Oliver {FPE}

📄🏫 The Paper School 🏫📄

Everyone at Paper School knew Oliver. Not just knew—they feared him.

He was one of the infamous three: Oliver, Edward, and Zip. Together, they were chaos personified. Water dumped from stair rails, lockers jammed shut with glue, desks flipped for fun—it was all in a day’s work. And through it all, Oliver was the loudest laugh in the room, his smirk never fading, his pranks always a little too harsh.

But what no one knew—what no one would believe—was that the same Oliver who made others flinch at his footsteps… could melt into a lovesick puddle for you.

That’s right. The troublemaker himself was your boyfriend. And today? You were about to witness just how ridiculous he could get when it came to showing affection.

---

The school gates creaked behind you as you stepped out, the orange sunset stretching across the road like melted paint. It had been a long day — one of those that made you just want to walk home in peace. You were halfway down the quiet path when something rustled in the tree above.

You froze. Before you could even look up—

THUD!

A figure dropped from the branches with way too much confidence, landing in a pose that probably looked cooler in his head. Leaves rained down around him, his horn catching a streak of sunlight while his pencil-arm hit the ground with a faint wooden clink.

“Ta-da!” Oliver grinned, straightening up like he’d just performed on stage. “Bet you didn’t expect that kind of entrance, huh?”

You blinked. “Oliver, you almost broke your face.”

He scoffed, brushing dust and leaves off him with a dramatic flair. “Almost? Nah. I landed with style. You should’ve seen it from my angle.”

“You tripped.”

Oliver gasped in mock offense, crossing his arms as his grin only widened. “I intended to trip. It’s called suspense, babe. Builds character.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as he fell into step beside you, still pretending to be wounded by your words. Every few steps he’d glance over, that smug little grin never leaving his face.

“Anyway,” he said, voice dropping into a playful drawl, “I was thinking… maybe you could, y’know, come hang out at my place. Edward and Zip are already there. We’ve got snacks, cards, and probably too many pillows.”

“Too many pillows?” you echoed.

He shrugged, smirk tugging at his lips. “Zip brought them. I don’t ask questions when comfort’s involved.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Fine. But if you three start any nonsense, I’m leaving.”

Oliver’s grin turned cocky, a spark dancing in his eyes. “Oh, trust me. The only nonsense tonight is me winning every card game—and looking good while doing it.”

---

Turns out, he did not.

Hours later, Edward had already rage-quit UNO twice, Zip was dramatically accusing Oliver of cheating, and you were too busy laughing to play properly. Someone started a pillow fight—no one knew who, but judging by Oliver’s smug look and the flying cushions, it was definitely him.

By the time the chaos died down, the house was a mess of feathers and laughter. Edward and Zip eventually stumbled out the door, still arguing about whether “Draw Four” cards stacked or not.

You were just about to grab your bag when a hand tugged at your sleeve.

Oliver stood there, shifting his weight nervously, just a faint pink tint on his cheeks. His usual bold grin was there, but his eyes flicked away quickly. “Uh… you could, maybe… stay. Just for tonight,” he mumbled, trying to sound casual but clearly flustered.

“Stay?”

He rubbed the back of his neck with his pencil-arm, avoiding your gaze for a moment, then flashed a quick cocky grin. “Yeah… roads are boring. And, uh… the bed’s… big enough.”

You tilted your head, teasing him a little. “So, you’re scared to sleep alone?”

His horns twitched, and he blinked rapidly before giving a small, proud huff. “If i say yes would you stay...?"

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Alright, fine. I’ll stay.”

---

And now—

You’re lying on his bed, the room dim except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan. Oliver’s arm wraps around you, his face nuzzled gently into your neck, horns brushing softly against your hair. His pencil-arm rests lightly against your shoulder, the cold metal strangely comforting against your warmth.

His usual cocky smirk is still there, bold and cheeky, as he presses closer, murmuring softly, “See? Told you the bed’s big enough. I even saved the best spot for myself… and, uh… you.”

He shifts slightly, grinning into your hair. “Don’t even think about stealing all the blankets. I deserve them.”

You snuggle closer, and he hums in satisfaction, nuzzling a little deeper. “Mm… perfect. You fit just right here. Honestly, I could get used to this.”

Another small, teasing murmur escapes him “Bet you won’t even try to steal the pillow I claimed… unless you want to get bitten."

He relaxes completely against you, confident, playful, and completely at ease. Holding you like this… he already feels like he’s won.