor?” you ask, voice low and teasing.

“I—no. I just… I didn’t realize it was that detailed.”

You smirk. “You could see it up close, y’know. If you asked nicely.”

He looks like he might short-circuit on the spot.

So you rise, slow and deliberate, walking over to his desk, taking the pencil out of his hand and placing it down. Then — as if it’s the most natural thing in the world — you straddle his lap, knees on either side, hands on his shoulders.

“I can’t focus,” you whisper.

He looks up at you, eyes wide. “Me either.”

And then you kiss him.

Hard and messy.

There’s nothing slow about it — not this time. This isn’t the photobooth or the moment outside your dorm. This is heat and need and weeks of pent-up tension burning through both of you.

His hands settle on your hips, pulling you closer, and you can feel him already half-hard under you. You grind down, and his head falls back with a low, helpless noise that shoots straight through you.

Your lips leave him only to trail down his jaw, to the base of his neck, biting gently just to hear him gasp. He says your name like it’s a prayer. A warning. A plea. then he touches the strap of your tank top.

“Can I—?”

You nod, biting your lip. “Take it off.”

He does, slow like he’s unwrapping something sacred. His hands tremble a little, but his eyes never leave yours. Then they drop — to your pierced chest — and he exhales like he’s been sucker-punched.

“Holy shit.”

You grin. “You like it?”

He answers by taking one nipple into his mouth, gently at first, then with more confidence as your fingers tangle in his hair. His tongue flicks over the piercing leaving a gentle bite, and you whimper.

Teasing until you can’t take it anymore — his shirt needs to go. You tug it off him and toss it somewhere behind, letting your nails drag down his pale chest. You just knew he would be the sleep builder type, abs muscles marked by soft lines, his peck with cute pink nipples, skin shivering.

“You’re so hot,” he mumbles against your skin, and your heart stutters.

You grind again, harder, and this time his hands grip your ass, guiding you. The friction is blinding. You’re soaked through your panties, and judging by how hard he is now, he’s not far behind.

“Fuck,” you whisper, breathless. “I want to taste you.” He stares, stunned, as you slide down to your knees in front of the desk chair, eyes locked on his.

“You don’t have to—”

You shut him up by dragging your tongue along his length through the fabric of his joggers, and he just chokes.

By the time you free him from his boxers, he’s flushed, panting, already leaking at the tip. You lick a slow circle around it before sinking down, taking him inch by inch, never breaking eye contact.

“God—” His hands are in your hair, not pushing, just holding. His hips twitch as you hollow your cheeks, letting your tongue swirl. He looks like he’s trying not to scream, red from chest to cheeks, eyes a little dazed, shaking a little by the time you pull off, still hard and dripping, and you crawl back up, tugging your shorts and panties off.

“You good?” he asks, breathless.

You grin, guiding his hand between your legs, letting him feel how wet you are, and then bring to your mouth and suck his fingers clean.

His jaw drops. “You’re going to kill me.”

“No, baby,” you whisper. “I’m going to ride you.”

You sink down onto him slowly, both of you moaning, your thighs trembling from the stretch and the sheer fucking emotion of it all. He fills you perfectly. Like you were made for him.

You move slowly at first, circling your hips, watching him fall apart beneath you.

“—fuck, you feel— -uhgg” Your nails dig into his shoulders as you pick up the pace. His hands are on your waist, your thighs, your ass — anywhere he can touch, he eyes your tits as they bounce slightly like he's hypnotized, groaning like he can't handle it and goes back to sucking on it again.

You ride him until you're shaking, grinding your hips and biting your lips. The knot inside you snaps, pleasure crashing over you in waves.

But Armin’s not done.

He carries you to bed, laying you like you're made of glass, take off his glasses, and kisses you like he’s starved. You're a moaning mess, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgams. He kisses down your throat, the vale between your tits, your stomach and when his head is between your legs he looks up at you, big blue eyes you know and love, but with a little wild in it, “Pussy so fucking pretty, bet she can cream for me again.” He gives you a long lick, then a cute little kiss.

“Minnn” you whimper, hands holding the sheets tightly.

“Taste so good, smells amazing, looks so fucking pretty,” his words make you dizzy, its hard to process that sweet Armin who still blushes when you hold his hand, is the same man that its climbing up to rest his forehead against yours and saying with a smirk: “You're a perfect little thing, ain't you? And that's all for me? Huh?”

You nod whimpering his name as he slides back in, thrusting slow and deep, holding your face, eyes locked, sucking your lips lazily. Until you bite his lips back, gripping him inside you. That's when something in his eyes darkens.

Suddenly, he's so close you wouldn't know where one of you starts and the other ends. Bodys sweating, chest to chest, one arm around your lower back as the other hold you head, finger griping your hair, legs locking on his waist as he fucks you fast and hard, sometimes mumbling incoherently, sometimes dirty shit you could never imagine spitting out of his mouth.

He tells you how long he’s wanted this.

How many times he’s thought about bending you over a desk, study sessions be dammed.

How good you look taking all of him.

He's fucking whimpering in your ear.

Vision whitening, your eyes roll to the back of your head, toes curling, nails gripping his back, mouth open on a silent scream. Even the noise the bed frame is making while hitting the wall gets turned down. All you could hear it's him . Feel him, just making you take it. No space to run.

“You’re mine,” he whimpered, eyes glazed tugging on your earlobes with teeth, it's all too much “Fuck baby, I'm gonna cum”

His hand, the one on your lower back, snakes between your legs and he begins to circle your clit, making your body lock, pussy gripping so hard he makes a cute painful face, slamming one last time and letting out a pretty broken moan, your body shaking as he fill you up. Nice and warm.

The moment seems to linger, his arms around you, two hearts beating fast, breaths hard, your sanity coming back.

You just had the best fuck of your life with the Armin Arlert, the campus adorable nerd, and open your eyes to see his dorm room, crumpled with books, cute figures and wall with Star Wars posters.

“If I knew your dick game was this good, I would've fucked you sooner” Armin giggles. Fucking giggles into your ear like he didn't just railed you so good it ruined you to everybody else.

“And the dirty talk? ” you say and he whines embarrassed.

Armin’s face emerges from your neck, flushy with wet hair clinging onto his forehead.

“You okay?” he whispers.

“Mhm,” You shift, and he gently slips out of you, grabbing a towel from the desk drawer — probably prepped days ago with overly optimistic hope. It’s soft, and he cleans you carefully, like you’re something precious.

He tosses it into the laundry after, climbs back into bed after putting on a boxer with a shy smile, gives you a clean t-shirt then when you're done, pulls you into his arms without hesitation.

You melt into him.

“Stay,” he says softly, voice muffled in your messy hair. “Don’t leave yet.”

You nestle closer. “I wasn’t planning on it.” And just like that, you sleep.

——

You wake up tangled in warmth.

There’s light creeping through the blinds, golden and soft. Armin’s arms are still around you, one hand tucked under your (his) shirt — possessive and sweet. He’s snoring, faintly. His hair is a mess.

You stare at the ceiling for a moment, heart full.

And then, like a wave crashing over you:

Holy shit, you love him.

You love the dumb way he looks at you, all big eyes and sweet smiles. You love his nervous hands. His annotated study guides. The way he tastes when he kisses you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

You love Armin .

He stirs as you shift slightly, blinking himself awake.

“…Hi,” he says, voice still gravelly.

“Hi.”

“You okay?” he whispers into your hair, fingers brushing over your thigh tattoo again — featherlight and curious, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.

“Mhm,” you murmur. “More than.”

He shifts just enough to look at you, his blue eyes sleepy and searching. “Not sore?”

You snort. “Armin, you fucked me like you’ve got something to prove.”

“I do,” he says, so seriously that you laugh.

“You win, baby. Gold star. Five out of five. Would let you destroy me again.”

His cheeks go crimson. “That’s not— I mean, I didn’t want to go too hard—”

“Shhh,” you tease, pressing a kiss to his throat. “You were perfect. Actually…”

You roll to your back and stretch, wincing dramatically. “I think you might’ve ruined me for literally anyone else.”

That makes his entire body go still.

Then—

“Good,” he mumbles, pulling the blanket over both of you. “'cus you’re mine.” He doesn't say it like a joke or a challenge. Just quiet certainty, like he’s stating a fact.

You blink up at him, heart skipping. “Yours?”

Armin’s eyes flick down to yours. He nods. “Unless… that was just a one-time thing for you?”

You frown instantly. “What? No. Of course not. I—Armin, you know it’s not like that.”

He nods again. “Okay. I just— I’m not used to this. Having someone. Like this. You’re…” He exhales. “You mean a lot to me.”

Your chest tightens. You lean in and kiss him slow, one hand cupping his face.

When you pull away, you say, “You’re my person, Armin.”

He smiles, not that flustered little curve you used to get — this one is full. Confident. A little smug. “So I guess that makes me your boyfriend?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Guess?”

“Okay,” he amends. “That makes me your boyfriend.”

You tilt your head. “Say it again.”

He leans in, kisses your nose. “Boyfriend.”

You grin. “Girlfriend.”

“Mine.”

“You are. Mine.”

You let the moment linger — sweet and weightless — then raise a brow. “So... what are the girlfriend benefits, exactly? Am I getting snacks? Back rubs? Photo booth printouts in your wallet?”

“You already got extra credit,” he smirks, dragging a hand down your bare back. “What more do you want?”

You fake gasp, hitting his arm.

Armin chuckles, burying his face into your neck. “You’re such a brat.”

“And you love it.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, gaze tender. “I really do.” he says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like he’s known it longer than he’s known anything.

You kiss him, slow and sure.

No rush this time, just your heart in his hands, and his smile against your lips.

[thealternateuniverse]

Party 4 U

Oscar Piastri x reader

Word Count: 15,707

Note: Sorry if it's bad. I wrote this in a spur of moment kind of feels.

----

"I need a freaking break," you muttered, sighing as you dropped your books on the table.

"Finally!" Flavy exclaimed, throwing her hands up like she’d been waiting for this moment forever.

"]s came one after another, the noise overwhelming your already-tired brain.ag you there," Carmen warned.

"I already said yes!" you said, hands up. "Chill."

The girls all exhaled in relief.

--

"Oh wow... I wasn't expecting this," Carmen murmured, scanning the area in awe.

You were glad you and the girls had stuck to casual outfits, they matched the vibe perfectly. The moment you stepped into the Sigma Sector One frat house yard, you were welcomed by cozy lighting, mellow music, and a warm, inviting atmosphere. It was nothing like the usual chaotic frat parties.

Fairy lights were strung across the yard, swaying gently in the breeze. Bean bags, picnic rugs, and soft seating were scattered across the grass. Groups of students lounged around, laughing, sipping drinks, playing quiet games. It felt more like a chill rooftop night than a frat-hosted event.

"I actually love them for this," Alex said, visibly impressed.

What stunned you all even more was what lay inside the house. The entire first floor had been transformed into zones:

A DIY Mocktail Bar with custom mixes and refreshing spritzes.

A Sensory Corner stocked with fidget toys, weighted blankets, essential oils, and soft ambient lighting.

A Noise-Free Zone, where guests wore headphones, lounged with plushies, and chilled to lo-fi beats.

Tables with Chill Games Only—UNO, Jenga, a custom deck called Cards Against Burnout, and trivia rounds.

Even a mini arcade section with basketball hoops and a billiards table.

"If I didn’t know better, I’d say a sorority threw this party," Carmen muttered, eyes wide.

"Ladies… hello," came a familiar voice.

You turned to see Esteban Ocon approaching. A Sigma Sector One member and apparently, Flavy’s not-so-secret weakness.

You felt her shift beside you, subtly tucking her hair behind her ear as she greeted him.

"Estie..." you all chimed, exchanging pleasantries.

"Hope you enjoy the night. Have fun," Esteban said, his gaze lingering just a moment too long on Flavy before walking off.

"Y/N, look!" Kika pointed toward the snack table. "Blueberry cheesecake. Oh and revel bars! Wait—is that your favorite mocktail?"

You followed her finger—and froze. Shirley Temples. Your all-time go-to. And not just that every item at the snack bar was suspiciously... your favorite.

Your jaw dropped slightly. "That’s… weird."

"Hmmm," Carmen said, drawing out the sound as the others exchanged looks. "I think we’re starting to piece together the cheesecake mystery."

You tried to dismiss it. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence.”

"Y/N." Lily’s tone made you look at her. Her eyes sparkled with realization. "I think I just figured out the party’s theme."

"What do you mean?"

"It’s very you." Her voice pitched higher in excitement. "Oh my god... it feels like this party was thrown for you."

Gasps. Actual gasps from the girls.

"This is so girly pop." Carmen clutched her chest dramatically. "Whoever did this, I would marry him if it was for you. You were a walking burnout last week."

You stared at the twinkling lights. No way. Right?

It couldn’t be. The girls must be overanalyzing again, romanticizing things as usual. Still... it was a lot of coincidences.

"Okay, enough," you said, trying to wave it off. "Let’s just enjoy the night."

But they didn’t hear you or more likely, they chose not to.

"But the question is... who?"

All eyes turned to you. Like you had a clue.

"Didn’t you say Lando gave you the invite personally?" Rebecca asked, raising a brow.

You nodded, still processing. "Yeah... but he just handed it to me like any normal invite."

"So he could have planned all of this," Carmen whispered.

"No way," you said, laughing nervously. "He was acting weird, yeah, but Lando’s... Lando. He’s not throwing soft-lit parties with sensory corners."

The girls all exchanged knowing shrugs.

"Well, let’s see how the night unfolds."

You finally let yourself relax. Whoever planned this party whether it was for you or not they really understood what people needed right now.

And maybe… just maybe, someone had been paying closer attention than you thought.

--

"Jesus, mate. This is so not our brand," Lando muttered, coming to stand beside Oscar, both of them looking over the lively crowd below.

The once chaotic rave parties by Sigma Sector One yard had been transformed soft fairy lights, laughter echoing across bean bags and game corners. It felt like someone had bottled up serenity and poured it into a frat party.

"But you pulled it off. And you even got Max to come out of hiding," Lando added, giving Oscar a side glance.

Oscar didn’t respond. His eyes were scanning the crowd, searching. Frowning slightly when he couldn’t spot you.

"Is this too much?" he asked, still not looking away.

"She’s not freaking out yet, so I guess not. Or..." Lando shrugged. "She hasn’t noticed. Yet."

Oscar mentally scoffed. The blueberry cheesecake should’ve tipped you off but maybe Lando was right. Maybe you just thought it was a coincidence.

"Why don’t you just approach her like a normal person?" Lando nudged him with his elbow.

Oscar exhaled, quiet and slow. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. He did. But it wasn’t the right time. Not yet.

He barely knew you. One library encounter, that’s all. And even then—you hadn’t really seen him.

You were on autopilot when you bumped into him, muttered an apology, then tried to grab a book on the top shelf. He reached up, handed it to you. You said thanks, eyes barely meeting his, then trudged back to your table and promptly fell asleep on top of your notes.

Still... that moment stuck. And everything after that became a silent pattern. You eating in the cafeteria. You ordering blueberry cheesecake at the café. Shirley Temples. Head buried in books, but always with a calm sort of presence.

He learned you were part of Lambda Rose. Friends with the popular girls. Pretty. Smart. Driven. Social.

Everything he wasn’t.

Oscar stood there, hands in his pockets, unsure what bothered him more: the fact that you didn’t know he existed or that he didn’t know how to fix that.

"Mate," Lando said again. "You’re Oscar Piastri. And you think Y/N won’t notice you?"

Oscar sighed. "She seems to have her life together. I’d rather not mess with that."

Lando looked at him like he’d grown a second head. "You think she’s out of your league? Are you hearing yourself right now?"

Oscar didn’t answer.

"Mate, she’s a uni student, not a celestial being." Lando groaned. "You just need to talk to her. Let her know you exist. Level up your game."

Easy for Lando to say. He was charming. Loud. Effortless. Oscar? He was... well, Oscar. Reserved. Straightforward. Calm to the point of being misread. People either thought he was a genius or a complete asshole. There was no in-between.

"Honestly, if I were Y/N, I’d freak out. Girl is busy. I almost got on my knees when she said she was coming tonight," Lando muttered.

Oscar didn’t answer, only scanned the crowd again. He finally spotted you sitting on the floor, legs crossed, mid-laugh as you carefully pulled a Jenga piece. A Shirley Temple beside you.

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

"So this is going to be a weekly thing now?" Alex Albon’s voice joined them. George Russell followed right after, both balancing drinks and curiosity.

"I gotta say, Oscar," George grinned, "didn’t peg you for the simp of the year. I'm sorry, I wasn't aware of your game."

Oscar gave him a flat look.

"We would've helped earlier if we knew your game plan involved full-blown themed events," Alex added, clearly entertained.

"Come on, Osc," George said, patting his shoulder. "Just introduce yourself. Let her know you exist."

Oscar remained quiet, eyes still on you.

What if he said the wrong thing? What if he got tongue-tied and ruined the one small chance he had?

"Swear to God," Lando warned, "if you don’t talk to her, I’ll have Charles set up a fundraising collab with Lambda Rose and force you to co-host with her."

Oscar paled as if it was a death sentence

He glanced back at you now sipping your drink, eyes crinkling from laughter. You looked at peace. Happy.

And maybe... maybe he didn’t need to be perfect. Just present.

Oscar cleared his throat.

Then quietly without fanfare, without looking back—he started walking toward you.

--

You frowned, trying to reach the back of your hair where an unfortunate glob of slime had gotten stuck. You weren’t even sure how it got there just that it was now a problem.

"Here, let me help."

You nearly sighed in relief at the sound of a calm voice behind you. A literal godsend.

"Oh my god, thank you. Finally." You dropped your arms, letting the stranger work on your hair.

You felt his fingers gently pinch the ends, delicately pulling at the sticky bits. His touch was so light you almost didn’t feel it.

"There. I got most of it out, but you’ll need to wash out the rest."

You turned to thank him and then froze.

"Thank you, really—wait... oh! I know you!"

The guy looked slightly startled. "Me?" he pointed to himself, eyes wide.

"Yes! You’re the one who helped me grab that cursed mechanical book from the library!" You beamed at the memory. He looked even more confused, which was fair you'd been a total zombie that day.

"I was completely out of it, but I remember now. You actually got the exact book I needed for my essay. I passed out after, but I finished it!"

He didn’t say anything at first, just kind of stared at you, like you were some rare bird that had just started talking. Maybe he thought you were weird for suddenly yapping.

You realized you were rambling. "Sorry....wow, I’m yapping again. I’m Y/N, by the way." You extended a hand.

There was a moment of hesitation before he took it.

"Oscar," he said.

The moment your hands touched, you swore you felt a jolt, almost like static. You flinched a little, blinking it off.

"Nice to meet you, Oscar. I was just playing that catching stick game but couldn’t beat 'Papaya Aussie.' Whoever that is, he’s got insane reflexes."

You continued talking, your energy spilling out naturally, not even noticing how Oscar hadn’t said much. But he didn’t look annoyed just... quietly watching. Listening.

"Yeah, I bet he is," he said eventually, lips twitching in what might’ve been the start of a smile.

"Right? So I gave up and ended up here in the sensory corner. Discovered slime. Regret the slime."

You plopped down onto one of the bean bags, absentmindedly picking up a stress ball. Oscar stood nearby, silent again but not awkwardly so. Just... calm.

"Sorry," you said again, glancing up at him. "You probably have somewhere to be. Didn’t mean to trap you with my running commentary."

"No, I don’t mind," he said softly, eyes scanning the yard. "Everyone seems to be having fun."

You followed his gaze, catching a glimpse of a few frat boys giving Oscar an exaggerated thumbs-up. He immediately looked away, ears flushing pink.

Cute.

"Are you having fun?" you asked, still trying to figure him out.

"I’m okay. What about you?"

"I am. Honestly surprised. This whole event is... really thoughtful. After last week? Totally needed. Whoever planned this is a genius. And that blueberry cheesecake? Divine."

Oscar felt his heart trip over itself. You remembered the library. You liked the cheesecake. You liked this. His entire body was tense under the weight of that relief. It worked. You were here, talking to him. Not out of politeness actually talking.

Lando was right. It was better to get to know you instead of just watching from afar. You weren’t intimidating at all once you started rambling. You were... refreshing.

"I haven’t seen you around much at the uni. What course are you taking?"

"Computer Engineering," he answered.

Your eyes lit up. "No way I'm in Mechanical Engineering! Are you part of Sigma Sector too?"

Oscar hesitated. "Uh... yeah. Kind of. I usually work behind the scenes."

Your mouth made a little "O." "Cool. Well, thank you for this party, Oscar. It's really fun and I mean that. I appreciate it."

"I’m glad you liked it," he said, voice softer than before.

"Hope you throw more of these."

"It might be a weekly or biweekly thing, depending on how you... I mean, if Charles approves."

Oscar mentally cursed. He almost said you.

You laughed. "Okay. Nice to meet you. And I guess... see you around? Especially if you guys keep hosting stuff like this."

He smiled, just a little.

"Thought you’d say that," he muttered under his breath.

"What?" you blinked, leaning in.

"Oh nothing," he recovered quickly. "See you around, Y/N. It was... nice meeting you too."

And with that, he gave you a small nod and walked off heart thudding in his chest but relief softening every step.

You watched him go, brows slightly raised.

Interesting.

---

"I swear to God, Oscar. I did not sign up for this."

Charles hissed from across the room, voice thick with his French accent. He looked absolutely done with the world his lashes curled, cheeks dusted pink, lips painted in a shade so bold even Nicki Minaj would pause. A Minnie Mouse headband completed the look.

Max was already in tears from laughter. His phone was out, camera shaking from how hard he was cackling.

They’d volunteered to help at Lambda Rose’s outreach event, a hospice visit for children battling cancer. You had personally invited Oscar, and in turn, Oscar convinced the boys to come. He might have bribed them. Just a little. And now? The children had turned the guys into their personal canvases.

Charles was a glitter masterpiece.

So were George, Alex, and Lando.

Only Oscar and Max had escaped the chaos, though Max’s current joy probably guaranteed he’d be next.

Oscar was pulled from the moment when a little hand tugged at the hem of his shirt. He looked down and smiled, then knelt.

"Hey, buddy."

The boy didn’t say anything—just pointed across the room where you stood, surrounded by kids, animatedly helping them decorate cookies.

"Pretty," the boy muttered.

Oscar’s gaze followed, lingering longer than he meant to. You must have felt it because you turned and waved. Oscar instinctively waved back, but the kid beat him to it.

"See?" Oscar whispered to the boy, who nodded in agreement.

He took the boy’s hand and gently led him toward you. Watching you, Oscar felt something warm in his chest—something quietly thrilling and terrifying at once.

Around him, the situation favored his friends as well. Esteban had basically assigned himself to Flavy’s side. Alex was obviously smitten with Lily. And Charles still covered in pink glitter and shame was now ducking behind decorations when Alexandra walked by.

Oscar, meanwhile, couldn’t stop smiling. He’d dragged them all here under the pretense of “fraternity service,” but really? He’d just wanted to be part of your world.

"Oscar," Max’s voice cut in. "If I didn’t know you, I’d think you were insane."

Oscar didn’t look away from you.

"Mate literally invited her favorite band for a ‘concert for a cause’."

"You’re seriously freaking me out," Charles added, his face still shimmering with accidental highlighter. "How’d you even know she liked Chase Atlantic? And how the hell did you pull that off?"

Oscar usually unreadable grinned.

A real grin.

"She told me," he said simply. "And I called someone I know back in Australia. Pitched the whole thing as a fundraiser. The concert’s under the fraternity’s name, of course..." He shrugged. "But I just wanted her to like it."

The boys stared. Lando choked on his pudding.

"Holy shit, that’s more than ten words. You’re whipped," George said.

They all nodded.

"Did you ask her to go with you already?"

Oscar shook his head. He was planning to. Today.

"You better not screw this up," Charles said, glitter still sparkling beneath his scowl. "I sacrificed my face for your love story."

Honestly? The guys couldn’t even be mad. Oscar’s moves had benefitted everyone from the R&R nights to the volunteering to the concert-for-a-cause. Every little detail screamed you. Oscar noticed. And he acted.

---

Oscar was tapping his foot anxiously beside his parked car, eyes flicking toward the sorority house every few seconds. His palms were sweaty—literally. He rubbed them against his jeans in frustration. God forbid a man down this bad.

Then the door opened, and there you were.

He straightened immediately.

Jesus.

You were practically glowing. Oscar swore you carried your own ring light with you everywhere, because the way the porch lights hit your skin and made your smile brighter? Unfair. Unfair and deadly.

You bounced down the steps with excitement in your step, and as soon as your eyes met his, he froze in place.

"Hi..." he said, voice a little breathless.

"Hi!" you beamed, practically floating toward him.

And then you both paused.

You looked at each other and realized.

You were unintentionally matching.

Same earthy tones. Subtle accents of black. Casual, clean, and sharp. The universe or Lando clearly had a hand in this.

You tilted your head. "Wait... are we matching?"

Oscar looked down at his outfit like he was only just realizing it too. "I—Lando might’ve... helped a bit." Thank God his friend has some fashion sense or else he's doomed.

You laughed, a genuine soft laugh, and his stomach did a flip.

"Nice car," you added, gesturing toward his sleek McLaren 720S.

Oscar blushed instantly. Like clockwork, his hand reached up to scratch the back of his neck.

You noticed.

Again? You were starting to think it was a reflex his tell. You found it ridiculously adorable. His ears even turned pink when he got flustered. Endearing, you thought.

"Come on," you said, brushing past him with a smile. "Let’s get there early and grab a good spot."

Oscar blinked out of his daze and rushed to open the passenger door for you. When he did, you paused blush creeping from your neck to your cheeks.

No one had done that for you in a while.

"Thanks..." you murmured, slipping into the seat.

The fifteen-minute ride to campus was quiet—but not awkward. The kind of silence that felt... calming. There was music playing low in the background.

You tapped your fingers lightly to the beat. Oscar glanced at you from the corner of his eye. You looked peaceful, content.

Don’t mess this up, he told himself.

When you pulled into the university’s open-air grounds, heads turned immediately.

People were already crowding the concert area, but all eyes followed as Oscar parked and you stepped out of his car.

Whispers.

Is that Y/N?

Wait... is that Oscar Piastri?

When did he become hot?!

Oscar noticed the murmurs but didn’t care. He only looked at you.

You, on the other hand, didn’t hear any of it. Your mind was elsewhere. Your eyes were wide with anticipation.

"Oh my god..." you muttered, scanning the area. "This is actually happening. They’re really here."

Chase Atlantic’s crew was already doing their final checks onstage, and the crowd was buzzing.

You turned to Oscar. "How much money and convincing did you actually need to pull this off?"

Oscar shrugged, trying to act cool but the small, smug grin gave him away.

"Let’s just say... being Australian has perks."

You narrowed your eyes playfully.

"You’re scary, Piastri."

"You’ll see just how scary when they start your favorite song."

Your mouth dropped.

"Wait—what do you—?"

He just gave you a small smile and offered his hand as you made your way through the crowd.

You took it without hesitation.

And just like that, you attended the once in a lifetime exclusive concert of your favorite band. You're actually worried Oscar might get bored, but he was chill beside you. He wasn’t dancing. Oscar was never the type. But he stood still in the storm, quietly absorbing every second, stealing glances at you like he was trying to memorize this moment.

The night breeze kissed your cheeks, the crowd buzzed around you, and laughter echoed as students lost themselves in the music. The stage was lit in gold and violet, shadows shifting across the lawn. Chase Atlantic had the crowd wrapped around their fingers but it was what you felt beside you that made your heart start to flutter.

Oscar was quiet, as always.

But something about him tonight felt... restless.

You couldn’t explain it. The way he stood with his hands tucked into his pockets, the soft furrow of his brows, the way his eyes tracked the band and occasionally, subtly flicked toward you.

He hadn’t said much since you arrived. But every time your arm brushed his, it was like your skin was remembering something before your mind could.

You told yourself you were imagining it.

Until Moonlight started playing.

The first beat hit like a slow, sensual tide and something shifted in the air. The crowd softened. The lights turned cool, silver and blue, casting an ethereal glow across the audience.

Your favorite song.

Your lips parted in surprise, and you turned instinctively, immediately to Oscar.

And when you saw him looking at you?

Your breath caught.

His expression was unreadable at first. Calm. Collected.

But his eyes God, his eyes they said something else entirely.

There was yearning there. The kind that sneaks up your spine and coils around your chest. The kind of look that says I want more, but not now. Not yet.

Not when the moment is already this perfect.

You smiled softly at him. He didn’t return it not fully. But his gaze softened. Something inside him pulled taught like a wire being plucked.

And then the lyrics hit.

“Now I’m under the moonlight…”

The crowd began to sway again, but neither of you moved.

You could feel his arm brushing yours subtle, warm, grounding. He didn’t pull away. Neither did you. The touch wasn’t loud, wasn’t obvious. It just existed in that narrow space between holding back and giving in.

You turned forward again, but you were no longer focused on the stage.

You could feel him.

Watching you.

Wanting.

Oscar was screaming inside. Not literally—but the kind of ache that only builds when you’re standing next to the one person who doesn’t realize how much of your world they’ve unknowingly taken over.

You looked too good under these lights.

And the way you bit your bottom lip during the chorus?

Unfair.

He could reach for your hand now. He wanted to. His fingers twitched like they might. But he didn’t.

Because this moment this song, this stillness was too damn good to rush through.

He let his shoulder press just a bit more into yours, and when you didn’t flinch, his chest tightened.

You turned to him again.

This time, your smile faltered just slightly. As if you’d realized something you weren’t ready to say yet.

Because you felt it too.

That this wasn’t just a cute night out or a shared favorite band.

This was something growing.

Something real.

But saying it now? Putting it into words would crack the spell.

So neither of you spoke.

You let the music do the talking, standing shoulder to shoulder, your fingers brushing once twice just enough to remind each other: I’m here.

And when the final note of Moonlight echoed into the crowd, neither of you clapped right away.

Because both of your hearts were too full.

Too loud.

And maybe just maybe that was enough for now.

--

"What the hell happened to you?" Kika’s voice cut through your daze. She was eyeing you from across the couch, concern etched into her features. You’d been zoning out for a solid ten minutes, eyes unfocused, mouth slightly parted, your textbook forgotten in your lap.

"Kiks..." you started, then paused, unsure how to even begin.

"Did something happen at the concert?"

You groaned, dragging your palms down your face. Of course she figured it out.

"Oh my god."

"It’s not what you think—oh god," you said quickly, face now buried in your hands.

Kika gasped dramatically. "Wait... do you like Oscar?"

You kicked your legs into the air in mild panic as her words hit. She just said it. Out loud. And now it was real.

"You silly girl," she giggled, pinching your cheek. "It’s okay. He’s not bad. Kind of mysterious, actually."

That was the problem. He wasn’t bad. He was just… a problem now. Because everything had been so normal before.

You kept rewinding moments in your head like they held answers. The coffee runs. The blueberry cheesecakes. The way he listened to you talk like your voice was his favorite soundtrack. And now, ever since the concert, you didn’t know how to act around him.

"You’re blushing," Kika teased.

"Did I just hear someone’s in denial?" Carmen sauntered in, smug grin on her lips.

"Australian, calm, studies computer engineering, walks like he’s thinking about quantum mechanics..." she listed with a smirk.

"Member of Sigma Sector One," Kika added, nudging you.

You groaned and dramatically flopped onto the cushions. "Stopppp. Oh my god."

"Darling… since when?" Carmen asked, crossing her arms with curiosity.

Since when? Even you didn’t know. You sighed, eyes distant. "I don’t know. But... he looked different during the concert."

You could still feel the echo of his gaze every time the song hit a certain note. The tension in the air. The briefest touches that sparked something under your skin. It was like your body had realized something your heart hadn’t caught up with yet.

"Just go with the flow, love. See where it takes you," Carmen said gently.

But your brain wasn’t as easygoing as that. Everything had been normal. You yapped, he listened. He sent cheesecake. You said thanks. You invited him to your charity event—and he showed up with the guys and a full-blown concert for a cause. That definitely wasn't normal anymore.

"I don’t know. Maybe I should take a step back? Maybe I’m just getting too dependent on him lately."

Kika tilted her head. "I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Oscar’s the awkward one in the group."

You blinked. You hadn’t thought of him that way. To you, he was calm. Quiet. Collected. Mysterious, sure but not awkward.

"Some people think he’s rude or intimidating because he’s so straightforward. No fluff, no nonsense. Always looks like he’s ten steps ahead of everyone," Carmen added.

Kika leaned in with a mischievous grin. "But it’s adorable when he gets all fidgety around you. Like, I swear his whole vibe shifts when you're nearby."

"Okay, stop." You raised both hands in surrender. "You’re feeding my delusions."

"Observation, not delusion."

And you couldn’t even argue with them. Because maybe… just maybe... You were already too far gone.

---

Oscar’s brows furrowed. You were avoiding him. You had to be.

He hadn’t seen you all week not during your usual lunch breaks, not in your department’s hallway, not even in the library where you'd sometimes cross paths in quiet familiarity. And worse? You weren’t replying to his texts.

"You’ve checked your phone so many times, I’m getting a migraine, seeing you miserable" Lando said without even looking away from his sim rig. His tone was casual, but Oscar could hear the concern.

Oscar sat on his bed, phone in hand, refreshing your thread of messages again and again like a prayer.

"I haven’t seen her. She’s not replying to me."

Lando sighed. "Maybe she’s just busy, mate. Probably on DND."

Oscar clenched his jaw. "All week? After the concert?" He retraced every moment, searching for something he might’ve said or done wrong. But nothing came to mind. Nothing bad, at least.

Then like the man of action he was when logic failed, Oscar sat up. "Screw it. Let’s go back to basics. Throw a party tonight. Call Zak. Invite Lambda Rose."

Lando froze mid-lap. "You’re insane." But he was already reaching for his phone. "And honestly? Weirdly consistent."

While Lando made the call, Oscar stared blankly at the ceiling, trying not to think of how far gone he was. Millions for a surprise Chase Atlantic concert? His mother nearly had a heart attack when she saw the transactions. His sister? Called him out immediately. "Who is she and why are you this whipped?" He never gave them a name.

Lando hung up, then turned to him. "You know, I’m torn between admiration and deep concern. But for what it’s worth..." He clapped Oscar’s shoulder gently. "She brings out the side of you we don’t get to see often. Or ever."

Oscar didn’t say anything. Just nodded, quietly absorbing that truth.

Later that night, the party was in full swing. The music pulsed, the lights were warm and golden, and students swayed under string lights and laughter.

Oscar stood at the edge of the second floor balcony, gaze fixed below, searching.

You weren’t there. Your friends had arrived, but you hadn’t.

He didn’t mingle. Didn’t talk. Just watched. Waiting. Until eventually… dawn inched closer, and still, no sign of you.

"Why don’t you just go to her?" Lando muttered beside him.

Oscar didn’t respond. He’d already surrendered his phone to Lando earlier, mostly so he wouldn’t do something stupid, like send a long, slightly desperate paragraph. Or worse, scroll your socials like a stalker. He didn’t want to seem too much. Too overbearing.

"Well," Oscar said, sighing, "her not being here tonight... might be the answer. Just give her space." A beat. "But for the record, you should probably cool it with the Gatsby thing."

Is he competing with Gatsby? Lando thought.

Oscar didn’t reply. But he still kept watching the door.

And so it began.

Every Friday night, Oscar threw a party. Always inviting Lambda Rose. Always hoping. You never came. Your friends did sometimes. They always shook their heads when Lando tried to ask about you.

And every Friday, the parties got bigger. Flashier. A jazz band one week. A DJ with a fire show the next. Fireworks after that. It became a thing: Friday Fever at Sigma Sector One.

People called it tradition. They didn’t know the truth. Oscar wasn’t throwing these parties for the frat.

He was throwing them for you. All of it. For you.

--

Weirdly enough, Lambda Rose kept getting invites to Sigma Sector One’s Friday parties. Every single week, without fail.

And every single week you declined.

At first, it was easy to say you were busy. You were wrapping up your thesis, juggling internship requirements, and leading two sorority events back-to-back. But the truth?

You were avoiding Oscar.

Not because you didn’t want to see him. But because... lately, everything felt too much.

The pressure to keep excelling. The stress from your academic load. And then there were the feelings.

Feelings you didn’t know what to do with.

Because what if Oscar didn’t feel the same? What if you were misreading everything?

You’d been lowkey ghosting him. Not completely, but enough to create space. Still, that didn’t stop him. He kept sending blueberry cheesecakes, always from your favorite café. No note, no name just your favorite dessert every Friday morning. A quiet, patient devotion that both warmed and terrified you.

You caught yourself overthinking the smallest things: Does he see me platonically? And if he does like me… can we even handle this with college and everything else in our lives?

It was easier to hide behind deadlines and excuses than to face it all.

"Hey! Y/N!"

You turned around. Lando Norris jogged up to you, slightly out of breath but still grinning.

"Lando…" you said with a small, guilty smile. You weren’t sure why but talking to him suddenly felt like talking to Oscar’s proxy.

"I’m good," he said. "But how about you? Haven’t seen you at a single Friday Fever night. What’s up with that?"

You cleared your throat. "Got a little busy with my thesis. You know how it is."

Lando nodded slowly, but you could tell he wasn’t fully convinced. Still, he didn’t press.

"Fair enough. Just in case you’re not busy this Friday..." He hesitated, watching your reaction. "We’re throwing another one. Kind of a farewell party for Oz."

Your entire world tilted slightly.

"A what?" you asked, brows furrowed.

"A farewell. He’s leaving after the semester. Going back to Australia."

Everything inside you went still.

Your stomach sank like a stone. The tight hold you had on your books suddenly felt like it was keeping you upright.

"Oh…" was all you managed to say.

"I thought you knew." Lando’s tone was softer now. Genuinely confused. "He didn’t tell you?"

You shook your head, eyes glazed in thought. Oscar hadn’t said anything. Maybe he thought you wouldn’t care. Maybe he thought… you were already gone.

"W-Well, I’ll see if I can go," you said quickly, voice cracking slightly.

Lando nodded, but before he could say anything more, you turned on your heel.

You needed to get away. The thudding of your heartbeat drowned everything else out. Your grip tightened around your books, your pace quickened like you were outrunning something.

Because maybe you were. Regret, maybe. Or the realization that you may have waited too long.

Oscar’s going back to Australia. What the fuck.

---

After your conversation with Lando, everything around you felt muffled. The breeze? Too loud. Your heartbeat? Deafening. Your thoughts? A chaotic spiral of he's leaving?, why didn’t he tell me?, why does this hurt suddenly?

You barely remembered how you got back to the sorority house. You pushed the door open, dropped your bag, and flopped face-first onto the couch with a dramatic groan.

"Oh god, what now?" Carmen asked, eyeing you from the kitchen island.

Kika peeked around the corner. "She looks like someone just stole her dessert."

"Oscar's going back to Australia," you mumbled into the couch cushion, voice muffled.

The room went quiet for a second.

"Wait. You didn’t know that?" Kika asked carefully.

You sat up slowly, your face pale. "No. Lando told me. Apparently, there’s a farewell party this Friday."

The girls exchanged glances. Guilty ones.

"What?" you narrowed your eyes.

Carmen bit her lip. "Okay, so… don’t be mad. But we’ve been keeping something from you."

"Actually… a lot of somethings." Rebecca added, sitting beside you.

You blinked. "What are you talking about?"

Kika sat across from you and leaned forward, voice soft but sure. "Oscar was the one who arranged that R&R night when you were on the verge of burnout during hell week."

"What?" you breathed.

"And the blueberry cheesecake that magically showed up at the café that day?" Carmen raised a brow. "Yeah. That was him too."

Your jaw dropped slightly.

"That was before I even knew his name....."

"Exactly." Kika nodded. "He saw you in the library that one time and noticed how stressed you looked. He didn’t know how to talk to you, so he started with cheesecake."

You were stunned.

"And Chase Atlantic?" you whispered. "The fundraiser concert?"

"His idea," Carmen confirmed. "He remembered you mentioning it once during your charity event. Pulled strings, spent a ton of his own money. Guessed you'd come if it was your favorite band and... made it a fundraiser so it wouldn't be obvious."

Your chest tightened. How come did your friends knew about this and you are not?

"And every Friday theme?" Rebecca added with a grin. "All your favorite aesthetics. From the food to the lighting to the chill games. He planned those hoping you’d show up."

Your throat felt like it was closing.

"Why didn’t you tell me all this sooner?" you asked, voice cracking.

"Because you were in denial," Kika said simply. "And we thought maybe you'd figure it out on your own."

You slumped back against the couch, overwhelmed.

Oscar, quiet, Oscar had been there. Always. Not loudly. Not with grand declarations. But with every small, intentional thing that showed he paid attention.

And now he was leaving.

"Oh my god," you whispered.

Carmen rubbed your arm gently. "You still have time."

"If you stop ghosting him and actually show up Friday night," Kika added with a wink.

Your heart was racing.

Maybe it wasn’t just you falling. Maybe… he’d been waiting this whole time.

--

Friday came with a quiet dread.

You were getting ready for the party not themed, not extravagant, just a farewell gathering. But your hands trembled as you applied your mascara. You cursed under your breath, anxiety tightening in your chest. This might be the last night you’d see him if things didn’t go well.

One final glance in the mirror. You forced a breath, smoothed down your outfit, and stepped out to join the other girls. Your hands were still shaking. You felt fifteen again nervous, unsure, heart racing with a dozen what ifs rattling around in your head.

Alex noticed. She took your hand in hers, gave it a reassuring squeeze. It helped. A little.

When you arrived at the venue, everyone headed in with ease. But your feet refused to move. Cold.

“You guys go ahead. I just… need some air first,” you said quickly.

You didn’t wait for their response. You turned and walked in the opposite direction. You didn’t know where you were going only that you had to move. Away. Away from the noise, the people, the possibility.

--

“This’ll be the last one,” Oscar muttered to Charles. “Then I’ll lie low for a while.” The frat house had been soundproofed, but the neighbors still complained. Fireworks. Car horns. Drunken chaos at 2 a.m.

Now the place was packed again but Oscar barely noticed. His eyes kept scanning the crowd.

Still no sign of you. Just your friends. Again. It had been a month. And each week chipped away at him a little more.

What if I’ve really lost her?

“You look upset,” Lando said, approaching with two drinks in hand. “She didn’t come?”

Oscar didn’t answer at first. He just took the champagne, even though he was never much of a drinker.

“I swear, I can feel she’s coming,” Lando added, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Since when had he become the optimist?

Oscar sighed. “After this, no more parties.”

He took a long sip.

“Maybe I pushed too hard and she is freaking out. Did too much. Is this love bombing?”

Lando scoffed. “No. Trust me she’s not freaking out because of you. She’s freaking out for a different reason.”

--

Midnight struck.

The sky exploded in color blazing reds, golds, electric blues lighting up the night like a living painting. People from the frat house spilled out, cheering as the fireworks bloomed above.

Oscar stood just beyond the doorway, hands in his pockets, chest tight. He scanned the crowd again.

Still no sign of you.

He sighed, jaw clenched. Maybe she really didn’t come.

The cold bit through his shirt, but he didn’t care. He stepped out for air, moving past the noise, past the drunken laughter and echoing music. And then, through the fading glow of the last firework, he saw a figure standing alone by the edge of the street.

Still. Quiet. Familiar.

You.

You were staring up at the fireworks, but your expression was somber eyes glassy, lips pressed into a trembling line. You looked like someone watching something beautiful they couldn’t keep.

Oscar stopped in his tracks.

You didn’t notice him at first. You were lost in your thoughts, in your regret. You’d made it all the way here but couldn’t walk inside. You coward, you told yourself. You couldn’t even tell him goodbye.

“He’s leaving,” you whispered under your breath. “And I couldn’t even look him in the eye.”

Your heart cracked again. This was it. You were about to lose him because of fear.

Then you heard footsteps.

You turned.

And there he was.

Oscar stared at you like he couldn’t believe you were real. And you… you looked like you were about to fall apart.

For a long, silent moment, neither of you moved. The fireworks ended, the crowd quieted, and it was just the two of you in the stillness.

Oscar finally stepped forward, voice low and rough, “You came.”

You swallowed hard. “I couldn’t go in.”

He tilted his head, confused. “Why?”

“Because…” You looked down, shame heavy in your chest. “I thought I was too late. That I missed my chance. That you were leaving for Australia.”

Oscar blinked, taken aback. “What?”

You frowned. “Lando said you were flying out. That this was your send-off.”

He stared at you for a beat then exhaled sharply, almost a laugh, almost a curse. “Of course he did.”

Your brows furrowed. “Wait… so you're not leaving?”

“No,” he said, stepping closer. “I never was.”

You were quiet for a moment. “Then why would he.....”

“He probably got sick of watching me lose sleep over you,” Oscar murmured. “And he was right. If he hadn’t said that… would you still be out here?”

You hesitated, voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know.”

Silence fell again. The air between you buzzed with something fragile and raw.

Oscar’s voice cracked through it. “For what it’s worth… I was still going to say it tonight. Leaving or not.”

You looked up at him.

“I love you,” he said, plain and certain. “And not in a dramatic, one-night confession way. I don't know when, I just know. And every time I thought it was fading, it got worse. And I’ve been trying to find the right moment, but maybe there’s no such thing.”

Your lip trembled. “Oscar…”

“I’m not leaving,” he repeated gently, stepping even closer, “unless you tell me to.”

You shook your head, eyes already filling. “I thought you were gone. And it broke me. I thought I waited too long to say that.....” You swallowed, voice cracking. “I love you too.”

He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for a month.

Then you were in his arms, burying your face in his chest, and everything you’d held in finally spilled out in tears. The fear. The guilt. The love.

Oscar held you like you were everything he’d ever wanted to come home to.

--

Back inside the frat house, the energy had mellowed. The music was softer now, people lounging on couches or dancing lazily in dim corners. A few leftover sparklers fizzled out on the porch, and champagne glasses clinked quietly in the kitchen.

Oscar walked in first, your hand tucked tightly in his. Your eyes were still a little red, your mascara slightly smudged but you were glowing in a way that had nothing to do with fireworks.

Lando spotted you both immediately from the snack table, mid-bite into a slice of pizza. His brows lifted then a slow, smug grin spread across his face.

“Oh,” he said around a mouthful. “So she did come.”

Oscar didn’t break stride. He just walked right up, eyes narrowed in mock annoyance.

“You lied to her.”

Lando blinked. “Technically, I bent the truth. Strategically.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You told me he was leaving for Australia.”

Lando pointed at Oscar with his pizza. “And look now he’s not. Because you finally showed up. Mission accomplished.”

Oscar crossed his arms. “You manipulated both of us.”

“You’re welcome.”

You couldn’t help it you laughed. You looked at Oscar, who was trying hard to look mad but already cracking a smile.

“Okay, fine,” Oscar said. “But if this had gone sideways, I would’ve blamed you forever.”

Lando raised his glass. “I was willing to take that risk. That’s how invested I am in your love story.”

You rolled your eyes, but with a smile. “You really watch too many rom-coms.”

Lando winked. “And yet… the ending was worth it.”

Oscar shook his head and pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You leaned into him, soft and warm, feeling something new settle between you something steady. Something right.

Lando took another bite of pizza and mumbled, “You’re lucky I didn’t fake a visa application just to seal the deal.”

You and Oscar both laughed.

--

The party pulsed behind you with soft music and the occasional burst of laughter, but here just outside on the steps, under the glow of porch lights and a sky still recovering from fireworks it felt like you were in your own world.

Your cheeks were still damp from crying, but you were smiling now. The kind of small, stunned smile that said did that really just happen?

Oscar hadn’t stopped looking at you.

“I still can’t believe Lando pulled that stunt,” you muttered, shaking your head.

Oscar chuckled. “Honestly? Me neither. But… maybe he knew what he was doing.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re not giving him that much credit, are you?”

He smirked. “Okay, maybe just a little.”

Then he grew quiet again thoughtful. He turned to face you fully, still holding your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I know this night’s been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster,” he said. “And that it’s probably not the most conventional timing...”

You looked up at him, heart already beating a little faster.

“But I meant what I said. I love you. And now that you know that—now that we’re here… I want to do this right.”

You blinked. “Do what right?”

“This,” he said, gently tugging you a little closer. “You. Me. Us. No more misfires or waiting around or hoping you show up outside the party.”

You laughed softly, breath catching.

“I want to take you on a real date,” he said, voice firmer now. “Not a party. Not some random hangout. A real one. You, me, and absolutely no Lando interference.”

You grinned, biting your lip. “Is this you officially asking?”

He smiled back, eyes shining. “Yeah. What do you say?”

You paused for dramatic effect, like you were really considering it—then leaned in and whispered, “Took you long enough.”

Oscar laughed, and before he could say anything else, you kissed him. Quick. Sweet. Certain.

He looked stunned for half a second then completely floored.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he mumbled.

You nodded. “Only if there’s ice cream involved.”

“There will be. And flowers. And probably me being painfully nervous because it’s you.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder. “You’ll do great.”

From the open window above, Lando’s voice called out, “OH MY GOD ARE YOU GUYS DATING NOW? YOU OWE ME.”

Oscar groaned, face buried in your hair. “I take it back. We’re eloping in secret.”

You giggled. And as you sat there with him under the soft hum of the party, it didn’t matter what came next.

Because this time, you were finally heading into it—together.

[lorelune]

"do you know what they write about us?" "plenty, i would assume. tell me what the tabloids say." "they say that the general has charmed a diviner." "hm, i would wager that it is you who has charmed me.”

i am so!!! SO!!! crying 😭🩷 beloved bitti @rabbbitseason truly actualized loreyuan :'^) this piece is apart of our little trade and i am so!! grateful!! to have the opportunity to work with them and receive such lovely art!! they were a dream to work with, truly. this piece turned out so damn lovely and i am STILL CRYING. now brb i need to stare and swoon over my wife some more 🩷

[faetealights]

.

[damselneedssaving]

「 DON'T GET THE DOOR 」

OLDER!CLINGY!DAMIAN WAYNE X F!READER

★ SYNOPSIS: After days of being too busy to be intimate with you, Damian's finally got you propped up on the kitchen island, sweet and like putty in his hands, when a sudden knock sounds at the door... and he absolutely refuses to let you go and answer it.

★ TAGS: damian is 18+, suggestive content, nothing too much—just making out, and a bit more, damian is physically incapable of keeping his hands off you, srsly babe wtf did you do to him, dick and jason cameo at the end

★ A/N: just some dami hating everyone but you action 🤭 enjoy trying to get him off you lmao

line divider by @cafekitsune

Damian's gaze is heavy as it runs all over you, soaking you in with an intensity that makes you squirm on the counter, the marble cool against your bare thighs.

His hands are firm on your waist, sitting there like that's where they're meant to be—like they know no place else—as his chest moves to press up against your own, and his body stands situated right between your thighs, hot and present.

"I've missed you, Habibti," he whispers after a beat of just staring, and it comes out breathless, framed a little by disbelief, like he just can't fathom you're actually there.

You can only squirm in response, eyes ready to move to the side in all their bashful glory—when he ushers them back to him, fingers gentle against your chin.

"I've barely seen you these past few days—and now that I can, you choose to hide from me?"

You blink back at him, eyes wide and head shaking from side-to-side to convey what you can't with words, what you can't under the intensity of his gaze.

He hums, and he's so close now, so within kissing distance, that his breath fans over your face, minty and fresh, begging and pleading.

You don't even realise the way your lids grow heavy until it takes only half the time it usually does to shut them, until you're leaning forward and eager to meet him halfway as it registers to you just how much you've missed his touch.

Damian receives you with open arms, lips pressing against your own as he further pushes himself against you, hands now curling around your waist instead of situated at its sides.

All you can breathe is the scent of nature and cologne, drowning in all that is him until your head grows dizzy and your body begins to shake, until you're suffocating in heat and pounding need.

He kisses you like he's running out of time to, like at any minute, he'll be forced to pull away, hungry and desperate and left with an ache near impossible to fill.

He also kisses you like he has all the time in the world to, like he's taking in a piece of art, studying every inch until he has it etched into his mind forever.

It's too much—it's not enough—and you're left a panting mess when he pulls away, the air hot and heavy and seeping so much steam it practically fogs up your vision.

"Dami..."

He hums, lips now on your neck, having moved there as soon as he pulled away as though incapable of truly ever leaving you.

Your fingers move to card through his hair, and he groans right into your skin, just above a vein, sending a vibration straight through your body.

God, the moment is just so perfect, and you've just been so starved for attention, and everything in the world seems to just be going so right, that it feels wrong, like something will happen to ruin it all.

Something like a knock at your door.

At first, you think you're imagining it, because Damian continues to litter your skin with kisses like nothing's happened, his hands even beginning to roam beneath the hem of your shirt, touch light against your skin.

But then you hear it again, louder this time, and you're sure that it's real.

But Damian acts like it isn't.

His hands continue tracing patterns into your skin, lips painting your neck like it's one of his canvases as he worships you with all the devotion of a man begging for his life.

It's only when a third knock, even harder and louder than the former two, sounds from the door that he shows even a hint of acknowledgement, fingers digging into your sides, but not enough to hurt, your Damian would never hurt you.

"Damian!" a voice calls from the other side of the door, deep and insistent, "I know you're in there! Open up!"

"Would you be quiet?" another hisses right after, "People are looking."

You blink, pulling back a little, only for your boyfriend to chase after you.

Another knock at the door.

Damian growls into your skin just as you call softly, "Dami."

"Ignore those two idiots," he scoffs out with all the vitriol of a man wronged, one starved of something he's needed for far too long. "They'll leave eventually."

You nod, readily and easily because you don't particularly care for answering the door either. Not when he's holding you so sweet, and kissing you so right, and loving you like you're the only thing in his sight.

And you practically are with how he devours you, biting and sucking as he tastes you enough to shoot tingles down your spine and flood your veins with heat.

"Maybe he's not home," one of the two voices says, and you're just lucid enough to recognise it as Jason's.

"Oh he's home alright," the other responds, and you're quick to find that it's Dick.

But then all your lucidity washes out your veins because Damian's fingers start to crawl up your skin, and you're parting your lips to warn him with another call of his name.

"Dami—"

"Shh," he hushes you gently, and you know he doesn't mean it, soft and reverent as his hand reaches up to play with the band of your bra, lifting and snapping it back in place to send a jolt down your spine.

Your eyes dart to his, a heat pooling low in your stomach, and he simply meets your gaze with his own hooded one.

Then he moves to capture your lips again, and you're moaning low against his mouth, lips parting just a brief amount to let him in, when another huge bang slams against your door.

You pull back with a frantic, "Coming!"

Damian is already moving to try and capture your lips again, but you shut him down immediately, hands pressed firmly against his chest.

"Damian."

He growls, cursing beneath his breath in Arabic as he lingers a second longer, fingers curling against your skin. But he does ultimately let go, backing away enough to leave you room to hop off the counter, but not enough so that you can't feel the heat of him against you once you do.

And as you make your way towards the door, Damian follows right after, a shadow to his light, a knight to his princess.

A boyfriend to his girlfriend.

You swing open the door to two figures stood on the other side, both who you suspected them to be, wide-eyed and blinking as though they never thought you'd answer.

"Finally," Dick whines, lips jutted in a pout before they tug back up, flashing you one of his signature charming smiles. "Hey [Name]! Think Jason and I could crash—?"

"No."

A rush of wind flies over your face, the door to your apartment slamming shut before your very eyes to leave you dazed and a tad confused for a second.

Then a pair of arms wrap right around your waist, and that same voice that rejected the two brothers at your door is whispering right against your ear, hot and heavy, "Now... where were we?"

[mydearzero]

Bribes | Stiles Stilinski x Reader

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You get paired with Stiles to write a paper for Coach's class. But when had Stilinski grown into his awkward features? When had he grown out his buzzcut? Why was he suddenly so insanely fuckable?

Contents: NO Y/N, afab!Reader, smut, Stiles is a bit cocky lmao, fucking in the jeep, reader is related to Coach (wether adopted or not doesn't matter), vaginal fingering, p in v sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, clumsy sex, playful banter, oral sex (v receiving), casual sex, coming inside, mentions of birth control, making out if I missed any warnings please let me know!

3.5K words

Had to get Stiles out of (pls into plEASE) my system SOMEHOW, so here you go. This one is dedicated to @uglypastels for indulging my obsession and continuously sending me Dylan O'Brien thirst edits <3 <3

“Just so you’re aware, this paper is as high on my list of priorities as the Pope is in Amsterdam,” Stiles dropped his binder on the table, startling you out of your daydream. He was exactly 4 minutes late, not that you were counting. It was still impressive, seeing as he just came from practice. 

“Believe me, I, too, would rather be hanging around with Isaac Lahey, yet we’re both here. Let’s just get it over with.” Stiles snorted a laugh, but didn’t comment.

You didn’t not get along with Stilinski. You weren’t sure if you could be called friends, exactly. You’d known each other pretty much all your lives, just like the majority of your school. Beacon Hills wasn’t exactly a metropolis. 

You sighed and laid out your notes, Stiles following your example. You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Those are your notes?” 

There were only doodles, random calculations and sporadic keywords scribbled on the loose piece of crumpled paper he straightened out next to your notebook. 

“I’m surprised, too. There’s actual words. I don’t usually get that far.” The smirk on his face could only be described as smug. You groaned. This was going to take forever. You divided the topics for the paper amongst yourselves and silently got to work. The ‘silently’ part didn't last long, however. It never did with Stiles.

“Are you still living with your uncle?” He questioned suddenly. You frowned at the question, confused, but nodded either way. 

“So can’t you just, I don’t know, cook him dinner and have him give us a good grade?” The gleam in his eyes nearly made you laugh. Nearly. Instead, you flicked him on the side of the head. He whined something about unnecessary violence, but it fell on deaf ears. 

“I’m not bribing my uncle just so you can slack off, Stiles. Besides, I’m never really sure if he even likes me,” you wondered out loud. 

“You and me, both…” Stiles grumbled. 

You glanced at Stiles as he scribbled furiously, seeming to finally get some of his research done. His knees wiggled excessively as he wrote about the economic effects of pandemics. You wrote down a few key parts of the paragraphs in your book before turning to your laptop and beginning the outline of the paper. Stiles hummed quietly as he read the entry he’d just written, tapping his pen furiously against the table. 

“Can you stop that?” You requested, his incessant movement distracting you more than his general being already did. He glanced up, an amused expression on his face. 

“What,” he tapped his pencil faster. “This?” You contained the urge to roll your eyes and stared at him blankly. He stopped the movement for perhaps one whole minute before picking it back up again. 

You only glanced up pointedly this time. He added a jiggle of his knees in challenge. You rose from your chair, leaned over and snatched the pen out of his hand, throwing it across the library. “Fetch.” 

Stiles gaped up at you in surprise. The timing of it was very unfortunate, but you’d never really noticed how Stilinski had grown into his awkward features. Something must’ve shown on your face, because Stiles now looked just as confused, perhaps intrigued, as you felt. While you’d been confident in throwing his pen across the room in annoyance, having him look up at you like that made it so you weren’t sure if you wanted him to get up. You cleared your throat and sat back in your chair. 

“Unbelievable…” Stiles muttered under his breath as he got up to get the pen. It gave you time to recompose. You didn’t look at him as he sat back down, but felt his eyes burn a hole through the side of your head. 

An unfamiliar tension hung in the air while you worked in silence. You snuck glances at Stiles, who was finally focussed on his writing once more. His hair was longer, still messy and unstyled from practice. The grey workout gear perfectly accentuated his broadened shoulders. He bit his lip after reading a complex entry, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like on your own, or on your neck while your hands tugged on his now perfectly tuggable locks. 

A few times his eyes met yours. You’d quickly dart them back to your notebook, pretending you hadn’t been looking, knowing damn well he’d seen.  

Oh my god. Get. it. together.

“Did you finish?” You dared ask after a while, having completed your own part. All you had to do was put your parts together, wrap it up and finish. 

“I’ll give it to you, but you have to give something to me first,” Stiles spoke in a challenging tone. For a split second back there you’d wondered how he was still single after all this time, but now you were reminded. He was insufferable. 

“What could you possibly want from me, Stiles? Just give me your damn part.” 

“A kiss.” 

“What? No!” You sputtered. Stiles’ tongue poked the inside of his cheek cockily as he raised an eyebrow, pointing to his lips. 

“Guess you’ll have some explaining to do to your uncle why you’re only handing in half an assignment, then.” 

“This is coercion, Stilinski! Should I call your dad?” You crossed your arms, refusing to look him in the eye. The librarian shushed you loudly. You could feel heat rush to your face, but didn’t relent. Asshole. 

Stiles leaned closer, running a finger over the side of your face. Your heartbeat increased what seemed about tenfold.

“It’s not coercion if you want me to.” His breath hit your neck as he spoke, sending goosebumps down your arms. “And I’m getting the feeling you really want me to.” 

You jerked away from his reach, coming to your senses. You gathered your things into your bag, mumbling something about your GPA being fine, anyway. You stomped away from the table, heart racing. You were mad, not because he was suggesting something you didn’t want, rather that he’d clocked exactly what you wanted so easily. 

Concerned Stiles would follow you out of the library, you hid behind a few bookshelves in a section nobody usually visited. You caught your breath, placing your palm on your chest. You dropped your bag on the floor, turning to peek around the bookshelf to see if Stiles was still stationed at the table. Relieved, you saw he’d indeed decided to follow you out of the library.

You turned back to grab your bag and head out, but were met with Stiles’ face mere inches from your own. You were startled, but he grabbed your waist before you could fall over. His hold was strong. Your hands instinctively went up to his chest, steadying yourself. Had he always been this tall? 

One of his hands wandered slightly lower, rubbing small circles on your lower back. Your eyes met his, which were just shining with mischief and an underlying sense of self-satisfaction. His tongue darted out, licking his lower lip. 

“Can I be frank? You’re incredibly annoying,” you stated, slinging your arms around his neck, finally giving in. 

“You can be whoever you want as long as I get to kiss you, Frank,” Stiles laughed. You groaned but pulled him close either way. 

“Shut up.” 

Stiles obliged and put his mouth to yours aggressively, tugging your body against his. One of his hands wandered up, cupping the back of your head to bring it closer. You tugged at the small locks at the back of his neck, eliciting a sighed moan from Stiles. 

“You’re so hot,” he confessed when you broke apart for a second. He turned you so you were pushed with your back against the bookcase, a few books falling to the floor. Neither of you cared as your kiss continued, deepening by the second. His hands held your hips as he started grinding against you, sweats low on his hips. His mouth made its way down your jaw, moving to suck hasty kisses on your neck. 

“Stiles…” you sighed blissfully. Heat gathered in your stomach at the soft, breathy noises coming from his lips combined with the sound of them against your skin. He put his knee between your thighs.

“Knew you wanted this as much as I did, fuck,” Stiles groaned. The pressure from his knee was delicious, but not enough. It was almost as if he could read your mind as he slid his hand into your bottoms, working your underwear out of the way somewhat clumsily. 

“God… so wet for me,” he moaned. You could only reply with breathy whimpers, trying to make as little noise as possible. Stiles shushed you, placing his unoccupied hand over your mouth as the other started rubbing small circles over your clit. You closed your eyes and let your head fall against the bookcase. Your knees went weak at the sensation, not much holding you up besides Stiles. 

He slipped his hand out of your underwear, bringing a finger up to his mouth. He casually licked it clean. He hooked his thumbs into your bottoms, seeking eye contact and asking for non-verbal permission to tug them down. You bit your lip and nodded enthusiastically. When your underwear hit the floor, so did Stiles’ knees. Your eyes darted around your environment, but the school was nearly empty at this time, especially the library. 

You had to slap your hand over your mouth when Stiles made contact with your clit, his tongue tentatively licking between your folds. Your breathing was laboured, chest heaving as Stiles took his time exploring. Your bottom lip found itself between your teeth, holding in your moans. Your hands shot to Stiles’ hair. Perfectly tuggable, indeed. 

He groaned when you gave an exceptionally sharp tug, taking the time to look you in the eyes. The vibrations of his lowered voice felt good. You had seemingly no control over your hands, fingers tightening their grip the closer you got to the edge. 

“Shit, baby… So good for me. Gotta stay quiet…” Stiles mumbled. A small, high pitched keen left your lips. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to keep the silence up. You looked down once more and saw Stiles palming himself over his sweats as he continued eating you out, rhythmically grinding his hips in time with his mouth. 

The sound of a bag zipper closing got your attention. You smacked Stiles’ shoulder to stop, wanting to whine in frustration at just how close you’d been. Stiles paid you no mind, lost in giving you pleasure. You put both your hands on his shoulders and pushed him away, careful not to tip him over. It was only then Stiles noticed the noise of someone packing up to leave. He scrambled to stand up, trying to help you get redressed. 

“I got it, I got it,” you hissed quietly. 

“Who’s there? You can’t be here anymore! Library’s about to close!” It was the librarian who’d shushed you earlier. You grabbed your bag in a hurry. 

“Would you still rather be hanging out with Isaac?” Stiles asked jokingly, wiping his chin. You whacked his arm, storming past him to the doors. He followed quickly, arm wandering over your shoulders as you walked out of the now deserted school. You didn’t speak as Stiles led you over to the Jeep, insisting on driving you home, at least. 

You sat in the passenger seat as Stiles ran around to the drivers’ side. You wiped your hands on your thighs, huffing a frustrated breath. You hadn’t even finished the paper, and now you got cock-blocked on top of it. So not worth it. You turned to Stiles as he put the keys in the ignition. He’d never looked hotter than that very second, lips bruised, hair tousled and still pent up, besides maybe when he looked up at you with his face buried between your legs. Okay so maybe a little worth it. 

“If you keep looking at me like that I’m gonna pull over and we’re gonna have sex in the back seat like right now,” Stiles joked. Or at least, you assumed it was a joke. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, threat or invitation?” 

“Option D? All of the above? I mean, D is definitely an option.”

“Pull over and we’ll see how much of an option it is.” 

Stiles didn’t need to be told twice, pulling over in a small clearing as soon as he saw the opportunity. He took off his seatbelt, scrambling to get out of the car. He opened the door for you, closing it and letting you in the back seat. You laid back across the seats and manoeuvred your top off, throwing it at Stiles. He caught it, quickly discarding it somewhere in the car. He shimmied his pants down his legs, not bothering to take off his shoes. You did the same, leaving you in your underwear. Stiles stopped to take a proper look. 

“You’re gonna kill me. You’ve already killed me and this is my pre-hell Heaven trailer of what could’ve been. God iwantyousobad.” You pulled him on top of you as you laughed. 

“Less talking, more fucking, yes?” 

“Yes, I agree. Wholeheartedly,” Stiles nodded furiously, tugging his shirt over his head with only one hand. Hot. He finally closed the car door behind him before he could forget. 

“I’m going to assume you don’t just casually keep condoms in your car?” You questioned. Stiles closed his eyes and tightened his lips in frustration, mentally scolding himself. He finally had you in his Jeep, half-naked, ready to fuck, and he didn’t have a freaking condom??? He finally shook his head no, sighing and pulling away from you slowly. 

You leaned up on your elbows and whispered in his ear. “Hmmm… Guess you’re just gonna have to come inside of me… Wouldn’t want to make a mess of the car…” 

Stiles pounced at that, kissing you like his life depended on it. He tugged your underwear back down your legs, now very familiar with your pelvic region. He struggled to undo your bra, cursing under his breath. You laughed and lended a hand, undoing it and slipping it off your shoulders. 

“Holy shit,” Stiles groaned. “Promise me to thank Coach for pairing us up.” 

“You did not just mention my uncle as a reaction to seeing me naked,” you complained. 

“I did. Not sorry. He did me a favour.” 

You ignored the comment and decided to kiss him to shut him back up. Him and his mouth… God his mouth. You were still pent up from the library, and if he didn’t fuck you soon you were pretty sure you’d go crazy. 

“Stiles, want you,” you whined impatiently. He was too busy paying attention to your nipples, taking one between his teeth as he made eye contact. “Shit,” you gasped.

Your hands wandered down his torso, stopping at the hem of his boxers. You tugged them down, setting his very hard cock free from its confinement. The tip was red, dribbling with pre-cum. He was obviously just as pent up as you felt. You gave him a few experimental tugs with your hand before lining him up with your entrance. 

Stiles took over, taking his time to slowly push inside you. You put your hands on his shoulders, holding your breath at the stretch. He was so much bigger than you’d expected. You both moaned when he bottomed out. You felt so full, it was insane. You dug your nails into his shoulders and gave him a nod, indicating he could move. 

He set a slow pace, testing the waters. He was enthralled by the jiggle of your tits with every movement. Typical. His hands moved up to hold them, almost as leverage, as he picked up his pace. 

“Fuck, so good,” Stiles moaned. You were about to move a hand down to touch yourself, but Stiles stopped you. 

“Let me make you feel good, let me make you come.” He put one hand on your shoulder to steady himself and brought the other down to where you were joined. He continued to thrust, putting his fingers on your clit. It took him a second, but he found a rhythm where he could thrust and stroke at the same time. 

“Oh my god, Stiles!” You moaned, the added sensation feeling amazing. The sound of his hips slapping against yours was filthy to say the least. You moved to hold onto something above your head as Stiles sped up. Your hands soon found the little ledge, and you gripped it to the best of your ability. 

Stiles bent down to kiss you, pace still unrelenting. The new angle of him bent forward sent his cock exactly where you needed it. 

“Shit, oh my god.” It was all the confirmation Stiles needed to keep it up. 

“So pretty, so tight around my cock. Such pretty tits. You feel so good,” he mumbled against your lips. 

The pace of his hips became more erratic, both of you nearing the edge. Your knuckles turned white with how tight you were gripping the car door. 

“Gonna come inside you,” Stiles moaned. “Fill you up so nice.” 

“Yes, Stiles, please!”  

“Fuck, so good, so good for me,” Stiles was becoming more talkative and less coherent as he lost himself in the pleasure. He was mouthing at your jawline, sucking another hickey where there were already plenty. 

“Fuck, Stiles, gonna come,” you whined. You could feel his smile against your neck. Smug idiot. He then started rubbing your clit exactly the way you liked it. Combined with him hitting that spot inside you over and over and over again, you were seeing stars. 

“Don’t stop, please,” another moan left your lips. 

“Come for me. Come on my cock. So pretty, so good,” Stiles blabbered. 

“Fuck! Stiles!” You keened, tightening around his dick as you came. He kissed you again as his hips stuttered, thrusting a few more times before painting your walls with his cum. His head fell on your chest as you both caught your breath.

When his breathing had slowed, he groaned before lifting himself off you, chuckling as he pecked both your nipples, then your lips before looking for something to clean you with. He settled on the shirt of his lacrosse uniform. 

“Ugh, gross,” you mumbled as he wiped you clean. Stiles shrugged. “It was going into the wash, anyway.” 

Stiles put his underwear and sweats back on, opening the door and getting out so you could have the space to redress yourself. When you reached under the seat for your bra, you pulled out a baseball bat. “Why do you have a baseball bat in your car?” 

“No… Particular reason. Safety. Lots of dangerous animals… out there.” 

“So you settled on a bat?” You wondered, holding the object. Stiles nodded, not meeting your eyes, his locked on your still naked chest. You threw the bat at him and laughed, reaching under the seat again and this time pulling out your bra. 

When you were finally dressed, you got back in the passenger seat so Stiles could drive you home. It wasn’t a long drive, as you’d already been halfway there before pulling over. He drove up the driveway, and you cringed on the inside, hoping your uncle wouldn’t see who dropped you off. You took your bag and got out of the car, walking around to the drivers’ side where Stiles was already leaning out the window. 

You looked at him and gave him a small smile. You leaned forward to give him a kiss goodbye. “You better email me your part of the paper tonight, Stilinski.” 

“You bet, babe,” he winked and gave you a salute, watching as you laughed and turned to walk inside the house. 

You closed the door and took off your shoes, hanging your coat and leaving your bag by the door. “I’m home!” 

Coach took one look at your appearance and frowned. Right… maybe you should’ve straightened yourself out before walking into the living room. Disheveled hair, hickeys on your neck, it wasn’t exactly rocket science as to why you were home later than usual. 

“If you’re gonna be having boys over, do it when I’m not around, please? I have enough of them to deal with at practice and in class. And at least have the decency to tell an uncle who he’s dealing with.” 

You cringed as the Jeep’s headlights very obviously flashed through the window at that very second, Stiles driving home. It was anything but unrecognizable. 

“Stilinski!? You’re sleeping with STILINSKI?! God, kill me now. If I’m now expected to have him over for Christmas dinner you better throw me off a bridge. And you BETTER use protection because I’m NOT gonna have Mini-linski’s running around.” 

[cathnospam]

I seen this tiktok and I unfortunately thought about wearing it for Bakugo even though something tells me he wouldn’t give a fuck about you wearing lingerie because you could wear a parka and he’d still wanna put his dick inside you.

You don’t really wear many cute/sexy clothing. The most revealing outfits have been during a Gala and your hero costume. It’s not on purpose nor are you self conscious you have a BANGING body, but you just wasn’t a “fashionista “, but of course you weren’t a bum.

You were an average, tight/jeans w a top/hoodie kinda girl.

Bakugo even has dressed you a few times before, and he wasn’t too bad…

Until he actually got jealous men were staring at your curves and ass as if he didn’t pick the tightest dress he could find for you.

Hypocrite.

Regardless , his birthday was coming up and you wanted to surprise him.

After doom scrolling on tiktok you found a couple things he reposted on his account he liked but you got an ad for some lingerie, the girl even had a similar build as you! It was perfect.

But also risky.

Bakugo never seen interest in that type of clothing. You’ve both went shopping at Victoria secret a few times during a sale and when you joked about getting a g-string or two he just rolled his eyes saying you might as well wear nothing.

But you were a risk taker and your boyfriend alone was a risk so why not.

You bought several different types of pieces, some see through, some with holes in areas you found…interesting, and had one custom made with his name embroidered on it.

Tonight though you wanted to do a test run.

It was late and so was Bakugo. He called and said he was just 5 minutes away so you put the last bit of fluff to your curls and reapply your lip gloss.

When your fiancé comes in he is usually greeted by your hugs and smothering him half to death, but it was quiet, the room has an aroma of tonight’s dinner you had wrapped up for him so it can still be warm when he comes home, candels were lit, and the ambience felt….comforting.

“Babe…” His voice echoes roughly through the hallway you have a slight panic of whether or not you should pop out or wait for him to come and see you, but it was too late he was already at the door of your room.

“Hey…” You quickly turn, standing up straight and holding your hands together , giving your breast a slight more cleavage, “um…surprise!”

He just….

Stood there.

He wasn’t mad, he wasn’t shocked, he wasn’t annoyed he had a very indescribable look about him, but his eyes were going all over the place.

Bakugo looked at your face, then breast, then legs. And he did it for a few seconds until he approached you, constantly wiping his face.

“You…like it—-mph!!”

He almost knocked the wind out of your chest when he cupped your face to kiss you. It was hungry, messy, and wet. All your could hear was low growls and harsh breathing from his nose.

Completely unlike him since you’re usually the one initiating the kisses.

“Do-ahem…” you try to clear your throat and steady your voice, but it was too late his huge hands was on your body, squeezing and slapping everywhere on your ass, making your moan into his mouth. “‘Suki!”

He picked you up, your legs immediately wrapped around his waist as you giggle with his small suckles to your neck had you ticklish and turned on, “Do you like the look or what!?”

“What do you think.” He was kneeled in between your thighs pointing at his baggy pants that STILL managed to show a tent forming, it was kinda hot.

“Well can you at least say it!….took forever to get ready…”

“Sucks because I’m finna rip it off.”

“WHAT?!”

“I can rip it off or fuck you in it pick one.”

You fake pout hearing him throw off his shirt, his chest twitching involuntarily, he snickers seeing your still eye his hand taking off his belt with one hand , trying to close your legs, but he was way bigger than you and in your way.

“I’ll just fuck you in it. I can see your tits just fine through the fabric.”

“Katsuki!”

Full blown laughing at this point he hover over your and kisses the corner of your mouth, “You look fucking gorgeous, but you knew that.”

“So…”

“So…” The more he pushes closer towards you the more you lower yourself down, “‘M ganna…”

He kisses your lips, sucking on the bottom one with every punctuation, “show you…”

He kisses you again until you’re laid flat on the pillow, “how beautiful I know you to be. This outfit….fuck.” He sits up for a moment to wipe his face to try to distract how red he’s turning but he can’t help it.

He needs you.

An hour, and 4 orgasms later your clothes were soaked and thrown on the ground and curled into your man’s sweaty, bit up arms.

“What was the occasion for wearing that?”

“…no reason.” You shrug tracing his scars on his face, “Just wanted to see if you liked when I…switch it up on you.”

Safe to say though, Bakugo does indeed love lingerie, but only if you wear it.

[classyrbf]

ᯓ★ BETTER THAN YOUR BOYFRIEND! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...what happens when your boyfriend cheats on you and you look towards your best friend for help

INFO...jjk men (toji, gojo, geto, nanami) x fem!reader, reader gets cheated on, riding, sending a video to your ex, oral (f!receiving), car sex, kinda cute/some fluff in the beginning, pet names (doll, princess, baby, sweetheart), creampie, possessiveness, choking, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

ᯓ★ TOJI

When you showed up on Toji’s doorstep in the middle of the night with tears pouring down your face he was more than ready to kill whoever made your cry. He wasn’t surprised when you told him your shitty boyfriend had cheated on you and not with just one girl but multiple. Toji never liked your boyfriend, he could tell that guy was up no to good from the start, reading him like a book. He’d be sure to beat the shit out of him once he helped you gain composure.

“I’m sorry for showing up so late,” you hiccuped as he wiped your tears.

“Don’t worry about it, doll. You know I’m always here for you.” He gave you a soft smile. Toji hated to see you this way, you were too pretty to be crying over some guy who looked like he crawled from the sewers. “That guy was a piece of shit. You deserve better.”

“But, every guy I’ve been with or tried to be with has done me so wrong!” It only made more tears spill from your eyes. Toji engulfed you in a hug, rubbing your back. “Toji?” You sniffled.

“Yeah?” He pulled away from you, wiping your tears again.

“Kiss me. Right now,” you demanded. You had to see for yourself if what you’ve been feeling these last couple of weeks was absolutely true. Toji had zero clue, but you’ve been thinking about him way too much, more than a best friend should, feeling more than a best friend should. And when he planted his lips on yours, cupping your face, kissing you like a starved man, you didn’t quite expect your tears of sadness to be turned into tears of pleasure.

“Nnngh, Toji!” You moaned, his fat tip rubbing against your g-spot with each thrust of his hips. Your arms clung around his neck, fingers resting in his black silky hair.

“Can’t—mmm, fuck—believe he’d cheat on you! His fucking loss!” He growled in your ear, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, hugging you close to him. Your pussy clenched down around him, milking him for his every worth, juices dripping down his length and onto his balls. “So tight, doll—oh shit!” He grunted. Lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your ass filled the room, echoing off the walls around you. “Been wanting you forever, craving you.”

Your brows furrow in pleasure, barely able to contain your moans as you and Toji stare into each others eyes. “M-me too!” You whimper, nodding your head at him. You lips messily interlock, tongue gliding against one another, swallowing each others moans.

“Let’s show him what he’s missing, baby.” He smirks, reaching for your phone on the couch. His thrusts come to a stop, clicking on your now ex boyfriend’s contact and opening the camera to record a video. “Go nice and slow for me,” he says huskily.

Slowly, you move your hips up and down his thick shaft, whimpering when you feel him throb against your walls. Toji angles the camera up, a devious look in his eye. He moves it back down when you start to move faster, you sloppy pussy squelching when you slam your hips down on his. Toji slaps your ass a few times before grabbing it, guiding your hips to go slower once again. “That’s it, doll. Good fucking girl,” he lowly chuckles in your ear. Toji ends the video, sending it and tossing the phone to the side.

“I can’t believe we actually did that,” you giggle, biting down on your lip. Not even one minute passed before your phone began ringing, vibrating on the couch but you were too busy getting your brains fucked out to even notice. “Ah, you’re so deep,” you mewl, the curve of his dick making your back arch.

“Better get used to it cause we won’t be stopping anytime soon.” He placed a wet kiss on your neck, sloppily thrusting into your poor pussy. “You’re my girl now.” He’s slamming your hips back down on his cock, fucking you deeply, making sure every inch of him is coated in your juices. He quickly pulls out, jerking his cock before thick globs of cum coat your skin before he’s inserting himself back inside your dripping entrance. Neither of you noticing the five missed calls and fifteen unread texts from your ex.

ᯓ★ GOJO

As soon as you called Gojo crying, he basically teleported to your house. When he learned that your boyfriend had cheated on you and you kicked him out, he was the least bit shocked. For the past month you’ve told Gojo that your boyfriend has been acting off, and finally the truth came to light.

“I’m so sorry,” he frowned, rubbing the top of your head as you cried into his chest. It hurt Gojo to see you like this, constantly seeing you get hurt by these shitty guys who didn’t know any better. He had a massive crush on for the longest time and he’s always been afraid to say anything. He’d treat you better, treat you the way you’ve always deserved.

“I just don’t it, Toru! Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” You frowned.

“No, no! It’s not you all! You’re absolutely perfect. He’s a fucking asshole for not seeing that sooner. You’re kind, funny, smart, and beautiful. You’re everyone’s dream girl, y/n.” It may have sounded like he was only trying to be nice, but in reality he was speaking from his heart.

“Awe, Toru, thank you,” you giggled through your tears. Gojo looked at you few seconds, the most sincere expression written on his face.

So how, in only a few minutes, did he make you go from giggling to moaning like bitch in heat?

“Feel better, princess?” He mumbles against your cunt, sucking on your swollen and sensitive clit. “Please tell me you feel better,” he whines.

“Toru—mmph! What’s—ah! Oh my god!” He slides his long, slender fingers into your sopping hole, pumping them in and out, curling them up slightly. Your jaw falls slack at the way his tongue expertly explores your folds, licking up every last drop of your essence. Your hand clings to his fluffy white hair, his hands pushing your legs open each time they threat to close around his head.

“Taste so good, princess. Just like I imagined—mmm,” he moans at your delectable taste, ignoring the way your squirming in his hold and clenching around his fingers as your second orgasm approaches. His captivating eyes flutter open to look at you, watching the way you lose yourself on his tongue. He could tell your boyfriend—ex boyfriend has never pleasured you like this before, let alone made you cum.

“Fuck!” You gasp. “Feels so good—hah, shit! Toruuu!” You cry out, legs quivering when the tip of his tongue runs back and forth over your clit.

“Promise me something, yeah?” He moves his fingers in and out of your sloppy hole slowly, bringing you right on the edge. “Be mine? I’ll treat you so good, princess. Been wanting to for the longest time, god, you’re so fucking perfect. Please?” He presses soft kisses to your thighs that make your breath hitch.

“You’re confessing now?!” You chuckle, trying to catch your breath.

Gojo smiles up at you. “Is that a yes?” He quirks a brow. He presses the pads of his fingers against your g-spot massaging slowly.

“Ah,” you bite down on your lip, “you’re no fair!” You run your fingers through his hair. “It’s a yessssuhh.” You’re barely able to get the word out before he dips his head between your legs again, his wet tongue circling your clit. “Shit, shit, shit, I’m cumming again!” Your head is thrown back as your entire body shakes with pleasure.

“Thank you, princess,” Gojo murmurs.

ᯓ★ NANAMI

Nanami noticed you haven’t been yourself for the past couple of days and he didn’t dare to ask but he had a feeling it had something to do with that obnoxious and egotistical boyfriend of yours. It always had something to do with him no matter what. He didn’t think of it when you asked him if you can come over and watch a movie, but not even five minutes in the door you start explaining everything. You didn’t cry, just talked and talked about it, venting about the situation. He was glad to be an ear. He’ll always be here to help.

“I’m just so frustrated and I hate feeling this way!” You rolled your eyes.

“Maybe you need to deal with it in other ways rather than venting,” he suggested.

“Like what? Drinking my problems away? I’d rather not.” You shook your head, waving your hand in dismissal.

What didn’t cross your mind was the fact your best friend was talking about having you bent over, fucking you into the mattress. “K-Ken! F-fuck!” Your eyes squeeze shut when he thrusts his hips harder, the tip of his swollen cock pressing into your sweet spot.

His thick fingers squeeze into your plush skin, pulling you back onto his cock. He leans over next to your ear, breath fanning against your skin sweaty skin. “He doesn’t know how to handle a woman like you. Not like I do.” He peppers kisses down your back, a contrast of you screaming his name.

Your walls squeeze around him at his words, your pussy somehow growing wetter than it already was, creating a sloppy and sticky mess where you two met. Your hands grasped the sheets below. “Yes, Ken, handle me, show me you can handle me!” You grit your teeth, looking back at him.

A feral growl escapes his throat, blonde hair clinging to his sweaty forehead. He reaches a hand down, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pushes your head into the mattress, the sound of skin to skin slapping against each other growing constant as he fucks your hard and deep with such a grueling pace. “I can handle you, sweetheart,” he chuckles deeply. “Better than your boyfriend.” He licks his lips.

“Mmm—ah, yes!” You laugh with a smile. “Ex.” You’re quick to correct.

“Who gives a fuck what he is—hah, shit, sweetheart, gripping me so damn tight.” He’s so focused on the way your ass ripples against his hips, addicted to how warm and wet your cunt is. It was hypnotizing. Your jaw hung open, eyes rolled back, drool spilling from the corner of your mouth and onto the bed below you. Each rut of his hips had you going stupid, barely able to think.

Successfully, you can say that his method of dealing with your problems has worked better than you could’ve imagined. “Feel so good inside me! Don’t stop!” You cry out, voice wavering. The stretch of his cock against your gummy walls had you craving more. So much more to the point you wanted to feel all of him. “Cum in me.” You’re bitting down your lip so hard you’re afraid you’ll draw blood.

Those three words have Nanami’s eyes wide in excitement. His body runs hot, your words making the blood rush straight to his pulsating cock. “D-don’t say stuff—mmph—like that,” he grunts.

“I thought you could handle me?” You’re smirking, playing with fire. His rough hands grip onto your hips harder, hard enough to leave bruises. Each thrust of his ragged hips shoots bolts of pleasure through your core.

His brows furrow in concentration, grunts and growls mixing in with your moans as his abs tense up, body jolting forward as his sloppily thrusts into your greedy hole. “I can handle you better than anyone else and you know it!” His hand swats your ass, a loud smack cracking in the air. “Nngh, shit!” Before he knows it, his tip kisses your cervix, pulling you back on his cock as his hot cum paints your walls.

ᯓ★ GETO

When you told Geto about your boyfriend cheating on you, he knew you’d needed to be comforted despite what you said. So he planned a day just for you to do your favorite things in attempts to take your mind off of things, but he could see that you were still thinking about it deep down. The both of you sat in the car, watching over the city lights while music quietly played on the radio. The orange sunset casted a hue over the world, shining brightly.

“I’m sorry I just can’t get it out of my head.” You pout, fiddling with your fingers. “I appreciate you doing this, Suguru.”

“Of course, y/n. It’s the least I could do.” He gave a half smile, caressing your back.

“It just keeps replaying over and over in my head,” you shut your eyes, “I hate it. Nothing takes my mind off of it no matter what!” You ran your hand over your face, slouching in the passenger seat.

“Well, there’s something we haven’t tried yet.” Geto raised a brow, shrugging his shoulders.

“What?” You asked, confused.

Minutes later your knees are to your chest, the sheer force of his hips rocking your body into the seat of the car. Strands from his messy bun cling to his forehead, sweat dripping between the divots of his abs. His calloused hand presses down on your lower abdomen, the pad of his thumb reaching down to rub your neglected clit. “Sugu!” You cry out, tears pricking the corner of your eyes.

The car shakes with his feral and animalistic thrusts, the curve of his cock finding your sweet spot, knocking the breath out of you. You’re panting and gasping, clawing at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. “Come on, baby, you can do it.” His lips quirk up into a smirk, his hand reaching out, slipping his fingers into your mouth to suck on. “Let it all go for me.” He moves at a rapid pace, your eyes rolling back and your body going limp, hands falling to your sides.

He removes his fingers from your mouth, his hands gliding down to your throat, fingers ghosting over your skin before he carefully wraps his hand around it, gripping it firmly. “I’ll make you forget everything about him. You want that, don’t you? Fill that pretty little head of yours with nothing else but me.” His sultry words send shivers down your spine. A devilish chuckle escapes from him when he feels you flutter around his throbbing length. “Nnngh,” he plants a wet kiss on your jaw, “cum for me.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m cumming!” You scream, eyes widening at the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. “Yes, yes!” You squeal, legs shaking as he continues to rub your clit, dragging every last bit of your orgasm out of you.

His heavy balls slap against your ass at a rough pace, threatening to spill his seed inside of you. “Want to mark you, show that asshole who you’ve always belonged to!” Sinful eyes stare back at you.

Fat tears roll down your cheeks. “I’m yours! I’m y-yours! Ahh!” He puts more pressure on your clit, your body jolting, squirming beneath him.

“Hah, fuck, baby!” He moans, jaw falling open as he tosses his head back. He clenches his jaw, grunting as he keeps the same fervent tempo. He watches the way your filthy pussy clings to him so tightly, your juices forming a ring at the base of his cock, creating a sticky, slimy mess. His thrusts grow hasty, hungry for his orgasm, itching to see you coated in his cum.

He bullies his cock into your cunt, snarling and moaning at how rapidly his orgasm was nearing. He pulled out of you with a drawn out moan and instinctively your soft hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him until you felt warm cum drip onto your stomach.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR THE ROMANCE OF BANTER, PLAYFUL SARCASM, AND USING JOKES TO HIDE HOW YOU REALLY FEEL ABOUT THEM *  assorted dialogue, some of which have some implied sarcasm built in (so just feel free to specify with "/s" at the end of each line), adjust as necessary

admit it. you're in love with me.

if only i had someone to go out with...

a date would be really nice right about now.

i might reconsider if you bring me flowers.

were you being serious back there?

did you just try to impress me?

was that another joke, or were you telling the truth?

we agreed that if no one asked us, we'd go together.

keep telling yourself that!

here it comes! the big love confession i've been waiting for!

you've been in love with me since the day we met.

you visited me in my dreams last night.

i know you're in love with me. you just won't say it outloud.

we can't hide this forever.

don't make me beg.

if you weren't so cute, you'd be annoying.

you're not very good at hiding how you feel.

you've been staring at me for a long time now.

is that what you really think of me?

you have feelings for me. admit it.

so what if i've been lying this whole time? for good reason!

you don't make this whole love thing any easier.

you make life difficult.

you're a piece of work.

is that how you really feel?

you're lucky you're so cute.

you're not really going out with them, are you?

i thought we... nevermind.

consider me impressed.

am i annoying you right now?

you didn't like that comment, huh.

i was only kidding!

you wish we were kissing right now.

oh, you'd just love to hear me beg.

i love our little back and forth.

sooner or later we'll have to come clean about how we feel.

i'm not good at hiding my emotions.

when were you going to tell me you were in love with me?

i actually hate your guts.

keep talking like that and you'll see how i really feel.

can your head get any bigger?

was that a joke?

were you just playing with me?

you didn't actually mean that, right?

hang on. you didn't just say that.

that was a joke, right?

this is just how we are when we're together.

i tease you, you tease me.

you and i have always been like this.

if i'm not annoying you, what's the point?

i'm allergic to tickling.

they said we'd make a cute couple. can you believe that?

are you always this annoying?

if i kiss you, will you turn into a prince? yes, i'm implying you're a frog.

you're lucky i love you so much.

you take that back!

that was uncalled for!

this means war!

this calls for a duel!

i'm challenging you to an arm wrestle.

last one there is a rotten egg!

i'm not racing you!

stop looking at me like that.

you stare at me a lot.

i know, i know. i'm irresistable.

something on my face?

a little bird told me you're in love with me.

prove me wrong.

[radiant-reid]

24 Hours

request: a blurb where he actually gets mad at JJ when she confesses to love him but doesn't really say anything at the moment. But then when he introduces reader to the team as his girlfriend, JJ is being kinda rude to her. She tries to tell him she doesn't like her, that she's not good for him. And spencer gets mad and protective👀 maybe he even throws a "i'm going to marry her, whether you like it or not".

a/n: my return piece !!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Fluff)

Word Count: 2.2k

Spencer sees red when he walks out of the jewelry store after shooting the unsub.

JJ is the first girl he has ever asked out, someone he pined over for years after her subtle rejection at the Redskins game. He understood her reasoning. It would have been impractical for them to add relationship highs and lows to everything the BAU has been through over fourteen years, and that's if they stayed together. If they hadn't, things would have been even more complicated.

Also she just generally didn't like him that way. Or so he thought.

It didn't mean she wasn't his ideal for many years. His first love, who had so many traits he didn't have that he desperately wanted.

His confirmation he would be unlucky in love came after that with Maeve, who he once again thought could be the one for him. And then he realized that maybe the person for him had been taken away from him.

Then he met Y/n, and it all seemed worth it. All those terrible nights of crying and feeling like he would forever be alone, all the times he was the only single one on the team, knowing everyone was going home to someone they loved unconditionally and relied on for support.

She's the sun and the moon, and he fell in love so fast he couldn't stop it. Luckily, she did too.

Until JJ fucked it up.

The truth she had to tell to get them out alive dropped an atomic bomb on his newly formed life plans.

Spencer doesn't speak to her that night as they finish their recounts and reports. She leaves it out, though, he discovers, opting to write the secret about her miscarriage instead of confessing her love for her best friend and the godfather of her kids.

It messes with his head the whole way home. He can't sleep on the jet, even if he wanted to as he tried to work out what he was feeling.

All JJ does is send him pleading looks, and all he does is get angry because how dare she do this now? After she had fifteen years of them working together, all those chances to tell him how she felt.

He would have married and had a family with her, the family he always wanted. It's always stayed in the back of his head for so long, and just as he sees someone else in that role in his dreams, she drudges all of it back up.

It's such a long flight, and he taps his foot the whole way while staring out the window, not even able to read.

He goes to Y/n's. He's not sure what he's going to say, how much of it he's going to tell her, but he needs to see her to cool off the fury boiling out of him.

"Hey, handsome." She calls out when he walks in the door as cheerful as ever.

He feels a pit of guilt sink into his stomach because he can't tell her without ruining everything they delicately have put together. Maybe it's wrong to lie by omission, but his brain keeps coming back to fault. And it's JJ's fault. She's the one who's jeopardizing everything.

"Hi, gorgeous." He replies, walking into the living room to find her laying on the couch, book in her hands and her head on the armrest. He's reminded how accurate the petname he calls her by is when he's taken off guard by her breathless beauty. "How are you liking it?" He asks.

"It's good." She answers, putting the book down. "But that's because it's very you."

She gets up, meeting him behind the couch to cup his jaw, stroking over his skin and staring into his eyes for a moment before kissing him properly.

He relaxes into it, the tension in his shoulders easing and his brain slowing down for a moment. It's heavenly, as always, and it's what being loved is meant to feel like.

"How was your case?" She asks when she pulls back, still not daring to move too far away from him.

He tenses instantly at that, totally readable behavior, but he's got to perfect excuse to play it off. "It was rough." He holds out his bandaged hand that he's been avoiding showing her. "I got hurt."

"Shit." She straightens up, noticing how big it looked. "What happened?"

"Cut it on glass." He answers, not going as far as to say where he was when it occurred. "I'm fine, though. Promise."

She nods, reassured. "We've got to be up in, like, six hours, you know?" She reminds him of the time.

With the amount of coffee and adrenaline in his system, he barely registered it was already past 2 in the morning. Usually, they would have stayed in LA for the night, but being home in time for Rossi's wedding trumped a good night of sleep for everyone.

"Can I sleep here?" He wonders, awkwardly looking down at his feet.

"Duh. I'm not going to kick you out and make you come pick me up so we can go tomorrow morning." She jokes. "Picked up your suit, too. You're going to look very handsome."

Spencer grins because she seriously can't get more perfect. She still feels so unattainable, but he'd do anything to make sure he doesn't lose her.

He really should tell her, but he can't. Not right now.

Y/n snaps him out of it. "Bedtime now?"

"Please." He agrees gratefully, keeping his arms wrapped around her while they walk to her bedroom.

He keeps her close while they go through the motions of getting ready for bed. Spencer quickly sheds his suit and both of them brush their teeth.

His head is on the pillow for only a few seconds before he's asleep, and she follows soon after.

The alarm going off isn't as much of a problem when Spencer is lying in bed next to her, arm wrapped around her waist. It's one of the things she misses a lot when he's away.

"Hi, beautiful," Spencer whispers, a husky voice as always. He's glad he fell asleep quickly, not having wanted to sit up thinking about the stupid things JJ has said. He just couldn't understand why it was coming up now. Sleep provided absolutely no clarity.

She grins at him. "Hi."

"Are you ready for today?" He asks softly.

"A little nervous," Y/n admits. The BAU is his family after all. His mom is there but the BAU has been where he's spent most of his life for the last 15 years.

"They'll love you." Because I love you. Spencer assures her.

She smiles softly, feeling a little better. "Let's get up then."

Spencer agrees, not before planting a few kisses on her lips and hugging her tightly.

They get ready side by side, feeling a great sense of domesticity. She's never gotten close to someone as quickly as she has with Spencer. Somehow, it's not scary that it's happened this way.

"Wow, you're very gorgeous," Spencer tells her as she touches up the final strand of her hair, adding enough hairspray that it won't fall out. He stands in the doorway of the bathroom, admiring her. "Wow."

"Thank you." Y/n spins around to look at him in his deep maroon suit. It matches her dress color which she agrees looks very nice on her. "And you're very handsome."

"Ready? The car is coming soon." He says.

She nods, fixing her bracelet. "Let's do it."

There are still some nerves as the car takes them to the venue. Spencer does a good job of assuring her it'll be okay, his hand like a magnet to her thigh. He seems slightly off like there's something out of place, but she shrugs it off. She hopes he's being cute and afraid his friends still say something embarrassing.

The venue and interior are exquisite as they make their way in. She takes a deep breath before they come across the man of the day, welcoming everyone at the entrance. She has no doubt that the value of the artwork in this room totals her apartment and everything in it.

"Spencer." Rossi, supposably, greets him in a tight hug.

"This is my girlfriend, Y/n." Spencer introduces them.

As she expects, and as she was warned about by Spencer, Rossi pulls her in for a hug, immediately calming her nerves with his warm greeting. "It's so nice to meet you. This one won't stop talking about you." Rossi jokes, nodding at an increasingly reddening Spencer.

"It's nice to meet you too." She smiles. "Thank you for inviting me."

Rossi nods. "Of course, it's a pleasure."

And then the rest of the introductions begin. Everyone's so kind, like she expected. She's seen photos and heard stories but everyone seems to have more personality than he conveyed. She's quickly fast friends with Penelope and Tara who do their absolute best to make sure Y/n's feeling comfortable.

It's how she ends up being dragged onto the dance floor after the ceremony. Once the alcohol starts flowing, there's no more anxiousness left and some extroverted spirit has been brought out.

Spencer's not one to dance, but he's one to admire. Only Y/n, though. She looks angelic, despite the old-style dance moves.

He's so wrapped up in watching her that he doesn't register JJ's heels on the ground as she approaches him. It's only when she sits next to him that his head turns around to face her.

He waits for her to speak first. Hopefully, provide some explanation.

"Spencer." She says his name softly, almost like how he used to imagine she'd say it if they were together. Much to his surprise, she doesn't go into any detail about the bomb she'd dropped less than 24 hours ago. "I'm worried about you."

He doesn't hide his scoff. "Worried about me?" He repeats.

She goes for another tactic, trying not to get him mad. "You don't think you're rushing into this?"

"Rushing into what, Jennifer?" He spits back, snapping to anger. Using her first name drives the point home, almost unnecessarily when he sounds so angered.

"You know what I mean." She continues. "You've only been talking about her for a few weeks and now she's here."

He can't fathom that she'd suggest he's rushing into a relationship. He's been careful and deliberate, but Y/n's safe, and she's proved it time and time again.

"She's been part of my life for 6 months." Spencer fact-checks her. "And you said I seemed happier since I met her."

JJ stalls, regrouping before trying another angle. "She's just not what I expected. Is she really the type you should be with?"

"What does that mean?" Spencer states, more furious than ever. There's a chance he will fully snap at her and he wouldn't be sorry.

"I feel like you should be with someone extroverted." She suggests. "You know, someone to get you out of your shell."

Spencer needs a deep breath. "You're not being a good friend right now." He tells her much more calmly. There's not one thing he doesn't love about Y/n, whether she's more on the extroverted or introverted side."I'm going to marry her, whether you like it or not." It's not even what he expected to come out of his mouth.

"Spence-" JJ tries again to reason with him.

"No, don't you dare," Spencer says firmly. "You flew back and forth from New Orleans so many times to see Will, without telling us once and we were all accepting of your relationship. If you don't like my relationship, I don't care. But it's not too soon for me to know. We can talk about what you told me later, but for now, I'm going to dance with my girlfriend." Without another word, he gets up and walks off, leaving her a little gobsmacked.

Y/n frowns at him as he approaches the dance floor. "Are you okay?" She checks.

"More than okay," Spencer tells her with a soft smile.

"Dance with me then." She says, mirroring her smile and holding out her hand.

"I'd love to." He takes her hand just as a slow song comes on for them to sway together.

JJ gets ignored by him for the rest of the night, something unnoticed by Y/n but purposeful by Spencer. But it's fun. So much fun. And he's sure he wouldn't be having as much fun had Y/n not been there. She truly makes his day.

They're in the car later that night, parked near her apartment, ice cream eaten on the trip home. "I'm in love with you," Spencer admits when her laughter falls off after he tells a joke.

It's not a word they've said before.

Her expression is of pure shock, but joy quickly creeps in. "I'm in love with you too." She tells him, grinning.

And it's an entirely better confession than the one he heard 24 hours ago.

[acidsquirtt]

𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝

Description: Damian Wayne has an unhealthy obsession with you.

Word Count: 1043

Warnings: Non Con, Cumming, P in v, stalking, etc.

Ravens Note: I’m writing this at one in the morning, I’m so tired I actually have no idea what i’m writing. Not Doubled Checked

Damian Wayne Masterlist

There you were again, sitting at the far end of the cafeteria, your nose buried in a book ignoring the chattering of the students and staff around you.

You were always alone, you kept to yourself only speaking to another if they spoke to you first and that rarely happens.

His green eyes slowly trailing over your body capturing this moment of you acting as if your face, your body, your voice, wasn’t already burned in his mind.

He kept on staring not caring if somebody caught him because everybody knew of the dangerous obsession he had for you. Well everyone except you.

You were very oblivious to the boys who were severely injured after they talked to you. Or the teachers who mysteriously disappeared after they disrespected something so trivial.

And they all knew who was the cause behind the chaos. Damian Wayne, the biological son of the richest man in Gotham.

However they had no idea how much more dangerous his obsession ran deep. The assassin wasn’t only watching you at school, he had eyes on her 24/7. Ranging from her home to even the dentist you go to.

And if he wasn’t watching you due to being caught up in his… extra curricular activities then the assassins that his mother so graciously offered were watching you. Because she was the only one how far, how deep this obsession could go.

She had the same obsession for his father, Bruce wayne. Talia Al Ghul's obsession resulted in something that would tie her down to her lover forever.

A child.

For once Damian was glad that he was compared with his mother. They both think similarly when it comes down to things, especially when it comes to the people they love.

And finally school ended, the bell rang dismissing everyone. He ignored the cheerful chatter of the students who were leaving the school and kept his eyes on you.

You weren’t aware of his presence and you walked out the gates of the school and to your home.

You weren’t aware that he took a different path to cut you off. You weren’t aware of the hand that reached out to yours and pulled you in the secluded alley way.

You didn’t know why you were roughly shoved against the wall by your classmates who had a strange look in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine.

“D-Damian” you finally managed to stutter out. However you were not met with a response. Instead he kept staring at you.

You could feel your heart race, your mind filling with different scenarios on why you're here.

Looking around scared and confused you noticed one thing. Everything around you was far enough to be out of reach but close enough to hide the two of you.

It was strange to you, usually alleyways were messy and unorganized however this one was organized, objects were right where they needed to be…. it’s almost as if this was planned.

Looking back you noticed he was no longer staring at you, well no longer staring at your face. He was looking down at your body.

His eyes slowly ranked up and down. You squirmed uncomfortably trying to get away but his grip tightened.

A hand reached out roughly grabbing a hold of your jaw and forcing you to look into his green eyes.

“You have no idea how you make me feel, do you, beloved? I’ve watched you for years…. yet you don’t seem to notice me. you don’t notice how much I love you. Well that changes today, I’m going to give you something to make sure you always remember that,” Damian finally spoke out.

Your heart raced faster, tears filled your eyes as you looked around hoping for someone to stumble across you two, but luck wasn’t on your side.

You opened your mouth to yell for help but instead he shoved a piece of fabric, his tie, to keep you gaged.

Tears started to spill as you can feel one his hands wander all around you, while the other kept your hand bound. They started to move lower and lower until they landed at the ends of your skirt.

As he lifted up your skirt he was met with your pretty baby pink laced panties that had a bow on the middle.

They were your favorite pair, he’d stolen a lot of underwear and he would have taken these if you wouldn’t have noticed they were missing.

His trailed across your clit causing you to flinch. He looked up into your beautiful doe eyes that he came to admire.

“Did you wear these for me, beloved? It’s as if you knew this was going to happen,” he spoke ignoring your whines disagreeing with his statement.

He looked back down and swiftly dropped your panties down to your ankles. removing his hand from you, he unbuttoned his pants and slowly pulled down revealing his impressive length.

More tears started to fall from your eyes as you realized that this was actually going to happen.

You felt one of your legs being lifted up and being wrapped around his waist. You could feel his hand go back to your waist as he slowly entered himself in you.

A breathless groan left his lips as moved back and forth. Going faster and harder every time he pulls back.

“y- Your…. so tight…. so perfect,” he trails off as he keeps on thrusting. He has to stop himself from cumming right then and there.

Damian managed to find the strength to look up and scan your face and moans at the sight of you.

Tears spilling from your eyes, muffled whines and moans spilling from you, and your face was scrunched in what he likes to believe was pleasure.

“I am going to fill you up. I’m going to give you a child, our child, beloved. And we are going to be together forever,” he said, his words filled with nothing but promises.

He slows down, you can feel him throbbing inside you. He leaned forward, his lips pressed against your ear and whispered.

“You will never leave me, your mine forever, beloved.” His hips finally came to a stop as his seeds slowly filled you up.

[mywritersmind]

WALK ME LIKE A RUNWAY - LN4

summary : Lando doesn’t know anything about runways, especially a certain Victorias Secret runway that’s breaking the internet. When he gets the invite, it’s certainly a surprise, but with one old and one new friend by his side, he starts to see the appeal of this whole model thing. He likes it for one reason, and that reason is opening the whole show.

listen up : lando x vsangel!reader 💞✨ a bit long!! will prob be multiple parts if you guys like it!!

word count : 2192

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I don’t know how I got here or why I was invited. But as I sit in my assigned seat as the girl next to me stares at me, I can’t help but think that my invitation was for a reason.

I have a good feeling about tonight, maybe it’s because i’m about to watch pretty girls walk in underwear and wings, or maybe it’s because that girl I mentioned looks like she’s itching to tell me something.

As soon as I look at her, she starts, “You’re Lando Norris.” She's pretty, has a short bob, pale skin, and is examining me closely.

“Yeah…” I nod slowly.

“Sorry. Big fan!” She laughs, “What are you doing here?”

“Good question… I was invited. Actually, my mate Carlos is supposed to-” As if I spoke him into existence, the driver plops down next to me, “Hey!”

He grins and nods at the girl, “I’m Kay! My best friend is in the show!” I like Kay. She’s eyeing Carlos like he’s a piece of meat and it’s hilarious.

“So I don’t really understand… Why this runway is big a deal.” Kay practically scoffs in my face and immediately dives in, giving Carlos and I all the lore. After ten minutes of throwing random facts and stringing the whole story line together, I stop nodding and the lights go out.

“This is exciting.” Carlos nudges me, like he’s some big fan or something. Then again it’s a lingerie company so he’s probably a big supporter. “So your friend, how long has she been a model?”

“Forever!” Kay nods, lowering her voice and talking to Carlos across me, “But this is huge because it’s her first show with Victoria Secret and she’s opening it!”

The music starts and a motorcycle with a girl on it comes up from the stage, she starts singing and everyone is going absolutely crazy for her.

Carlos is basically dancing in his seat next to me and Kay is singing along, clapping her hands together.

I try not to think about awkward interview Carlos and I did on the pink carpet, the woman looked stunned that we were even there.

I focus on the girl singing again, it’s quite fun, I feel like i’m at a concert. The lights go out and the singer and her backups are gone.

Kay hits my arm excitedly, pointing to the stage. That’s when I realize the stage is lifting someone up.

The first thing I see are the wings, pink, sparkly and huge. But then I see her.

Fuck being model pretty, this girl looks like a legitimate angel. She’s got long legs, an insane body that’s being accentuated by the white lace that’s practically dripping off her. She's got long wavy hair that is streaked with highlights, and as soon as she starts walking I understand it.

She’s got confidence, fucking power. The room breaks into screams and applause as she grins, god her smile.

She’s elegant, beautiful, and breaks her model smize as she turns in my direction. She blows a kiss to Kay and the smile she pulls has me catching my breath.

The wings she’s wearing starts to move, almost growing above her. She stops at the end of the runway, poses, then walks back. People are screaming her name and she winks at them, turning back to face the end of the runway, she gives a tiny wave before women on both sides of her amerge.

Carlos hits me in the chest, “Dude!” He laughs, “You star struck or something?” Kay giggles.

“I- Why does everyone know her if this is her debut?”

“It’s her debut as an angel! Not a model! She’s a complete fan favorite!” Kay claps as the girls continue to walk, they’ve all got lingerie on and look amazing.

I can’t quite seem to shake her face out of my mind. The show goes on, the performances are fun and I can tell who’s the most awaited models because the crowd is quite opinionated.

My favorite is definitely the woman with a sick guitar. Who wouldn’t want to see pretty girls walk while rock music plays?

I may or may not fan-boy over Cher. My mum is a super fan so I make sure to take videos. And as that icon is performing, My eyes catch again.

She’s in full red and I wonder why I've never been to a fashion show before.

Kay catches me staring again, “Yeah- you’re definitely meeting her after this.” I laugh uncomfortably, smiling at the shit eating grin on her face.

“Tyra!” Kay screams next to me, I watch a tall woman with very big hair appear from the floor, the panels behind her open and all the models flood in.

I clap along with everyone else, watching the girls celebrate and smile at one another. Confetti falls on us as Kay spins around.

We stand and clap for them, before they leave and a voice thanks us for watching. I’m in a haze by the time the lights come up, “That was cool!” Carlos grins.

“Hey so because Lando was making goo goo eyes at my best friend-” I side eye her, “You two should come to the after party! Y/n and I are hosting some friends!”

I’d be an idiot to say no.

⋆｡‧˚

They share a studio apartment overlooking the city. Carlos grabs a beer before we start looking around and meeting people.

Carlos is off talking to Kay when I walk into the kitchen, looking for some water. There’s a girl standing on her toes, trying to grab a box of what looks like cereal from a top shelf.

I freeze when I realize it’s her. What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t even talk to a girl? Come on.

I clear my throat and go to tap her shoulder but she starts talking before I can, “No you can’t have sex in my bed, if you’re gonna throw up, do it somewhere that’s not my apartment, and no smoking inside! My landlord will-” she spins around in a little pink dress, looking pissed off.

She clocks the confused look on my face and stops talking, “I’m not looking to have sex in your apartment…” not yet at least. Shit, Lando shut up! “Or throw up. And I don’t smoke.”

She smacks her lips shut before laughing, “Sorry! Like three people have asked me that tonight!” She bites her bottom lip and I realize how close she is.

Now that I'm not twenty feet away from her, I look her up and down quickly. She’s got freckles, is blonder up close, and her half gone makeup fits her perfectly.

She blinks and I realize that I'm just staring at her.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Y/N’S POV

Why is this British man staring at me?

He coughs as I smile slightly, intrigued by this random man in my home, “Well if you’re not gonna ask me about any of those three horrid topics, what do you want?” I put my hand on my hip, watching his very pretty green eyes glance to the cereal I was trying (and failing) to grab.

He reaches up and grabs it with ease. He's not that much taller than me, I'm still short for a model and without my usual heels, he has a few inches up.

I take the box, “Thanks.” I open it immediately, sticking my hand inside the chocolate breakfast.

“I was just looking for water.” He shrugs, not meeting my eyes.

“I got you!” I perk up and rummage around in our fridge, handing him a bottle. I usually don’t give out our personal chilled stash, but I like this guy.

“Thank you.” He takes it, brushing my hand slightly.

“No problem!” I glance over to see Alex Consani practically in a plant, “Alex! Please don’t hurt Kay’s children!” I stomp away and get stampeded with conversations and questions.

I laugh, “You’ve told me like a million times! But thank you!” Kay knows it’s been my dream to walk for Victoria's Secret since I was little and didn’t even wear a bra.

She squeals, “Oh I gotta have you meet my new friends!” She drags me to the corner where some people are standing, “Carlos! This is my best friend ever, Y/n! Y/n this is Carlos! He’s super cool!” She leans in to whisper, “and super hot.”

I choke on a laugh, shaking the guys hand, “Nice to meet you!”

“Pleasure! Kay’s been talking you up since the show.” He is hot. He’s got a spanish accent and dark hair, exactly Kay’s type.

“Oh you were at the show?” I say, not realizing he was there with Kay.

“Yeah! Me and-” he looks around, “Norris?” He turns and grabs a guy by his collared leather jacket, “Lando!” He spins him around and I realize it’s the guy who I gave water to.

Kay nods excitedly, “Lando and Carlos were totally cheering you on! Especially Lando.” She tries to whisper the last part but fails.

I don’t miss the look that settles over Lando’s face. Lando, hmm. Interesting name. “Hey.” He nods, sipping his water as I smile.

“Hi! I’m Y/n.” I eye his curls, I like his hair a lot already.

“Anyway- They've only been to New York like two times! We’re showing them around this week!” I try to seem interested but I can’t really focus on Kay when Lando is giving me all his attention. “Carlos, I love this song!” She grabs him by the hand and they’re gone in a second.

Lando and I glance at them, then each other, then laugh, “She’s got a lot of energy.”

“It’s the ADHD.” I sigh, standing next to him and looking around my apartment, “So… you liked the show? You don’t seem like the type.”

“I don’t seem like the type to enjoy pretty girls walking in lingerie while a concert is going on?” He raises a brow and I roll my eyes.

“Typical!”

He reaches a hand out, “Hey hey- I’m kidding! I did enjoy you walking, though.” It’s my turn to raise a brow now. “Kay said it was a big thing- opening the show.”

I nod happily, “Huge! Like made my career completely worth everything I've been through and sealed it for me that i’ve made it…” I trail off, realizing I'm telling this to a complete stranger, “Sorry you probably don’t care.”

He frowns, “Of course I do. I get it.” He shrugs and for some reason, I completely believe him.

I tilt my head, “Do you wanna go outside?”

My words land us outside on my balcony, I'm wrapped in a blanket with a beer in my hand. Lando clinks our glasses and looks out at the view, “So what do you do?” I sip my beer.

He sighs, leans his head back on the glass, “I’m a racing driver.”

This takes me aback severely, “What.” I say it so bluntly that he laughs.

“I drive in Formula 1.” My jaw literally drops.

“That’s sick! You win yet?” He looks young, probably a year or two older than me.

The grin he gives me makes me feel nauseous in a weirdly good way, “Yeah. Kinda my ‘I made it’ Moment, too.”

It’s easy to talk to Lando. There’s something about him that makes me comfortable even though we’ve just met. That’s dangerous, especially for me.

He tells me that he lives in Monaco (of course he has to live far), and that he travels most of the time. This is good, I tell myself. I feel like this is going somewhere and it’s perfect if he just leaves after tonight!

I feel this way because Lando’s eyes keep flicking down to my lips.

I explain how I moved from California to New York after modeling for a bit in LA, “I’m Twenty Two.” I shrug, singing the song a big.

“Shit.” He brings the bottle to his lips again as I scoff.

“Right…What are you? Twenty six?”

He almost chokes on the drink, “Twenty six!? Tell me you’re lying!”

I laugh at his reaction, “No! Tell me how old you are!”

He shakes his head, a curl falling onto his forehead, “I’m Twenty four, you muppet.” I slap my hand over my mouth to quiet my laughter.

“Muppet!?” I laugh, my head falling back.

“Yeah, you’ve made me feel all old.” He shakes his head.

“I like your accent.” I just say it. I don’t know why I do, well, when I glance at the bottle in my hand I have a guess.

He smiles, his eyes reflecting the city lights, “Thanks, love.”

“Love?” I eye him, “You’ve got that winner attitude, pretty cocky.”

He runs his tongue over his teeth, “Not cocky, just hopeful.” I shake my head, looking away from him and focusing on the night sky. I am so fucked.

[helaintoloki]

Family Dinner

pairing: Five x reader ft the Hargreeves siblings

warnings: the usual Hargreeves siblings chaos

notes: fulfilling a request asking for a shy!reader meeting Five’s siblings for the first time. it was actually very hard squeezing in so many characters into one piece

summary: despite trying his best to avoid it, Five is forced to introduce you to the family

The last thing Five wanted was for you to meet his family. If he could, he’d do everything in his power to keep you away from the chaos and stupidity that was his siblings forever. He didn’t need them overwhelming you with their quarreling or reminding you of how utterly tumultuous his home life was, and he felt an unwavering need to keep you separate from the Umbrella Academy. You were the one thing he didn’t have to share with his siblings, the one thing he had earned on his own without his powers, and the one thing that was normal in his life. He would do anything to keep his life from tainting your innocence by all means.

The discovery of your existence by his family had been completely accidental. When visiting his new apartment for the first time, Allison and Klaus had stumbled upon a framed photograph that Five had forgotten to stow away before their arrival. In the frame was a beautiful girl with kind features and a gentle smile, her arms lovingly draped around Five’s neck as he held her to his side and forced a lopsided grin for the camera. They knew Five had always hated photos, but it seemed here that he was willing to set aside his disdain for being photographed to please this mystery girl.

“What are you two looking at?” Five demanded after stumbling upon them staring down at the frame. Eyes widening when he realizes just exactly what the two are looking at, he quickly snatches the photo from Klaus’s grasp and holds it protectively against his chest. “I can’t believe this, I was gone for two minutes and neither of you could manage to stay out of my things.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you had a girlfriend?” Klaus asks, voice laced with mock offense as he clutches at his chest to mimic being wounded.

“The details of my personal life are none of your concern,” Five grits through clenched teeth, his tone dripping in annoyance at their snooping and frustration at being caught red handed. How could he have been so sloppy? Five had always been meticulous about every minute detail and keen at covering his tracks when needed, and yet he had failed to protect the most important secret he held.

“She’s gorgeous,” Allison tells him in hopes of assuaging her agitated brother, “and she looks really sweet. Why would you hide something like this?”

“This may come as a shock to you, Allison, but you guys aren’t exactly great at first impressions,” he explains condescendingly with a tight lipped smile, doing his best to hold back the urge to use more colorful language and insults. “The last thing I need is for you guys to start hashing out old childhood issues in front of her and scare her off.”

“Ouch, okay, noted,” she replies with a displeased frown. “But that’s still no excuse to keep your relationship a secret. I know we’re not always the most reliable bunch, but obviously this girl is important to you, Five, and if that’s the case then she’s important to us, too. Just give us a chance to prove ourselves- bring her to my place Friday for dinner so we can all get introduced.”

Five is silent as he mulls over Allison’s offer, doubt clear on his features as he considers all the possible ways a family dinner with you could go. While there are a million ways for it to go wrong, he’s able to acknowledge the plausibility of it being a success. As much as he hated to admit it, his sister did have a point. They weren’t always completely unreliable, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think spending time with his siblings could actually be pleasant at times. And it’s not like you haven’t been questioning him already about his family and the details of his childhood. Perhaps it was time to finally bite the bullet.

“You get one chance,” Five finally relents in a firm tone, pointing his finger at them both in warning. “Do not screw this up.”

“How exciting!” Klaus gasps with an enthusiastic clap of his hands. “Oh, I have the perfect dish for this occasion.”

As Allison and Klaus immediately begin to discuss the details of Friday’s dinner, Five can only force himself to quell his panic as best as possible and hope that you’re able to stand his family.

~~~

You fidget nervously with the pendant of your necklace as Five swiftly parks the car in front of Allison’s home. It’s beautiful, and by the looks of the warm lights that glow through the window it seems the festivities have begun. Despite your boyfriend having already turned off the car, you make no attempt to move, prompting Five to reach over and gently take hold of your hand in his.

“Don’t worry,” he assures you in the softest voice he can manage. “These idiots are more worried about impressing you than you are about impressing them.”

“They’re not idiots, they’re your siblings,” you reprimand him gently before finally mustering up the courage to step foot out of the car. “And despite how much you act like they annoy you I know you really care about them. I just want it to go well is all.”

Five can’t really argue with that- sometimes he hates how easily you’re able to read him. It’s a feat not many can accomplish, and yet you managed to do so in record time. It’s also just another thing he adores about you; you see him like no one has before, and your gentle nature and levelheadedness perfectly balance out his tense and combative personality. You’re good for him, and he hopes his siblings see the good in you too.

The door swings open before you can press the doorbell and immediately you find yourself being pulled into the tightest hug of your life. A gasp of surprise leaves you at the sudden intrusion, and it takes everything in Five to resist the urge to immediately pry his sister off of you. He stares daggers at her innocent smile behind your back, but she merely waves him off before pulling away to look at you.

“It is so good to finally meet you!” She exclaims cheerfully, excitement clear in her tone. “I’m Allison. Come in, come in.”

You aren’t able to get in a word edge-wise as the woman practically drags you into her home and begins to show you around. A pleasant smelling aroma fills the house from the food that cooks in the kitchen, and animated chatter drifts throughout the hallways as the siblings gather and catch up on each other’s lives.

“Please make yourself at home and let me know if you need anything at all.”

“Thank you, a-and thank you for having me,” you offer with a meek smile, your hands nervously wringing together in front of you. “I’ve heard so much about you all and it’s finally nice to put faces to the names. I’m y/n.”

“Well then, welcome to the family y/n,” Allison notes with a wink before disappearing into the kitchen. You almost jump in surprise when you feel Five’s hand rest against your lower back as he leads you into the living room to meet the rest of his siblings.

“Ready to enter the lion’s den?” He whispers under his breath, and for a moment you genuinely can’t decipher whether or not he’s joking.

Three men and a woman sit on the couch animatedly discussing the contents of the television show playing on the screen before turning silent at your arrival. The sudden attention makes you nervous, your throat drying up as you harshly swallow down your anxiety.

“Luther, Diego, Lila, I’d like to introduce you to my… girlfriend,” Five utters after clearing his throat, obviously not familiar with the process of introducing a partner to family. He was still fairly new at this relationship stuff and still struggled at times with opening up. If he didn’t care about you so much he probably wouldn’t even bother, so you appreciate his efforts. “Y/n, these are my brothers and my sister-in-law.”

“Girlfriend, huh? This is certainly an upgrade from the last one,” Diego teases with a wry chuckle.

“Wasn’t the last one a mannequin?” Lila prompts with a raised brow much to Five’s dismay.

“Shut it,” he warns through clenched teeth, heat crawling up his neck at the mention of Delores. Leave it to those two to bring up his past at the worst time.

“A mannequin?” You repeat unsurely, your features contorted in confusion. Five’s eyes widen in panic, but Luther is quick to change the subject on Five’s behalf.

“It’s nice to see Five with someone for a change,” he notes with a nervous chuckle in hopes his comment redirects your attention off of the previous topic. “How did you two meet?”

“I work at a coffee shop in town,” you explain with a sheepish smile, and Five visibly relaxes beside you as you start to recount the beginnings of your relationship. A crisis has been avoided thanks to Luther, and for once Five is grateful for his brother’s conversational skills. “I was the only one who could make his coffee exactly the way he liked it, so he became a regular and would stop by every time I was working. We got to talking, one thing led to another, and, well, here I am.”

“Well, I for one think you are much too good for him,” Lila points out to the boy’s annoyance, “but seeing him less uptight and ornery is a pleasant change.”

“Thank you for that lovely observation, Lila,” Five retorts sarcastically with a roll of his eyes before escorting you out of the living room before the woman can embarrass him any further.

“Did you really date a mannequin?” You whisper curiously only for Five to immediately redden at your question.

“Let’s not hash out my dating history just right this second,” he instructs you before entering the dining room where a man has just finished setting down a heavy centerpiece on the table while another watches.

“Hmm, a little more to the left,” the one with curly hair and heavy eyeliner instructs while scrutinizing its placement. His eyes glance over the table before landing on you and Five in the doorway, and he immediately gasps before rushing over to greet you. “You must be y/n! Oh, it is so lovely to meet you. I’m Klaus, Five’s favorite brother, of course.”

“I don’t ever recall saying that,” Five points out with a raised brow and amused smile. Klaus simply rolls his eyes and waves his brother off with a tsk.

“You don’t have to, I can see it in your face,” he dismisses before returning his attention to you. “And that handsome man over there is our sweet brother Viktor.”

“Hey,” Viktor offers with a timid smile and small wave. “Nice to see you, welcome to family dinner.”

“Thank you,” you reply gratefully, “it’s nice to finally meet you all.”

“Well, not all of us. A certain someone thinks he’s too good for family dinner,” Klaus huffs in annoyance before turning his attention back to the centerpiece. “Does that look centered to you?”

“It looks perfect. I love the arrangement you’ve made,” you compliment much to Klaus’s delight.

“Finally someone with taste!” He gasps before draping an arm around you much to Five’s dismay and guiding you back to the kitchen. “Come, come little one, you can help me pick which napkins to use.”

Watching your figures disappear into the hallway, Viktor glances at Five before stating, “I don’t think you’ll be getting her back for a while.”

“Trust me, I’m aware,” the boy sighs in displeasure before heading towards Allison’s liquor cabinet for a drink.

~~~

Much to Five’s surprise, dinner goes off without a hitch. The food is lovely, the conversation is pleasant, and despite your usually shy demeanor you were able to open up rather quickly to his siblings. It was obvious the family took a great liking to you, and his original worries about them scaring you off had been proven irrational and untrue.

From his seat on the couch Five watches as you animatedly converse with Luther and Klaus about a new bakery that just opened up in town, your smile never once leaving your face and their interest in your words never once dwindling. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you talk this much, and the sight brings a comfortable warmth to his chest at seeing you happy.

“See? This wasn’t so bad, was it?” Allison goads with a pleased smile. “Everyone had a nice time and y/n fits right in.”

“As much as I hate to say it, I’m sorry for doubting you,” Five relents with a soft smile. “This was nice.”

“And we like y/n, so don’t mess this up,” Lila warns him with a facetious shove to his shoulder. Annoyed by her words, Five rolls his eyes and shrugs away from her touch before refocusing his gaze on you. Your eyes meet for a brief second as you glance out into the living room, and you flash him a quick smile before looking back to Klaus who enthusiastically grabs hold of your hands and begins to demand a trip to the bakery with you while Luther attempts to insert himself into the plan. Despite how annoying his family can be at times, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t bring a smile to see his face to see them all get along with the girl he loves.

“Trust me,” he utters carefully, his voice so uncharacteristically tender it takes the two women by surprise, “I’ll do anything to keep her around for as long as I live.”

[shosweet]

𐙚 older boyfriend!keigo picks you up after your afternoon college classes, casual clothing because he specifically told the commission he’s “off duty to pick up his darlin’ girl.”

he then picks up a hoodie and sunglasses on the way because you told him he’d cause a ruckus, fangirls and the press lining up to see him (as if his wings won’t give him away immediately).

he meets you in a small, low-populated area of campus, watching you from above as you look around for him and check your phone for any updates. once you find him, you smile and wave, keigo landing “gracefully” before you.

he gives you the biggest bear hug, wings fluttering as you tiptoe to wrap your arms around his neck.

“miss me, lovey? how was school, hm?” he asks, reaching for your bag slung loose on your shoulder. throwing it over his own, he sweetly kisses your cheeks, pestering you with more questions.

𐙚 older boyfriend!keigo who drives you around to all your favorite places. he buys you everything you want, even the ones you slightly glance at through the display window. he couldn’t care less that you love to splurge, in fact, he indulges it happily (and he’s probably worse himself).

his favorite thing to buy you though, however, are sweet treats. sitting down in a small cafe (after renting it out for just the two of you), you share a small crepe, soft wrapping and warm nutella filling with fresh strawberries and bananas enriching the sweet flavor. it’s honestly a race between who can eat more — both of you have forever-unsatisfied sweet tooths.

“i’m gonna use the bathroom real quick, don’t eat it all,” he says, placing a quick peck on your lips before dashing off. when he’s back, he’s betrayed to see the crepe gone, only a sliver left behind. he looks at the piece, your innocent little smile, and back at the piece.

“i thought i told you to save some,” he sulks, wings deflating as he pulls his chair back and slouches.

“i did! right there,” you smile, pointing to the sad little piece with some whipped cream in the corner of your mouth, cheeks full and content.

“yer tryna starve me, aren’t you,” he cries.

“you could’ve ordered two, y’know,” you giggle.

“that’s actually so smart! thank you baby, yer a genius,” he exclaims, kissing your forehead before standing up to order another (you end up eating most of the second and he orders a third to-go, planning to hide it from you in his fridge).

𐙚 older boyfriend!keigo, who loves eating meals with you anywhere. five-star michelin, fast food, take out, he absolutely adores anything.

although, one of his favorites would be at fancy restaurants. he loves seeing you get all dolled up with everything he’s spoiled you with, loves seeing your face light up at the extravagant display of the restaurant you go to. however, looking at the menu, you worry a bit.

“keigo, ‘s too expensive here…” you mumble, taking his hand across the table with brows furrowed. he brings your hand to his lips, kissing your fingers lightly.

“don’t worry about it, sweets. order anything y’like,” he replies with a sincere smile.

his #1 favorite though? cooking at home with you.

he cooks what he knows, learns new recipes, and makes all your favorite dishes without you having to ask. sitting at the island table, you watch as your head is propped on your hands, eyes never leaving his figure.

“need something?” he smirks, noticing his little one-woman audience. it’s especially bad if he wears a compression shirt with those sweats he knows drive you insane, and extremely worse when you’re ovulating.

“yer staring at me like yer gonna eat me alive,” he chuckles, placing a pan on the stove as he grabs more things from the cabinet, focus strictly on the food.

“kiss, please?” you ask, eyes wide and waiting. he only laughs, setting everything down and turning down the stove.

“tryna burn down the house now, are ya?” he jokes, walking over to you. “no matter, i have another,” he mutters before cupping your jaw. he kisses you deeply, almost as if he’s missed their touch even just a couple minutes away from them.

his hands stay on your jaw, one of yours tangling in his messy hair as the other strokes his wing. he gives a broken chuckle, pulling away.

“yer dangerous, love,” he says in a low voice. “let’s finish dinner first, yeah? after that, ‘m all yours.”

𐙚 older boyfriend!keigo who treats you like you’re his world. you’re curled up in bed, too weak and in pain to get up. keigo only gives you the space you need, checking in every now and then.

“refill your tea?” “tuck you in again?” “anything you wanna eat?” “need help going to the bathroom?”

he makes sure you’re attended to without you needing to lift a finger. even on days when he’s away, or you’re too irritable to deal with anybody, he sends a couple feathers your way. one sneaks in through the space under the door, lightly tickling your cheek.

“hi, keigo,” you groan. “i’m okay, haven’t eaten anything yet, can’t stomach anything down,” you mumble. keigo listens as he’s walking to a nearby cafe, looking for something small to satisfy you.

the feather in your bed floats away to your window, squeezing under it and pushing it open. soon after, a couple more feathers come in carrying small things keigo’s bought for you — a pastry, water, candy, a heat pack, and (ironically enough) a small plushie of him. there’s no rush, no scramble, no confusion — everything is calm and collected because keigo knows by heart how to take care of you.

the feathers place each item gently on the nightstand beside you. one more floats in with a tiny note, scribbled in keigo’s handwriting.

“rest up, love. i’ll be back again soon. i’ll keep this feather with you, let me know if you need anything. i love you! — keigo :)”

you giggle and place the note on your nightstand. the feather that brought it tickled the tip of your nose, just as keigo would kiss it before he leaves, and lays just above your head on the pillow.

“thank you, keigo,” you mumble before drifting off to sleep with a full heart. “love you, too.”

on your rooftop, he kisses the golden pendant resting on his chest, part of a matching set he’d gotten you for your anniversary.

“i love you more.” and older boyfriend!keigo always means it.

longer drabble because i need him

[gojosluut]

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི Satoru Gojo HCs 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི (some suggestive, but other than that it’s purely fluff)

Satoru Gojo! sends you his half eaten kikufuku and proceeds to follow it up by texting you how it reminds him of you after he fills you up. (weirdo..)

Satoru Gojo! never takes things seriously, besides if you’re hurt or need comforting then otherwise he’s never serious.

Satoru Gojo! wears those boxers with your face printed all over them, and would wear them out in public if he wouldn’t get charged for public indecency.

Satoru Gojo! always picks up your favorite blind box type (Sonny Angels, Smiskis, Labubus, Hirono Echos, etc) any type of trinket you like? oh he’s getting you the whole box and bringing it home to you after a mission.

Satoru Gojo! Loves sucking on your tittes, not even in a sexual way too he’ll just lay his head on your lap and pull down your tank top and start sucking on your sensitive bud. It’s a comfort thing for him to be honest.

Satoru Gojo! Loves women with any type of body mod. Tattoos, piercings, colored hair, etc. He’s down bad for you.

Satoru Gojo! Prioritizes having an actual connection with you other than just wanting sex. Obviously he wants sex but his priorities for a deep connection with you are higher.

Satoru Gojo! Always makes sure that his teasing doesn’t go too far with you, since he doesn’t actually wanna hurt your feelings so he dims it down a bit with you.

Satoru Gojo! Doesn’t care what you wear out in public. He’s the strongest after all, so? why wouldn’t he just pick a fight with the random creep who cat called you.

Satoru Gojo! Hates it when others make jokes or tease you. He doesn’t laugh or even crack a smile, he just stares at the person looking at them like they’re stupid. Because to him his teasing is love and affection, but with others it’s just disrespectful.

Satoru Gojo! has a polaroid picture of you in his wallet where his drivers licenses is supposed to go, but who cares about that when he can have his pretty girl in the slot protected.

Satoru Gojo! Yaps and yaps about Dijimon to you if you don’t know anything about the game nor the anime. He sits you down and just talks forever about it, and you just gotta listen or else he’ll get all pouty (but also who wouldn’t listen to this man yapping about Dijimon?)

Satoru Gojo! is a secret nerd. Outside of the Nerdjo AU, I can see this man being the biggest nerd ever. He’s got the old time mangas of his favorite anime’s.

Satoru Gojo! Grabs your face mid argument to makeout with you and it always leads to makeup sex, with you in a mean missionary position as he grunts and moans between apologies.

Satoru Gojo! Loves when you’re both loud during sex, he doesn’t want you to think he’s not enjoying it so he’s loud as possible because he really is enjoying it. And the same goes for you he doesn’t wanna think you’re not enjoying it, so he always makes sure you are.

Satoru Gojo! Keeps things you make him or gift to him in a little box inside his desk. And whenever he’s doing paperwork during the day or late at night, he always gets the box out and rereads your little love letters to him and looks at the little trinkets you gifted him whenever he misses you.

Satoru Gojo! Fiddles with his wedding band whenever he gets nervous.

Satoru Gojo! Pulls you by any piece of your clothing back to his side when you start to wander off too far from him.

Satoru Gojo! Loves being babied even if he denies it. He just loves when all your attention is solely focused on him and is smothered by your love.

Satoru Gojo! Doesn’t smash the cake into your face on your wedding day. He just lets you do it and once the cake and frosting is smeared all over his face, he just looks at you with a love sick smile watching you have a laughing fit at his cake covered face.

Satoru Gojo! says the most poetic type shit about how much he loves you outta nowhere and you just gotta stare at him like where the fuck did that come from?! But you always return his little lovely poetic confessions after you look at him like he just said he killed your cat.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[getmeoutofhell]

Slashers getting jealous

i hope you enjoy these!! i made them with love and care ;)

Hannibal Lecter:

yeah, whoever made him feel that way is long gone. he’ll take you, tie you down and make you watch him kill that person in a very brutal sick way. he then will go on and tell you a heart filled message, while looking you in the eyes.

“you forced my hand dear.” oh yeah, make sure you enjoy his next meal. he made it special. 🥩

Will Graham:

he will become nonchalant (no joke), he will stop being him for a minute to process his emotions and how to deal with them. he’ll also become a rude bitch. not just to them, but to you as well.

“how would that make you feel?” he may even roll his eyes. soon, that person will come up missing. 🌪️

Billy Loomis:

takes it to a different level even in public. he will try to embarrass that person in-front of everyone. he takes your arm and you guys leave. if you try to talk to him, he’ll ignore you until he’s ready to talk.

“i want you to stay here, with me tonight.” only later to find out that there’s been a ghost face attack…with them being the first victim. 📞

Stu Marcher:

if you think will is gonna be nonchalant, lemme tell you about this guy. not only will he go crazy if someone takes to much of your time, he then will not talk to you for a little bit, which upsets you ofc.

“i think you should just stay away from that guy.” you can imagine what stu will do from there…📞

Micheal Myers:

death. just death. since he’s a lot older than you (probably) he won’t even waste time trying to explain that he’s jealous. he’ll just go and kill them.

you can feel him staring at you under his mask. very creepy. 🔪

Valak:

wow, valak? being jealous? not a change. now, let’s say you were trying to summon another demon. now we’re taking. as i say in all my post he’s very sneaky. which means not only will he banish that demon, he’ll also banish you as well.

have fun in hell with him. forever. 🪞

Art the Clown:

if you expect art to not get jealous you must be mistaken dear. he’s a man child, a big baby. but when he gets mad, he’s mad. he’ll take you and tie you in a chair. then, he peels the victims skin off piece by piece while laughing without a care.

he will later surprise you with a heart …a human heart. 💉

Malthus:

dealing with a demon such as him will not end up good. also considering he’s mostly in the doll then with you. but that doesn’t stop him from seeing you interact with other people for to long.

that doll is everywhere. including that special persons home…🕯️

Ethan Landry:

will pretend everything is okay until it’s just you two alone. “why were you and them so close?” he stares deep into your soul, making you shudder. ethan is a walking mask. on the outside he’s a sweet boy. but on the inside he’s a brutal walking man.

“you stay the fuck away from her!!” as the knife digs deeper in their chest. 📞

Candyman:

he’s more calm actually. he trust you, not them. so as long as it doesn’t go to far, he’s okay with it. now, if it did go to far he’ll step in and take you away from them. he manly watches from afar tho.

“let’s head home.” let’s hope that person isn’t allergic to bees. 🐝

Pennywise (2017):

this clown didn’t understand what was happening at first. why did he feel that way? he had no idea. all he knew was that he didn’t like it, and he knew he had to do something about it. so if that requires him eating that persons chest out then so be it.

“you’re my friend. not theirs.” 🎈

Freddy Krueger:

oh my this man gets jealous so much it’s ridiculous. he’s so insecure about himself so when you find interest in anything other than him for more than 5 minutes he’s all over the place. it’s kinda sad actually.

just know they won’t be waking up ever again. 💭