#akkajehsbdcbsnjs his filthy ass mind god i’d do ANYTHING for this man NNGGHHHHH

[katasstrophy]

now WHY am i salivating like a b!tch in heat over this 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

i'm sorry i'm sorry i saw your tag about older brother's best friend aiku and i actually SCREAMED because that's such a thought inducing idea . . . he does have that vibe, and he pulls it off so well !! i feel like he fits the trope of someone you've known your whole life but who was always just a bit too old for you to actually spend time with — until you eventually get a bit older too and start getting closer with him and that's when the fun starts yk lmao

i'm- babes i am looking so respectfully this is SO right 🤕

˚୨୧⋆ 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑖𝑎

wc: 1.3k. cw: slightly suggestive, reader is referred to as sister/might be femcoded, this started as a drabble and well.. we're here now, could be dc potential, could just be some pining ꒰ minors/ageless blogs dni ꒱

you've known aiku since what feels like forever, and he's always had this confident, slightly intimidating aura to him, even back when all three of you were just kids. the age gap between you two wasn't anything crazy, at least not by the time you were both grown adults, but the four years seemed to pose more of a problem back when you were still in school. you were always a bit timid around your brothers friends, palms growing clammy when you'd have to come into his room and call them for dinner or fetch something - but they were only ever nice to you anyway. you were just there, your brother's little sister, perhaps a bit too young to fully understand their jokes or why they're so clumsy when stumbling up the stairs at 3 am. but hey, it's not like you felt bad about it, really.

your brother and his friends were good kids, however - oliver included. never got into too much trouble, always so respectful when coming over and talking to your parents. by the time your brother dropped soccer somewhere in the middle of high school, aiku was already considered a national gem and proudly carried the weight of being japan's hope.

finally about to step into the lifestyle you saw your brother and all his friends engage in for the past few years, you weren't surprised at all to only ever see aiku, the nicest one of the group (the most handsome, too) on the tv screen anymore. he's left for some kind of soccer project, then got scouted by the ubers back in italy, and you truly felt so happy for the boy after everything you've seen him go through. the two of you wasn't exactly close, not at all, but he's always been so kind to you, told you sincere words on how you should never give up your dreams no matter how silly they felt; helped you with the stupid physics project that your brother couldn't figure out for the life of him, either (it runs by blood, after all).

you don't keep in touch with any of the guys, but stumble upon some of them on the streets of your hometown ever so often. you exchange smiles, familiarize each other with what you're up to now, then go off with your day as usual.

(you don't know each of them teases your brother on how well you've grown. he tells them to shut the fuck up every time cause, fuck, the thought alone is gross, and he'd rather kill them than allow you to get involved with either of 'em.)

oliver's the one you see the rarest. it's only natural with his field of work, busier than anything any of you could ever put your minds to. it is kind of funny to see his face on gossip sites, though, so if there's ever any disappointment threatening to build up on you, it works just well to ease it.

the first time you properly meet him again after three or four years is when you just happen to be going through the worst shift you've had in ages, and he's the one most annoying client, casually stepping into the store mere minutes away from closing.

"aiku-kun?" you sound surprised when you make out the familiar features, sharp yet warm eyes flickering under the bright lights when he grins.

he sets the ramune bottle down, pushing it in your direction.

"in the flesh", he chuckles, "you doing night shifts now?" the man asks, almost sounding just as taken aback (one thing he remembers about you is that you've never liked to stay up late, and hated being out when it got dark).

you just give a shrug.

oliver learns you're not silent because you're busy ringing him up or still shocked to see him - you sniff and wipe at your eyes haphazardly and only then does he realize that you're feeling down, and probably cried at the back minutes before he came in.

"they're paying me better for these," you mumble, manicured nail tapping on the register. you don't look up when speaking, too embarrassed to let him see you this messed up when he looks so stupidly handsome. italy treated him well- time, too. "is that a-"

you glance up upon the sound of clinking glass. there's another bottle of soda standing next to his, and it just happens to be your favorite flavor, too.

(he remembered, and as sweet as it is, it's not a big deal. then why are you blushing? why are your palms suddenly clammy, like back in the old times?)

"wrap it up, i'll be waiting outside." oliver offers, thick lashes fluttering as he blinks. almost expectantly, but it's not like he wants to pressure you into agreeing. (it'd be nice, though. and you just happen to be as meek as always, and crumble under the intensity of his gaze instantly - as if that's what his true motive was all along.) "unless you're busy?"

you shake your head, wiping your hands on the back of your jeans. "no, not at all."

you join oliver on a quiet drive down the streets of your neighbourhood, eventually reaching the local view spot that you've spent all too many late nights at - both of you. the only difference's that it's all nostalgia to him, and it's still your very present, a weekly way to hang out - perhaps just following what your older siblings did.

and even though it's your very first time sitting in a car so expensive, the defender's presence is oddly comforting. familiar, in a way, and you only ever realize how much you've missed it when he wordlessly encourages you to open yourself up before him. he's always been so effortlessly charming, inviting in a way - and he still is, even though your heart wants to leap out of your chest when his fingers brush along yours as he helps you push the round marble down.

"so," the brunette clears his throat, "he dumped you over a text?" he knocks the bottle neck of his drink with yours, bicolored gaze seemingly burning through you as he watches you nod.

you hum, taking a sip of the bubbly beverage and looking out the city's panorama. oliver rolls his eyes, rubbing at the nape of his neck and leaning back in his seat.

"that's a real dick move, you know?" he states matter-of-factly, to which you snort, "guys like that don't deserve your tears, kid."

"says who," you quip. from your peripheral, you notice him turn his head back to you. "i've seen the articles, loverboy. m'not sure if you're the best advisor." you tease, cheek resting on top of your bare shoulder as you grin at him.

the man bites back a laugh, canines on show when he smiles to himself and frankly, the sight's making your tummy flutter with an unknown, fairly new feeling, no matter how much you try to ward the butterflies off.

you don't know it yet, and aiku's quite sure of it, actually - there's the exact same sensation bubbling somewhere in his chest, too, when he shamelessly, ravenously takes in the soft glow of your skin, decolletage on show thanks to the tiny spaghetti strap top you're wearing. your eyes are as wide as ever, despite all the burdens and daily struggles simmering behind your affection and interest-blown pupils, and there's this almost dreamy, captivating smile, one that beautifully compliments your now more womanly-like, refined features.

perhaps it's better you don't ever become familiar with the thoughts that start to simmer in his head - you, moaning into his mouth as he steals kisses from those taunting, plush lips of yours, that he's sure currently taste of the artificial sweet pineapple you're sipping on; you, down on your knees in front of him, giving him the same soft, gullible look, on the verge of pleading for all the attention he forwent in the past.

and fuck, he's aware of it - annoyingly so - but oliver has agreed to let go of a few too many things in life already.

you're not about to be one of them, too.

© itoshi-s. do not plagiarize, repost as your own or mention on other sm platforms.