#It Was Probably Exactly What He Wanted Too

[goldfades]

HOTTEST COUPLE IN THE ROOM ───JB⁹

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2.5k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | requested! -> "Joe x Dallas cowboy cheerleader reader"

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | reader is kinda perceived as bitchy, and not a cookie-cutter dcc. lots of a banter, leads to relationship.

⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | my new fav thing EVER

The bass shakes the floor beneath your heels, the scent of top-shelf liquor and expensive cologne thick in the air. The postgame party is exactly what you expected—too many people, too much noise, and a lingering sense of competition that doesn’t quite fade even after the game’s final whistle. Cowboys and Bengals players mix like oil and water, good-natured jabs tossed between sips of whiskey, the occasional laugh laced with something sharper.

You don’t want to be here.

But when the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders make an appearance, it’s not optional. It’s PR. It’s “team camaraderie.” It’s smiling through gritted teeth while some dude in a suit with more money than personality tells you how impressive it is that you can do a perfect high kick in full glam.

You adjust the hem of your dress, shifting against the leather couch tucked in the VIP section. It’s not that you’re bad at playing the part. You just don’t fit the mold the way you’re supposed to. The other girls—prim, polished, always camera-ready—glide through the room like they were born for this. You, on the other hand, are already toeing the line of “too much.” Too opinionated, too unpredictable, too unwilling to be anything other than exactly who you are.

And yet, you’re still here. Because when you dance, they shut up about the rest.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show,” a voice drawls beside you, cutting through the music.

Your gaze shifts, locking onto the last person you expected to seek you out tonight. Joe Burrow.

His suit jacket is slung over his arm, the sleeves of his crisp white button-down rolled up just enough to give him that effortlessly put-together look. He’s got that half-smirk that’s made him a social media obsession, and yet there’s something else in his expression—curiosity, maybe. Amusement.

You raise a brow. “Didn’t think you knew who I was.”

“Oh, I know who you are.” His eyes flicker, something sharp and knowing in them. “Hard to miss the cheerleader who doesn’t play by the rules.”

You tilt your head, feigning offense. “I play by the rules.”

Joe huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Nah. You don’t. You just make it look like you do.”

And there it is. The first crack in the game, the unspoken understanding settling between you like a drawn line in the sand.

It should be nothing.

But somehow, it doesn’t feel like nothing.

You lean back against the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, the other toying with the rim of the drink you don’t actually want. The ice clinks softly as you swirl it, eyes flicking back to Joe, unimpressed but not entirely disinterested.

“Wow,” you deadpan. “Joe Burrow knows my reputation. I guess I can retire now.”

Joe huffs a quiet laugh, the kind that barely shakes his shoulders. “Just saying, you don’t blend in.”

You lift a brow. “Neither do you.”

His smirk deepens, just a little. “Difference is, I’m supposed to stand out.”

You roll your eyes. “God, you’re worse than I thought.”

Joe blinks, feigning offense. “Worse?”

“Yeah.” You tilt your head, taking him in. “I figured you’d at least let me get a word in before pulling the ‘I’m Joe Burrow’ card.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

The smirk on his face falters just a fraction, like he’s recalculating his approach. He came over here thinking he’d charm you with minimal effort, just like he probably does with every other girl in this room. You can’t blame him. You’re used to guys like him—ones who assume that a few smooth lines and a good jawline will be enough to win you over. It’s exhausting, really.

Joe, to his credit, seems to pick up on it quickly. He shifts his stance, dropping the easy arrogance just a notch, watching you like he’s trying to figure out a new play mid-game.

“So, you don’t like football players,” he guesses.

“I never said that.”

“You don’t seem impressed.”

“I’m just not easily impressed.”

Joe clicks his tongue, shaking his head like he’s been personally challenged. “Tough crowd.”

You let out a short laugh, finally taking a sip of your drink. The warmth spreads through you, smoothing the edges of your already sharp tongue. “Look, I get it. You’re Joe Cool, media darling, golden boy, future Hall of Famer, blah, blah, blah. But none of that tells me who you actually are.”

Joe’s quiet for a beat, like he wasn’t expecting you to cut through the bullshit so quickly. Most people don’t.

He studies you. “You wanna know who I am?”

“I wanna know if you can hold a conversation that doesn’t involve your highlight reel.”

Joe grins, shaking his head like you’re more trouble than he bargained for—but not the kind he wants to walk away from.

“Alright,” he says, leaning in slightly. “Let’s make it fair. Since you’re so uninterested in my career, how about I ask about yours?”

You narrow your eyes. “Go for it.”

He tilts his head. “You always wanted to be a cheerleader?”

You pause for a fraction of a second. It’s not a bad question, but it’s not the usual small talk either. It’s got an edge to it, like he’s actually curious.

“No,” you admit. “I wanted to be an astronaut.”

Joe snorts. “Serious?”

“As a heart attack.” You smirk. “But apparently, NASA frowns upon people who talk back to their instructors.”

Joe laughs now, really laughs, and it does something to his face—makes it lighter, less perfectly put-together. It’s a nice look on him.

“So, you settled for the next most intense program?” he asks.

“Something like that.” You glance around the room, at the Cowboys players, the other cheerleaders, the high-profile guests all schmoozing and clinking glasses. “DCC is its own version of NASA. Just with more hairspray and stricter calorie counts.”

Joe hums, considering that. “And yet, you don’t seem the type to take orders.”

You shrug. “I don’t. But I’m really, really good at what I do.”

His gaze lingers for half a second too long. “Yeah,” he says, low and thoughtful. “I bet you are.”

There’s something about the way he says it that makes your breath catch for just a second—not because you’re flustered, but because it feels like he actually sees you, past the sequins and forced smiles and PR obligations.

You tap your nails against your glass, breaking whatever was starting to settle between you. “Well, congrats,” you say, all light and teasing again. “You managed to hold a conversation without bringing up your own stats.”

Joe grins, lazy and triumphant. “And?”

You take a slow sip, watching him over the rim of your glass. “You’re not completely insufferable.”

Joe laughs, leaning back into the couch. “I’ll take it.”

The first date wasn’t supposed to happen.

At least, not in your mind.

But Joe had this way of slipping through the cracks of your carefully built walls, catching you off guard in a way that wasn’t annoying, but intriguing. So, when he had looked at you across that crowded party and said, “One drink. No football talk,” you had rolled your eyes, but ultimately, you had agreed.

One drink turned into three. A post-midnight drive through downtown. A completely ridiculous bet over who could name more obscure 90s songs (you won, obviously). And then, somehow, a second date.

And that was the real surprise.

Because by then, you figured you had him pegged. Star quarterback, smooth operator, probably used to women falling over themselves to impress him. But the Joe you saw away from the cameras, when it was just the two of you in a dimly lit hole-in-the-wall bar or sprawled out on his couch, eating takeout straight from the boxes, was different. He was easy in a way that felt familiar, like a song you hadn’t heard in years but still knew all the words to.

And he got you.

Most guys would tense up when you made some sarcastic comment, unsure if they should be amused or offended. Joe just smirked and shot one right back, quick and sharp like one of his passes. The banter was effortless, the chemistry undeniable, but it never felt forced.

It felt like you’d known him forever.

Which was dangerous.

Because you weren’t supposed to like him this much.

But a few months flew by before you could think too hard about it.

One minute, you were rolling your eyes at him in a Dallas bar. The next, you were sneaking glances at your phone in the middle of DCC rehearsals, trying not to smile at whatever nonsense he had just texted you.

Then came the flights.

You found yourself booking tickets to Cincinnati more often than you’d ever expected, trading in your Texas sunsets for the sharp chill of Ohio air, showing up in his city like you belonged there. And the crazy part? It never felt inconvenient. You had never been the type to rearrange your schedule for a guy, but with Joe, it was different. He made the effort too—catching flights to see you between games, showing up unannounced just to grab dinner, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

It should’ve been overwhelming, but it wasn’t.

Because nothing about Joe was ever boring.

You’d expected the excitement in the beginning—the flirty back-and-forth, the teasing, the lingering looks that stretched longer than they should. But what you hadn’t expected was the way he made everything feel lighter. How he made you laugh when you were dead on your feet after an exhausting game day. How he somehow always knew when you needed to talk and when you just needed to sit in comfortable silence.

And yeah, the tension was there. Always.

You weren’t blind, and Joe sure as hell wasn’t either. There were moments—when his hand lingered on your lower back a second too long, when you caught him watching you with that unreadable expression, when he pulled you into a hug that felt like it meant something more.

But neither of you pushed it. Not yet.

For now, it was enough to just exist in whatever this was.

And, for the first time in a long time, you weren’t in any rush to define it.

The New York City skyline stretched high above the venue, lights twinkling like they were in on the secret that tonight was something different.

Joe didn’t hide you.

He hadn’t from the start, really, but there was a difference between showing up for each other in private and standing next to him now, his hand resting low on your back, his fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress like he wanted everyone to see exactly where you belonged.

And you?

You looked good enough to ruin a man’s career.

Your dress was the kind that turned heads—sleek, with just enough edge to remind people that you weren’t the typical quarterback’s girlfriend. Joe wasn’t intimidated by it, wasn’t the type to shrink when his girl demanded attention. No, if anything, he was thriving on it. Walking into the party with you on his arm, chin high, like he knew for a fact that you were the hottest couple in the room.

And you were.

It didn’t matter that the place was full of some of the most famous athletes in the league, that models and influencers and A-listers milled around with expensive drinks in hand—no one looked as good as the two of you together.

Joe left you only once, leaning down to murmur, “Gonna get us a drink, don’t go too far.”

You weren’t worried about being left alone. You’d been in these rooms before, could handle yourself just fine.

But apparently, someone didn’t get the memo.

The moment Joe was out of earshot, a presence settled beside you—too close, too confident.

“Damn, haven’t seen you in a minute.”

You already knew you were going to hate him before you even looked.

And sure enough, when you turned, there he was. A Cowboys player, one you’d interacted with just enough to know he was exactly the type you had no patience for. Cocky in a way that wasn’t charming, self-important in a way that made your skin itch.

You barely had time to open your mouth before he bulldozed on.

“So, what, you finally got tired of playing in the kiddie pool and upgraded?” He grinned, not even waiting for you to respond. “Figured it was only a matter of time. The whole ‘untouchable cheerleader’ thing was getting old.”

You smiled. Smirked, really. Because this? This was amusing.

He thought you were flustered. Thought you were scrambling for a way out.

Like you hadn’t been shutting down men like him since the first time you ever put on that DCC uniform.

“Oh, yeah,” you said, voice smooth as silk. “Joe’s an upgrade, alright.” You tilted your head, eyes dragging over him in an exaggerated once-over. “But considering what I was working with before, it really didn’t take much.”

His smile flickered, but he was too stubborn to let it go. “C’mon, you don’t have to pretend with me. I know you, remember? Back when you were just another Dallas girl trying to play hard to get?”

You actually laughed at that.

Not a fake, polite one. A real one. Because this was just sad.

“Wow,” you mused. “I’ve gotta give it to you, you commit to the bit. Most guys would’ve tapped out by now, but you? You’re still going. That’s dedication.”

His jaw tensed just slightly. “I’m just saying, no need to act all high and mighty. We both know you used to—”

“Used to what?”

Your voice was still sweet, still playful, but the underlying steel was there. And when you took a slow sip of your drink, watching him over the rim, it was clear you were letting him dig his own grave.

Before he could figure out how to claw his way out, a shadow loomed beside you.

Joe.

But not in the swooping, Oh no! My girl is in distress! way.

No, he was calm. Casual. Like he had all the time in the world. His presence alone was enough to shift the energy in the conversation, but you didn’t even acknowledge him yet. You wanted to see just how long it would take for the guy in front of you to realize he’d lost.

Turns out, not long.

Joe didn’t say anything, just leaned slightly against the bar, watching with mild interest. But the weight of his presence alone did something to your uninvited guest—made him shift uncomfortably, made his easy confidence crack just a little.

And that? That was satisfying.

“I was just catching up with your girl,” the Cowboy muttered, backtracking so fast you almost wanted to laugh.

Joe didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah?” He glanced at you, finally acknowledging you with a knowing smirk. “You having fun?”

You took another sip, grinning. “Oh, loads.”

The guy beside you tensed. “I was just—”

“Leaving?” you supplied helpfully.

His mouth opened. Closed. Then, without another word, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Joe chuckled, finally handing you the drink he had left to get. “You were having way too much fun with that.”

You shrugged, taking a sip. “Can you blame me?”

He shook his head, draping an arm lazily around your waist, pulling you in just slightly. “Guess not.”

And the night went on.

Just you and Joe. The hottest couple in the room.

[seat-safety-switch]

For many good reasons, the ancient practice of "funny bumper sticker" has fallen away in recent years. And bad reasons, too. In their stead, the "angry bumper sticker" has begun to dominate America's bumper-based highway discourse.

I am certain that a sociologist would be able to tell you exactly when this happened, and why. Maybe it's Milton Friedman's fault. Actually, it probably is, fuck that guy. Still, the temperature needs to be taken down a notch. I don't want kids in school buses to be getting their entire political concepts from the words in inch-high text: "Fuck Government, Taxes Bad." Crude and a rudimentary analysis at best. That's why I had to do something.

You might be surprised to hear this, but the sovereign nation of China has a whole bunch of bumper-sticker-printing factories. It's where all of our bumper-sticker-printing factories went after we closed them during the great decline of bumper stickers. They're still going, servicing the world's demand for bumper stickers in every glorious language. And for about twenty bucks, you can get a stack of bumper stickers half a foot thick mailed to your door. Those bumper stickers can say whatever you want.

Me and the bunch, we like to hang out at the gas station and slap these bumper stickers on the back of passing motorists. Don't worry, they come off easily and don't damage any paint (if they did, I'd have a lot more holes in my bumper.) What they do do, however, is make everyone else on the highway honk and wave, gleeful to be seeing someone taking a brave stand and making their day just that little bit better. Sure, the operator of the car is probably insanely upset when they get home, but until they figure out what happened, they've brought happiness to so many other folks.

Yep. You could call me a modern-day hero, but I'm just a guy with several hundred Don't Honk At Me, I Will Be So Mad I Swear To Fucking God bumper stickers, doing the only thing he knows how.

[celestiamour]

Any ideas on Squid game characters (esp in ho and Dae ho) x hyper feminine! Reader?

ft. kang dae-ho, hwang in-ho, cho sang-woo, se-mi, cho hyun-ju x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ hyper-feminine! reader┊0.6k words

contains: lots of makeup, jewelry, pink, hyper fem stuff, sugar daddy in-ho, mention of transphobia for hyun-ju’s part

➤ author's note: when will i post a real one-shot? good question

━━━ .°˖✧ kang dae-ho ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ one would think that growing up with four older sisters would make him sick of all the pink and makeup, but it’s quite the opposite! he loves watching you put on your make-up, asking billions of questions about each product and your technique while also interjecting with his own surprising amount of information on the topic. he probably has the ability to do an entire face himself, but finds it a little embarrassing. he also insists that you put on little fashion shows of all your outfits of dresses and blouses acting as your biggest hype man to help boost your confidence. his sisters think you’re a doll, literally, and adore you! they love to steal you away for girls’ night and always return you to him with a basket of things they think would suit you.

━━━ .°˖✧ hwang in-ho ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ you know how buying things like makeup, skincare, jewelry, and clothes can get pretty expensive? well, with him, you don’t have to worry your pretty head over any of those prices and can shop to your heart’s content! he just adores how beautiful you are all dressed up and is willing to buy you an entire store of attire that fits your aesthetic if you so please, you just have to show him with a little twirl and give him a kiss on the cheek afterward. he’s usually like a scary old guard dog with his lovers, but you soften his intimidating presence with how girlish you are, but he doesn’t exactly hate it.

━━━ .°˖✧ cho sang-woo ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ acts annoyed when you have to spend extra time getting ready putting on makeup, spending your money on cute trinkets, and continuously asking him what he thinks of your usually pink outfits. he finds it excessive and sometimes inconvenient, but never vocally says anything against it because he doesn’t want to hurt the feelings he pretends he doesn’t care much about. he doesn’t admit it, but he would be gutted if you stopped living your life as a living barbie especially if it was because of him. it grows on him after a while and you’ll eventually see a glint of affection in his eyes when you’re going about your hyper-fem life. 

━━━ .°˖✧ se-mi ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ loves all things girly (especially girls) even if she doesn’t like it on herself. that being said, it’s the perfect contrast to her aesthetic: smudged eyeliner with glittery eyeshadow, dark cargo pants with pink pleated skirts, gauge earrings with dangly diamond ones, combat boots with high heels, the list goes on and on. every time she sees you applying a fresh layer of lip gloss, she feels a pang in his heart like cupid’s arrow and dramatically pout that you’re too pretty for your own good. she probably wouldn’t let you do her makeup in your style, but she does let you tie little bows into her hair and will fight anyone in the thanos squad who may make fun of her for her soft spot towards you (especially nam-gyu).

━━━ .°˖✧ cho hyun-ju ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ is so grateful to have you on her side helping her out because all the things associated with typical womanhood is a tad bit overwhelming to her. she was literally a sergeant in the military, so studying all things beauty is a bit of a learning curve for her, but she quickly gets the hang of it. also, matching outfits!! she’s a little embarrassed at first, especially pre-transition because she’s worried she doesn’t have the right body type, but you help give her the confidence she needs with her hand in yours and give death glares to any potential assholes before they can even open their mouth.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Eye Candy 🍬

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Jason Todd × chubby/curvy!reader

FINALLY. I've been wanting to get this out for forever but shit kinda hit the fan and I'm also sick right now lol

This is pure comedy. So much fun to write!! This is for all my thick girlies <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Jason wants you to meet his brother (Dick) and his best friend (Roy). As if that wasn't enough of a bomb, doubt starts to creep into your mind at the realization that your curves would make you stand out like a sore thumb in the Wayne family. Jason proves you wrong by taking you to a bar and letting Dick and Roy walk right into a trap.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

"You want me to what?"

"Hey, it's not that big of a deal-... yeah, no, it's... it's a big deal." Jason winced, brows furrowing while he flexed his hands around his mug.

Coffee- of course it was, though it was far too late in the day for even more caffeine, or so you'd scolded him once again.

You were staring at him, slack jawed, eyes widened just slightly as a brief huff of disbelief left your lips.

"Jay, you just told me you want me to meet your family. In what world is that not a big deal?!" You exclaimed, your tone a little more screeching than you'd liked.

He sighed, shoulders dropping ever so slightly, his eyes turned away as a frown etched itself onto his features.

"It's just Roy and Dick, s'not really meeting my family." He mumbled, toying with the handle of his cup, scratching his nails against the ceramic.

"Look, you don't have to, alright? I just thought-... I guess I don't really know what I thought."

Your heart ached. You've never seen him so defeated. So utterly downtrodden. His back slouched, head hung low while his gaze was focused on anything but you.

That heartbreaking glimmer in his eyes that never failed to make your own water.

Gently, you pried the mug from his grip and set it aside, taking his hands in yours.

The action made Jason avert his attention back to you, looking like a kicked puppy.

"I do want to meet them. I really, really do. Because they are your family, whether you want to admit it or not." You smiled softly, watching as he lit up immediately, a huff of relief making his chest feel lighter.

"I'm just nervous. And worried, I suppose? What they'll think, you know. I'm sure that I'm not exactly what they imagine when they think of your girlfriend." You chuckled nervously.

Jason, on the other hand, looked confused. Eyes narrowed, You-can-see-the-gears-turning-but-nothing-is-happening confused.

"What in the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

You cackled at the expression on his face and the goofy tone of his voice.

"Okay, let me put it like this. You're family is a bunch of buff, unfairly jacked and lean super geniuses. Not to mention how good the girls look. And Kori? She's a literal space princess! I just feel like I don't quite fit in. Can you imagine someone like me at one of those Galas? They would lose their minds-"

"'Someone like you? You mean a gorgeous, beautiful, stunning plump lady with a brain so big I sometimes wonder how your neck is still intact? You mean someone like that? Because we could use more of that, trust me." He chuckled dryly.

"Also, you're hot as fuck." He deadpanned, blankly staring at you.

You playfully rolled your eyes, tracing the space between his knuckles.

"A. I know, B. you're biased. I mean, they all probably expect you to date some super model." You explained, sighing.

You knew your worth. You knew that you were beautiful and perfect just they way you are, even beginning to love yourself.

But when challenged with a family full of hotties like the Wayne's plus Gotham's elite, it was hard not to feel just a little out of place with all your curves, bumps and pudge.

Jason's lips were pressed together in a thin line before he inhaled sharply and pinned you down with his gaze.

"Alright, first of all, they have no expectation of who I'd date because I was fuckin' dead, and when I came back my only interest was revenge and smashing peoples heads in. If anything they thought I would die alone."

The bluntness of his words and the expecting raise in his brows had you shell shocked, and pleasantly surprised.

"You're making problems for yourself that don't exist, ladybird." His tone turned soft as did his eyes, enveloping your heart in a blanket of warmth.

"So, respectfully, you don't have a point." He concluded for you, leaning back against the couch with a satisfied noise.

"Huh, I guess I don't." You breathed out, a smile spreading on your face while Jason already sported a wicked grin.

"There ya go. Now, can I brag about my hot, smart and curvaceous girlfriend to my dickhead brother and loser best friend? Because, sweetheart, you're one hell of a woman." He smirked, leaning in to get you all hot and bothered by his proximity.

You bit your lip, trying to act unaffected by his antics.

"Okay, fine," You groaned, feigning annoyance, "But only because I love you." You finished, failing to hide the smile on your face.

In one swift motion, Jason grabbed you and pulled you into his lap, your back pressed firmly to his chest. You let out a startled noise that morphed into a laugh.

"See? Just had to butter you up a bit, pretty girl." He nosed at your neck, a grin showing off his pearly whites while his arms were snaked around your middle.

"What can I say? You have a way with words." You smirked, looking back at him over your shoulder.

Jason chuckled and turned you in his lap, making you face him.

"I do have a very skilled tongue, as you know." He winked at you, kneading the fat of your hips in his hands.

You groaned and rolled your eyes before grinning and pinching his cheek.

"So, you up for tomorrow? It'll just be at a shitty bar somewhere. They won't judge you, I promise. And if they do, they can take it up with Fuck-" Jason raised one arm and flexed his bicep, "and You." With a wide smile, he lifted his other arm, and you watched as his muscles practically inflated.

You giggled, squeezing his arm with an approving nod of your head.

"I'll be there. I just have some errands to run, so I'll meet you at the place, yeah?" You replied sweetly, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose.

Jason's face scrunched up at your kiss, making him look like an adorable little bunny.

"Sounds good, ladybird." He replied, smiling.

There was something hiding beneath that smile, though. Something sinister. Mischievous. You squinted your eyes at him.

"... What are you up to?" You asked suspiciously, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Who? Me? I'm not up to anything." He replied sweetly, batting his lashes at you.

"Mhm." You hummed, searching for a hint in his teal eyes.

You could see his resolve cracking, his gaze breaking from your for just a split second. You continued to stare at him. Jason cleared his throat and gave you a tight smile before striking.

Quickly, he pushed you off his lap, making you stumble to the floor of your living room on shaky legs before he lowered himself to the ground, hooking one arm around your knees and hoisting you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

You screeched, digging your hands into his hoodie so you wouldn't fall.

"What the fuck! What are you doing?!" You screamed, cracking into a smile when you heard Jason cackle mischievously.

He moved quickly, rounding the couch and any obstacles with ease.

"Well, you see, I've been stumblin' over my words all day. Care to help me loosen up my tongue at bit, doll?" He grinned, hurrying to your bedroom.

"Jason!-"

Your voice burst with a laugh before you were interrupted by a loud crack when his hand met the back of your thigh.

You gasped, quickly followed by a slap against his clothed back.

"Remember that name, angel. I have a feeling you'll be using it a lot tonight."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

"So, she coming?" Roy asked curiously, settling back into the deep-set lounge with his drink.

The redhead was seated in the middle, between the brothers, earning a shove and an annoyed eyeroll from Jason.

Dick snickered, taking a sip of his beverage.

"Why are you so obsessed with my girl, dude?"

"We just wanna make sure she's real. I'd hate to break you out of Arkham again, little wing." Dick grinned from behind the rim of his glass.

"Wow." Roy clicked his tongue, nodding along to the diabolical comment.

Jason only stared at his brother blankly, blinking once, then twice.

"Too far?" Dick asked, wincing slightly.

"Whaddya think, dickhead?" Roy sighed sharply.

"You should be so glad that I'm in therapy. Otherwise I woulda wiped the floor with you right now." Jason mumbled, taking a swig of his drink.

"It's the Piña Coladas talking." His brother chuckled awkwardly.

Jason just snorted, leaning against the soft cushions.

"To answer your question, yes, she's coming." Roy lit up, excitedly setting his beer down on the table.

"Really? So we get to meet the fabled ladybird, huh?" The redhead grinned, bumping his shoulder with Jason's.

He only shook his head and playfully rolled his eyes at Roy.

"Why didn't she come with you, then?" Dick asked, brows furrowed.

"Had to stop by the craft store." Jason replied simply, finishing his drink.

"Oh, so it's like that? You really did get yourself a pretty little thing, didn't you?" Dick smirked, watching as Jason chuckled in response.

"Dickhead's right. They not only make pieces of art, they are ones." Roy agreed.

Dick scoffed at the nickname.

"She's pretty alright. Looks like she belongs in the Louvre." Jason responded with a smile, then immediately regretting that decision when Roy and Dick began to look like the cheshire cat.

"Ooooo, Jay's in looooove." Roy teased with a chuckle.

"Did little wing find an even litteler wing? That's adorable." Duck sniffled, wiping a faux tear from his lashline.

Jason grumbled in response, flipping them off.

"At least I didn't cheat on my girl." He mumbled sharply, hiding behind his second -or third?- glass of the night.

Dick's smile fell and he was reduced to a muttering mess, pouting like a child.

"God, you guys are actual children. Can I have one night-"

they both glanced at Roy when he stopped speaking, his lips parted as he stared at the entrance of the bar.

"You're lettin' flies in, carrot top." Jason said blankly.

Roy let out a low whistle, loosely gesturing to the bar before a smirk cracked on his face.

"Look at that piece of Eye Candy over there."

Dick followed his line of sight.

"Fuck me." He cursed, eyes wide.

"Look at those hips, jesus-"

"Now that's a woman."

Jason was mid sip, uninterested in this mystery woman ordering a drink at the bar. But, he glanced up anyway, only to choke on his drink when his eyes landed on you.

He sputtered, coughing as he felt the alcohol go up his nose.

"Woah, she got you good, didn't she?" Roy teased with a laugh, patting his back.

"Yep.." Jason croaked out, holding back a laugh.

"I'm telling ladybird." Dick said quickly.

Snitch.

"When will she be here anyway? It's been a while." He questioned, pulling up his sleeve to take a look at his watch.

"Soon, soon.." Jason replied, clearing his throat.

"Man, she could sit on me, and I'd thank her. And that rack-"

Roy continued letting his eyes trail over your body.

As amusing as Jason found this little misunderstanding, he couldn't help but grind his teeth and clench his fists.

Meanwhile, Dick delivered a slap to the back of Roy's head.

"Pervert! You don't talk about women like that." He scolded the redhead.

"Says you! As if you don't wanna be suffocated by those thighs or-or knock out on that tummy, I know you do!" Roy said sharply, pointing an accusing finger at Dick.

"Of course I do, but I didn't say it out loud, now did I?" He replied in a condescending tone.

"You fucking-"

"Oh, look, she's approaching us." Jason said nonchalantly, leaning back into the cushions with a grin, watching as the petty bickering between his brother and best friend stopped immediately.

"I call dibs! I saw her first." Roy said quickly, straightening his posture and trying to look unbothered while you approached.

"God fucking dammit." Dick cursed, being left to grumble with his Piña Colada.

He looked at Jason, who was comfortably leaned back with a smirk.

"How are you so chill about this?!" Dick asked irritated.

"You'll see." Jason grinned.

You walked towards them with a smile, the drink you'd just ordered at the bar in your hand. Roy put up his most charming face and quickly cleared his throat.

"Hello there, sweethea-"

his entire face dropped when you placed a hand on Jason's shoulder and pressed a kiss to his lips. His hands instinctively went to rest on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze.

"Hi, baby." You greeted sweetly.

"Hey there, ladybird." Jason grinned, glancing at Roy and Dick.

The redheads jaw was on the floor, speechless while his gaze flitted between you and his best friend. Dick was just as shocked, but quickly broke out of it.

"THAT’S LADYBIRD?!" He yelled, earning harsh stares from other guests.

Dick quieted down with an apologetic smile and leaned closer to Jason.

"You fucking asshole! Why didn't you do anything? You let us say all those things-" at the realization Dick went pale.

"He's gonna beat our asses." Roy mumbled, still staring at you and Jason.

"... Fuck."

You just stood there dumbfounded while Jason had a grin on his face that made a shiver run down Roy's spine.

"What things?" You asked, you brows furrowed in confusion.

Jason pulled you into his lap, resting one of his hands on your thigh.

"Don't worry about it, angel." He said softly, pecking your cheek.

"How the hell did you end with such a charity case as Jason?" Roy asked bluntly, slumped in his seat, defeated.

"Excuse me?" You sputtered with a scoff.

"That's a lot of nerve coming from someone looking like an affair baby." You shot back.

Dick burst out laughing, Jason cackling along side him while Roy only stared at you.

"And she's feisty? Fuuuuuuck.." He whined.

"Nice to meet you, ladybird." Dick gave you a friendly smile and nod, still wiping the tears from his eyes.

You returned the smile before leaning in to whisper into Jason's ear.

"Is the rest of your family also like this?"

"Like what?"

"Loudmouth assholes." You replied, staring straight at Roy who looked like you just slapped his mother.

Jason laughed, throwing his head back when he saw Roy's face.

"Ah, no. Some of them are quiet assholes."

Dick scoffed, immediately defending himself and his siblings with big hand gestures.

You chuckled as you watched.

"Don't be sad, carrot top," Jason began, giving Roy's shoulder a squeeze, "You couldn't handle her if you tried."

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Jason loves fat girls. Argue with the wall <3

Let me know what you think! 😚🩷

More of Jason and others -> 💫

《DC Taglist》: @allysunny @arkhamknightscxnt @gaozorous-rex-blog @hellonhells-x

Comment to be added 🐝🫧

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

[revelboo]

REVELLLLLLLL DROP ANOTHER MEGATRONUS FIC AND MY LIFE IS YOURRRRSSSSSS

honestly I’m such a big fan of your writing I’ve searched and searched for megatronus fics for so long and I have never found one but I checked your acc and I’ve never been so happy before like I’m addicted to your writing a lot of the time I look for transformers fanfics but I’ve never really liked them as much as yours and you also inspired me to start collecting transformers figures so I’m gonna start sooner or later cause things are expensive these days sadly 😔🤞🏽 but I don’t wanna start yapping so I’m gonna end it off here by revel have a beautiful weekend and week😋

I’m glad you like my nonsense! The figures are pretty fun to collect

Give It Up Pt 3

Megatronus Prime x Reader

• Venting in frustration when you swat his servos, chirping angrily, he just needs to see the little display on your arm long enough to figure out if he can pull your language from it. Something you’re absolutely not having. Studying your little suit more closely, he frowns. Maybe you’re breathing some exotic gas and need the suit to survive? “I don’t need your entire suit,” he says, holding a palm over his own arm and miming flipping up an invisible screen like you just did . Wishes he could get a better look at you, because your features are just an indistinct shadow through the tinted helmet. Staring up at him, you lay your own palm on your display and chirp softly. “On my honor, I’ll return your tech to you.”

• Grumbling, his awful language, he repeats the gesture. Why does he want your display? While you can detach it, you’re not sure you should. Though you doubt the super advanced living robot is the least bit interested in your tech. It’s probably the equivalent of a DOS computer to you. Or maybe a telegram. He’s defiantly not stealing secrets from it. And he’s not hurt you so far. Shook you until you nearly hurled, but you don’t think he was trying to harm you. If you’re trapped who knows where, you’re going to need someone to trust. You really hope that’s him.

• Chirping unhappily, you mess with the display until it detaches and hold the tiny thing out. And it’s such a shock that you’re willing to trust him. Extending a servo, he waits while you look at the display then at him before laying it on his servo. “Thank you, little one.” Lifting it, he squints at the tiny thing and shifts it to his datapad to try to sync the primitive technology. “You’re being very brave.”

• You really hope your GPS isn’t in the display. Really wish you’d paid more attention when the tech guys were explaining the minutiae of the suits instead of being terrified of what you were going to find on the other side of the portal. Giant, alien robots definitely hadn’t been on your bingo card, though. What can he even get off the thing, really? Nothing dangerous. Probably? Like coordinates to your world? “Please don’t be an evil, giant robot.”

• Waiting for the datapad to compile and create a language file for him, he studies you. Wonders what organics eat and how exactly you’d wound up on Cybertron. A peaceful explorer? You don’t seem to have any weapons. Can’t understand the language. And you’re so tiny as to be helpless. Probably not a warring species. Certainly don’t look at all intimidating in your puffy little suit. Moving closer, you rock up on tiptoe to try and see his datapad and chirp at him. Pointing with a finger and you’re just so adorable. “I’m going to give it back,” he reassures you, smiling behind his mask. Definitely not a warring species. You’re much too cute to be dangerous.

Previous

[theodorenmyth]

Hey in love w you page!!! Sooo my request is kind of a song I think it's from Selena gomez " and what hurts the most is people can go from people you know to people you dont" fiction for Theodore and Mattheo maybe like they change and become distant after getting popular.sorry for any grammar mistakes it's not my first language.thank you in advance:)))

People you know.

Pairings : Mattheo x G/N!Reader x Theodore

Summary : Mattheo and Theodore were once your closest friends—until they weren’t. Slowly, they grew distant, leaving you behind without explanation. When you finally confront them, their indifference cuts deeper than any excuse. The worst part? They didn’t even try to hold on.

A/n ; Heeyy!! Did you miss me? I sure missed all of you. Happy late New year's for all of you mythies :3

Warnings ; ANGST, LITERAL ANGST.

Word count ; 900+

At first, it’s nothing.

Mattheo doesn’t sling his arm over your shoulder anymore, doesn’t ruffle your hair when you’re sitting too focused in class, doesn’t smirk at you like you share a secret no one else could understand.

Theodore stops waiting for you after lessons, doesn’t save you a seat in the library, doesn’t tilt his head with that soft, knowing look when you’re too tired to speak.

It’s fine, you tell yourself. They’re busy. Everyone is busy.

They’ll come around.

But then it gets worse.

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

You walk into the Great Hall one morning, still groggy from sleep, expecting to find them at your usual spot at the Slytherin table. It’s routine—something you’ve done a hundred times. You’ll sit between them, Theo will shove a book at you and tell you to read something he finds interesting, and Mattheo will steal half your food off your plate and act offended when you try to take it back.

But today, your seat is taken.

Not just occupied—claimed.

Mattheo is leaning in close to some girl, laughing at something she’s saying, his hand brushing against hers on the table. Theodore is across from him, muttering something under his breath to a group of students you barely recognize, his sharp, intelligent eyes focused intently on whatever conversation he’s involved in.

They don’t look up when you approach.

You hesitate for a second, your heart stuttering.

It’s fine. Maybe they just didn’t see you.

“Hey,” you greet, sliding your hands into your pockets to ground yourself.

Mattheo glances up, his expression blank for a second before something flickers over his face—like he wasn’t expecting you.

“Oh. Hey.”

There’s something cold in the way he says it, something distant that sinks deep into your ribs.

You glance at Theo, expecting him to say something, anything, but he barely acknowledges you. Just gives the smallest nod, like you’re just another face in the crowd.

Like you’re not you.

You wet your lips, trying to keep your voice steady. “Are we still studying later?”

Mattheo scratches the back of his neck, looking vaguely uncomfortable. “Uh. Probably not. Got plans.”

Plans.

You wait for him to elaborate. To say something about catching up later, about rescheduling, about anything.

But he doesn’t.

Neither does Theodore.

Something tightens in your throat. You nod once, quickly, and step back. “Right.”

No one stops you as you walk away.

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

Days pass. Then weeks.

And soon, you realize they aren’t just busy. They aren’t just distracted.

They’re gone.

Not physically. No, they’re still there, in the same places, sitting at the same tables, walking down the same halls. But they aren’t your Theo and Mattheo.

Not anymore.

You’re not sure when exactly it happens—the moment they stop waiting for you after lessons, the moment they stop saving you a seat at the table, the moment your inside jokes stop landing because you aren’t included in them anymore.

But the distance is undeniable now.

One night, you’re in the common room, staring blankly at the fire, your mind tangled in memories you don’t want to let go of. You’re tired. Tired of feeling like you’re chasing ghosts, of grasping at something that keeps slipping through your fingers.

And then they walk in.

Laughing.

Not just laughing—carefree.

Mattheo is grinning as he shoves Theo’s shoulder, murmuring something that makes Theo chuckle under his breath. They move easily, in sync, the way they always have—except this time, you’re not a part of it.

And what makes it worse—so much worse—is that they don’t even see you.

Not until you make them.

You push yourself up from the couch, crossing the room with steady, deliberate steps.

“We need to talk.”

Mattheo sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. “Now?”

You swallow hard. “Yes. Now.”

Theodore exhales sharply, looking tired already. “What’s this about?”

You almost laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Mattheo raises a brow. “What’s your problem?”

Your problem.

Your problem.

Anger flares in your chest, sudden and sharp. “My problem is that you two have been acting like I don’t fucking exist.”

Mattheo shifts, crossing his arms. “You’re being dramatic.”

You feel like the air is sucked out of your lungs. “Dramatic?”

Theodore sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Things change.”

You stare at him, disbelief curling in your stomach. “And I guess I just wasn’t part of those changes?”

Silence.

You let out a sharp breath, your hands balling into fists. “Did I do something?”

Mattheo looks away.

Theodore doesn’t say anything.

And that’s when you know.

That’s when it hits you—really hits you—that this isn’t something you can fix. This isn’t some fight you can smooth over, some misunderstanding that can be cleared up with the right words.

You’ve already lost them.

And the worst part?

They don’t even care.

Your throat feels tight, like you’re holding back something too painful to name. “I thought we were—” You inhale sharply, shaking your head. “I thought we were more than this.”

Mattheo doesn’t look at you.

Theodore stays silent.

And that? That fucking silence is worse than any excuse they could have given.

You nod slowly, stepping back. “I guess I just didn’t realize how easy it was for you both.” Your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. “To go from people I knew to people I don’t.”

For a split second—just a second—Theo’s expression flickers. Like maybe there’s something left.

But it’s gone too fast.

Mattheo looks away first.

Theodore follows.

And neither of them stop you as you walk away.

And that’s what hurts the most. And maybe, just maybe, that’s where the story of you, Mattheo, and Theodore truly ends.

[dulcescorderitas]

it was late when you stumbled up the gravel driveway to the kent farmhouse, the cool night air doing nothing to sober the haze clouding your mind. the porch light was on, a soft yellow glow that made the house feel impossibly warm and inviting—just like clark. your clark. you could already picture him inside, probably reading or fixing something, being his usual annoyingly perfect self.

“claaaark,” you called, your voice dragging as you pushed the screen door open with more force than necessary. it banged against the frame, and you winced, giggling at your own clumsiness. “clark, where are you? i need youuuu.”

the sound of heavy, familiar footsteps thudded through the house, and a moment later, clark appeared in the doorway, his brows furrowed in confusion. “(y/n)? what are you… are you drunk?”

you flopped against the doorframe dramatically, looking up at him with what you were sure was the most pitiful expression you could muster. “maybe,” you said, dragging the word out. “but it’s not my fault, clark. it’s… it’s tequila’s fault. and also, you weren’t there, and i missed you.”

his frown softened immediately, replaced by something warmer, something that made your chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol. “you missed me?” he asked, stepping closer and gently taking your arm to steady you. his touch was so solid, so grounding, that you leaned into him instinctively.

“so much,” you whined, pressing your forehead against his chest. “you’re always off saving people or… lifting tractors or whatever it is you do, and i’m just… lonely.”

his arms came up around you, warm and secure, and he let out a soft chuckle. “first of all, i don’t just lift tractors,” he said, his voice full of that teasing affection that made your heart flutter. “and second, you could’ve called me. i’d have come running.”

you tilted your head back to look at him, pouting. “but i wanted to see you. and hug you. and…” your fingers fumbled with the buttons on his flannel shirt, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “and maybe do a little more than just kiss you.”

his blush deepened, spreading up his neck, but his hands stayed firmly on your waist, steadying you. “(y/n), you…” he trailed off, his voice soft but cautious. “you’re not exactly in a clear headspace right now.”

“but i’m so frustrated,” you whined, leaning up to nuzzle into his neck, your lips brushing against his skin. “you’re always running off, being all heroic and perfect, and i… i just want you, clark. right now. please? i want you to…” your voice dipped lower, a sultry edge creeping in despite the slur, “just take me upstairs and fuck me already.”

his breath hitched, and for a moment, you felt his hands tighten on your hips, his resolve wavering. the tension in the air was thick enough to choke on, but then he pulled back slightly, cradling your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “hey,” he said gently, his voice steady and full of warmth. “you know i want you too. you have no idea how much. but not like this, not when you’re like this. you’ll thank me tomorrow, i promise.”

“i won’t,” you grumbled, but your words lacked any real conviction. “you’re too good, you know that? too damn good.”

“and you’re tipsy,” he replied with a small smile, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “but we’ve got forever, remember? there’s no rush.”

“i hate when you’re right,” you muttered, but you let him guide you toward the couch, where he grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“get some rest,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “and tomorrow, we’ll talk. properly.”

even in your hazy, frustrated state, you couldn’t help but smile at him. “fine,” you said, sinking into the couch and letting the warmth of the blanket and his presence lull you into a drowsy calm. “but you’re not getting out of this forever thing, kent.”

“wouldn’t dream of it,” he said softly, watching over you as you drifted off, his love for you shining in his eyes.

taglist: @legalmente-loca @soangelbaby

[reidmania]

maiden name | s.reid

summary; reader is struggling to accept having to change her last name, spencer is there to remind her he will love her regardless.

warnings; fem reader, talks about changing names, reader has a healthy childhood (the fact this is a warning?!?) reader grew up with two brothers, fiancee!reader, almost smitten spencer, mentions a childhood dog death, doubts, anxiety, hurt x comfort, a little angst but its pretty sweet overall, happy ending duh! Reader graduated highschool and uni

an; HAI GUYS!! first fic in who knows how long 🔥🔥

Spencer was perfect. The proposal was perfect. Private, safe, romantic. Everything you had always dreamed of and more. He had made sure you had gotten your nails done recently enough, he made sure you loved them. He used Penelope and his female coworkers to figure out exactly what ring you would want. Of course, he already knew, but their reassurance helped.

You didn’t see it coming, but that wasn’t a bad thing. saying yes to spending the rest of your life with Spencer Reid was the easiest thing you had ever done. You never doubted that for a second, the fact you wanted Spencer, everyday, for the rest of your life. To feel the warmth of him when you woke up, or to see the small note on your bedside table when he had to wake up early for work and didn’t want to disturb you.

You wanted his long rambles, and beautiful mind everyday, for as long as the universe would allow you to have it. You wanted his too sweet left over coffee’s when you were running late and he offered you the rest of his so you didn’t have to wait for your own to brew.

You wanted his fears, everything that made him second guess, you wanted every chance to reassure him, you would spend the rest of your life reminding him how perfect he was to you, for you, and you would do so happily.

You were completely enthralled by Spencer from the moment you met him. And he never let you second guess if he felt the same when his actions made the answer clear as day. Spencer was the person you wanted to have a family with, to grow old with.

So why, a week before your wedding did a daunting feeling fill your stomach.

“You alright, baby?” Spencer’s hands gripped your waist gently as he moved past you in the kitchen, where the two of you were supposed to be cooking dinner. This had been routine, something you fell in love with. One night, dedicated to making dinner together. Eating it while watching some documentaries, because to you and him date nights didn’t need to be fancy, just together.

You however had zoned out, probably for the last long while. You had been cutting tomatos but your thoughts had gotten the best of you, leaving you staring at the knife in your hands, but not really looking at it. Now, snapped out of your daze, your head turned to Spencer as he held out a sheet of paper towel for you to wipe your hands.

You took it, pushing a soft smile to your lips. “Sorry- Yeah.” You said, eyes moving to the paper towel as you wiped away the juices the tomato had left. Spencer seemed unconvinced but hummed, moving to wrap his arms around your waist, his chin finding place on your shoulder.

The way his hands slipped under your (his) t-shirt, fingernails drawing gently up and down the skin of your waist, made you smile. The action so gentle and full of everything you needed in that moment. “Talk to me, sweet girl.” The touch a grounding reassurance that Spencer Reid, was not the issue.

And while you couldn’t seem to pinpoint the exact reason, you knew that reason was sitting in your childhood home, at the breakfast bar in the morning, the house smelling sweet with whatever your mother had been cooking for breakfast, the front door left wide open as your brothers came in and out, noise following where ever they went. Their friends coming in to steal a slice of toast, or a piece of fruit before they drove you all too school.

Because your house was the type of house they could do that.

The reason was in the living room on weekends, where you watched your brothers laughing and fighting over the mario kart round they had been playing, while you sat on the floor in between your mums legs while she braided your hair. Your dad due home from work any moment, which would be followed by more chaos and laughter because Saturday nights were movie night.

It was in long car rides full of meaningless bickering with your brothers, then a lot of giggling, pit stops and bathroom breaks. It was in your dad carrying you inside after you fell asleep in the car, which eventually turned into your brothers carrying you inside, when everyone got older and your dad’s back was no longer equipped for carrying body weight, your brothers never minded.

The reason was in your brother’s shared bedroom curled up in one of the beds, both of them on either of your side, all three teary eyed and sniffling because your childhood dog had just passed away and at 15, there was no where safer then in your older brothers arms. The reason was in how they allowed you to sleep on a mattress in their room for a month after, because your room felt too lonely without your dogs company anymore.

The reason was in when you graduated from high school, and your family cheered so loudly you couldn’t hear anyone else. It was in the flowers they gave you, in the hugs — and how it was the exact same when you graduated from university. It was in doing the exact same for your brothers when they graduated.

You hadn’t realised Spencer’s arms were wrapped around you, at some point you shifted, or he shifted you so your face was buried in his chest, cheeks tear stained. His hand on the back of your head, rubbing gently over your hair. Movement so tender it made you realise now Spencer’s arms were the safest place in the world.

“M’ sorry” you sniffled as you pulled away from the hug, the knuckles of your fingers coming to wipe away the wet spots under your eyes that left an uncomfortable residue of everything you were feeling. A shaky sort of breathless laugh leaving your lips, “It’s not a big deal, I’m being dramatic.” You smiled up at Spencer, a sad sort of smile.

He smiled back but you could see the worry in his eyes as he leant over to turn off the stove. He could read you better than you could, well enough to know this wasn’t a conversation you could have while juggling between cooking dinner. His hands then moved to cup your face, thumbs replacing your knuckles as he wiped away whatever was left on your cheeks.

“If its making you cry, its not dramatic, its how you feel.” He mumbled gently, eyes dancing over your face. Before he leant forward, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, the sort of one that made you exhale and melt into him a bit, the soft, lingering one he saved for moments when he knew you needed it. “Talking about it?” He asked, because he knew you, and knew sometimes all you needed was to cry, words weren’t always necessary to deal with it.

But you nodded, sniffling slightly. “Talking about it.” You agreed gently. Back of your hand coming to wipe your nose, followed by another sniffle.

Spencer smiled, “Okay pretty, go sit on the couch and I’ll make you a tea yeah?” He offered gently, you knew it was more because he knew you’d need a minute to mentally prepare what you were going to say, he knew you’d do that better without his gaze on you. He knew you’d be more comfortable on the couch, in the corner where you had a place to sink into in the corner because at least once, you would feel silly and embarrassed. Spencer knew you.

You nodded, offering him a grateful smile to which he responded by scrunching up his nose a little playfully, pressing another two quick kisses against your forehead before letting you go so you could walk to the living room. Which you sat, trying to make sense of your own emotions.

He didn’t take long but you know he waited till you nodded to follow through with entering the living room. He sat close, but not close enough to overwhelm you if your emotions became too much, but still close enough for you to feel he was there, enough to remind you that he was not the reason you were down.

The candle, the one lit in the middle of your coffee table, the same one your mother had lit your entire childhood didn’t help the way you were feeling, but it didn’t make it worse. In a way it was comforting, just no longer comforting enough.

“Did i do something?” Spencer asked, because he knew figuring out what the issue was vaguely would help him help you, and it would help you build the courage to tell him what was going on, and what you needed from him in order to fix this.

You shook your head, smiling gently. “No, Spence. It’s not— Nobody did anything. It’s just me.” You said quietly, his face twisted into something familiar, concern, doubt, worry. You hated that, and he knew you did. When he jumped to conclusions in his mind, overthinking getting the better of him.

“Second guessing?” He asked, his lip then caught in his teeth as he tried not to show how much getting the answer terrified him. You knew what he meant, second guessing the wedding, getting married. You almost wanted to laugh at his lack of understanding of how impossible it was for you to doubt that, when he was him, and oh so perfect, all the time even when he wasn’t — especially when he wasn’t.

You shook your head again, “No.” it was simple, straightforward because it was true.

He sighed something similar to relief, his eyes studying yours for a moment. “You gotta help me out here, angel.” He silently pleaded with you, because he tried not to show it, but you knew your random crying and emotional change was concerning to him, because he cared about you in an all consuming way.

“I don’t— i don’t know how to make it make sense.” You said quietly, looking down to fiddle with the engagement ring on your finger. Not because you were thinking about taking it off, but because it was something safe, and fiddling helped calm you down.

“Word vomit, I’ll put it together.” He said. A familiar line you had heard a hundred times, and he always seemed to prove that.

You sniffled again. “I- I just-“ you sighed, “I want to make it clear I’m not doubting you or us or anything— And its not that I don’t want yours.. Really its not— I like the way it sounds. I love your family.. Your mum- i feel bad i feel this way. I love you and I’m yours forever, I want this, I want you and I can’t wait” You breathed out, then your voice broke and the tears started all over again, a wet lining on your eyes that made your vision blurry and you afraid to blink, “And I’ll really miss my last name.”

You didn’t watch Spencer’s face twist into something a lot gentler and softer, as he shuffled closer on the couch to wrap his arms around you. It was easy to melt into him, so secure and safe and something that made this so difficult. Something you should be excited for feeling so scary and distant, and you really did feel bad you felt this way.

“You don’t have to change it, honey. You- I would take your name a million times if thats what you wanted — You don’t- Oh Im so sorry baby.” He mumbled as he pressed a handful of kisses into your hair, his hand moving to smooth it over in between.

“We could hyphenate it, if that’s what you wanted. God- Honey I don’t care about whose last name we take as long as I have you.” He said gently, voice so soft and honest in made your stomach twist and you wish you could better explain yourself, but you melted into him, letting the tears fall from your eyes.

A shaky breath left your lips, “Its not even so much about the name.” You spoke out quietly, “I guess— Its just my family, my life- Im good with change, y’know I am— I just.. I want yours— I’m just really gonna miss mine.” You breathed out.

He nodded and you could feel it, his hand moving from your head to your lower back.

“Okay— Thats okay. We can wait a while, yeah? You don’t have to change it immediately, we can wait till you have processed it and you’re ready. And if then — You decide you want to keep yours, or you want me to change mine, thats okay too. Sounds like a plan?” He offered.

Perfect Spencer Reid. He never failed you remind you. His patience and gentleness everlasting and unconditional.

“Sounds like a plan.”

[comflexxed]

june felt hans’ words settle into his chest, also letting the silence stretch between them. not because he didn’t have words but because he wanted to sit in the weight of this feeling, let it press into his ribs and fill up the space. fingers curled slightly around hans’, grounding himself in the contact, in the quiet confession of it.

he glanced at hans, catching the way the soft glow of the tv played against his features, the way his head rested against the couch in a rare moment of ease. june wanted to memorize him like this, to store away the sound of his quiet laugh, the way his blush deepened ever so slightly when he admitted how much this meant.

“i think you’re onto something.” june murmured, his voice just above a whisper. his thumb brushed absently over the back of hans’ hand, a small, absentminded motion, like he was still getting used to being allowed to touch him like this. “movie theaters have nothing on this. no overpriced popcorn, no strangers talking too loud—just good company, good snacks, and…” he glanced down at their hands and let out a small, almost sheepish chuckle.

he leaned his head back against the couch as well, mirroring hans without thinking about it, exhaling softly as he let himself relax further into the moment. his free hand wrapped loosely around his mug, the liquid still warming the ceramic.

“there’s something about this that makes me feel like i don’t have to hold my breath,” he admitted after a moment, voice softer now, more thoughtful. “like i don’t have to be anything more than… me. just me.” he turned his head slightly to look at hans, a slow smile playing at his lips. “that’s probably what makes it thrilling,” he mused, echoing hans’ words from earlier.

his gaze lingered for a second longer before he turned his eyes back to the screen, giving hans’ hand a small squeeze. he didn’t need to say anything else — he figured, by now, hans knew exactly what he meant.

hans could only be silent for a minute as he stared back at june, letting june’s words linger in the air as he replayed each word over in his head. each one held so much meaning, making his chest ache in the best way. the hand that reached out for his instinctively felt so comforting, it was as if the entire moment could be so fleeting but that warmth was promising him it was real. 

the slow smile that curved his lips showed how much the moment meant to him, june’s presence, this space they got to share together with sunny. “i don’t think i’ve had a night like this either. it would be nice to have more nights like this,” he responded, letting the hope for the possibility of the future seep into his voice as he leaned back and settled into a more comfortable position, sunny’s quiet munching and june’s hand falling perfectly in his grounding him in the moment. 

the movie could have been the worst choice, but he doubted any of them would mind. even sunny felt content with the company, her hands reaching for her mug and balancing it carefully with both her hands, a band of liquid chocolate outlining her lips as she took a sip. 

“it’s the kind of night that holds so much meaning, i don’t want to ever let it go,” hans continued, his eyes casting downward to their joined hands for a second before he returned to the tv screen to watch, the glow illuminating their faces against the softening lights outside. 

hans leaned his head all the way back, letting the back of the couch support his neck as he allowed the moment to let him feel carefree, like there was no persona he needed to keep up. he turned his head to the side, facing june, a quiet chuckle escaping him. “you make the simple act of watching a movie feel so much more… thrilling,” he admitted beyond himself, the last word causing a faint blush on his cheeks. “it’s just more peaceful yet more fun, who needs a moviehouse when we can have this?” 

[jzprncess]

the neighbor effect

pairing : oscar piastri x reader

oneshot

word count : 9,449

summary : Y/N moves to Monaco for a fresh start, thinking it’s just gonna be her, baking, and figuring things out. Then there’s her neighbor, Oscar—super chill, always around, but completely mysterious. They bond over cookies and muffins, and Y/N has no idea that he’s actually a Formula 1 driver. But when the Monaco Grand Prix weekend rolls around, everything goes haywire when Y/N realizes she’s been living next to someone way more famous than she ever imagined. Between all the confusion, a surprise kiss, and the chaos that follows, Y/N’s not sure if she’s in over her head—or if she’s exactly where she’s meant to be.

note : i had to rewrite parts of this over and over again. this is my longest fic so far, lets clap it up. i actually cooked with this one, please like it.

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Moving to Monaco in the middle of December sounded a lot more glamorous in theory. In reality, I spent my first night huddled under three mismatched blankets, seriously debating whether the heating in my shiny new apartment was broken or if this was just what Mediterranean winter felt like.

I’d moved here for a fresh start, something about leaving old baggage behind and stepping into the next chapter of my life. Except no one tells you that starting over often means spending a lot of time alone, wondering if you made the right decision.

That’s how I found myself in the hallway on my second day, struggling to carry a too-large box labeled Kitchen Stuff & Regret. I hadn’t realized how much I’d overpacked until I was halfway to my door, my arms trembling under the weight.

“Need a hand?”

The voice startled me, and I nearly dropped the box. I turned to see a guy standing a few feet away, wearing a black hoodie, gray joggers, and a curious expression.

“Uh, no, I’m good,” I lied, immediately regretting it as the box tilted precariously.

“Right,” he said, clearly unconvinced. Without waiting for permission, he stepped forward and took the box from me like it weighed nothing.

“Show-off,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help but smile.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Just being neighborly.”

“Thanks,” I said as he followed me to my door. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Oscar,” he replied, setting the box down inside my apartment.

Up close, I could see he was probably around my age—early twenties—with sharp features and an easy confidence about him. He glanced around my half-unpacked living room, taking in the mess of boxes and furniture.

“Just moved in?” he asked.

“Yeah. Trying to figure out where I want everything before I give up and let chaos take over.”

He smiled, nodding toward the box. “Well, good luck with that. I’m right across the hall if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” I said, leaning against the doorframe as he stepped back into the hallway.

“See you around,” he said with a nod before disappearing into his apartment.

And just like that, I had my first real interaction with the mysterious neighbor across the hall.

After he left, I stood in the doorway for a moment, staring at the closed door across from mine like it might open again. Spoiler alert: it didn’t. With a shrug, I kicked the box into the living room, officially declaring it a problem for Future Me.

The next few days were a blur of unpacking, assembling furniture, and discovering that Monaco in December was a lot colder than I’d prepared for. Gone were my delusions of sipping coffee on the balcony in the morning sun. Instead, I huddled inside, bundled in my coziest hoodie, and watched the world outside through the frost-slicked windows.

Oscar, true to his enigmatic vibe, was nowhere to be seen. A part of me wondered if he was some kind of ghost who only materialized to save clumsy new neighbors and then vanished into the ether. But his sporadic comings and goings proved otherwise—sometimes I’d hear the ding of the elevator late at night or the faint shuffle of footsteps in the hallway. I never caught him, though.

Until one particularly cold Saturday morning.

I was juggling a steaming mug of coffee, my phone, and a box of garbage bags as I headed for the trash chute at the end of the hall. The scene was already precarious, but things got worse when my phone buzzed with a notification. I glanced down instinctively, and that was my fatal error.

One wrong step, and my foot caught on absolutely nothing because I’m just that talented. I stumbled forward, my coffee cup slipping from my grasp in a glorious slow-motion arc.

“Oh, sh—”

A hand shot out, catching the cup mid-air.

“Impressive,” came the familiar voice.

I turned, my face hot with embarrassment, to see Oscar standing there, coffee cup in one hand and an amused smirk on his face. He was in the same casual uniform as before—hoodie, joggers, and sneakers—but this time with a beanie pulled low over his head.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” I said, trying to play it cool despite the very uncool way I’d almost face planted.

“You’re welcome,” he said, handing me the cup.

“How do you keep showing up exactly when I’m about to embarrass myself?”

“Great timing, I guess,” he replied, leaning against the wall.

I could tell he was holding back a laugh, which only made me more flustered. “Do you just hang out in the hallway waiting for me to trip over thin air, or…?”

“Caught me,” he said, deadpan. “It’s my new hobby.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Well, thanks for the save… again.”

“No problem.” He glanced down at the garbage bags I’d dropped in the chaos. “You planning to carry all that to the chute by yourself, or should I brace for round two of Disaster Neighbor?”

“Ha, ha,” I said, handing him a bag. “Since you’re offering, you might as well help.”

third pov

By the time they made it to the trash chute, Y/N had successfully recovered from her near wipeout—mostly. Oscar, on the other hand, seemed far too amused by the whole thing.

“So,” she said, trying to fill the silence as they walked back to their apartments. “Do you just live in the gym, or are you naturally good at catching falling objects and lifting heavy things?”

He shrugged. “Bit of both.”

“Not much of a talker, huh?”

He glanced at her, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “I talk when there’s something to say.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Mysterious and vague. Classic.”

They stopped outside her door, and for a moment, there was an awkward silence. She fiddled with the sleeve of her hoodie, suddenly hyper-aware of how close they were standing.

“Well, thanks for the help. Again.”

“Anytime,” he said, his tone casual but warm.

She opened her door, stepping inside. As she turned to close it, she caught him glancing down the hallway, like he was debating something.

“See you around?” she offered.

“Yeah,” he said, meeting her gaze. “See you around.”

The door clicked shut, and Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She leaned against the door for a moment, her mind replaying the interaction like a movie montage.

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

And for now, that was enough.

y/n’s pov

It all started with a craving and a little too much confidence.

Baking had always been my go-to for stress relief, but I tended to overestimate how much one person could realistically eat before things got weird. Case in point: the mountain of oatmeal walnut cookies currently cooling on every flat surface of my kitchen.

“Great job, Y/N,” I muttered, surveying the sugary battlefield. “Really nailed the whole moderation thing.”

The smell of warm cinnamon and toasted walnuts was amazing, but even I had limits. Unless I planned on eating cookies for every meal for the next week—which, tempting as it sounded, probably wasn’t the move—I needed a plan.

That’s when my eyes flicked toward the door across the hall.

My neighbor hadn’t been home much, but when he was, he seemed nice enough. And if anyone looked like they could put away an entire batch of cookies without breaking a sweat, it was the guy who casually caught flying coffee cups and lifted trash bags like they were empty.

Grabbing a plate, I stacked a neat pile of cookies on it, covering them with foil. I debated for a second, wondering if this was too random, but then I thought, What’s the worst that could happen? Worst case: no one’s home, and I keep the cookies. Best case: I earn brownie points—or, well, cookie points—with the mysterious dude across the hall.

Balancing the plate in one hand, I opened my door and stepped into the hallway.

third pov

Y/N hesitated in front of Oscar’s door, suddenly hyper-aware of how quiet the hallway was. For all she knew, he could’ve been halfway across the world. But before she could talk herself out of it, she raised her free hand and knocked lightly.

There was a pause, long enough for her to start retreating, but then she heard the lock turn.

The door opened to reveal Oscar, looking a little rumpled but still effortlessly put-together in a hoodie and sweats. His hair stuck up slightly, like he’d just rolled out of bed.

“Uh, hey,” Y/N started, holding up the plate like an offering. “I, um, baked too many cookies and thought… maybe you’d want some?”

For a second, Oscar just blinked at her. Then a small smile tugged at his lips, softening his usual stoic expression. “Cookies?”

“Oatmeal walnut,” she said, suddenly feeling a little ridiculous. “Unless you’re allergic to walnuts. In which case, I’m so sorry, and I’ll just—”

“I’m not allergic,” he cut in, stepping aside. “Come in.”

y/n’s pov

I followed him into his apartment, still holding onto the slightly awkward feeling of standing at someone’s door with a plate of cookies. His space was immaculate—like a showroom. Sleek black counters, stainless steel appliances, and not a single thing out of place. My own apartment, with its half-unpacked boxes and cluttered surfaces, suddenly felt like a war zone by comparison.

“Wow,” I said, glancing around. “Your place is… ridiculously clean. Do you live here or just visit?”

He smirked as he placed the plate of cookies on the counter. “I’m not here much. It’s easier to keep clean when you’re gone half the time.”

“Fair,” I said, leaning against the counter as he peeled the foil off the plate. “Meanwhile, my place looks like I’m hoarding cardboard boxes and random piles of clothes. Maybe I’ll just hire you to organize for me.”

He glanced up, an amused glint in his eye. “I’ll pass. But thanks for the offer.”

I laughed. “That was fast. I didn’t even get to bribe you with more cookies.”

“Speaking of,” he said, picking one up and turning it over in his hand like he was inspecting it for quality control, “what made you bake… this many?”

“Stress,” I admitted, crossing my arms. “Unpacking is the worst. Plus, I’m a chronic over-baker. I think I made about sixty.”

He raised an eyebrow, taking a bite. “Sixty?”

“Give or take.”

“You know there’s only one of you, right?”

“That’s why I’m here,” I said with a grin. “I figured I’d share the wealth.”

He nodded, chewing thoughtfully. After a moment, he swallowed and said, “These are good.”

“You’re not just saying that, are you? Be honest.”

“I’m serious,” he said, reaching for another. “If I didn’t like them, you’d know.”

“Good to know you don’t sugarcoat things,” I said. “No pun intended.”

“Sure it wasn’t,” he said with a small smirk.

I rolled my eyes but smiled. “You’re lucky I like honesty. Anyway, I hope you’re hungry because I’ve got a whole army’s worth of these across the hall.”

“I can tell,” he said, grabbing a second cookie. “You ever thought about selling these?”

“Selling cookies? No, not really,” I said, a little flustered by the compliment. “I mean, it’s just a hobby.”

He leaned against the counter, taking another bite. “Could be a profitable hobby.”

“Oh yeah? Think I could make it big with oatmeal walnut cookies? Maybe I’ll start a cookie empire.”

“Could be worth a shot,” he said, his tone completely serious, though I could see the hint of humor in his expression.

“Alright, well, if I go global, I’ll make sure to mention you in my TED Talk about chasing my dreams,” I said with a laugh.

“Appreciate it,” he said, deadpan.

I shook my head, still smiling. “Alright, I should get going. Don’t want to interrupt your… whatever you were doing before I showed up.”

He glanced toward his living room, where a laptop sat open on the coffee table. “Wasn’t doing much. Just catching up on some things.”

“Well, now you’ve got cookies to keep you company,” I said, pushing off the counter.

“Thanks for these,” he said, walking with me toward the door. “They’re seriously good.”

“Anytime,” I replied. “And if you ever need more… or, you know, want to start organizing my apartment, just let me know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, opening the door for me.

I stepped into the hallway and turned back to face him. “Enjoy the cookies, Oscar.”

“Thanks, Y/N. See you around.”

As the door clicked shut behind me, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. It was such a simple interaction, but it left me feeling lighter somehow—like I was finally settling into this new life, one cookie and awkward conversation at a time.

third pov

The morning light streaming through the kitchen window felt different today, like a fresh start. Y/N stood at the counter, stirring a bowl of banana bread batter with a slight smile on her face. She had a steady rhythm, something she had found comfort in since moving to Monaco. Today, however, was different. She wasn't just baking for herself or because she had nothing else to do.

After dropping off the cookies to Oscar yesterday, she’d felt an odd rush of excitement. Oscar hadn’t said much—just thanked her and ate them right there—but there was something in the way he seemed genuinely happy that had sparked an idea in her head.

Maybe I should actually consider this...

She’d been thinking about it all night, the thought gnawing at her in the quiet moments before sleep. A job. Something more than just living off her savings while she figured out what to do with herself. The idea of working in a bakery, helping people start their day with something sweet, didn’t sound half bad. Maybe she’d make some friends along the way, too.

She paused mid-stir to glance around her kitchen. It was quiet—too quiet. Her move to Monaco had been a whirlwind, and while the city was beautiful, the loneliness had crept in unexpectedly. She had only met Oscar three times, and those encounters hadn't been enough to spark a friendship, though he had been kind enough to compliment the cookies she’d given him. But she still didn't have his number. She had no way of reaching out to him for anything beyond another casual greeting if their paths crossed again.

With a sigh, she refocused on her muffin batter. The oven was preheated and ready for the batch of banana muffins she had planned. She didn’t even need the muffins for herself—she simply needed something to do.

She scrolled through a few ads on her phone for bakeries and cafes around Monaco, her fingers flying across the screen as she filled out application after application. Maybe, just maybe, this would be the start of something new.

The smell of ripe bananas filled the room, and Y/N smiled. There was something simple and grounding about baking. She didn’t need anyone else to validate her, but a small part of her wished she had someone to share the muffins with. Maybe she would take a batch to one of the cafes she’d applied to, just to show that she could bake more than just cookies.

The timer went off, signaling that the muffins were done. She pulled them from the oven, their golden tops warm and inviting. As she arranged them on a cooling rack, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a step in the right direction.

Oscar’s casual suggestion about working at a bakery had lingered with her since yesterday. She hadn’t really considered it before, but now, with a fresh batch of muffins in hand, it felt like the right time to take action. She’d send some applications today, maybe stop by a few places, and see where it led.

Even if it was just a way to get out of the apartment, maybe it would help her feel a little less alone.

After a few hours of cleaning up and putting away the last batch of muffins, Y/N sat on her couch, scrolling through her phone. She had sent a few applications and gotten a couple of quick responses asking her to come in for interviews. The thought made her feel lighter, like she was moving in the right direction. But, as she scrolled through her messages, she found herself wondering about the cookies she'd given Oscar yesterday.

What if he didn’t even like them? she thought for a second, gnawing at her lower lip. She had never done something like that for a neighbor before. It was a little… weird. But then again, they had barely talked, and she'd barely known anyone here. He probably just thought it was some random act of kindness, nothing more.

Still, she couldn't help the little spark of excitement that lingered in her chest.

With the muffins cooling on the kitchen counter, Y/N decided to go for a walk to clear her head. She tossed on her coat, scarf, and gloves—layers that were necessary with the December chill in the air—and left her apartment. The streets of Monaco were quieter now, the city settled into the crisp stillness of a cold winter evening.

As she made her way down the narrow streets, her breath puffed out in little clouds in front of her. The air was freezing, her fingers cold against her gloves, but the walk felt necessary. It was good to get out, especially with how cooped up she had been lately. The familiar feeling of solitude wrapped around her as she passed by boutique storefronts with their windows adorned for the holidays, the twinkling lights reflecting off the damp cobblestones.

She stopped at one of the cafes, the warm, inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and pastries pulling her inside. The door closed behind her with a satisfying jingle, and the warmth hit her face immediately. She smiled, relieved to be out of the cold.

“Coffee?” the barista asked as she walked up to the counter.

Y/N nodded, pulling off her scarf. "Please. A hot cappuccino, if you’ve got it."

The barista gave her a warm smile as she prepared the drink, and soon enough, Y/N had a steaming cup in her hands. She found a small corner table by the window and sank into the chair, basking in the warmth of the café. It was a cozy little spot, the kind where time seemed to slow down.

She stared out the window as the temperature outside dropped even further, the last few people hurrying by in layers of coats and scarves. The city felt almost otherworldly, peaceful and cold, a strange mix of quiet stillness. Y/N took a sip of her cappuccino and leaned back, letting the warmth seep into her bones.

It was then that she heard the door open again, a jingle sounding through the cafe. She glanced up, her eyes scanning the new arrivals. Her gaze landed on the familiar figure—Oscar, her neighbor, walking in with his coat zipped up tight against the cold.

He spotted her right away and waved with a grin. "Hey, Y/N!" he greeted her.

Y/N smiled back, a little surprised to see him here but pleased. “Hey, Oscar. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, I just needed a quick coffee break,” he said, walking up to the counter. He ordered something quickly, then turned back toward her. “How’s your day been?”

She shrugged, feeling a little shy now that they were actually talking. “Good. Just baking and applying for some jobs,” she said, gesturing to her cup. “Needed to get out for a bit. It's freezing out there.”

Oscar nodded, his expression sympathetic. “I know what you mean. It’s cold enough to freeze your breath. I was just out getting some stuff for my place.”

The small talk felt comfortable, and Y/N found herself a little more relaxed with him standing there. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy—just a neighbor.

“Well, it’s nice to see a friendly face,” she said, smiling. “Monaco's a little lonely for me right now, to be honest.”

Oscar smiled back. “I get that. I moved here for work, and it's not always easy to adjust. You’re not alone, though. Everyone here’s pretty friendly.”

Y/N appreciated the sentiment and nodded, taking another sip of her drink. “Thanks, Oscar. It’s good to know.”

As he grabbed his coffee, Oscar gave her a wave before heading to a table by the window. Y/N returned to her thoughts, a warm feeling lingering in her chest. They hadn’t exchanged more than pleasantries, but something about the simple, easy conversation made her feel a little less isolated.

Y/N took another sip of her cappuccino, her eyes still lingering on Oscar as he settled at a table by the window. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a weirdly comfortable interaction, like one of those moments where you just feel like you clicked with someone—even if it was just casual banter about the cold.

And then, as she sat there thinking about how chill the whole thing had been, something inside her clicked.

A rush of confidence hit her like a wave. She wasn’t gonna sit here thinking about it for another second. She stood up, grabbed her cup, and made her way over to Oscar’s table like she owned the place. No hesitation. She slid into the seat in front of him without asking, crossing her arms with a mischievous grin.

“Well, well, you’re sitting so far from me. I was just telling you how lonely I was, and here you are, acting like you’re too cool to sit with me,” she said, eyebrow raised, voice teasing.

Oscar blinked in surprise for a second, clearly not expecting her to come over. But then he chuckled, clearly amused. “Wasn’t trying to be rude. Just thought I’d give you some space.”

“Oh, no space needed,” Y/N shot back, pretending to think for a second. “But if you want, I did make some banana muffins. 25 of them, actually. So, uh, you can have some later, I guess… if you’re lucky.” She leaned back, her tone playful.

Oscar’s grin spread wider, and Y/N could swear she saw his eyes light up a little at the mention of food. “Banana muffins, huh?” he said, leaning forward in his seat, the playful energy between them clear. “You’re really trying to tempt me, huh?”

Y/N smirked. “Maybe. Maybe not. I guess you’ll have to find out later.” She took another sip of her cappuccino, looking around the cozy café for a moment before her eyes landed back on him. “So, what’s your story, anyway? Besides buying coffee and sitting by windows, I mean.”

Oscar leaned back in his chair, clearly comfortable now. “Not much to tell,” he said casually. “Just trying to survive this cold. What about you, Y/N? What’s your deal?”

Y/N just shrugged, feeling more at ease with each passing second. “Oh, you know, baking muffins, trying to find a job, avoiding getting too lost in the city…” She shot him a quick look. “Honestly, though, Monaco’s a little weird, but I’m getting used to it. It’s quiet, but not the fun kind of quiet.”

Oscar nodded, his smile softening. “I get that. I felt the same when I first moved here.”

They both sat there for a few seconds, enjoying the unexpected company in a way that felt surprisingly easy for a random Tuesday afternoon.

Y/N leaned back in her chair, letting the conversation with Oscar flow naturally as they both sipped their drinks. The winter air outside had only gotten colder, but the warmth from the café made it all feel like the perfect backdrop for the two of them to talk.

“So,” Y/N began, her eyes catching his, a sudden boldness hitting her again. “Since you’re clearly not going to accept my muffin offer until later, how about we do something else next time? You know, before I leave Monaco to escape all the cold?”

Oscar raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Escape the cold, huh? Where would you even go?”

Y/N shrugged, tapping her cup with a playful grin. “Maybe I’ll find a place that has better heating. Monaco’s nice and all, but a little more sunshine wouldn’t hurt.”

“Fair point,” Oscar chuckled. He paused for a moment, then looked at her with that signature, easygoing smile. “I could show you around sometime, if you wanted. Monaco’s got some hidden gems.”

Her heart gave a little skip at his suggestion, but she played it cool. “I’d like that. But I’m not one for getting lost in tourist traps, so it better be good.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not taking you to the usual spots,” he said, leaning back slightly, amused. “I promise. You’ll actually see some of the cool stuff here.”

She smiled, feeling the conversation shifting toward something a little more personal. And then, almost as if it was the next step, Y/N caught herself hesitating, but quickly brushed it off. “Well, if we’re going to plan that, we should probably exchange numbers. You know, in case I want to text you to stop you from taking me to any tourist traps.”

Oscar reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He handed it to her without a second thought.

“Good call,” he said with a teasing grin. “Here you go.”

Y/N took the phone and entered her number, her fingers flying across the screen. She handed it back to him with a smirk. “There. Now you can’t ghost me when I ask for your ‘hidden gem’ suggestions.”

Oscar laughed, saving her number with a nod. “Not planning on ghosting. I’ll make sure you get to see all the cool spots in Monaco.”

Y/N took a sip of her drink, the buzz of the conversation still lingering between them. It felt weirdly easy, and she liked that. “Alright then. It’s a date,” she said with a wink.

“Not sure if it’s a date,” he teased, “but I’ll take it.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, the connection between them feeling a little more real. “Fine, not a date,” she replied, “but when it happens, I’ll hold you to that promise.”

few months timeskip

Over the next few months, Y/N and Oscar settled into an unspoken rhythm. They didn’t see each other often, but when they did, it felt easy. Whether it was quick coffee breaks at the café or a casual text exchange about the best banana bread recipe, they managed to keep in touch.

Oscar, as expected, was always on the move. Y/N had asked him once what he did for work that kept him jet-setting around the world, but his response had been vague. Something about traveling for events and having a packed schedule. She didn’t push for more details, assuming it was some high-level corporate gig or freelance work that required constant relocation. Either way, she didn’t mind. They had their moments, and that was enough for now.

As for Y/N, she had settled into Monaco in a way that felt almost surreal. After a few weeks of relentless job hunting, she’d landed a position at one of the coziest bakeries in the city. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was exactly what she needed—a place to bake, to create, and to lose herself in the comforting scent of fresh bread and pastries.

Her days were now filled with kneading dough, piping frosting, and experimenting with new recipes. The bakery had its quirks, from the slightly eccentric owner who insisted on playing 80s pop music all day to her coworkers who ranged from quiet and reserved to downright chaotic. Somehow, it all worked. Y/N found herself laughing more, learning more, and slowly but surely, calling Monaco home.

Outside of work, Y/N was finally starting to build a life for herself. Some of her coworkers had become fast friends, dragging her out of the kitchen and into the buzzing nightlife Monaco had to offer. From late-night drinks at chic rooftop bars to dancing under neon lights at clubs tucked away in narrow streets, Y/N found herself embracing a side of life she hadn’t tapped into before.

It was one of those rare free days where Y/N could relax and enjoy the slowly warming Monaco weather. The gentle breeze carried in through the slightly cracked window, and the temperature hovered at a perfect 65 degrees—just cool enough to make the indoors cozy but warm enough to remind her that summer was around the corner.

Her kitchen counter was a controlled chaos of melted chocolate, parchment paper, and a vibrant pile of freshly washed strawberries. She’d decided on a whim to make chocolate-covered strawberries—a light, summery treat that felt perfect for the day. At first, it had been fun, methodically dipping each strawberry into the glossy chocolate and adding a drizzle of white chocolate for flair. But somewhere along the way, she’d gotten carried away.

When she stepped back and looked at her work, she let out a soft laugh. “This is... way too many strawberries,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head. She grabbed one and took a bite, the sweetness of the strawberry perfectly balancing the richness of the chocolate.

As she finished the last one, her gaze fell on a smaller bowl she’d unconsciously filled. Without thinking, she began packing it up to bring to Oscar. It had become second nature by now—whenever she baked, she always set some aside for him. But as she made her way to the door, bowl in hand, she paused.

Her mind caught up to her actions, and she froze, staring at the door. “Wait... he’s not even home,” she muttered, groaning softly. Of course, she knew Oscar was traveling. He always was. So why had she automatically prepared something for him like he’d just be next door?

She stared at the bowl, her cheeks burning as the realization hit her. “Oh my god, I miss him,” she whispered to herself, the words making her cringe as they left her lips. She set the bowl down on the counter and groaned louder, pressing her hands against her flushed cheeks.

The thought swirled in her head, undeniable now that it had surfaced. She liked him—more than as just her friendly, quiet neighbor. She liked him in a way that made her heart race and her brain short-circuit.

She groaned again and began pacing the room. “No, no, nope. I am not catching feelings for a guy I barely know,” she muttered. But even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t true. They’d been building something—small moments of connection over the past few months that had left her looking forward to every knock on the door or text message.

With a huff, she grabbed her phone and typed out a quick text:

y/n : when are you coming home??

She hit send before she could overthink it, tossing the phone onto her couch and flopping down beside it. The May breeze drifted in, carrying the scent of spring flowers, but Y/N couldn’t shake the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “This is going to be... complicated,” she muttered to herself, covering her face with her hands.

Y/N’s phone dinged, cutting through her spiraling thoughts. She sat up quickly, snatching the device from where it had landed on the couch. Her heart did a little flip as she saw Oscar’s name pop up on the screen. She unlocked it to read his response:

oscar : I’ll be back in like 2 weeks but only for a bit—what’s up? 👀

She stared at the message, a small smile tugging at her lips. Of course, he’d throw in the eyeball emoji—it was such an Oscar thing to do, always mixing casual with a bit of humor.

For a moment, she debated how to respond. She couldn’t just say, Oh, nothing, I just made too many chocolate-covered strawberries and realized I might like you—that would be mortifying. Instead, she opted for something neutral, a safe middle ground:

y/n : Oh, no reason. Just wondering! Hope it’s not too hectic for you.

As soon as she hit send, she groaned softly, leaning back against the couch. That was a lie, but what else could she say? She put her phone down and rubbed her temples, trying to ignore the sudden burst of warmth in her chest. Two weeks wasn’t that long, right?

Still, the thought lingered in her mind: she’d never been this excited for someone to come home before.

two week timeskip

Two weeks had passed in a blur, the days slipping by faster than Y/N anticipated. The Italian Grand Prix had wrapped up over the weekend, and Monaco was buzzing with excitement for the upcoming race. The city had been transforming in preparation—barricades going up, streets morphing into a circuit, and the harbor becoming a sea of luxury yachts.

Y/N hadn’t seen or heard much from Oscar since his text, but she’d been counting down the days. He’d said he’d be home this week, and while she wasn’t exactly waiting by her door, she had taken it upon herself to have some baked goodies ready. Just in case.

A tray of brownies sat cooling on her counter alongside a tin of lemon cookies, and she was busy wiping down her kitchen counters when a knock echoed through her apartment.

Her first instinct was casual curiosity—probably her neighbor asking to borrow something or the package delivery guy. Without overthinking, she grabbed a towel to dry her hands and headed to the door, opening it mid-yawn.

And there he was.

Oscar stood on the other side, casual as ever in a hoodie and jeans, his hair slightly messy, and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His expression was warm, a soft smile playing on his lips as he raised a hand in greeting.

“Hey,” he said, his voice calm, like it hadn’t been two weeks since they last spoke.

Y/N blinked, gripping the door frame for a second. She’d spent days prepping treats for his arrival, imagining this exact moment, and now her brain decided to freeze. “You’re here?” she blurted, as though he wasn’t standing directly in front of her.

His smile widened, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. “Yeah, I figured I’d drop in unannounced. Hope that’s cool.”

She shook off her surprise, stepping aside to let him in. “Uh, yeah, obviously. Come in!”

Oscar stepped inside, glancing around her apartment like he always did, his eyes eventually landing on the counter full of baked goods. He raised an eyebrow and gestured toward it. “You bake for me, or is this just, like, an everyday thing?”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up as she quickly shut the door. “I mean... maybe a little of both?” she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “I wasn’t sure when you’d show up, so I figured better safe than sorry.”

He laughed, dropping his bag by the couch. “You’re unbelievable. You know that, right?”

“Is that a thank-you?” she teased, crossing her arms with a smirk.

Oscar plucked a cookie off the tray, taking a bite and humming dramatically. “That’s me saying you’re way too nice to me. This is amazing, by the way.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips anyway. Seeing him standing there, relaxed and happy, filled her with a warmth she didn’t quite know what to do with.

Oscar finished the cookie and grabbed another without asking, leaning casually against her counter like he belonged there. “So, what’ve you been up to? Still baking up a storm every day?”

Y/N smirked, grabbing the tray of brownies and cutting them into perfect squares. “Pretty much. Got to keep the bakery stocked and the bills paid somehow. Plus, it’s Monaco—people are weirdly obsessed with pastries here. Speaking of, how was Italy? Or wherever you were this time?”

Oscar hesitated, his chewing slowing down. “Uh, yeah. Italy was... busy. Lots of... work.”

She raised an eyebrow, catching the slight awkwardness in his tone. “Work? You’re always traveling for this mystery job of yours. You must be a spy or something.”

His laugh came a little too quickly, and he avoided her gaze by grabbing a brownie. “Yeah, something like that. I’d tell you, but then I’d have to... you know.” He made a mock gun gesture with his fingers, winking playfully.

Y/N snorted. “Very convincing. Totally not suspicious at all.”

Changing the subject, Oscar gestured toward the goodies she’d prepared. “You’re going to spoil me, you know that? Showing up with treats, stocking your place with more of them... You’re setting a dangerous precedent.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Y/N teased, nudging him gently as she carried the brownies to a tin for storage. “I only bake extra when I’m bored.”

“Or when you miss me,” he added, grinning mischievously.

Her hands froze for a split second, her cheeks heating up as she quickly turned back to the brownies. “In your dreams,” she muttered, but the way her voice wavered slightly made him chuckle.

Oscar didn’t press further, instead grabbing a glass of water and perching on the armrest of her couch. “So, the monaco grand prix coming up,” he said casually.

“Yeah, the whole city’s already turning into one big construction zone,” Y/N replied, plopping down onto the couch next to him. “Feels like everyone’s losing their minds over it. What’s the big deal? Is it, like, a festival or something?”

Oscar blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise before quickly recovering. “Uh, yeah, kind of. It’s... a big event. Happens every year.”

She nodded, leaning back into the cushions. “Well, hopefully, it’s not too crazy. Are you staying for it?”

“Yeah, I’ll be around,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “At least for a bit. But it gets hectic, so I might disappear again.”

“Classic Oscar,” Y/N said with a playful roll of her eyes.

“Hey, I’m here now, aren’t I?” he countered, nudging her with his elbow.

“You are,” she admitted, glancing over at him. Their eyes met briefly, and for a second, the air between them felt heavier, like something unspoken lingered just beneath the surface.

Before she could dwell on it, she cleared her throat and stood up. “Anyway, brownies are cooling, cookies are packed, and now you have snacks for however long you’re staying.”

Oscar smirked, leaning back and stretching his arms behind his head. “And here I thought you just liked having me around.”

Y/N grabbed a pillow from the couch and lightly tossed it at him. “Don’t push your luck.”

He caught the pillow effortlessly, laughing. “Fine, fine. But seriously, thanks. It’s nice being back. Even if it’s just for a bit.”

Her smile softened, and she nodded. “Yeah. yeah.”

The evening carried on in easy conversation, the kind of flow Y/N had come to enjoy when Oscar was around. He had a way of making the hours slip by without her even realizing it.

At some point, she found herself sitting cross-legged on the floor while Oscar took up most of the couch, recounting a chaotic story about a “work trip” that involved a delayed flight, a misplaced bag, and someone accidentally ordering 40 sandwiches. He was animated as he spoke, using hand gestures and exaggerated expressions to emphasize every twist and turn.

“So, there I was,” Oscar said, his voice growing serious, “stuck with 40 ham and cheese sandwiches at 3 a.m., wondering if this was some kind of cosmic punishment.”

Y/N burst into laughter, clutching her stomach as tears formed in her eyes. “You’re kidding. Please tell me you ate at least one.”

“Of course, I did,” he replied, grinning. “I ate five. And then I passed out on a bench because there was nowhere else to sit. Absolute rock bottom.”

Y/N shook her head, still laughing. “You live such a weird life. Sandwich catastrophes at 3 a.m. while traveling the world for your super-secret job? Must be exhausting.”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, it’s a lot sometimes. But I guess I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

There was something in his tone, a fleeting moment of vulnerability that made her pause. She wanted to ask more, to dig deeper, but she hesitated. She didn’t want to ruin the lighthearted mood.

Instead, she grinned and teased, “Well, if you ever need someone to help you through another sandwich crisis, you know where to find me.”

Oscar laughed, tossing a couch cushion at her. “Noted. You’re officially on my emergency sandwich team.”

The sound of their laughter filled the room, and for a while, everything felt easy and uncomplicated.

A little later, after the plates were cleared and the leftovers tucked away, Oscar stood by the door, his duffel bag back in hand.

“Thanks for letting me crash your evening,” he said, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“Crash? Please, I basically invited you the second I opened the door,” Y/N replied, smirking.

He smiled, lingering for a moment. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said softly, leaning against the doorframe opposite him. “Don’t forget to grab some of the cookies on your way out. And the brownies.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to fatten me up or something?”

“Maybe,” she teased. “It’s part of my evil plan.”

He chuckled, reaching out to ruffle her hair before stepping into the hallway. “See you soon, Y/N.”

As the door clicked shut behind him, Y/N stood there for a moment, her heart fluttering in a way she wasn’t quite ready to admit.

The week passed quickly, the anticipation of the Monaco Grand Prix hanging in the air. The city was buzzing with energy, but Y/N kept herself busy at work, focusing on perfecting her recipes and keeping her mind off the person who had quickly become a constant presence in her thoughts.

But no matter how busy she kept, she couldn’t help but wonder when she’d see him again—and if things between them would ever shift into something more.

As the Monaco Grand Prix loomed closer, Y/N found herself noticing the increased buzz around the city. Banners and posters for the event were plastered on every available surface, and crowds started trickling in. Y/N had no idea what all the fuss was about, aside from the fact that everyone seemed excited.

Oscar had been texting her throughout the week, and she’d been looking forward to catching up with him again. She was in the middle of prepping a new batch of pastries when she heard a familiar knock on her door.

“Hey,” she greeted, opening the door to find Oscar standing there, looking casual in a tee and shorts, clearly just back from a training session.

“Hey yourself,” he replied, stepping inside. “How’s it going?”

“Busy as always,” Y/N said, wiping her hands on a towel. “But I’m managing. The bakery’s been crazy with all the tourists. You’d think I was selling gold instead of cookies.”

Oscar chuckled. “Yeah, Monaco gets a little nuts this time of year.” He glanced around, then looked back at her with a grin. “You know, with the Grand Prix coming up, I was thinking—you should totally come with me this weekend. I’ll be around, and I could use some company. I’m pretty sure you’ve never seen anything like it.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued but not sure what he meant. “The Grand Prix? What is that, like, a huge concert or something?”

Oscar blinked, surprised by her response but quickly recovering. “Uh, no, not really. It’s... um, a big race.”

“A race?” Y/N echoed. “Like cars?”

“Yeah, like super-fast cars,” Oscar explained, trying not to laugh. “Formula 1 cars. It’s kind of a big deal around here.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly. “Wait, so this race is happening in the city?”

“Yep,” he said, nodding. “And it’s one of the biggest races of the season. You should come check it out. It’s a whole experience.”

She hesitated for a moment, trying to process the idea. “I mean, sure, why not? I could use a little break from the bakery chaos. But I’m warning you, I’ll probably get lost in the crowd or something.”

Oscar grinned, clearly pleased. “I’ve got you covered. You won’t get lost, I promise. Plus, I’ll introduce you to a few people, show you the ropes. It’ll be fun.”

Y/N smiled, feeling a little bit nervous but mostly excited. “Okay, okay. I’m in. This better be worth it though. I still don’t quite get why people are so obsessed with fast cars but... I’m trusting you on this one.”

Oscar laughed. “Don’t worry, you’ll get it once you see it. It’s kind of... a big deal.”

Y/N chuckled along with him. “Alright, Mr. Big Deal. I’ll be there. Just try not to get too race car driver on me while I’m there, okay?”

Oscar flashed her a teasing grin. “No promises.”

grand prix weekend

As Y/N walked toward the spot where she and Oscar had agreed to meet, her eyes wandered over the bustling atmosphere of the Monaco Grand Prix. The crowds, the cameras, the fancy cars, and the buzz of excitement around every corner... it was a lot to take in. But then her gaze landed on something that made her stop in her tracks.

A massive banner stretched across the track, featuring none other than Oscar Piastri. His face was larger than life, his cool expression and trademark cap making him look effortlessly slick.

Y/N blinked twice, then rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. But there it was, Oscar in full glory, with the words "Oscar Piastri: Formula 1 Driver" plastered across the banner in bold letters. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, and she felt her stomach drop.

She stared at it, mouth slightly open, her brain short-circuiting as the pieces finally clicked together. “Wait… Oscar? Formula 1? That Oscar?” She repeated the words in her head like a mantra, trying to wrap her brain around it.

Her eyes darted from the banner to the people around her, and suddenly everything clicked in a dizzying rush:

Oscar Piastri... was a famous Formula 1 driver.

That meant—wait, no—that meant she had been casually baking cookies, banana muffins, and chocolate-covered strawberries for someone who was literally famous?! She had been living next door to a real-life celebrity and hadn’t even known it?? And… she was actually crushing on him?

Her mind was doing a full-on loop-de-loop. How had she missed this? How did she not realize that this guy who always wore cool clothes, who was constantly traveling, who had fans… was the same person she’d been baking for like it was no big deal? Was this… was this a dream?

She started internally panicking. What do I do now? She had been baking for a guy who was in the public eye—what did that even mean for them? Did she just like someone who everyone else liked too? Is that even a thing? Was she seriously living next door to someone who raced for real in Formula 1?! She was losing it.

At that moment, she felt like she might spontaneously combust from the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Her stomach flipped, and she had to press a hand to her forehead, trying to keep it together. “Oh my god, Y/N. Get it together,” she whispered under her breath.

Just as she was trying to regain her composure, she spotted Oscar coming into view, looking effortlessly cool as usual, his sunglasses perched atop his head as he walked toward her. His face broke into a grin when he saw her.

“Hey, you okay?” Oscar asked, noticing the slightly shell-shocked look on her face. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Y/N blinked a few times, forcing herself to smile, but her mind was still reeling. She barely managed to get out a normal response. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, her voice a little too high-pitched for her own liking. “Just… uh, just saw something… interesting.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow, looking at her with mild curiosity. “Interesting? What did you see?”

Y/N panicked for a second. She couldn’t tell him she just discovered he was basically famous and was now spiraling over it, right? She gave herself a quick mental shake. “Uh, yeah, just, uh, a banner,” she said, gesturing vaguely toward the giant image of him from earlier. “And, um… I just realized that… I, uh, live next to someone famous. Which is, like… wild.”

Oscar blinked, clearly not expecting that response. “Ohhh, yeah, that’s a thing. I mean, you’ve been living next to a race car driver. That’s gotta be weird, huh?”

Weird didn’t even begin to cover it, but Y/N just laughed, even though it sounded a little forced. “I guess? It’s just... a lot to process. You really are famous, huh?”

Oscar chuckled at her expression, clearly amused. “You could’ve asked, you know. But yeah, I guess I am,” he said casually, as if being on giant banners was just part of his daily routine.

Y/N groaned, feeling a rush of heat on her cheeks. “I feel like such an idiot,” she muttered, half to herself.

Oscar laughed, clearly oblivious to the full extent of her internal freakout. “Nah, you’re good. I’m just glad you’re here. Let’s enjoy this whole thing together.”

But Y/N could barely focus on anything except the fact that she had been baking for someone famous. This was too much.

As they continued toward the track, Y/N’s thoughts swirled in a thousand directions. She liked him, but now she had to figure out how to deal with the fact that she liked someone who was literally in the spotlight. Was it even okay to have a crush on someone who had so many eyes on him? She didn’t even know what to do with that knowledge yet.

And as they entered the paddock, Y/N had a feeling this weekend was going to be a lot more intense than she ever expected.

Y/N had barely been able to wrap her head around the fact that she was actually sitting in the heart of the action—inside Oscar’s team’s box in the garage, watching the practice and qualifying sessions unfold in front of her eyes.

Oscar had been in and out, prepping for his runs, chatting with the team, and making sure everything was in top condition. He had that natural, focused energy about him, and it was hard to look at him without being amazed by how effortlessly cool he was under pressure.

Y/N, on the other hand, was absolutely blown away by everything. The speed of the cars, the noise, the sheer intensity of it all—it was like nothing she had ever experienced. The walls of the garage were lined with equipment, the hum of activity filled the air, and people were buzzing about with headsets and clipboards, all focused on their roles. But even with all the chaos, Y/N's attention kept drifting back to Oscar.

“Don’t worry, I won’t crash,” he joked, noticing the look on her face as he grabbed his helmet and prepared to head out.

Y/N managed a nervous laugh, trying to calm the fluttering feeling in her chest. “You better not,” she teased, though she was pretty sure it was more for her own peace of mind than anything else.

Oscar shot her a grin before heading out to the car, and Y/N couldn’t help but watch with wide eyes as he slipped into the cockpit. The cars revved to life, the unmistakable sound of the engines vibrating through the garage. Oscar’s car was a blur as he took off down the track for his first practice lap.

She couldn’t help but feel a weird mix of awe and pride. That’s Oscar, she thought, barely able to keep her jaw from dropping. He was out there on the track, racing like it was second nature. The guy who had been chilling in her kitchen, eating cookies, was now doing something so epic, it didn’t even seem real.

As Oscar tore through the circuit, Y/N’s eyes stayed glued to the monitors in the box. His lap times popped up in front of her, and she felt a nervous, excited energy pulse through her. She didn’t know much about Formula 1, but she could feel the intensity of it all.

“Look at him go,” she muttered to herself, completely captivated by the raw speed and precision. It was like watching someone glide on air—only way faster, and way more intense.

The minutes flew by, and soon enough, Oscar’s car zipped back into the pits, and he jumped out, helmet off, a grin on his face. Y/N couldn’t help but smile back, her heart racing in sync with the adrenaline of the day.

“You’re amazing,” she said as he walked over, still catching his breath from the run.

Oscar gave a modest shrug, though the grin never left his face. “It’s all in the details,” he said with a wink. “But, yeah, it feels pretty good.”

Y/N shook her head, still processing how cool the whole thing was. “You’re insane,” she laughed, feeling a mix of admiration and a bit of disbelief at the whole experience.

Oscar leaned against the garage wall, looking at her. “You’ve got the best seat in the house, you know?”

She smiled, feeling her chest tighten at the compliment. “Yeah, I can’t believe I’m actually here. It’s… it’s all a bit much, honestly.”

Oscar chuckled. “Well, get used to it. You’ll be seeing a lot more of this.”

Y/N just nodded, still wide-eyed. There was so much she was still processing—how she’d gone from living next to a normal guy to sitting in a garage at the Monaco Grand Prix watching him race. It was wild. And somehow, incredibly thrilling.

Then, without any warning, Oscar took a small step closer to her. The next thing Y/N knew, his hand was on her cheek, pulling her into a kiss that was both unexpected and electric.

She froze for a split second, her eyes wide in shock. Her heart pounded in her ears. It was quick, but it was enough to send a wave of dizziness through her. The kiss was soft, lingering just a moment longer than she could’ve imagined, before Oscar pulled back with a mischievous smile.

Y/N stood there, stunned. Her heart was racing, and her mind was reeling. The cameras around the garage had caught the whole thing, and within seconds, a replay flashed across the monitors, broadcasting the moment live for all to see.

Oscar’s grin widened, clearly aware of the reaction. “Guess I’m full of surprises,” he teased, his voice low, his eyes never leaving hers.

Y/N blinked, still processing what just happened. Her cheeks were burning. “What the—”

But before Y/N could say anything else, Oscar's grin grew wider as he looked up at the screen. "Well, that's gonna be on TV now, huh?"

Y/N's eyes snapped to the monitors, and her stomach dropped. The kiss, clear as day, was playing across the screens for everyone to see. Her face turned beet red.

"Seriously?" Y/N muttered, still trying to process it. "That just... happened. On TV. Wow."

Oscar chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Well, that’s out there now. You good with that?”

Before Y/N could answer, she leaned in, surprising him with a kiss. It was quick but full of impulse, a way to make things feel less chaotic and more... real. When she pulled away, she didn’t flinch or apologize—she just gave him a small grin.

Oscar blinked in surprise for a moment, his lips curling into a grin. “Guess you weren’t planning on waiting, huh?”

Y/N shrugged casually, unfazed. “Guess not.”

Oscar let out a low laugh, his eyes never leaving hers. “No going back now.”

Y/N shook her head, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Guess not."

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

taglist : @heluvsjappie @awritingtree @steamy-smokey @alex-wotton @ssarqhxo @rainy-darling @mymilkshakefun @hs2016 @linnygirl09 @akulici

[servndipityz]

namgyu with alternative reader? perchance.. smut🫶🫶😁

a/n ── i'm so nervous about this one! i hope i didn't do a terrible job on portraying alt culture (i know nothing about it). i kinda tried to make it not super specific so anyone can feel identified. again, sorry if it's lowkey bad. it's also my first time writing smut, believe it or not, but i've had years of experience reading it so i don't think it's that bad. enjoy :)

STRIPPED

warnings ── smut, +18 MDNI!!! porn w plot. drug usage, sex under the influence, sex in a club, fingering, orgasm denial, degradation, light choking, kinda brat taming? p in v, unprotected sex, creampie.

word count ── 4.6k

he'd ended up there. of course, he'd ended up there. only someone as unlucky as him could wind up at some fucking goth party. or punk. or… whatever. he didn't really care about the whole thing—the dramatic makeup, the dyed hair, the incredibly loud music blaring through the club. none of it.

nam-gyu had envisioned a chill night on his free day, but no. of course, his co-worker had to get sick. of course, nam-gyu owed him money for the pills he'd given him last week. of course, he had to cover for him that night.

and, of course, it was alternative night at club pentagon. usually, his co-worker handled these kinds of nights—special events, themed parties, all that.

what did nam-gyu know about alternative culture anyway? he wondered the same thing as he weaved through the crowd, making sure everyone was having a good time, keeping an eye on bar sales.

so far, he'd been stepped on twice—not too bad, except when it came from one of those platform boots everyone seemed to be wearing. those hurt like hell. but at least the night was going smoothly. for now.

so good, in fact, that nam-gyu figured it was time for a drink. he'd been working for hours, making sure this party ran smoothly. he owed that co-worker a lot of drug money, and this was the only way to settle it. it’s not like he’d ever do this out of the kindness of his heart.

he made his way to the nearest counter, resting his elbows on the cool marble as he waited for someone to take his order. he couldn't help but wonder how anyone could actually dance to this loud-ass english music that sounded more like screaming. he'd take the regular techno dj any day.

meanwhile, you finished pouring a vodka red bull and handed it off to yet another customer. that's when you noticed him.

he stood out—not in a good way.

hunched over the counter, inspecting it like he might find some cocaine stuck in it (which, honestly, he probably would if he looked hard enough), looking like a wet rat. his clothes gave him away. who even let him in like that? plain black shirt, black jeans, a couple of rings.

he looked up as you approached.

his first thought was that your leather top made your tits poke out. his second was that, without all that emo makeup, you'd actually be pretty cute.

his third was what the highest-alcohol-content drink he could order was.

he opened his mouth to ask, eyes flicking to the bottles behind you—

but you spoke first.

"you're ruining the vibe, man."

he frowned, caught off guard.

you just raised an eyebrow, speaking over the loud music. "i said, you're ruining the vibe."

"i'm not doing anything," he scoffed, annoyed. he just wanted to order his damn drink. last thing he needed was some lecture.

"exactly," you said. "you don't belong here. what are you even doing?"

not like you actually cared. you were here to do your job, bartend, make money, go home. but this guy—standing there, stiff shoulders, sharp jawline, judging everything and everyone, probably without even realizing it—looking at you like that, eyes dragging over you like you were some kind of curiosity—

yeah. he rubbed you the wrong way.

being alternative, you already got judged enough. the last thing you needed was someone doing it at an alternative party.

he frowned even further. "i'm here to work. not that it's any of your business."

that caught you off guard for a second. "you work here?" your head tilted, curiosity slipping into your tone. you leaned over the counter, the neckline of your top shifting just a little lower. who knew—if this guy was someone important, you had to use all your charms. especially after being so rude. "i've never seen you around, and i always bartender at these kinds of parties."

his gaze flickered down your cleavage before snapping back to your eyes. but you saw it. the way his jaw clenched, the way he suddenly looked more annoyed than before—like he was mad at himself for looking.

"i'm not thrilled either," he mumbled, clearly uninterested in conversation. "just covering for a friend. now, could you actually do your job and get me something to drink?"

you bristled at his tone, raising a brow as you turned to the shelves of bottles. "jeez, someone's grumpy. what can i get you?"

in reality, nam-gyu wasn't grumpy. well, he was, but that was just how he was. it was just... for some reason, you made him nervous. the girls he usually dealt with at clubs were boring bitches trying to get a VIP card or whatever drugs he had in his pocket.

you were the opposite. rude. annoying. and he didn’t like that. but for some reason, it made his blood rush somewhere else, clouding his brain.

"just give me a shot," he said after a pause. "something strong."

you turned your head slightly, a smile playing on your lips—the kind that sent a shiver down his spine. you walked back to the counter, reaching for a bottle hidden underneath.

"drinking on the job?" you asked while pouring the liquid into a shot glass, then casually grabbing a second one.

nam-gyu let out a short, amused huff. if drinking was the worst thing he’d done on the job, he’d be in a much better place. but he watched curiously as you poured the second shot, his eyes flicking up through his lashes, brow slightly raised.

"what?" you asked playfully. "if you’re doing it, so can i."

you finally set the bottle back and raised your glass. he mirrored you, his eyes never leaving yours. there was something in his expression—almost a smile. you entertained him.

"cheers," you said, clinking your glass against his before downing the shot in one go. he followed suit, setting the glass back on the counter, suppressing a grimace at the sharp burn of alcohol.

“so,” you said, clearing your throat slightly after the shot. “who’s the friend you’re covering for?”

nam-gyu said the name, and your eyes widened.

“that junkie, huh?” you smirked. he chuckled. “yeah, i know him. he’s a little more talkative than you, though.”

nam-gyu narrowed his eyes. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“nothing. it’s okay to be shy.” your voice was innocent, teasing, calculated. you'd decided that you'd had enough, that you might as well have some fun. “anyway, my shift’s almost over. wanna get out of here?”

“i’m not shy.” he sounded offended, then glanced away, considering your offer. “and i told you, i’m working.”

you huffed. “fine. just needed someone to smoke this with." you reached into your back pocket and pulled out a tiny zip-lock bag filled with greens. "guess i'll have to find somebody else."

now that caught his attention. maybe almost as much as your exposed skin did. suddenly, he was interested. but also suspicious.

“what do you have?” he asked, leaning slightly over the counter, his voice lower, more serious.

“your junkie friend gave it to me for a gig i did. said it’s good shit.” you shrugged, playing it cool, acting uninterested—like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing. and he took the bait.

“why would you wanna share it with me?” he still sounded wary, but there was something else in his tone now. curiosity. maybe even something close to interest.

you groaned dramatically. “look, i’m heading to the staff room. you coming or not?” you said, already turning away, signaling to your co-worker that your shift was over.

now, nam-gyu didn’t need weed. not exactly. he could probably find ten of those zip-lock bags hidden in his place, forgotten in favor of other, harder drugs. but he also wasn’t the kind of guy to say no to free drugs.

especially not from such a petty girl.

you grinned to yourself as you felt him rush to walk behind you, trailing after you through the club like he didn’t know the way like the back of his hand.

as you reached the hallway leading to the staff room, nam-gyu couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on your half-ripped fishnets, the way they framed your legs under that short black skirt. was he here for the weed or for you? he wasn’t really sure, and he didn’t care much.

you finally reached the door, slipping past a few couples too caught up in each other to notice, and he shut it behind him. the staff room was small, dingy, and reeked of bleach and cigarette smoke, but you still sank onto the worn-out sofa next to the table like it was the most comfortable place in the world.

you leaned back, stretching your legs out just enough for your skirt to ride up slightly. not too much—just enough to make him notice. and he did.

nam-gyu stood near the door for a second, like he was reconsidering this, before scoffing to himself and dropping onto the couch beside you. he was close, not touching, but enough that the warmth of him was noticeable. enough that when he exhaled, you could feel the faintest brush of his breath against your shoulder.

"roll it," he said, nodding at the bag in your hand.

you raised an eyebrow. "you're really bad at asking nicely, huh?"

he just looked at you, serious. "you’re really bad at shutting up."

that made you laugh. he was watching you now—really watching you—as you pulled out the papers, fingers working effortlessly, licking the edge just to see his reaction. you weren’t disappointed. his jaw flexed again, his eyes dark, tracking your every move like he was trying to pretend he didn’t care. like he wasn’t already leaning back, manspreading, trying to act like he had the upper hand here.

cute.

you tucked the blunt between your lips, lighting it, taking a slow drag before passing it to him.

nam-gyu hesitated, just for a split second, then took it, bringing it to his mouth. his fingers brushed yours in the handoff, and it was stupid how that tiny touch sent something sharp down your spine. or maybe it was just the way he inhaled, head tilting back, exposing the sharp line of his throat as he exhaled, smoke curling lazily from his lips.

you licked yours.

the weed hit, slow and warm. the music outside was muffled, the sounds of the party fading into the background, leaving only this—dim lighting, the scent of smoke and alcohol and something else, something charged.

"you always do this?" nam-gyu asked after a beat, voice lower, lazier. "lure random guys into the staff room for a smoke?"

you smirked, tilting your head. "only the rude ones."

he huffed, shaking his head, but you saw the corner of his mouth twitch like he was trying not to smile. he passed the blunt back, his fingers lingering just a second longer this time. you let them.

the room felt smaller. warmer.

"you always this uptight?" you asked, taking another slow hit. "or just with me?"

nam-gyu let his head roll against the back of the couch, watching you through heavy-lidded eyes. "you always this annoying? or just with me?"

you exhaled smoke, letting it curl between you. "you like it."

he didn’t answer. but he also didn’t look away.

you were both leaning back now, legs almost brushing, breaths slow and measured like you were both pretending not to notice the heat building between you.

nam-gyu wet his lips, head still resting against the couch, eyes flicking to your mouth before he caught himself and looked away. like it was a habit. like he was trying so fucking hard not to slip.

you took one last hit before stubbing out the blunt in the ashtray beside you. then, shifting slightly, you turned toward him, letting your knee press against his thigh. deliberate. slow. testing.

"you're staring," you murmured.

he scoffed, but it came out weaker than he probably meant. his hands clenched into fists on his thighs like he was keeping himself still on purpose.

"you’re high," he muttered, looking away.

"so are you." you tilted your head, voice dropping, playing with the edge of your ripped fishnets like you weren’t watching the way his gaze followed the movement of your fingers. "and what, does that mean i can’t see the way you’ve been looking at me all night?"

nam-gyu exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. "i haven’t been—"

"you have," you cut in smoothly, shifting closer, feeling the warmth of his body now, solid and tense. "you’re mad about it. i can tell."

his jaw clenched.

"tell me," you purred. "are you mad because you don’t like it? or mad because you do?"

his fingers twitched on his thigh. his breathing was heavier, controlled, like he was still fighting it. fighting you.

so you leaned in, lips just close enough to ghost over his ear. "it’s okay," you whispered. "you can touch me."

and that was it.

nam-gyu moved so fast you barely had time to smirk before he grabbed you by the back of the neck, his lips crashing into yours, hot and desperate, all teeth and pent-up frustration. his other hand found your waist, yanking you onto his lap, and fuck—he wasn’t holding back anymore.

he was done fighting it.

and so were you.

his lips were all heat, all pressure—nothing hesitant, nothing soft. you barely had a second to adjust before his teeth caught your bottom lip, his fingers gripping the nape of your neck like he wanted to own you. his other hand, firm on your waist, yanked you flush against him, and fuck—he was hard.

not that he acknowledged it. not that he’d ever admit that you’d done this to him.

your knees bracketed his hips as you settled onto his lap, rolling your hips down just enough to feel him. his grip tightened, nails digging into the meat of your waist. he hissed against your mouth—half warning, half surrender.

“you don’t play fair,” he muttered, lips grazing your jaw now, teeth scraping skin, testing.

your fingers tangled into his hair, tugging hard enough to make him grunt. “neither do you.”

his hands dropped—one to your thigh, sliding under your skirt, fisting in the torn mesh of your fishnets. the other traced the curve of your ass before shoving you down against him again, this time deliberate, a slow grind that made both of you exhale sharp.

his breath was uneven, warm against your throat. “you think i haven’t noticed?” his fingers curled, gripping tight enough to bruise. “the way you’ve been—” a sharp pull at the fishnets, a rip, cool air hitting skin—“fucking teasing me?”

you laughed, half-gasping when his tongue flicked against the pulse at your neck.

his fingers dipped, pressing against the damp heat of your panties, no patience, no hesitation. his other hand was now tangled in your hair, keeping you locked right where he wanted—breath hitching as he rubbed slow, teasing.

then his hand moved, fingers slipping beneath the fabric, warm against your skin, sliding between your thighs. the first touch was barely there, just a single fingertip running along your slit, slow, teasing.

you squirmed, but he didn’t let you go. “look at you,” he murmured, mocking, the pad of his finger dragging over your cunt, pressing just enough to make you shudder. “all that attitude, but you’re already—” he exhaled sharply, felt it before he even had to say it—so fucking wet.

"fuck," he muttered, more to himself than to you, his forehead resting against yours for a second like he was trying to collect himself. but his fingers were still moving, sliding along the slickness of you, testing, exploring, spreading it just enough to make you squirm.

"yeah?" you murmured, voice breathy, teasing. "you like that?"

his only response was a low, quiet curse under his breath before he pressed his fingers in deeper, the tips just barely pushing inside before pulling back, slow and torturous. he was watching you now, eyes dark and half-lidded.

and then, without warning, he slid one finger in, slow but firm, curling just enough to make your breath catch. your nails dug into his shoulders, and his other hand tightened on your hip, holding you steady.

"fuck," you whispered, rolling your hips into his touch, chasing it, needing more.

nam-gyu chuckled, low and smug, and then he added a second finger, stretching you just a little more, fucking you slow and deep with just his hand. the angle was perfect, his fingers pressing against that spot inside you that made your toes curl, made your breath come faster, needier.

"you’re so fucking tight," he murmured, more fascinated than anything, watching the way his fingers disappeared inside you, the way you clenched around them. he twisted his wrist slightly, his palm pressing against your clit as he fucked you with his fingers, setting a rhythm that had you grinding against him, chasing that pressure.

your moan was quiet but desperate, and he smirked, eyes flicking up to yours.

"you always this easy?" he murmured, his voice taunting, dark.

you opened your mouth to snap something back, but then he crooked his fingers just right, pressing deeper, and your words dissolved into a gasp, your head tipping back. his lips were on your throat a second later, sucking, biting, leaving marks you’d have to cover up later.

his pace picked up, fucking you harder with just his fingers, each drag of his palm against your clit sending another sharp wave of heat curling low in your stomach. the room was quiet except for the sound of your breathy moans, his heavier breathing, the slick sounds of his fingers working you open.

"you gonna come?" he murmured against your skin, his voice rough now, strained.

you swallowed hard, your fingers tightening in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. "fuck—don’t stop," you breathed.

nam-gyu felt it—felt the way your body tensed, the way your thighs shook against his hips, the way you were right there, so fucking close. he could see it too, in the way your mouth parted, in the soft, breathy little gasps escaping your lips, the ones you were trying to swallow back like you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

but he wasn’t that generous.

just when you thought he’d let you tip over, when your body clenched down around his fingers so tight he could barely move them, he pulled away.

just—gone.

the sudden loss was so sharp, so fucking unfair, that you let out a frustrated, needy little whine before you could stop yourself, your hips rolling forward, chasing after the feeling, after his hand, anything. but nam-gyu just sat back, bringing his wet fingers up to his lips, slipping them into his mouth with a slow, deliberate hum.

"mm," he mused, tongue flicking over them, eyes locked on yours. "not bad."

"are you fucking kidding me?" you were panting, legs still shaking where you straddled him, your body on fire, needing more, needing anything. your eyes flashed, your hands curling into fists against his chest like you were two seconds away from either punching him or ripping his shirt off.

he just smirked. "what?"

"you—" you gritted your teeth, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. "you’re such a fucking asshole."

nam-gyu chuckled, low and lazy, his hands dragging up your thighs again, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh just to remind you he still had you exactly where he wanted you. "maybe, but you're still here," he murmured. "still dripping for me."

"yeah, because you didn’t let me cum, you dick," you snapped, rocking forward again, grinding against him, feeling the hard, thick press of him through his pants. he was just as worked up as you were, and you could tell—he was trying to play it cool, but his breathing was heavier, his fingers twitching against your skin like he was barely holding himself back.

that made you smirk. "ohhh," you taunted, rolling your hips again, slower this time, watching his jaw clench. "that’s why, huh? you’re hard as fuck and don’t wanna finish before i do."

his eyes darkened, his grip tightening on your hips. "watch your fucking mouth."

"or what?" you leaned in, brushing your lips against his ear, letting your breath tickle his skin. "you gonna do something about it?"

that was it.

one second you were teasing him, playing your little game, and the next you were flat on your back, your spine pressing into the shitty, worn-out couch, his body caging you in. his hand was already shoving your skirt up, fingers hooking into your panties and dragging them down your thighs, not even bothering to be careful.

"you talk too much," he muttered, voice rough, breath hot against your jaw.

"and you do too little," you shot back, just to push him, just to make him snap again.

it worked.

his hand was on your throat, not squeezing, just there, just pressing, just reminding you that he could if he wanted to. his other hand yanked at his belt, the metal buckle clinking as he undid his pants, as he shoved them down just enough to free himself.

fuck.

you’d felt it before, pressing against you, teasing, but now you saw it. thick, flushed, leaking at the tip, the kind of length that made your thighs press together instinctively, made you bite your lip even as you refused to let him see you flustered.

nam-gyu saw it anyway.

"knew you wanted it," he muttered, running the head of his cock along your slit, dragging it slow through your wetness. "acting like a brat, but your pussy’s already begging."

"shut the fuck up and—"

he pushed in, just an inch, just enough to make you gasp, make your nails dig into his arms.

"yeah?" he exhaled sharply, his jaw tight, like he was already holding himself back. "that what you wanted?"

you barely had time to adjust before he thrust forward again, burying himself deep, stretching you in one slow stroke that left your back arching, your head tipping back against the couch.

"fuck—"

nam-gyu groaned, low and almost desperate, his forehead pressing against yours as he bottomed out, as he let you feel every fucking inch of him.

"you feel that?" he murmured, breath ragged, his hips rolling just a little, just enough to make you whimper. "how tight you are? how you’re fucking squeezing me?"

you couldn’t answer. you couldn’t think. all you could do was feel—the way he filled you, the way he stretched you, the way he stayed there for a second, teasing, waiting, making you want it more.

you swallowed, trying to catch your breath. "you gonna move, or you just like teasing your own dick?"

his laugh was low. then he pulled back and slammed into you, knocking the breath from your lungs.

"fuck—"

your back was pressed against the couch, legs spread wide, thighs trembling as he held you open. his body caged yours beneath him, one hand pinning your wrists above your head, the other gripping your hip, keeping you still as he drove into you with rough, unforgiving thrusts. his cock filled you completely—thick, hot, deep—dragging against every sensitive spot inside you, making you gasp with each desperate slap of his hips against yours.

"you gonna be good now?" his voice was low, ragged, dark with amusement. his grip tightened, fingers digging bruises into your skin. "or you still wanna run your mouth?"

you tried. you really did. you opened your lips to snap something back—something mean, something cutting, something to remind him you weren’t easy to break.

but all that came out was a choked moan as he grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his.

"that’s what i thought," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot, his mouth just barely brushing yours, teasing. "bratty little thing—talking shit. but look at you now."

his hand wrapped around your throat, fingers pressing just enough to keep you in place. not squeezing. just controlling. just owning. his other hand slipped between your bodies, two fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles over the swollen bud.

"fuck," you gasped, your hips rolling up instinctively, chasing that pressure, that friction.

nam-gyu chuckled, low and smug. "yeah? you like that?"

you wanted to tell him to fuck off. you really did.

but then he twisted his fingers just right, his cock hitting that spot inside you at the same time, and your body jerked, your moan breaking into something desperate.

"that’s it," he murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw, his pace still brutal, relentless. "don’t fight it. you wanna cum, don’t you?"

"yes—yeah," you panted, nails scraping against his wrist where he held your throat.

he pulled back suddenly, dragging his cock out until only the tip remained, making you whimper at the loss. his fingers abandoned your clit, and before you could protest, he did something worse—something filthier.

he spat.

the wet warmth of it landed directly on your pussy, slick and obscene. your whole body jolted.

"fuck—" your breath stuttered, your back arching as heat shot through you.

nam-gyu groaned at the sight, at the way you clenched, the way your body reacted so instantly, so helplessly.

"you like that, huh?" his voice was thick with satisfaction, his fingers dragging through the mess, smearing it over you, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles.

you shouldn’t. you really shouldn’t.

but the heat in your stomach coiled even tighter.

"say it," he ordered, his voice rough, his cock pushing back inside you, stretching you open again, slow and deep, making you feel every inch. "tell me you fucking love it."

your pride cracked. your body betrayed you.

"fuck—i love it," you gasped.

nam-gyu groaned, his breath hitching, his pace quickening. "good girl."

and then his fingers returned, rubbing messy circles over your spit-slicked clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts, pushing you higher, harder—

you were already close. too close.

"fuck—fuck, i’m gonna cum," you choked out, hips jerking against his hand, against his cock, chasing it. "please—please don’t stop—"

and this time he didn’t.

he fucked you through it, his fingers never letting up, his pace relentless, driving you higher, harder, until it finally snapped—

your orgasm hit like a fucking wrecking ball.

your body clenched down on him so tight he cursed under his breath, his rhythm faltering for the first time. the pleasure crashed over you, your whole body shaking as you moaned through it, loud and wrecked, the sound swallowed by the shitty little staff room.

"fuck—fuck, yeah, that’s it," nam-gyu groaned, his grip on your hips bruising now, his thrusts rough and desperate as he chased his own release. "god, you feel so fucking good—"

he buried himself deep, his breath stuttering, his cock twitching inside you, and then he was coming, his grip tightening, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as he groaned low into your skin.

for a second, all you could hear was the ragged sound of your breathing, the quiet hum of the party outside, the distant bass thudding through the walls.

nam-gyu exhaled, slow and shaky, his fingers tracing lazy circles against your waist, still holding you, still pressed against you.

then he pulled out, groaning at the sight of his cum spilling out of you, dripping between your thighs.

he smirked, dragging a lazy finger through it before pressing it against your lips.

"open," he murmured.

you did.

and fuck, the look in his eyes when you sucked it clean—

you were so fucked.

© servndipityz 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content without my permission.

[vampiriito]

Summer was my first love (JJ Maybank x shy! kook! reader) part 1

A/N: Hi loves! this is my first fic and i just wanna let you know that I'm open to any criticism, but i want you to be able to nice at the same time. This is inspired by my favorite author on here the lovely @featherandferns, her fic daylight was so good and i read all the parts in less than 2 hours. With that being said the plot is completely different but i recommend checking out her works too because she's very talented! this might be a bit long, i wanted to write a slow-burn. Let me know if i managed to do that (┬┬﹏┬┬)

Summary: After getting locked into a closet with a kook girl, JJ Maybank comes to the realization that his animosity towards the spoilt people living on Figure Eight doesn't have to apply to every single one of them.

"Fuck! Seriously?" JJ Maybank's blue eyes meet yours through the frame of your glasses as he sneers at the door which was now shut. Leaving you both stuck together in this small cramped closet. If you weren't panicked cause of the claustrophobic tendencies of your stupid brain, you definitely were now.

You were alone with your 3rd grade crush, and he had no idea, you were a kook, (which he hated,) and one hell of a wallflower person. You've been watching him from a far since you were 9, and it got a little weirder once you could walk around freely and just... take pictures with your camera as your hobby flourished. You were now, glancing shyly between the door and his face, 'he's probably feeling weird being stuck in here with a complete stranger.' you thought to your self, making sure to stick to your corner of the closet.

"What’s your name?" He demanded, his arms crossing over his chest as he leaned against the wall, his eyes flicking over you, studying you. Of course, he would ask that right away, JJ could be direct and kind of an ass most days. And he felt like if he wasn't gonna ask, you weren't gonna speak up first.

Of course he didn't know your name, he wasn't bordering on creepy stalker most days like you were in your free time. Across these years you managed to gather a lot on JJ surprisingly, being quiet and so reserved got you very far, going almost invisible when you went out. It didn't help you were a shutterbug, always taking pictures and people watching, "Y/n.." you responded softly and weakly, adjusting your glasses.

He raised an eyebrow, studying your face for a moment. That name sounded familiar, he could swear he'd heard it before somewhere, the only question was where.

"You're a kook, huh? I should have known." He grumbles, running a hand through his messy dirty blonde hair. You looked so.... soft, and it somehow made him scoff. He hated your kind more often than not, and here he was, stuck in a closet with one.

You nodded, frowning gently. You were aware of his hate and animosity towards the people living on figure 8, but you weren't exactly the picture perfect image of a snarky preppy kook girl. Or so you liked to think anyway.. He looked even more beautiful up close, more defined than what you usually saw through your camera lenses when photographing him. 'Suddenly i feel like a creep being here..' you thought, playing with the hem of your baggy sweater.

His eyes flicked down to your hands as you fidgeted with your sweater, his lips curling up into a subtle smirk. 'How can someone be so shy?' he thought to himself, wondering why you were so nervous.

"You look like you've never talked to a human before." He comments, letting out a soft scoff, and you flinch gently, your eyes snapping up to meet his. He noticed this and his smirk grew a little wider, enjoying that he was able to fluster you.

That's the most JJ thing he could say to someone like you. "i.. well, i don't talk usually." you face palmed internally at the way your words came out. You had the chance to come off as something you weren't given he didn't know you, and you weren't doing a very good job at it. You could've faked being confident and charm him, yet here you were talking like you never had anything to eat in your life.

He lets out a soft scoff as he watches you stumble over your words. There was something he found so weird about you, you were so… different from everyone he encountered on a daily basis. You were shy, quiet, and awkward, not like the sarcastic and arrogant persona that most kooks had. But, he tried to shake the thoughts away, he didn't need to be thinking about you this way, of all people.

"I can tell.." he responds, his accent ringing through slightly as his smirk turned into a slight frown.

There was an awkward silence that fell over the two of you in the cramped closet, the music that played throughout the party muffled by the thick walls. JJ glanced around for a moment, almost bored before his gaze settled back on you. His blue eyes studying you intently, trying to figure you out. The frown on his face remained, 'Why are you so shy?' he thought to himself, biting his tongue before he continued.

"What are you even doing here anyway? You don't seem like the type to be at a party.."

'Got dragged against my will by my very loud and obnoxious best friend here...' you thought to your self, the thought amusing you but of course not letting that mirror on your expression, "I'm sorry?" 'what? dumbass..' you scolded your self mentally. The question was loud and clear.

He raised an eyebrow as he looked you up and down for a moment, wondering if you always spoke in a quiet and awkward way, or if it was just because you were in a small, dark, and very cramped closet with a stranger.

"You heard me. I doubt you'd normally come to a party like this." He repeated, his frown returning to a small smirk as he pushed off the wall to take a hesitant step towards you.

Again, such a JJ thing to say. Your stomach jumped as he took a small step towards you, suppressing the urge to shift awkwardly. All you needed now was to look more awkward than you already were, you acted and sounded like a pathetic dumbass, in front of your childhood crush nonetheless. "i just ended up here.."

He took a few more steps until he stood a few feet away from you. He was towering over you, his 6’1 height compared to your, what he could only guess, 5.2 or 5.3 height. He had to admit, in some weird way, it was amusing being able to fluster you so easily. That was until he noticed there was nowhere really for you to go. The walls of the small closet caged you in, he was blocking your way out of the closet, unless you tried to push him out of the way.

He was quiet for a moment, just studying you as a small smirk returned to his face.

"There's nowhere for you to go.." he teased, taking another step closer, closing the gap between the two of you even more. He noticed you shiver gently and took note of it.

"Are you usually this weird with strangers?" you found yourself asking, surprising even yourself after the words left your mouth. 'caging me in like this wouldn't create a good first impression... he's just lucky I've been in love with him since i was 9.' you thought.

This time it was his turn to be surprised. He was definitely not expecting you to say something so blunt, you were full of surprises. He chuckled softly, taking another small step forward, effectively caging you against the wall. His smirk grew into a wide smile, his eyes studying you intently as he spoke.

"Only when I get stuck in a small crowded closet with them." He was now only a few inches away from you, his eyes studying your face. He was so close, you could take in some of his scent, which somehow matched perfectly with his personality. A mix of weed and the smell of the ocean and sunscreen. You could also now see little details in his face, like his freckled cheeks, and his jawline that looked hard enough to cut glass.

Being able to smell him was a pleasant feeling as weird as that sounded, his scent matching with the way he was completely. The small freckles scattered over his soft skin made you want to be able to take mental photographs. He looked breathtaking up close, even in the dim light of the closet. Like he was some kind of modern day demigod or some bullshit. You hummed gently, turning your body towards the door to try the door weakly, your hand wrapping around the door handle and shaking it with little to no force to actually get it open.

He chuckled at the sad attempt you made of trying to open the door, "It ain't going to open, believe me, I've already tried that." He said, his voice almost a murmur as he leaned against one of the walls of the closet, watching you struggle with the door. His eyes slowly traveled down from your face, down to your hips and to your beat up vans. Strange, he thought. He'd expect someone of your social status to have more expensive looking threads and shoes. Not like a librarian on vacation.

You side glanced up at him, adjusting your glasses. You felt absolutely wrecked, nerves and claustrophobia tugging at your sensitive stomach, it didn't help this closet was dimly lit and smelled like mold. 'What a great setting to interact in for the first time..' you thought bitterly, leaning your back against the wall opposite him.

He kept his eyes on your hips, letting his gaze rake over your body. He felt a weird and small pang of sympathy for you. You looked so small against the wall, and you looked like you were ready to jump out of your skin any moment now. It was different than when he usually had the unfortunate chance of speaking with a kook kid.

"Are you scared of small spaces or somethin' ?" He asked, his voice softer than usual as he spoke.

You nodded mutely in response, your expression probably resembling that of a deer in front of a truck. Sometimes you forgot JJ's voice carried a southern drawl to it, given he never spoke to you. You would hear him when he'd pass you in the school halls while talking to his friends animatedly or when he'd say something snarky in class to the teacher, his voice never directed towards you.

When you nodded, he mentally groaned. That was his luck. He ended up being stuck in here with a kook that was also terrified of small spaces. He let out a sigh, he would have to try and find a way to calm you down, since he was now stuck in this closet with you until whenever someone decided to let them out.

"How in the hell did you even manage to get yourself into a situation like this..?" He questioned, running a hand through his messy blonde hair.

You were asking yourself that question too, but i guess being so easy to push around wasn't really helping your case here. Truth was you were just a collateral victim of a prank which was meant for JJ, getting pushed into the small closet by mistake or just to make it worse for him by locking him up with a complete stranger.

You shook your head shrugging, chewing on your bottom lip nervously. You knew you had to say something, actual words at one point but your mind came up blank. Or your mouth wasn't able to say them out loud.

He let out another soft scoff, knowing deep down this was no accident. Some of his pogue buddies probably set this up just to screw around with him. Although, you didn't seem to know that. You looked genuinely clueless.

"My friends probably did this on purpose..."

He muttered, leaning against the opposite wall to you. He wasn't happy about this situation, especially not being locked in here with a girl for what could be hours. Which he would usually be elated about. But seeing you barely talked or moved, seemingly scared of loud sounds and sudden movements like a small animal, he was aware you weren't gonna makeout any time soon.

He looked you over again, his eyes roaming over your small and fidgety figure. In some weird way, he kind of felt bad for you. You looked so nervous and uncomfortable being stuffed in this dumb closet, and you looked like you didn't belong at this party in the first place.

"What were you even doing here anyway?... this ain't exactly a place a shy girl like you would go on your own free will..." he echoed the question once again, the curiosity and desire to fill the silence stronger than the fact that you were strangers.

"That's because it wasn't my own free will.." you spoke up in minutes of being almost completely silent, your voice small and weak.

He was both surprised and not surprised at your answer. He was surprised that you answered so quickly, but he could have guessed this wasn't your idea.

"Let me guess... one of your loud and obnoxious friends dragged you out here to try and get you to 'have fun'?"

Bingo! You nodded silently again, your eyes darting around his face taking in every detail, hopefully being able to recall every single one of them to draw or paint later.

He grumbled something under his breath. He knew it. From his experience, kooks were always so loud and overbearing. It was what he hated most about them, and yet, you didn't seem like that kind of girl at all... you were quiet and soft spoken, something he hadn't seen in a kook girl since... well, never really. "Figures.. can you not say no to them or somethin’ ?"

You stared at him silently, blinking as you raked your brain for what to say, your eyes narrowed just a hint. You were aware he usually spoke a lot but not this much. Or you were too quiet. You were also way too nervous to speak or think properly, having your lifetime crush speaking to you, like actually.

He was watching you intently, taking note of the expressions that flashed on your face as you tried to come up with an answer. You were obviously nervous, he didn't need to be a mind reader to know that. And there was something else about you... something he couldn't place his finger on. It was weird.

"You look like you're gonna pass out or something..." He commented, watching you closely.

You shook your head 'no', reaching to try the door again. You suddenly didn't feel so lucky you got this rare chance to speak and admire JJ shamelessly given you were stuck in a closet together. You were anxious and feeling like he could see right through you, see all the weird tendencies you had and judge you for being so pathetically in love with him for so long.

He chuckled softly as you tried to open the door, again and again. It honestly reminded him of a small animal trapped in a cage, frantically looking for a way out. Something about the way you were acting amused him. "There ain't no point trying to open it again, trust me, it's stuck good..."

JJ could tell you were anxious, and it was easy to guess why. It was probably terrifying being stuck in a small, dark, cramped closet with him of all people. And judging by how quiet and shy you were, this was probably one of the hardest social interactions you ever had.

"Jesus... can you even speak a full sentence?" He piped up after another few seconds of silence, his smirk returning to his face as he watched you struggle against the door.

You looked to the side, a small frown making its way on your face at his question. 'Not when you're so close to me that i can smell the sea salt water in your hair.' you groaned internally, still silent. You kept your eyes locked with his in the almost dark closet, scolding yourself for not being able to handle social interactions like normal people.

JJ's smirk widened at your expression, you looked like a kicked puppy, it was almost cute. He stood up straight, lazily pushing himself off the wall and slowly making his way towards you. When he was a few steps away from you, he stopped, looking you up and down with a hint of mockery.

"You're a real quiet thing, ain't ya?"

With a few more confident steps, he was now standing just in front of you, leaning his shoulder against the wall. He looked down at you again, his smirk still present on his face. You could almost feel the heat radiating off his body, him being so close. His ocean like scent mixed with the weed smell, filling the closet and making it even harder to breathe than it already was in here.

"You afraid of me or somethin'? "

"No.." your voice rung out without missing a beat this time, a soft and gentle sound as you frowned to your self. You were probably one of the few people who wasn't afraid of JJ. Years of following him from a distance and watching him closely took away the fear factor. If anything he'd probably be afraid of you.

JJ let out a quiet scoff at your answer, an odd response. He had expected you to be as afraid of him given the way you were acting. You were clearly nervous being in a small, dark, and cramped space with a man, yet you weren't afraid of him or his presence.

"You're an odd one then.." He said, his eyes roaming over you again, taking in your small, timid figure.

He was a few inches away from you, towering over your small frame. Being this close to you, he could see more details in your face. How your eyes were framed with small dark eyelashes behind your glasses, how your skin was unnaturally smooth and soft looking, and how your lips looked almost velvety, almost as if they were made of silk. In addition to that, your scent filled his nose now, mixing with his own and the smell of the closet. You actually smelled very good... which definitely wasn't something weird to be thinking. JJ found himself lost in thought the more he looked at you. You looked so... tender and yet the way you were acting, so nervous and small, you looked like a spooked stray dog. It didn't add up in his head, you were probably the first kook girl he had ever met that acted this way, it was making him curious. Just as he opened his mouth to ask something, a loud banging noise echoed from the other side of the door, making you jump slightly, surprised by the sudden sound.

The whole silent staring contest you both had going on was interrupted by a loud sound from the other side of the closet door, almost startling you to death given you were so focused on how beautiful JJ's eyes looked while he studied you intently. You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut for a second, adjusting your glasses and grimacing to yourself.

The sudden sound made JJ roll his eyes, whoever was on the other side of the door was clearly trying to be annoying.

"Oh come on..."

he grumbled, annoyed already by the person who was trying to interrupt. Before he could say anything else, the banging continued once again, this time twice as loud as before, making him grumble another curse underneath his breath. He was beyond annoyed now, a small scowl forming on his face at the constant knocking. He turned around, staring at the small closet door, his hands on his hips as he waited for the knocking again. He was about to say something, but just then, the door was suddenly swung open, making him nearly jump out of his skin.

He let out a surprised noise as he stumbled forward, nearly collapsing to the ground, but he managed to catch himself just at the last moment by grabbing the nearest thing which happened to be the closet wall, next to your head. His heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest, he was breathing heavily, the unexpected event nearly giving him a heart attack. After a few moments he slowly looked up, turning his head to see who had opened the door.

To say he looked surprised would be an understatement. Standing in front of him was none other than one of his pogue buddies, John B, who was smiling and laughing like this was the most fun he had in forever as he looked down at JJ. JJ quickly managed to regain his composure, standing up straight before speaking up:

"Are you tryin' to give me a damn heart attack, John B?"

You were just as startled as JJ was, for a second time in less than 2 minutes nonetheless. Your gaze shifted from looking up at JJ's side profile to the boy standing in the door way of the closet. John B, JJ's best friend since forever, someone you also saw on a daily basis while doing your... usual checking up on JJ. John B also probably didn't know who you were, and you wouldn't be surprised even in the slightest.

John B looked between you and JJ, a smirk slowly forming on his face as his eyes landed on the proximity between the two of them. John B leaned against the door frame, his arms folded over his chest as he spoke up, a hint of mockery in his tone. "Seems like you got yourself into a situation, huh JJ?"

JJ's eyes narrowed at his best friends tone, he immediately knew what he was implying. He shot him a small glare before speaking up, a hint of annoyance in his voice

"Can it, John B... it ain't what it looks like."

John B chuckled at his response, he clearly didn't believe JJ given the awkward and somewhat embarrassing situation the two of you were in. "It sure looks like it though. Locked up in a closet together, all alone. You two got up to anything in here?"

Your eyes darted between the 2 best friends, adjusting your glasses as your gaze landed on John B, his teasing words making your face heat up. The implication of getting up to anything with JJ was enough to probably give 9 year old you a aneurysm, "Excuse me?" you spoke up, trying to sound irritated at his words although you sounded so weak and shy you regretted speaking instantly.

John B chuckled again at your response, clearly enjoying making you both uncomfortable. The way you spoke was so quiet and awkward, it was almost laughable. JJ continued to glare at him, trying to non-verbally tell his friend to shut his damn mouth, but it obviously wasn't working.

"Oh... I see, there's a voice under there, huh? You sound like a damn mouse, girl.. can you speak louder than a whisper?"

He continued to smirk at you, now mocking the softness of your voice. JJ grimaced at what John B had just told you, a pang of guilt suddenly shooting through his chest. He didn't like the way John B was talking to you, in fact, he was getting a little mad that he was being so rude.

"She ain't gotta speak louder. Leave her alone." JJ spoke up, glaring at his friend once again, finding himself defending this stranger.

You looked down, scowling to yourself at his question, now definitely not speaking another word for the rest of the conversation, knowing you'd just slip away once they were distracted. Your finger pushed the frame of your glasses up and down, your eyes fixed on your beat up sneakers. This was certainly one hell of a first impression.

John B held his hands up in mock surrender, clearly enjoying the fact that he was getting both you and JJ annoyed. "Relax man, I was just messing with the poor mouse."

He joked, his eyes still on you, now watching your fiddling. JJ just scowled at him again, silently debating punching his friend square in the nose. The fact that he was making fun of you was bothering him more than it should. He was used to his friend making stupid jokes and being a dick, but he couldn't stand the thought of him mocking you, especially since you were acting nothing but polite and shy.

Mouse? you could see the resemblance i guess, with the small one word answers which sounded like small squeaks from the anxiety. Still, John B was being kind of a dick at the moment which caused your frown to deepen as you debated just making a run for it and disappearing.

John B chuckled quietly, not taking his eyes off you as you fiddled with your glasses. He knew he was being a dick, but he was just enjoying it too much. He suddenly had an idea in his mind, a way to further piss off JJ. With a sly smirk on his face, he spoke again, this time, directed solely at you, ignoring JJ completely. "So, mouse, what's your name?"

'Seriously? neither of them know my name?' you groaned internally, looking up to lock eyes with John B nervously. In moments like these you wished you had at least a bit of semblance of a back bone, and not just clam up like a dumbass, "Y/n.." you answered simply, your expression twitching slightly from having to repeat your name once again. You wanted to roll your eyes in annoyance so badly.

There was something about the way you said your name that made JJ's heart stutter in a way it never had before. It sounded almost magical coming out of your small lips, it was so... mellow, and yet so beautiful. John B's smile widened at your answer, obviously not expecting to get an actual answer and a name at that.

"Huh... nice name. Suits you." He said, his eyes roaming over you again, studying your face to figure out if he knew you or not. He came up blank, probably due to being tipsy.

JJ continued to stay silent, watching the interaction between his best friend and you. He was feeling a weird mix of anger and curiosity as he watched. You looked so much more fragile and unthreatening than he had thought. You were like a small cat, a cute but easily spooked cat. Or maybe a mouse, he wasn't sure which.

You felt awkward suddenly, the 3 of you going silent save from the music coming from downstairs after John B's comment about your name. You looked between them momentarily before stepping forward shyly to signal John B to move out the way so you could escape this weird and sufficiently awkward situation at once.

John B chuckled again as you stepped forward, his eyes following your every move. But just as you were about to slip out of the closet, he suddenly reached a hand out, blocking your way.

"Where do you think you're going, mouse?"

JJ furrowed his eyebrows at his friend's behaviour, he knew exactly what he was trying to do. He was trying to annoy both of you, as well as prevent you from getting away. JJ had had just about enough

"Okay, that's enough John B. Don't you think you've teased the poor girl enough?"

John B sighed dramatically, pouting at JJ's annoyed response. He took a small step back, opening up the doorway once again "You're no fun. I was just having a little fun. Don't take it so seriously, JJ."

As much you enjoyed being in JJ's presence you hated social interactions and you wanted to just find your best friend to tell her that this was a bad idea and you should just skate home. So you took a final glance at JJ, before stepping out of the small cramped closet when John B removed his arm which was blocking your way hesitantly. But stepping out wasn't any better cause you were met with the party, still in full throttle, the music making your head feel weird, weirder than being stuck in a moldy closet with your childhood crush. There were less people on the floor you were on, but it was still crowded enough by drunken couples and some rowdy friend groups to make you feel anxious. This was most definitely a bad idea.

JJ watched you step out of the closet, a small pang of guilt shooting through his chest from knowing you were uncomfortable but now having no way to help the situation. He shot a glare at John B for the 10th time in the last 5 minutes through the doorway, silently warning his friend once again.

"You're a damn dick man. Why did you feel the need to be so rude to her?"

John B just shrugged, looking back at JJ with a sly smile as he replied "Because I thought it would be funny. Besides, I didn't think she'd answer me. I thought she was mute or something."

JJ grimaced, of course John B would find making fun of the shyest person he had ever met, fun. He pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning quietly. He took a deep breath before speaking up again:

"You really can be an annoying bastard, you know that? Sometimes i wonder how you even manage to speak with girls.."

You weaved through the mass of people at the house party, bumping into couples getting busy and grimacing in apology, trying not to stumble over your feet in the cramped space on the staircase. You quickly descended down the stairs, looking for your friend Maisy, to scold her for bringing you here in the first place. Suddenly, a hand on your shoulder stopped you in your tracks. A hand that you recognized, and yet dreaded at the same time. JJ had followed you, and was now stood next to you at the bottom of the stairs.

He gently grabbed your hand, stopping you from walking away. His hand was calloused and rough from years of surfing, yet warm. He spoke up, trying to get your attention over the loud R&B music blaring from the speakers. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

You tensed up from the sudden contact and because well, you thought someone else was grabbing you to pull yet another dumb prank on you, not expecting JJ to follow you and try to talk to you. You shook your head 'no' because as much as you wanted to spend time with him, you knew you'd just clam up and make it weird because this was JJ and you were you.

He noticed how tense you suddenly became once his hand touched you, he couldn't help but silently worry in his head. He wanted to sigh at your immediate response of shaking your head no, but he decided to persist a little more despite not having any reason to:

"Please? I promise I won't make fun of you or anything. I just wanna talk."

"Well, i need to find my friend." you find yourself speaking, although you weren't sure if he heard you over the music or the myriad of sounds and things going on in this house. Really, it was surprising how the neighbors hadn't called the police yet.

JJ leaned closer to you, trying to hear your soft spoken words. He could just barely make out what you had said, but he heard it enough. He looked around for a moment, searching for your friend but not seeing them anywhere in the crowd. But it was a given, since he didn't even know who he was looking for. "Where is your friend? I'll help you look for them."

You shrugged, because you had the same question. Where the hell was Maisy anyway? she disappeared and expected you to what? have fun and party? as if you could do that. Your eyes were fixed on JJ's face, the one you knew and loved through the years, anxiously shifting on your feet at the feel of his big hand still wrapped around your wrist, stopping you from scurrying away.

JJ could sense your anxiousness, he could practically feel the anxious energy coming off your small frame. He subconsciously let his thumb slowly and gently caress your wrist, an attempt to somehow soothe you, even if only slightly. He didn’t like seeing you so anxious.

He suddenly realized that he was still holding your arm, gently keeping you by his side and preventing you from slipping away in the chaos of the house party. He had forgotten in the moment. He looked down at his hand on your arm, "Maybe they went outside.."

You could call her! yeah, you could do that... but what if big mouth Maisy actually showed up and saw JJ Maybank, the dude you had been crushing on since you were a 3rd grader, holding your wrist and actually speaking to you? She'll make this awkward and run her mouth, possibly getting you rejected at the same time. So, you thought it was best to just let him speak to you and then leave you to look for her alone. "What do you wanna talk about with me?" you asked, still quietly, hoping and praying he'd hear you and that you didn't come off as rude.

JJ was a little surprised at the fact that you still stayed by his side after he suggested looking for your friend. He honestly thought you would run off. He mentally shrugged, taking the opportunity to talk to you even more. He turned slightly to look down at you as you spoke, leaning forward to hear you better.

His heart skipped a beat as he heard your quiet voice. That same feeling of both guilt and curiosity ran through him again. How could one voice be so soft and quiet, yet so beautiful at the same time? The thought confused and intrigued him.

He took a moment to register that you had asked him a question, the shock of you actually talking to him making his brain fry for a second or two. He quickly brought himself back to reality, realising that he had to reply.

"I just wanted to apologize. About John B i mean, he's a massive dick, no doubt about that. I told him off.."

"It's okay.." you mumbled smiling slightly, adjusting your glasses with the hand that wasn't in JJ's grip. You actually managed to hold the conversation normally, albeit you were still squeaking out your words.

JJ's eyebrows raised at your smile, his eyes widening slightly. He wasn't expecting you to smile as an answer to his apology, it was the last reaction he had expected. And yet, it was a welcome one. It made him feel better, deep down he felt guilty for his friend's behavior.

He stared at you for another moment, the hand he was using to hold your wrist moving once again, his thumb still slowly caressing your skin. He hadn't even noticed he was doing it this time.

JJ quickly snapped out of the little trance and cleared his throat, speaking up again. He didn’t want to make things weird and freak you out. He could feel John B’s eyes on him, he knew the bastard was watching him from the top of the stairs and silently giggling about the whole thing. He pushed down his annoyance, his eyes moving away from your face and around the room, looking at the other people gathered around them. "You said this party was your friend’s idea, right?"

You nodded silently, glancing around the room for your stupid best friend. You were gonna kill Maisy for disappearing on you like this, especially at a party of this calibre. You tried to ignore how JJ was still holding onto your wrist, now rubbing his thumb over your skin to probably soothe you. It made you feel more nervous and anxious, the urge to bolt even more strong now. You didn't wanna mess it up and make it awkward or worse come off as a creep by staring at him or saying something stupid, although the last part was impossible given you barely spoke.

JJ bit the inside of his cheek as you silently nodded back to his question. He was starting to realize how hard you were to talk to, how shy you were. It made him feel bad. He found himself wishing that he could just hear your voice just a little louder. It was so gentle. It made him want to hear more of it, but he had no idea how to get you to speak more without making you uncomfortable.

He quickly stopped himself from thinking any further, realizing that he was starting to sound like a creep in his own head.

They stood there silently for a couple more seconds, as JJ desperately tried to think of something to say to break the silence without making things weird. He could still feel John B’s eyes on him, silently watching the whole situation and probably having the time of his life.

"So...how come I've never seen you around at school before? "

He tried, even though he knew the answer. He just needed to get you talking.

Ouch. You saw him at school all the time, even took routes around the school just to get to pass by him in the halls and hear him talk so loudly to his friends and laugh. So the question stung a little. You looked up at him, shrugging your shoulders, narrowing your eyes and blinking a couple of times, your brain desperately trying to just block out the sound of the music which was making your lungs feel like they were being shaken up.

JJ mentally cringed as he saw the slightly hurt look in your eyes, he regretted his choice of question immediately. Stupid. Of course you were at school, he saw you at school, he just never seen you with anyone.

He winced as he heard that music change to something even louder. The constant music was starting to grate his nerves.

"Can we go outside for a second? I can't even freaking hear myself think in here."

Your brows furrowed, considering his suggestion. It was a good idea, you could call Maisy, maybe have a cigarette too and let your ears get a break from this loud music blaring in them. So you nodded hesitantly, glancing around one last time in case you magically spotted your best friend.

JJ let out a breath of relief when you nodded your head in agreement. He was glad he didn’t have to try and shout over the music anymore. He turned, pulling gently on your wrist to lead you toward the front door. He weaved through people, avoiding getting into conversations. He was determined to get you alone outside so he could talk to you.

Finally, they made it outside. JJ released your wrist as they reached the front door. He took a deep breath, enjoying the sudden lack of music and the relative quiet (well, aside from the still loud music coming from inside). JJ took a step away from you as he turned to face you.

"Thank god, I thought my ears were gonna bleed with that damn music in there."

'Yeah..' you agreed mentally once again, nodding with a small smile and adjusting your glasses as you stood on the porch, finally able to breathe fresh air, a stark contrast from the muted and sweaty smelling air inside. You needed to start saying words out loud, instead of just answering in your mind.

JJ leaned against the porch railing, stuffing his hands into his pockets. The air was much cooler outside, compared to the stuffy heat that was present inside.

He took a few seconds to study you as you stood across from him. The light from the porch made you look even more softer, if that was even possible. You looked so small in that moment, it made him wonder how you had managed to make it to high school.

He shook himself out of his thoughts, clearing his throat before speaking up again. He couldn’t believe that he was actually talking to you, and the fact that he hadn’t messed it up yet was a surprise to him. He didn’t want to think about how bad he would screw it up in the future.

"So uh...wanna explain why you were hiding in a closet? "

There. A question to get the conversation going. He mentally cursed himself in his head, realizing how stupid the question sounded.

"I got pushed in at the same time as you." You found the courage to speak yay! and not so shaky and quiet either. Maybe it was the fact that he thought you were just hiding in the moldy closet, like an actual mouse, which made you wanna defend yourself. That's what was missing from this situation, for him to think you were an actual dumbass who was hiding in a closet because she was afraid of party sounds.

JJ found himself chuckling, raising an eyebrow at your answer. He didn’t expect that particular answer, he was expecting you to say that you just decided to hide in the closest instead of socializing. But pushed in? He could actually believe that. "Damn. Got pushed into a closet with me? That’s gotta be some pretty shitty luck."

'I'd like to think it was kinda lucky of me to get pushed in with you, of all people...' you laughed internally. You glanced at him, tearing your eyes from the street in front of the house, narrowing your eyes at his words, but deciding to just stay silent. It was better than saying something to counter it or even worse.. to try and be funny and fail.

JJ’s eyebrows nearly raised at the sound of your small, quiet laugh. He hadn’t expected you to laugh at his joke, he was actually surprised that you had responded at all. That laugh was definitely enough to make him keep going to get that sweet, soft sound to come back.

“You know, you have a really pretty laugh..“ The sentence was out of his mouth before he could even realize it. He internally winced, hoping he hadn’t just made things weird by complimenting you. Not that he didn't compliment girls usually. If anything, that's how he managed to score in the first place. But in your case he wasn't trying to flatter you to get in your pants. He simply found you interesting.

You could feel yourself blush at his compliment, not realizing you actually laughed out-loud instead of just thinking about it in your head. You scolded yourself internally for reacting to such a casual sentence, he was just being nice after all, not asking you to marry him. "Thanks." you managed to mutter out quietly, hoping it sounded at least a tad bit grateful, and not rude and clipped.

JJ’s heart skipped a beat when he saw that adorable blush on your face. He had never seen you so expressive yet quiet at the same time since he'd met you less than an hour ago. He silently smirked to himself, now he knew how to make you blush. He mentally noted that fact down for later. The fact that you had mumbled out a simple “thanks” in response, just made everything even better for him. He would take anything you responded with, just so he could get you to keep talking and hear that angelic voice.

He shifted against the railing, his hand moving to his back pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. He quickly took one out, putting it between his lips. He glanced down at you as he pulled out a lighter to light the cigarette.

He held the pack out to you, silently offering you a cigarette as well. Which as he did, he realized that it wasn't really the epitome of smooth or romantic. But he already had his hand out stretched. JJ was becoming annoyed at himself for overthinking his every move, feeling like he was losing his footing on a ground he'd navigated countless times.

A small amused grimace made its way on your face despite trying to stop it, silently debating if you should take a cigarette. You pulled out your own lighter, stepping a little closer, not too much to look weird, lighting his cigarette before taking one for yourself. 'Wow.. so confident, lighting his cigarette for him.' you quipped sardonically in your head as you lit the cigarette for your self and took a long drag from it.

JJ’s eyes widened a little in surprise when you stepped closer to him, so close that you could reach out and touch him, if you wanted to. He watched you flick your lighter on, a small wave of excitement rushing through him as you held the light to his cigarette. He leaned his head forward slightly, putting the other end of the cigarette to his mouth and taking a drag. He exhaled the smoke as he watched you light your own cigarette.

He almost laughed when he saw the small grimace that came across your face.

He took another drag of the cigarette, his eyes studying the features of your face. You looked so beautiful like this, in the soft light of the porch with a cigarette between your lips. It was enough for him to realize that he wanted to see you like this more - not just tonight but anytime he could.

He turned away slightly as he exhaled the smoke, trying to calm his thoughts once again. He didn’t know you and yet here he was, already getting addicted to being close to you and hearing you talk.

The cigarette was a welcome relief given the fact that you were on edge since you came to the stupid party, leaning on the railing and taking long drags to fill your lungs with the smoke, the nicotine swirling around in your brain. Here you were, smoking a cigarette casually with the guy you were pinning after for years. 3rd grade you would probably faint and break her glasses in 2 if she knew.

JJ silently watched how you exhaled the smoke that was going into your lungs. It was hypnotizing watching you do this, something about it just made him want to keep watching. It was just so oddly satisfying to watch you smoke. He knew it probably wasn’t, but he didn’t care in that moment. It was oddly pleasing in a way he couldn’t explain.

He took another drag, letting the cigarette sit between his lips as he spoke. "You smoke often?"

"Yeah.. helps with the whole social anxiety thing.." you nodded your words followed by a small dry chuckle as you side glanced at him, exhaling the smoke to the side to avoid blowing it directly in his face.

JJ couldn’t help but notice the little side glance at him. That action, for some reason, made his stomach flip and flutter like it had a mind of its own, the way your eyes fixed on him momentarily making him nervous for some reason. A small smirk formed on his face as he blew out his own puff of smoke.

"Social anxiety, huh?"

He took another drag of the cigarette, his eyes looking straight at you as he did. He chuckled slightly, he never thought you would be the type to suffer from social anxiety, mostly because of his prejudice towards your social status. You had always seemed so quiet and reserved, but he never assumed it was because of that. But, as he looked at you now, taking a puff of your cigarette and shyly glancing at him every so often, he was starting to realize that maybe social anxiety made sense. The thought made him realize that he really didn’t know you at all, and that he desperately wanted to change that.

He leaned against the railing once again, taking another drag from the cigarette as he decided on what to say next.

Before he had the chance to do so, none other than your best friend Maisy, burst through the front door, her eyes fixed on you and probably not noticing JJ at first, "Y/n/n! where have you been, girl? You just missed the whole ordeal with Maybank getting locked in a closet with some random girl. It was so crazy.. I looked for you so i could tell you all about it!" she gasped excitedly as she clasped her hands on your shoulders, her loud voice and sudden appearance startling you and JJ. She could not, for the life of her read the room. Ever.

JJ’s eyes immediately went from you to Maisy, he was going to attempt to make more conversation until your best friend burst through the door.

He stiffened at hearing his last name, instantly tensing at what Maisy had said, now staring at the strawberry blonde mess of hair when she stepped in front of him to grab your shoulders.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, glancing over Maisy's shoulder to signal JJ's presence, glaring at her subtly. You didn't want her to say something stupid and reveal your feelings by mistake and embarrass you in front of him. Maisy’s eyes suddenly widened as she realized that she had walked out in the middle of a conversation you having with someone. She followed your gaze and looked over her shoulder, noticing JJ for the first time.

She gasped as her eyes widened even more, her look of surprise quickly turning into a smirk as she glanced back and forth from JJ to you.

You shook your head as if to say, 'don't, i'll kill you.

Maisy, the best friend she was, completely forgot about the look you had given her and the silent threat you were trying to convey in seconds upon receiving it. She had suddenly realized that you were standing beside JJ by yourself, and she was about to take full advantage of the situation. She smirked at you and wiggled her eyebrows dramatically, silently teasing you in her own way.

"Maisy. Please." you widened your eyes, silently scolding her and desperately suppressing the urge to groan out loud. Maisy was well aware of your MASSIVE years long crush on JJ, and you knew she was happy about this, in her own way, of course.

Maisy’s smirk grew as she saw how you widened your eyes and silently begged her not to say anything. She knew how big of a crush you had on JJ and how long you had wanted a moment like this. She was going to make the most of this.

She feigned innocence, silently raising an eyebrow at you as if to say "what".

JJ glanced back and forth between the two of you, picking up on the tension that he couldn’t fully understand. He glanced at you, noticing the look in your eyes as you looked at your friend. He could almost feel the pleading in your eyes, silently begging her not to say anything.

He looked at your friend, catching the smirk that was on her face. He silently tried to figure out what was going on. What was going through the mind of your bratty friend in that moment?

Mimsy glanced at JJ, noticing the curious look he had on his face. She couldn’t help but tease her friend, this was a once lifetime chance and she wasn’t going to pass up on the opportunity to tease her just a little.

She continued her innocent look as she turned back to you. She smirked as she leaned her head in your direction, acting as if she was going to whisper something into your ear. But instead, she spoke loudly, making sure JJ could hear her too. She loved tormenting you just a bit too much.

"You're alone with JJ Maybank of all people. How does it feel?"

Maisy said, a sly grin on her face as she watched your reaction. She was enjoying messing with you and making a fool of you in front of the guy that you liked a little too much for her liking. She didn't care, she loved embarrassing you. It was a friend’s right to tease their other friend in front of a potential love interest, right?

"Embarrassing, given you're here now." you glared at her, probably the most expressive JJ had seen you since you started speaking in the closet. A small sigh escaped your lips and you barely contained the urge to face-palm dramatically.

Maisy let out a loud gasp, acting as if she was offended by your words. She put her hand over her heart, a dramatic look crossing her face as she spoke. She was really enjoying this just so she could get a reaction out of you, which in turn would get a reaction out of JJ.

“Oh, wow. You’re being a bit rude, aren’t you? I can’t believe you’d say that in front of JJ. So insulting.”

JJ let out a stifled laugh as your friend dramatically pretended to be offended. He couldn’t help but find her antics amusing as he watched the whole scene unfold in front of his eyes. But he really couldn’t help but notice the glare you gave to your friend. It was the most expressive facial expression he had seen you wear so far, and he had to admit that he rather liked it. There was something about you standing up for yourself that he found attractive, even if it was just in a small way.

"And also I'm gonna kill you for ditching me like that.. " you added quietly, slapping Maisy's shoulder teasingly even though you were still glaring at her.

Misy let out another gasp as you slapped her shoulder. She feigned a look of pain on her face as she dramatically winced and rubbed the spot where you had slapped her in a playful way. She let out a loud melodramatic "ow". Clearly she was just messing with you at this point.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ditch you. I just had to do something REALLLLYYY important." she countered, her words dripping with suggestive undertones rather than genuine apology.

"Like?" you raised one brow, feigning annoyance.

Maisy shrugged her shoulders slightly, trying her best to look innocent. It was all an act, and she was enjoying it so much. She loved getting a rise out of you just so she could see the way you reacted and how you acted in front of JJ. In another world, she would’ve been a professional drama actor with the way she was able to act so well.

"Just something..., you know. The usual. Important, fun, necessary stuff."

"You need to drive me home. I hate this stupid party." you put out your cigarette, sighing and groaning out loud this time as you adjusted your glasses, leaning away from the railing.

Your best friend laughed at your irritation. She knew that you hated parties and that you dreaded them, that’s why she’d convinced you to come to this one in the first place. It was just her way of being a good friend.

"Alright, alright. Stop being such a prude. I’ll take you home, you baby. Just let me say 'bye' to a few people first. You’re such a buzzkill, you know that?"

"Ugh Maisy.. you're just gonna take forever." you groaned once again at the thought of having to follow her around while she bid her never-ending goodbyes.

"I'll just skate home. Where's your car? i left my board in there." at that point, given how quiet JJ was you forgot momentarily that he was there, speaking freely and more expressively.

Misy raised her eyebrows dramatically as you mentioned skating home. If there was one thing she hated more than parties, it was your habit of skating everywhere. It was like you were allergic to cars. She let out a fake gasp and dramatically put her hand on her chest like she had been wounded.

“Skate home this late!? Alone!? You’re joking right?”

"Unlock the car. I can see it from here." you deadpanned, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible, nodding towards her car parked a bit messily on the lawn of the house.

Maisy scoffed and turned towards where her car was parked. She pulled out her keys out of her pocket and unlocked the car.

“Ugh. Fine. But if you get kidnapped or murdered, I’m not taking the blame. You’re such a pain, you know that right?”

"Bye... I'll see you tomorrow when you're hung over." you waved a hand in her face dramatically, the gesture sarcastic.

Maisy rolled her eyes at your sarcastic wave. She couldn’t help but smirk at how much of a pain you were being. She put a hand on her hip, raising an eyebrow at you in a sarcastic way.

“Ugh, thanks for that. I look forward to your sarcastic and overly annoying comments in the morning. See you, baby.”

With that she turned on her heel and walked back into the house, heading back into the party with a smirk still on her face. She was beyond satisfied with herself. She had pushed your buttons enough for you to be a bit more expressive in front of JJ and get a reaction from both you and him. It was one of her favorite pastimes to see you flustered and a bit irritated just at her presence.

The moment she disappeared inside, the only person left outside on the porch was you and JJ.

After Maisy had gone back inside, the porch suddenly felt much quieter than before. The only sounds heard were the crickets in the background and the muffled noise from the party inside. JJ glanced over at you, his eyes studying your face once again. He couldn’t help but notice the change in your demeanor the moment your annoying friend left.

As soon as your best friend left you were aware that you were alone with JJ again. You glanced at him adjusting your glasses nervously, "sorry about that.."

JJ couldn’t help but chuckle slightly as you nervously adjusted your glasses the moment you realised you were alone with him. He raised an eyebrow as he leaned against the railing of the porch once again, his gaze fixed on you.

"No need to apologize. Your friend is… something else.”

Back to clamming up like a dumbass you go. You nodded silently, a small apologetic smile tugging at your lips. You were going to skate home, but you weren't sure how to.. end the conversation with JJ? should you just leave? wave at him? no... that's too casual, he doesn't even know you. Saying bye felt pathetic.

JJ chuckled again as you fell back into your shy, nervous demeanor. He could tell that you were overthinking the entire situation in the moment, trying to find the right way to leave. He thought that you looked so awkward and nervous. It was almost cute how unsure of yourself you were.

He pushed himself off the railing and took a step towards you.

"You’re still gonna skate home?"

You hummed faintly and nodded, looking out to Maisy's car. You didn't hate the idea of skating home, given you had your earphones with you and you could just take a shortcut to your house from here.

He couldn't help but smirk slightly as you hummed weakly and nodded. He took a couple more steps towards you, closing the gap between the two of you completely. He stood right in front of you, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. "Not afraid of being kidnapped or murdered like your friend said?"

"I skate at night pretty often." you stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, your voice back to its quiet and soft tone again.

JJ smirked even more as you stated your regular night time skating routine as if it was natural. He let out an amused chuckle, his eyebrows raising at the idea of you skating home alone in the dark so often.

"You skate at night often? You must have a death wish, doll."

You furrowed your brows at his nickname, whipping your head to look up at him with an expression resembling confusion. It was mostly to hide how flustered it made you, a small frown forming on your face, which wasn't supposed to be rude in any way, you were just... thrown off.

He smirked as you whipped your head up to look at him, your face showing a look of confusion mixed with… dare he say it, was that a hint of blush on your cheeks? He let out a small chuckle as he noticed your small, almost pouty frown. "What's with that look for, doll? You got a problem with the new nickname?"

You pursed your lips, as if mulling over the nickname in your head and dissecting it. He had no reason to call you that, but you knew JJ even though he didn't know you. You knew he was carefree and casual with everyone, so it wasn't hard for him to say certain things or make jokes. A part of you had always been envious of that, ever since you started liking him. Maybe that's why you liked him. He was the opposite of you, and in some ways you wished you could be like him, or like the girls you knew he usually went for.

He observed your facial expressions closely as you seemed to be deep in thought. He could practically hear the gears turning in your head as you thought about the nickname he had given you. He didn’t know why he called you "doll", it just came out naturally in the moment. He had a habit of nicknaming people, especially pretty ones, without even thinking about it. But for some reason, he was more interested in your reaction to it this time. It was the first nickname he had given you, and he wondered how you would react to it.

He chuckled softly to himself as he watched you purse your lips slightly, your facial expression almost looking like you were analyzing and dissecting the nickname he had given you. He couldn’t help but feel amused at the way you were acting. You were so quiet and soft-spoken, so different from anything he was used to. It was almost endearing in a way. He found your shyness refreshing and cute.

You decided you had enough of just standing there awkwardly and you looked up at him, nodding in greeting and walking towards the steps off the porch, your feet moving slowly, as if you were hesitating, afraid not to create a hole through the wood or something. You didn't wanna leave obviously, but you were awkward and weird and flustered easily and he was... well, JJ. You decided that you liked pining after him from afar from your camera lenses and behind corners rather than embarrassing yourself by talking to him face to face.

JJ watched as you nodded in greeting and began to walk down the steps of the porch. He let out a small chuckle as he noticed the slow and hesitant way you moved, as if you were afraid to break something on the way. He found your nervous mannerisms to be endearing, and he couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in your head at that moment.

As you started walking away, he couldn’t help but step forward and speak up before you got too far.

"Hey, wait."

He took a few steps towards you, closing the distance between the two of you again as he spoke up, his voice low and gentle. "You’re just gonna leave like that, doll?"

"Well.. yeah?" you grimaced hesitantly, curious as to why he seemed so adamant on speaking with you even though you were silent most of the time.

He raised an eyebrow at your hesitancy and grimace. He couldn’t help but feel a mix of annoyance and interest at the fact that you were just going to leave without a second thought. He had wanted to talk to you more, and he wasn’t about to give up just yet.

"You can’t just leave after you’ve barely said anything at this party. You’re too quiet, it’s a little weird."

Ouch again. He probably didn't mean to make another stingy comment, but you still felt the sting a little. You didn't let it show though, raising your brows and adjusting your glasses, looking at him as if expecting him to continue, despite the obvious figurative period at the end of his sentence.

He noticed the subtle flash of hurt in your eyes at his comment, but he didn’t apologize for it. He had a reputation to maintain after all. He raised an eyebrow in return at your raised brows and expression, expecting you to say something. When you didn’t, his eyes narrowed slightly as if he was annoyed that you weren’t responding. "Is that all you’re gonna do, just stare at me?"

You looked to the side as if considering his question, nodding slowly and silently. You knew he probably didn't like it, you weren't the kind of person that would hang around JJ Maybank after all. But you couldn't help it, your brain just didn't wanna speak sometimes, it was like it was selectively mute, which was very asshole-ish of it.

He let out a low sigh at your nod and silent response. He found it both annoying and endearing at the same time how reticent you were. He wasn’t used to someone being this quiet and reserved around him. Usually girls would cling to him or talk endlessly, never shutting up.

He took a small step closer to you, his eyes narrowed slightly as he looked down at you. He leaned forward slightly, his voice low and gruff as he spoke. "You can at least say something, doll."

"Something." you spoke without realizing, the word soft and quiet even though it was more sarcastic than anything.

A surprised laugh escaped his lips at your unexpected sarcastic response. He didn’t expect you to actually say something, let alone something sarcastic.

"Clever."

He said dryly as a smirk formed on his face, his eyebrows raising slightly. He was enjoying this more than he cared to admit, he wasn’t used to people being sarcastic back to him, not someone as quiet as you anyway.

He leaned in slightly closer, his smirk slowly morphing into a small, amused smile. He liked how blunt and sarcastic you could be, and the fact that you were being sarcastic with him was almost funny. "You sure know how to make conversation, doll."

You raised your brows and nodded looking to the side once again as if to say 'i know right?', a small scoff leaving your lips.

He chuckled softly at your raised brows and subtle scoff. It was like you were trying to match his confidence and snarky attitude but by being quiet at the same time, and he couldn’t help but find it amusing. He took another small step forward, getting even closer to you. "You sure are a sassy one, doll. Most people would be a stuttering mess in front of me right now."

'I am stuttering... mentally.' you thought, fixing him with your gaze. You were sure you were plenty nervous in front him anyway, stuttering would just make you explode probably. You were sure that would actually happen if it came down to it.

He could see the hint of nervousness in your eyes as you fixed him with a steady gaze. He knew that you were probably feeling very nervous and intimidated by his presence, but you were doing a good job at not letting it show. It was refreshing to him that you weren’t falling all over yourself in front of him like most girls did.

"You’re awfully quiet though. How come you’re not all over me like most girls are?" He asked, his voice laced with sarcasm and subtle curiosity.

'Oh, how i would love to-..' you stopped that thought before it actually finished in your mind, shaking it out of your brain quickly. Your version of being all over him was stalking him around and taking pretty artsy and stalkerish pictures of him from afar. Of course that was embarrassing to think about, especially when he was standing right in front of you, talking and giving you casual nicknames like 'doll and mouse.'

He noticed the brief second when you seemed to zone out for a moment before snapping yourself out of it. He couldn’t help but be intrigued by the look that had crossed your face, if only for a split second. He raised an eyebrow at your sudden change in demeanor and wondered what had just gone through your head.

"You sure love zoning out, doll. You alright in that head of yours?"

You nodded swiftly, looking back up at him. Still, you couldn't seem to get a word out, which was becoming annoying for you. You can talk to him, he's not gonna bite.

He could sense your frustration at your inability to speak, even though he could also tell that you were trying to remain calm and collected in front of him. He found your struggle both endearing and irritating at the same time.

He chuckled softly before speaking again, his voice soft and casual. "You know you can talk to me, right? Like, actually say something out loud."

"I'm a girl of few words." you spoke up, pursing your lips gently as you looked up at him, nodding in a self-assured way.

He chuckled again at your response, his eyes fixed on your pursed lips. There was something strangely intriguing about the way you looked at him, even with your glasses in the way. "I can tell, doll. You’re practically mute." like an actual doll, that was even more funnier to think about in JJ's mind.

He found himself moving closer to you again, a smirk playing on his lips. He was enjoying the fact that you were struggling to speak, and secretly found it cute how shy and awkward you were around him.

"You’re a little mouse, aren’t ya? Too shy to talk?"

You hated that word when it was used to describe your quietness by others, but when it came out of his mouth and it rolled off his lips you found it almost... sweet. The way he seemed to weigh his words and keep his rowdy and loud behavior in check made you feel.. special? but also pitied, like he was scared of scaring you away. You raised your brows, adjusting your glasses and smiling slightly at him, nodding again after a few seconds.

He could see the hint of annoyance in your eyes when he called you a mouse, but it was gone as soon as he saw you smile slightly.

"Awww, look at that, she finally smiled. I didn’t think it was possible with you being so quiet."

He mocked your silence once more, just to tease you a bit more. He found your reactions and facial expressions entertaining, even if you were silent most of the time.

Somehow you found the courage to reach up and smack his shoulder playfully, glaring at him half heartedly. The action surprised even yourself, retracting your hand fast in fear that you might've made him uncomfortable.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise when you reached up and smacked his shoulder, the action catching him off guard. It was the first time you had physically touched him, and he couldn’t help but feel a small spark of electricity at the contact. He also noticed the way you retracted your hand quickly, as if you were afraid of what he might do.

He laughed softly at the look on your face, his smirk widening.

"Did you just SMACK me, mouse?"

"Sorry.." you stuttered out, stepping back a little nervously. It was supposed to be a casual teasing smack but as per usual, you made things awkward and weird. Just like you always did.

He chuckled again at your stuttered apology, the sound low and gruff. He found your nervous mannerisms and stuttering quite endearing. It was an odd thing, being intrigued by someone who hardly talked and was very awkward. He took a step closer to you, closing the distance between you again. "Don’t apologize, doll. I’m not mad." He said lowly, his smirk fading into a soft smile.

You nodded quickly, turning away suddenly and walking towards Maisy's car to retrieve your board and skate home. God, you had spoken to him more than you ever did in these 8 years of pining after him. And it was so nerve wrecking, having someone have some much control over you without even knowing.

As you walked away, JJ couldn't help but feel a bit of disappointment that you were leaving already. He watched you walk towards Maisy's car, and a part of him wanted to call out to you to stay, but he didn't.

He couldn't quite understand why, but there was something about you that he found strangely captivating. Despite the fact that you were very shy and awkward around him, he felt strangely drawn to you. He didn’t want the conversation to end just yet.

He thought about calling out to you to wait, but something stopped him. He wasn't sure what it was, but he couldn't bring himself to speak up. Instead, he just watched as you walked away, his eyes fixed on your retreating form.

Maybe it was the way you had looked at him with those shy, behind-the-glasses eyes, or the soft, almost sarcastic responses you had given him despite your quiet nature. Something just made him want to keep talking to you, even if all you did was just nod and stay silent most of the time. Maybe that's what JJ needed, someone quiet enough to help him ground his loudness. But that thought was shaken away when he realized you were a stranger and the 2 of you might not even interact ever again.

JJ was still standing there at base of the porch steps, watching as you opened the back seat of Maisy's car. He raised an eyebrow at the state of the car, thinking to himself about how messy it was. As you retrieved your board from under the pile of clothes and Gatorade bottles, he watched your every movement intently.

When you suddenly turned around and waved at him, JJ couldn’t help but feel a fluttering in his chest. He couldn’t quite understand why, but he found the gesture strangely adorable.

He raised his hand in response, waving back at you.

"Night, mouse. Don't get lost on the way home."

He called out, his smirk returning to his face. He couldn't help but tease you a little before you left, it was too hard not to poke at your shy demeanor.

You couldn't help but smile at his use of the nickname again, placing your board on the sidewalk and glancing at him one last time before finally forcing yourself to skate away down the sidewalk, the sound of the party becoming distant as you skated down the street.

JJ watched as you placed your board on the sidewalk and started skating away. He couldn’t help but notice the small smile that had appeared on your face when he had called you 'mouse' again. He felt a small twinge of satisfaction being the cause of the smile, even if it was a small one.

—♡‧

A/n: Okay so... what do we think about the first interaction? I decided mid-way that I'm making this multiple parts..☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆ if this does well I'll post part 2.. JJ is such a yapper, and the reader is.. not. I'll take this down if people don't read it but i have an entire story about these 2 :( I'm just curious if this was too long

[harrywavycurly]

I just read the bumble story and I love how reader talks to Harry and the “we listen and we don’t judge” thing about his hands😂 I can see her saying that to him all the time and maybe he even says it to her a few times as well!

Hiii babes!!! Awe thank you for reading the Bumble Fumble!! I loved writing their dialogue, it was so fun because she just says exactly what’s on her mind and you know Harry was probably thinking “what does that even mean?” when she said that to him the first time!! But this made me think of some random convos they’d have where you use that phrase so I hope you enjoy!!💖

You can find the Almost Bumble Fumble: here✨

*these are just conversations so it’s pure dialogue*

Summary: You teach Harry how to properly use “we listen and we don’t judge” ✨

“I lied to Jeff and told him I had an appointment this morning so I could get off the phone with him because I didn’t want to listen to him tell me about his weekend because I knew it was going to be a bit boring and I wanted to make sure I had your coffee ready by the time you got here and I can’t fake being interested in what he’s saying and making coffee at the same time.” “We listen and we don’t judge. But thank you for putting my coffee so high on your list of priorities.” “Well I just know how you get without it.” “Kinda the same way you get when you can’t journal for ten minutes every evening before bed.” “Exactly.”

“Wait you said what to her?” “Harry you’re supposed to listen and not judge…and that face you’re making is telling me you’re totally judging right now.” “What? No love I’m not judging I’m-I’m listening. Continue please.” “Right well I told her that her dress wasn’t very cute because I just couldn’t let her walk out of the house not looking her best so she got mad and broke my favorite pair of sunglasses so I cut the straps off all her purses.” “Jesus remind me to never upset you.” “I was in high school Harry it was just normal teenage angst that’s all.” “Well uhm we listen and we don’t judge.” “Too late Styles…you already judged but nice try.”

“Niall told me he’s reading fifty shades of gray but told from Christian’s point of view. I didn’t even know that was a thing?” “We listen and we don’t judge. It’s good. I mean as good as fifty shades can be..” It’s good? I didn’t-wait you’ve read it?” “Harry…” “Sorry sorry. We listen and we don’t judge.”

“I cry every time I watch Taken because-” “We listen and we don’t judge. You can cry at any movie you want sweetheart it’s fine.” “Oh my god.” “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” “You really meant it! I didn’t feel any judgement from you at all!” “Crying is cool so of course I’m not going to judge you for it.” “I feel like a proud mom right now this is great.” “Glad I could make you proud but I don’t know…m’not really into the mommy thing.” “We listen and we don’t judge so that’s fine you don’t have to be into the mommy thing.” “Oh that was good…you’re quick.”

[bomber-grl]

Kusuo Saiki Dating Headcanons

Pairing(s): Kusuo Saiki x Gn!Reader

It takes a really long time to get to the point where the two of you are dating. Like 100,000,000 words, slow burn, they finally kiss at the end– sort of fanfic. Honestly, I think Saiki’s a bit hesitant about relationships in general because they seem like a hassle. Everyone else is on thin ice already, the thought of putting effort into a relationship is exhausting enough.

Like with everyone else, he’s pretty indifferent toward you at first, and you only move up to "mild annoyance" status if you stick around long enough. Especially since he’s probably hearing all your thoughts, so there’s that.

Now, onto the actual headcanons. Saiki isn’t exactly the affectionate type. You two probably started as friends, mostly with you bothering him. Even after he realizes he likes you (though he really tries to hide it), nothing changes much. The difference is, you’re the only person he seems to tolerate. Everyone else wonders why you even bother with him.

Sometimes, Saiki gets... freaked out? There’s really no other way to put it. He’s used to being around people who are idiots, so when someone like you comes along—someone who’s rather perceptive—that’s a bit much for him. It messes with his head. Despite being able to hear your every thought, he starts wondering if you’re psychic too.

You can tell what he’s feeling, what he wants, and even do things for him. Sure, he could do all those things tenfold in just under a minute, but for some reason, he finds himself smiling. He even starts thinking fondly of you.

If you were another Nendou, though? He’d probably avoid you, and your relationship would be a slow burn that takes another 100,000,000 words and even worse edging (Not like that). But I digress. Saiki shows affection in subtle ways. Like remembering offhand comments you’ve made about your favorite snack or color.

He’s the type of guy who’ll subtly push your chair out of the way when you’re about to trip or pick up a dropped pen without you asking. He might not say much, but he’ll do whatever he can to make your life a little easier, even if he doesn’t directly tell you that.

I know it might sound like I’m painting him as a deadbeat bf, but honestly? He’d probably be a great boyfriend. He can literally hear your thoughts. He knows what you want, even before you say it. He’s seen (and heard) men ruin their relationships because they thought they knew their partner. So, when you want to grab a treat or have been wanting something that relates to an interest, he’ll know.

He’ll also know (and hear) if you slightly even think he’s good looking on a particular day. He’ll never admit it, of course, but if you get embarrassed thinking about it (since you know he can hear your thoughts), he secretly enjoys that. Seeing you flustered is one of his guilty pleasures—even though he’d never show it.

And yeah, Saiki’s protective. He won’t say it, and he won’t make a big show of it like other people would, but he does care. If something’s bothering you, he’ll subtly step in. Like if someone’s making you uncomfortable, he’ll use his telekinesis to, throw something at them or trip them up—whatever works, as long as no one knows it was him.

He doesn’t like people messing with you, and he won’t hesitate to shut them down, even if he keeps it minimal to avoid drawing attention to himself.

In this following scenario you're another Nendou. He hardly ever gets surprised. I mean, hearing everyone’s thoughts kind of ruins surprises, spoilers for a new tv show, honestly anything for him. But maybe—just maybe—the only way to startle or fluster him is by turning the tables on that. Maybe it’s the first time you show affection in your relationship.

Saiki’s not big on physical touch– we all know that much. If you want to hug him, go ahead, but he’ll probably just stand there like a statue. So, let’s say you somehow convince him to come over to your place, and then you, attempted subtly, suggest that you kiss him out of nowhere.

He’d choke on his drink and immediately try to cover it up. Forget not hearing your thoughts, he literally didn’t think you’d want to kiss him anytime soon. He won’t show it (obviously) but deep down, he’s definitely a little shaken.

Now, in the chance that you two do kiss, (which is chapters later– in fanfiction terms) he’s very hesitant? Like sure, he can destroy the entire Earth if he even wanted to but the idea is still startling. He thinks it over and once he agrees (which is the only kiss you’ll get until the next blue moon) he is admittedly worried.

He’s never kissed anyone, he never planned to so he tries to be collected like he always is. If a satellite suddenly went offline somewhere in space, well that’s nothing to do with him.

Also, an extra that isn’t a dating hc is that Saikis mom and dad love you so much, his dad literally asked if you were actually real which earned a side eye from Saiki. It does get annoying for Saiki, but he’s pretty glad you all get along.

[rowdyluv]

can i request 7g with quinn she/her please🥺

Prompt: “Don’t cry. God, please don’t cry. I hate seeing you like this and not being able to do anything.”

Warnings: anxiety, panic, hints at bad past, wrote & posted no editing (So I re-read it and saw how yucky it looked so it’s semi edited)

Y/n boss appeared at the edge of her cubicle with a sly smile edging his face and his tie slightly askew. "Y/n," he called out, his voice cutting through the low murmur of the office. "I need to see you in my office right away." Her stomach plummeted. If she wanted to make it downtown to Roger’s without any trouble she needed to leave in exactly two minutes. Any later she would be fighting the surrounding area schools.

The office was a blur of desks and faces as she tried to keep her breath steady, trying to not let her anxiety rile her up. What could he possibly want? He hadn’t spoke to her in the last 8 months since she had started dating Quinn. She had been excluded from all other meetings, why now?

Inside his office, he gestured to the chair opposite his desk, his expression unreadable. She sat down, her hands fidgeting in her lap as he closed the door behind her. He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together. "I know you requested to leave early, Y/n," he said, his eyes closing briefly as he slowly breathed out a sigh. "But I have a... document that requires your attention."

“My…my att..attention?” She stuttered out with growing anxiety. “Can I do it tomorrow? I..I’ll come in early? Stay late?” She asked quietly sitting on the edge of her seat.

His eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk. “I’m afraid it’s rather urgent. It shouldn’t take long. But it’s something that requires your immediate and professional attention.” He said with a rigid tone that left no room for argument.

Y/n’s shoulders slumped as she nodded reluctantly. She could feel the minutes slipping away, each one lowering a heavier weight on her chest. She returned to her desk, her eyes scanning the email. The document was pages and pages of information. “Shouldn’t take long” she muttered to herself. If she worked carelessly it wouldn’t take long, but if she worked as she’s known to it would take her at least two hours to get through it thoroughly. Her mind was racing with the thought of Quinn and his family waiting for her at the arena, wondering where she was.

With trembling hands, she began to work, her eyes darting back and forth over the screen. Her heart felt as if it was in a vice, each beat a painful reminder of the promise she was about to break. The words and numbers started to blur together as she rushed through the text, making mental notes and trying to ensure she didn’t miss any crucial details. The longer she was stuck at her desk the less she cared about her job. She was worried about letting Quinn down, him being disappointed in her, him being mad at her.

Y/n shot off a message to Quinn once she sent an email back to her boss of the finished document. The clock read 6pm, her thumbs moved frantically over the screen as she typed. "Leaving the office now…hope to be there soon! I’m so, so sorry." She sent it with a heavy painful sigh, knowing it was probably too late. Her eyes stung with the threat of tears, and she took a deep breath to compose herself. She couldn’t let her anxiety ruin this for her, not when Quinn had been so supportive of her through all of her mental health struggles.

The city streets were a sea of red brake lights and honking horns. Each minute that passed felt like an eternity. Her chest tightened, and she rubbed her hands over her face, wishing she could just will all of the cars in front of her to move. "Come on," she murmured under her breath desperately her eyes darting to the time. 7:23pm. She quickly typed out another message to Quinn, her heart racing. "I’m so so sorry I’m late. I hope I make it by the start of the second. Traffic's a nightmare.."

Not long after the message sent, her phone was ringing with an incoming call, and she saw it was Quinn. Her hand hovered over the answer button for a second, dread mixing with anticipation. "Hello?" she answered, her voice shaky.

“Y/n.” He sounded relieved. “It’s intermission, they said you never picked up your ticket. Are you okay?” He rushed out. Y/n knew he must of fought his coaches to call her. He never uses his phone during intermissions. She had only been messaging him out previous relationship habits.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m…” She trailed off looking up the highway of bumper-to-bumper traffic. “I’m still stuck in traffic. It’s so bad, I don’t think I’ll make it, Q.. I’ll just..I’ll just go wait for you at your apartment. I’m so sorry, Quinn. I know this game means so much to you and your family. I messed up,” she said, her voice cracking with regret.

“No, no. It’s okay. I’ll see you after. Be careful sweet girl.” Quinn softly says to her in the sweet tone he gives only her.

★★★★

By the time she arrived at Quinn’s luxurious apartment there were only moments left in the game. She not only missed it live in person but also televised. The elevator ride to the top floor seemed to drag on forever, each floor number lighting up with a painful slowness. She stepped out into the hallway, her feet echoing against the hard floor. She fidgeted with her keys, trying to find the right one to unlock the door. Her hands were trembling so badly she could barely hold onto them. With a shaky breath, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. Her anxiety was an ugly, ugly thing.

The thought of him expecting her to be there, only for her to miss, brought a lump to her throat. She sat down on the plush couch, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them tightly. Her mind raced with scenarios of his disappointment and anger, each one more intense than the last. Each scenario ended differently but each had the common denominator of him expressing his disappointment in her. Something about the thought of him saying the phrase ‘I’m disappointed in you, Y/n.’ Made her dizzy, made her nauseous, made her feel like she had committed the most audacious crime. The quiet was deafening, and she found herself holding her breath, waiting for the moment he would come through the door and throw his anger at her.

★★★★

Quinn’s heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway, and she felt a new surge of panic. She leapt to her feet, her heart racing as she rushed towards the door. She threw it open just as Quinn was about to push his key inside the door knob. With wide eyes and erratic breathing, she flung herself at him. Her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. “I’m so sorry, Quinn, I got held up at work and the traffic was horrendous! I tried, I swear, I really, really, reaaalllyy did. I wanted to be there so badly!” she babbled out in a rush.

He looked at her with surprise in his eyes before a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He gently wrapped his arms around her, lifting her just enough off the ground to walk inside, “It’s alright, it’s okay,” he murmured soothingly, his breath warm fanning against her ear. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

He set her down gently on the couch taking a spot right beside her and she felt a little calmer just by being in his space. Quinn sat so close to her, trying to give them a little bit of privacy. What little they could earn with his parents and brother standing feet away. Y/n took a deep breath, preparing for the blow that would never arrive.

"Pretty girl, why are you crying?" He whispered, his thumb brushing against her cheek. "I’m not mad at you, I promise." His eyes held contact with hers, filled with concern and confusion. Y/n sniffled, trying to compose herself. "I..it's just that… It’s just I missed a game you really wanted me to be at. One we’ve talked a lot about. You might not be made, but I wanted to be there for you," she managed to get out, her voice cracking with emotion.

Quinn’s face softened, and he pulled her into his chest, her head resting snuggly against his chest. "I see… You’ve labeled it was important to me because I was playing, but honey it’s just a game. It’s seeing my family that’s important. Them seeing you too. That’s why I wanted you there. I wanted to look up and see you cheering for me and my brothers next you mom.” He explained rubbing her back in an assuring way. “So, next Hughes Bowl is in Jersey and I will be fixing your arrangements first thing Monday morning. Right now? I’m more concerned about you than a silly hockey game." He kissed the top of her head, his hands rubbing circles into her back. "You’re here now, thats what is important."

Y/n looks up at him, placing her chin on his chest. A couple stray tears slipping down her face.

"Baby, please don't cry," Quinn murmured, his voice thick with concern. "It kills me when you cry."

Y/n sniffled, her eyes meeting his. "They're happy tears, I promise," she said with a wobbly smile. "I'm just so... thankful that you're you. That you understand."

“I’m nothing like anyone you’ve been with before me. I take care of you, of us.” Quinn affirms wiping her cheeks. “Now come meet my momma before she interrupts us to introduce herself.”

[revelboo]

man dude u are an absolute GOD with how much writing you keep pumping out THANK YOU FOR FEEDING USSSSSSSSSSS

I’m just having fun

Everything Is Alright Pt 122

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Optics on the ceiling overhead, on anything but you and your two mates fussing over you, Megatron swallows a growl. That all too familiar feeling of alienation that he remembers from the mines lifting through him. Thought that he'd gotten past this. That it could no longer hurt him, but it's as bitter now as it was back then. Being right there and ignored. Not belonging. And he hates it with a passion. "You two realize this changes everything," he says to Soundwave and Starscream and the Seeker's optics immediately narrow.

• "What exactly does this change?" Starscream growls, hand cupping the back of your head when you finally lay your cheek on his chassis. “I can tend to my mate. I don’t need either of you.” And you stiffen against him. Because as much as he despises the pair of them, you’d chosen them. Wants so much to resent you for that. For forcing him into this mess. They’re not his trine. Not brothers. They’re enemies. Wings drooping slightly then flaring when Soundwave immediately tries to comfort you, he growls. “But my mate does. For some reason.”

• Fighting a smile because that’s probably as civil as Starscream can be given the circumstances, you reach back a hand and Soundwave laces his servos with your fingers. And you’re painfully aware of how messed up whatever this is between the four of you is. That none of them are exactly happy. “Can we just try to start over?” Know you’re asking a lot of them. That this is all your fault anyway. “But you’re so tired of the fighting and scheming.

• “I’m not going to suddenly forget how many times your traitorous little Seeker has stabbed me in the back,” Megatron growls, but he sounds more tired than truly angry. That alone helps Soundwave relax some. Wants to pull you away from Starscream, separate you from him so he can just focus on your emotions. Wanting to try and figure out why you’d fully bonded Megatron after shunning him. It’s what he’d been working towards, but it still hurts that you’d chosen the warlord over him. How many times had he put Megatron ahead of himself, though? Should be used to it. Doing the hard things for the greater good. Even if it hurts. Always loyal. Obedient. Not allowed to want anything for himself, but he does want you even if you don’t want him.

• “Because you’re running the cause into the ground,” Starscream snarls wings lifting and the warlord’s head turns to stare at him. And he’s never been free to speak his mind without fear of pain or retribution, but he can say whatever the pit he wants right now and he’s untouchable because they’re both fully bonded to you. It’s like a dam falling in his processor. All the frustration, hate, and anger pouring out. “Do you have any idea how many stupid decisions you make? How many actions are driven by your desire to kill Optimus, not actual strategy? But what the frag do you know about strategy anyway? A miner and a gladiator. You have so many advisors and you don’t listen to any of us, too busy acting out your little vendetta while the cause suffers. I believed in you.”

• “You only believe in power,” Megatron counters, rolling and propping himself up on an arm. And your skin prickles, not really liking being so small and between them while they argue. Feel Soundwave hook an arm around your middle and pull you to him and away from Starscream like he’s concerned too. “You lie and scheme and paint yourself as a worthy leader, but you’re a coward scrabbling for any power or control you can get your servos on.” Yeah, you don’t want to be anywhere near them if they’re about to brawl. Both tensed like they’re seconds from launching at each other and then slowly relaxing to make you realize you were holding your breath. And Megatron glances at you, vents noisily and resumes staring at the ceiling. “You’re brave with our little pet to protect you.”

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Slowly remembering how to do this/accidentally stabbing myself with the needle so many times. I’m much rustier at this than I thought, though 🫠 looks more like Wheeljack’s illegitimate love child than Starscream at this point. Just a few more pins to finish my bag now