#otis milburn drabble

[ficnation]

Thank you so much for the tag, hun! @drabbles-mc 💖 It made my day 🥰

Rules: reveal the titles of the documents in your WIP folder and tag as many people as there are documents. Let others ask questions about the ones that interest them and post snippets or explain the contents as you see fit! (unfortunately I don't think i know that many people 😭)

WIP Game

“Way Down We Go” Chapter 6: Facing the Strangers - Rick Grimes; Shane Walsh

“The Heart Wants What It Wants” Chapter 2: A Sweet Connection - Angel Reyes

“She” Chapter 4: The Secrets She Keeps - Angel Reyes

One More Ride - Daryl Dixon

The Cockroach: Chapter 3 - Negan Smith; Lucille Smith

Unexpected - Negan Smith

Just a Man - Joel Miller

Unnamed Project 1 - Diego Hargreeves

Baby Talk 2 - Daryl Dixon

Power - Shane Walsh

May We Meet Again - Ivar Ragnarsson

Negan?

Otis Milburn Fluff Alphabet

Consolation - Miguel Galindo

Family - Miguel Galindo x Oceteva! Reader

Happy Lowman x Reader

EZ Reyes x Reader? Angel Reyes x Reader?

Feel free to send in asks about any of the fics above 🙏🏻💖 I love talking to y'all!

Tagging (no pressure): @wreakingmarveloushavok @sourwolf-sterek32 @darklydeliciousdesires @freelancearsonist @stevesbestgirl @theteasetwrites @murdadixon @twdeadfanfic @jvalentinesworld-cokes-hyna @pastanest

and anyone else who wants to participate! ✨

[myriadimagines]

back again!! could i request a sex education ship drabble with the prompts 32+80. i'm a british, straight girl with blonde hair! i am very introverted but once you get to know me i am way bolder! i love music and play the guitar and piano and i am a ravenclaw! i'm also a bit of a romantic! thanks ily have a nice day :))

Characters: Reader x Otis Milburn

Warnings: —

Prompt: 32. “Oh God… I think I’m in love with you.” & 80. “Aw, you look like you need a hug.” “Don’t you dare—!”

Word Count: 394

A/N: ily too and i hope u like it love x

NOT TAKING ANYMORE REQUESTS!

“Hey, Otis,” you greet, bumping your shoulder up against his as you sit beside him. He’s sitting on a bench, alone in a secluded corner of the school, looking somewhat lost as he watches his classmates from a distance. He turns to look at you, offering you a small smile, and you dump your backpack on the floor as you ask, “What are you thinking about?”

Otis shrugs, leaning back on the bench. “This whole clinic thing has been... a lot. I feel like I barely have time to breathe.” 

You laugh, shaking your head. It startled you when Otis first told you he was opening up sex clinic, with the infamous Maeve Wiley, no less, but now it had become a source of amusement. Your awkward best friend, giving sex advice to your classmates? Of course you found the whole situation hilarious. Tilting your head, you say, “I have to say, you’ve become really popular lately. I feel like I can barely get you alone, nowadays.” 

Otis chuckles, nodding in agreement. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he continues, “Yeah, I don’t know how to feel about it all. Suddenly everyone knows who I am and wants to hear what I have to say.”

You frown slightly, noticing Otis’ slumped shoulders. He’s overwhelmed, you realise, and you lean closer to him as a smile sneaks onto your face, “Aw, you look like you need a hug.” 

“Don’t you dare—!” Otis tries to protest through laughter, but he doesn’t put up much of a fight as you wrap your arms around him. He smiles, resting his head on top of yours, hugging you back. This is nice, he thinks, as he squeezes his arms around you, and you lean into his chest. Neither of you move away from one another, the moment feeling oddly intimate, and you swear, you can hear Otis’ heartbeat quickening.

Your phone dings with a notification, startling you, and you move away to pull your phone out of your pocket. Your eyes widen as your texts, and you’re too preoccupied to notice the blush that’s filled Otis’ face. Getting up, you explain, “Sorry, I’ve got to go. Got band practice!”

You wave goodbye, sprinting off, and Otis nervously gulps as he watches you leave. Shaking his head, he mutters to himself, “Oh God… I think I’m in love with you.”

[onthepageoftears]

Sick Day (Otis Milburn x Reader)//Sex Education

A/N: This was supposed to be posted tomorrow, but I just got to 100 subscribers! So, as a special (really small) celebration, I thought I would post it today! Enjoyyyy and thank you all for showing support!

Request: Hi! I love your stuff can I please get an Otis imagine where he is sick and reader takes care of him. Thanks 😇😇😇😇

Warnings: fluffffffff Im gonna choke on all the fluff

Words: 1,062

Please Do Not Plagiarize My Work!

(there are not enough otis gifs i swear)

Your face was filled with concern as you walked to Otis’ door, holding a basket full of food by your side. With a deep breath, you lightly knocked on the door in front of you, “Otis?”

All you heard was a groan in response.

“Otis, I’m coming in.” You turned the knob slowly and opened the door to near complete disaster; you almost didn’t see the floor from all the tissues thrown on it, and in the middle of Otis’ bed was a huge pile of blankets. Taking step in the room, you looked for your boyfriend. “Otis?”

A gasp escaped your lips as you heard mumbling coming from the pile on the bed. Slowly, you made your way over to it, tapping gently on the big mass. “Otis.”

“What? ”

“It’s Y/N.” Suddenly, the pile of blankets moved, and after a few seconds of commotion, Otis’ head emerge out of the mess. He had a very red nose and peaked at you through sleepy eyes; his hair was sorting out in every which way, and you smiled at his frazzled face.

“Y/N. What are you-“ he frowned, and you tried to not swoon at how hoarse his voice was. It took him a second to understand what was happening, but once he did, his eyes widened, a look of horror filling his face. “Our date. Oh my god. I completely forgot.” He starting pulling the blankets off himself, but you shook your head and pushed his body back into the bed.

“Otis. It’s okay. You need to rest.”

“But we planned this for weeks.”

He was right. You two had talked about having a gorgeous picnic in your favorite park for quite some time now. But with everything going on on your lives, it was hard to find the right time to do it. Eventually, you both decided that this weekend would be the perfect getaway, and you would finally have some quality time by yourselves.

But now, looking at the boy in front of you, it was obvious that those plans would have to wait. He could barely keep his eyes open, and he looked even more frail than usual.

“You look like you’re about to pass out and sneeze at the same time.” You said, smiling at the defeated look in his face.“Besides, today feels like more of a chill day.”

Otis went to speak, probably to try and convince you to leave him to suffer, but he stopped once you placed the back of your hand on his forehead, eyes widening at how warm it was. “Jean told me you were sick, but not how sick.” Noticing the basket still in your hands, you turned towards the door. “I’m gonna put this downstairs, and then I’ll help clean up this war zone a bit.”

“Wait-“ Otis tried to argue, but you were already out the door. You heard his groan of frustration behind you, along with the echo of a sneeze. Soon you were shoving food into Otis’ fridge, trying not to drool at the goods you cooked for hours on end. Not going on the picnic was a bummer, but it wasn’t like you couldn’t see Otis at all. Besides, he had a good reason; you knew if you were this sick, you probably wouldn’t even want to do anything but sleep.

Plus, Otis felt bad about being sick, which is the last thing a sick person needs. The best you could do was help him while he was sick. Luckily, you had made some soup for your picnic (though your friend said that was a dumb idea, you were glad you did it now) and you heated it up before going back up to Otis’ room.

He was in the same position you left him in, but his eyes were closed. You quietly put the soup on his side table and began cleaning up the mass of tissues.

“Is this from the picnic?” He asked after a while, and you sent him a smile as you threw away the last of the tissues.

“Yeah. It should still be warm.” He took the bowl and slowly sipped at the edge. He let out a satisfied hum and drank some more. “I’m guessing it came out okay?”

“More than okay.”

For the rest of the day, you lay next to Otis on his bed and let him get his rest. He would snuggle into your side and fall asleep, leaving you to watch the TV and try not to have your heart explode by how cute he was. Occasionally, Jean would come in to check on you two, and Otis would either be dead asleep or too tired to be embarrassed by the fact you were in the same bed.

It was nearly 7 pm when Otis pushed half the blankets off his bed and stretched his long limbs out. He was finally well rested, it seemed, and he turned to you with a smile.

“I’m already feeling better,” he said, and he was right: his nose was not nearly as red as it was that morning, and his eyes weren’t as heavy or glossed over.

“Good.” You smiled and played with his hand, tracing small patterns on his palm.

He tapped your arm lightly with his other hand, and when you looked up at him, you saw the regret in his eyes. “I’m sorry we couldn’t go on our picnic.”

“That’s okay.” Your smile widened as you took his hand in yours, blush rising in your cheeks. “Spending time with you is always great. No matter what it is we’re doing.”

A shy smile formed on Otis’ face and he leaned forward to plant a kiss on your lips. But right before he did, you pushed him away softly. “Um.” You grinned at the confusion that clouded his face. “You’re still sick.”

“Oh.” He moved away from you, cheeks growing redder than before. “Right. Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” You nudged him in the shoulder, a sigh escaping your lips.

“Thanks for taking care of me, by the way.” Otis spoke sincerely and you wished you could kiss him so bad.

“No problem. I want you to know that…if i….” You sneezed, nearly knocking the wind out of you. As soon as you recovered, you sent Otis a glare.

He smiled guiltily. “Bless you?”

“Otis, I swear to god-”

[acesthetically-pleasing]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sex Education (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Otis Milburn, Maeve Wiley, Eric Effiong, Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: 52 aspec drabbles, Asexual Character, Aromantic, Aromantic Character, Discovery, Sexual Identity, discovering sexuality, Coming Out, Asexuality, Originale AroAce character, Otis helps people, Teenagers Series: Part 33 of 52 aspec drabbles/ficlets of 2017 Summary:

"Maybe I am just like a super late bloomer or some shit but like... Sometimes I think I'm just broken, you know?"

Otis nods slowly, carefully, making sure Amy is done talking. He wonders how long it was brewing. And he does get it, god he does. For once it seems someone came to him with a problem he actually researched before.

33rd of 52 aspec drabbles that I've been working on for far too long! But I should finish them this year. It's one of my new year's resolutions, so it must come true. ;)

[ficnation]

𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

🍓 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 🍓

♡ - fluff

● - angst

❧ - platonic

✿ - female reader

➼ - male reader

✦ 𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍

🍓 Imagines 🍓

600 WORDS>

coming soon!

🍓 Headcanons 🍓

coming soon!

[myriadimagines]

Characters: Reader x Otis Milburn

Warnings: alcohol

Gif credit: katyazhuravlik

Spotify Prompt: 20. Blame It on Me by George Ezra: “When I dance alone, and the sun’s bleeding down, blame it on me.”

Word Count: 482

A/N: ok i’m not gonna lie i love this song but have no idea what the lyrics are about. but i gave it a shot!!!! (spotify prompts are not open)

Otis perks up upon seeing you across the room, nodding your head along to the music playing throughout Aimee’s house as you laugh along with your friends. He nervously runs his hands through his hair, smoothing his hands over his shirt as he hopes he looks presentable. Squaring his shoulders, he quickly excuses himself from his conversation with Eric and whoever Eric’s flirting with, and makes his way over to you. 

You look up as you see Otis approach, and you can feel your heart jump into your throat. You quickly look away as Otis tries to wave at you, trying to hide within your friend group as he approaches you. He awkwardly sidles up to you and your friend group, smiling at you as he greets, “Um, hi, y/n.”

You internally curse at your friends as they flash you teasing smiles, all deciding to walk to another part of the room and leaving you and Otis alone. Your gaze falls into your plastic cup, and you swirl your drink around as you mumble, “Hey, Otis.”

“I, um, didn’t know you’d be coming.” Otis remarks, and you shift your weight from one foot to another, unsure how to interpret the jumble of feelings that tosses and turns in your stomach. You’ve liked Otis for some time now, and yet you’ve seen him less and less ever since he opened the sex clinic with Maeve. You didn’t want your jealousy to get the better of you, but it felt harder and harder with each passing day that you saw the two together. Nodding towards your dancing classmates, Otis jokes, “Do you, uh, wanna dance?”

“Uh...” you manage to mumble out, not even having the energy to muster a smile. You look over your shoulder, trying to search for your friends in the crowd, scanning your classmates faces. Trying to walk away, you say, “No... no thanks. I... I’m going to go look for—”

“Are you avoiding me?” Otis suddenly blurts, and you look up at him in surprise. He nervously rubs the back of his neck, continuing, “I just... I just barely see you anymore, and—”

“And who’s to blame for that?” you interrupt, suddenly overwhelmed and upset as your hands begin to tremble. Otis’ eyes widen at you, and you quickly bite your lip, “I’m going to go, Otis.”

Otis quickly darts in front of you before you can walk away. “Wait, let’s talk this out, please.”

“Don’t treat me like of your clients, Otis,” you let out a sharp laugh at his almost soothing, clinical tone. “I’m your friend. Or, at least I thought I was.”

Otis blinks at you, incoherent words tumbling from his open lips as he stares at you in disbelief. Shaking your head, you turn away before Otis can see the tears well in your eyes, and rushing off as you leave him to dance alone.

[onthepageoftears]

Little Secrets (Maeve Wiley x Reader)//Sex Education

A/N: I kind of combined requests for this one because it just kind of happened that way lol but it was really fun to write!! This one is pretty long too so ill leave you to it ;)))

(title from the song of the same name by Passion Pit)

Requests:

can i request a maeve fic where her and the reader pretend to hate each other but are secretly friends with benefits? they both have deeper feelings for the other but neither want to admit it, and the reader goes to Otis for advice

Hey, I love your writing!! Can I request number 4,18,34 from the drabble list with Maeve x reader?

Warnings: enemies to lovers, mentions of sex, friends with benefits, language, ANGST IM GONNA CRY, but also the FlUfFiEsT FlUfF THAt eVeR FlUfFeD

Words: 2,055 yowzaa

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

When you first met Maeve, you didn’t think anything but hate could come of your relationship.

The first thing she said to you was: “Fuck off.” You accidentally bumped into her in the hallway, making her drop all her books. She only snarled those very words when you tried to apologize, and from then on you managed to form your own grudge for her, one of absolute chance. Maybe, if you hadn’t met that day, you two could have hit it off right away. But that’s not how it happened.

It was safe to say that you didn’t hate her; you hated the fact that she hated you, for some reason. Just because you caught her (or, pushed her) at a bad time, the two of you had to fix your glares to each other in the hall, or in class. It was like a game of who could hate the other more: whether it be through glares, words, or middle fingers, the two of you were in a constant battle of hate.

After a while, your hate for her subsided. You actually looked forward to hearing her newest remark and couldn’t wait to see her reaction when you spit out yours. You couldn’t hide the hope in your eyes when you found her in the library, waiting for her to look up so you could reach into your pocket and pull out your middle finger. And you would be lying if you weren’t ecstatic that you were paired with her for an English project.

Once you approached her, watching her lick her lips as she turned the page of her newest read, you realized this hatred was more of a lust. Though you had thought about it before, you never fully put the pieces together.

And then you two were in your room, grudgingly trying to work on your project while also trying to keep your hands to yourselves. It was only an hour of solid work when you suddenly felt the air in the room become a thin string of sexual tension, being cut off when she finally turned to you and grabbed your face in her hands, pulling you into a desperate kiss. You tangled your hands in her hair and let her push you back on the bed, quickly ripping your clothes off and ridding yourselves of the long awaited intimacy that had been clouding in your eyes ever since you bumped into each other.

And ever since then, you had been seeing each other quite often. Friends with benefits, as people called it. Though, you weren’t friends, not yet. You were just benefits, meeting up in the breaks of class and the free time you had after school just for a solid fuck. You weren’t complaining; Maeve was hot, and you were into it, and you didn’t care if that meant sneaking around to be with her. It was just benefits, like you two agreed, and it would stay that way. At least, that’s what you thought.

Slowly, you spent more time together; after a good makeout session in the asbestos bathrooms, you would end up talking about classes, books, movies, bands. You weren’t lethal with each other anymore, not even outside of your “relationship”. You just ignored each other in the ‘real world’, or the world outside of your little secret. But when you were together, the small whispers and soft touches after the sex was what you really looked forward to. Which is when you realized you were catching feelings.

So you told Maeve that. You told her you two should probably stop, that this friends with benefits was becoming more ‘friends’ than ‘benefits’, and you knew she wouldn’t want that. But surprise overtook you when she declined your offer to stop seeing each other, and instead said: “We should see where it ends up. Like an experiment.”

An experiment. You had never been good with science, but you supposed an experiment couldn’t hurt. And it didn't, at first. It actually felt really, really good. You both had a lot more in common than you thought, and your chemistry was much more meaningful than it had been when it was all based on sex. Now, the two complimented each other, and you felt like you were in a state of euphoria.

You two still kept your relationship a secret, because you both weren’t out yet and didn’t want to hear all the gossip and drama that would undoubtably commence. Or maybe it was the thrill of the secrecy, of this little pact between the two of you.

And everything would have stayed the same if Eric hadn’t caught you two making out in the asbestos filled bathroom shortly after your lunch period. Later, you told Maeve you were lucky he didn’t find you two a little bit later, where you would’ve probably had your hand down her pants, but she just rolled her eyes.

“I won’t tell anyone, I swear,” Eric said, fearful by the way Maeve clenched her jaw and held eye contact a little too strongly.

“Maeve, it’s fine,” you said, laying a hand on her shoulder. She ripped herself away from your grasp, but didn’t see the hurt in your eyes.

“I really won’t tell,” Eric said again, this time turning to you. He hadn’t known you too well, but well enough; you had been friendly with him during Maeve’s work with the ‘clinic’, and you nodded your head at the boy with a small smile.

“It’s okay, Eric. I trust you.” You watched the boy fumble away, still shocked by Maeve’s intimidation. She hadn’t been like that with him, or you, for a long time.

“That was kind of hot,” you remarked dumbly, hoping your rash comment would crack a smile in her angry face. But she didn’t even twitch, and you nearly face palmed as you watched her grab her bag. You softened your eyes, now realizing she was upset. Really upset. “What’s wrong?” You asked calmly, already knowing she wouldn’t tell you, at least not right away.

“Nothing,” she said, pushing past you with a glint of pain in her eyes. “I’ll see you later.”

You waited for her text, for her to tell you she was pissed or at least invite you over to talk. But the text never came. It was painful, watching your phone and only seeing the background of you two flipping the bird at the camera. You turned your eyes away, trying to focus on class. But how could you? Maeve was upset, and when Maeve was upset, you were upset. You two were like that. Always connected, even though no one else knew about it.

No one else knew about it. It had started to bother you more recently; the fact that you couldn’t hold her hand in the hallways, couldn’t kiss her cheek goodbye unless it was behind closed doors. You couldn’t make out in the main hallway of school, even though you both thought that was tacky and disgusting. But the idea that you couldn’t made you want it, and you wanted her so bad. You had her, but no one else could see. And you wanted them to see.

So, you were kind of glad when Eric found you. It was like a weight lifted from your chest, and your heart filled with hope at the chance of being with Maeve, in public. But then Maeve was upset, angry, distant. And now you were too.

She couldn’t avoid you for long; at least, that’s what you told yourself as you waited at your usual meet up in the asbestos bathroom. She hadn’t texted you all night, and you had begun to feel like you lost her, or wonder if you even had her to begin with. And all day you wondered that: does she think of me as much as I think of her? Did she even want this relationship to begin with? Was this ‘experiment’ going as far for her as it was for you? Or were you really just friends with benefits?

No. You refused to believe that. But the nagging in your brain wouldn’t stop, and you decided to go to the boy who maybe, somehow, could help you.

“Just talk to her,” Otis said simply after you spilled your entire story to him.

“That’s it?” He shrugged, unbothered by the harshness of your tone. You rolled your eyes but thanked him nonetheless, and got away from him as quick as possible. Could’ve come to that conclusion myself, you thought; but the truth was, you were purposefully procrastinating the talk you needed to have with Maeve, and Otis’ advice only made you mad because you knew it was true. Which is why you found Maeve at school soon after, in the library, and stood in front of her until she looked up from her book.

“We need to talk,” you said, grabbing her hand in public- though not the way you had always wanted to - and bringing her to one of the non-asbestos infested bathrooms. You looked at her seriously, trying to catch her eyes as they looked anywhere but you. “You’re avoiding me,” you said, ignoring the crack in your voice and the tears welling up in your eyes. You thought you wouldn’t cry, but now that you saw her, in front of you but still so distant, you couldn’t help but feel your throat tighten.

She clenched her jaw and glanced at you, quick, like it pained her to even to that. “No, I haven’t.”

“Are you serious?” You watched her face through blurry, tear filled eyes. “Ever since Eric saw us, you’ve been so distant…and I want to know why.” You wiped the tears on your cheeks angrily. “Are you testing me? Is this a part of our ‘experiment’? Or…is this some reverse psychology shit to make to break up with you?”

“No!” She jumped forward, placing a hand on your arm. You nearly pulled away, but the softness of her fingers make your heart nearly burst. “I don’t want to break up with you. Not at all.”

“What is it then?”

She took a deep breath, leaning against the sink behind her. “Do you know how long people have called me cockbiter?”You didn’t bother answering, knowing she would tell you anyway. “Too long. And do you know what they would say if they knew about you? About us?”

“Of course I do.” You frowned, a dry laugh escaping your lips. “I hear what they say behind those other girls' backs. I hear what they say everyday, and even though it’s not about me, or us, I still feel lit like it is. And if hearing that shit means that I get to spend time with you and share how much I love you to the world, then so be it.”

She turned to you, eyes wide. It looked like a bit of fear and surprise swirling in her glance, but tears welled up in her eyes as well. “You love me?”

You didn’t realize you said it, but now that you had, it was so clear. Instead of responding, you took a step forward, placing your hands on her cheeks and laying a soft kiss on her lips. “If you aren’t ready, it’s okay. But I don’t want to keep us a secret forever.”

She looked at you, the anger that you two once held dissipating into the air. It was strange to think that once upon a time you hated each other, and for such a dumb reason. But now, looking into her eyes, all you could see was love - even if she didn’t say it.

“If you aren’t ready, it’s okay,” you found yourself saying again, still holding onto Maeve like she would run away any second.

She looked at you, almost suddenly, with determination in her eyes. “I’m ready.”

And the two of you walked out of the bathroom, hand in hand, not giving a fuck about the people around you; you didn’t hear the slight murmurs or see the all too obvious posting of fingers. You both just focused on each other, on what your love was and what it would become, and you smiled wide at the thought that your love was no longer a secret. 

[onthepageoftears]

Under Pressure (Otis Milburn x Reader) // Sex Education

A/N: Sorry this is so short! I wanted to write an Otis imagine since I haven’t in a while, but this one was kind of a small prompt so I didn’t write as much. But now I at least have time to work on some homework…

Request: can i request a fic where otis is frustrated and stressed one day or really sad and the reader comforts them with cuddles and just general fluff?

Warnings: slight panic attack, fluff and cuddles

Words: 878

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

You were waiting for Otis in his room, sliding your fingers over his vast record collection. He had texted you in the middle of class, telling you he’d be a bit late to hang out because he had clinic work. You noticed he was very on edge lately; you assumed it was because of his clinic work, but something told you it was more than that. “I’m fine,” he’d say, though the way he averted his eyes made you frown. You didn’t think he was lying, per se, but you knew there was something else bothering him. Still, you tried to be there for him, to support him when he wasn’t having the best of days. So, you took it upon yourself to go to his house after school and wait in his room for him to get home; you were looking at his favorite albums when he barged through the door.

“Otis?”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” He threw his bag on the floor and rubbed his hands over his face. You blinked, surprised by his abruptness. You had seen Otis like this a couple times before - when he was stressed about the clinic - but each time it surprised you the same.

“About what?”

He slid his hands down and ripped off his jacket, struggling with the sleeves and groaning in frustration. “My mom. She’s so…I don’t know. She’s horrible.”

You watched him as he finally tugged the sweater off and threw it to the other side of the room. “What happened?”

“She’s always in my business. She literally can’t function without telling everyone about my life.”

“Okay,” you lowered your voice, taking a step toward him. He was mumbling now, randomly gesturing and letting out huffs of annoyance. “Otis.” He kept talking, pacing the room and frowning so hard you thought it would hurt his face.You moved closer, watching the boy breathe heavily, eyes growing wider with each sentence that his hectic brain created. “Otis?”

He still didn’t answer, and from where you were you could hear his light curses.

“She’s crazy - ‘Otis this, Otis that’. Telling everyone what happens in my life before I even know it-“

By then you were in front of him, blocking him from pacing - though he almost ran into you. You placed your hands in front of you, laying them on his chest. Your hands moved with his breaths, and somehow, it made him calm down. He automatically let his shoulders sag, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

“I’m sorry-“ he started, but you wrapped your arms tightly around him, laying your head on his chest and listening to his rapid heartbeat. The boy always had a racing heart, especially when you were close to him. It was much worse when you first started dating: he told you that he thought he was having a heart attack after you first kissed him. Now, you couldn’t tell if his heart was beating fast from your hug, or from the anger. Nevertheless, you stood there for a second, letting him place his arms on your back and just breathe. 

The last time he had a panic attack, you did the same thing. Something about your touch calmed him, while simultaneously giving him a rush. Still, he told you that you were his anchor of sorts, something that could calm him down in the worst of scenarios. Right now, you felt him sink into your heart melting touch, almost like he was giving up the fight he was having with himself.

“Let’s go lay down, yeah?” You whispered, smiling as he nodded with a small smile. You tugged him over to his bed and lay down next to him, pulling his arm above you so you could snuggle in close to his chest. He let out another sigh, wrapping his arm around your waist and placing his hand to caress your cheek.

“How do you do that?” He whispered, as if in a trance. “Make me forget my…strange crisis?” You smiled up at him with a giggle and placed a small kiss on his lips, leaning back down to lay on his chest. 

“It’s magic.” You said, pushing yourself deeper into him, almost forcing him to relent his stress.You felt him take another deep breath, and you looked up to see his closing his eyes. He rubbed his thumb along your arm - it was something he did when he was nervous, something to make him feel more grounded. 

You didn’t want to ask Otis what happened, not until he was ready to. But he said something about his mom, and you couldn’t help but be curious. You knew his mother could be horribly nosy and invasive, sure. But what she did must have been really bad if Otis was this bent out of shape. 

You looked up at the boy, whose breathing slowed. Could he be asleep? You smiled again and lay your head on his chest. You would ask him about the situation later, when he was well-rested. He was stressed with the clinic, and school, and now his mother. All you could do was be there for him, and to help him de-stress, even if it was just for a little while.

[onthepageoftears]

Worth It (Maeve Wiley x Reader)//Sex Education

A/N: Leave it to Maeve Wiley to get you out of your writer’s block…this took a bit longer than I would’ve liked but I hope you guys like it!

Requests:“loveeee your account btw :D imma request a Maeve x reader where the reader’s parents are super strict on her and don’t let her go out or drink or anything, and they say she isn’t allowed to go to the prom. So, Maeve and r make a plan to sneak r out, and they get drunk/high together..but r’s parents find out and are furious. maybe like a few part series?”

“hiii, Request for Mave x reader where they both get drunk and are super sweet to eahciher and reader goes on about maeve’s smile etc! maybe it’s at Aimee’s party n everyone is shocked to see maeve being all soft!”

Warnings: underage drinking, partying, language, flufff

Words: 1,172

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

“We’re going to get caught.” You said, eyes lingering on the house behind you, your house, the one you just snuck out of.

A grin played on Maeve’s lips, the twinkle in her eye shining brighter in the night. “You’ve never done anything bad, have you?”

You shrugged, trying to ignore the smugness laced in Maeve’s words. She was right. You never did anything to go against your parents, and this was a clear break of their rules. You snuck out of the house. To go to a party. On a school night.

You were screwed.

“It’s this way,” Maeve said, grabbing your arm to tug you down a small path that lead to Aimee’s house. You nearly forgot that your parents would probably have your grave ready by the time you got back, instead focusing on the way Maeve’s fingers wrapped around your skin, on the way your cheeks flamed and your stomach churned.

By the time you made it to the house, people were already smoking and drinking outside, slurring their words as you and Maeve passed. You two walked through the door, greeted by the familiar top artists blasting from the speakers, making your way to Aimee’s impressive kitchen. In there it was quiet, but not by much. You watched Maeve grab you two some drinks, anxiously tapping your foot on the ground.

“Here.” Maeve pushed a cup towards you, her eyes soft. “You need to relax.” You nearly rolled your eyes at the cup. Wasn’t this so cliche? But with the way Maeve looked at you, you didn’t care. You grabbed the cup, taking a tentative sip, before scrunching up your face in disgust.

“This is awful.” Maeve shrugged, letting the corner of her mouth lift as you took another sip.

Ever since you met Maeve, life seemed a little brighter. Okay, much brighter. She made something spark in you, something that felt dangerous. She felt dangerous. And you loved it.

But your parents didn’t. They thought she was trouble, thought she would hurt you. They told you you should know better, that you would ruin your life by hanging out with her. But in your eyes, you would ruin your life by staying in your house every night studying things that didn’t matter to you.

And soon, you felt even lighter than before, the alcohol finally buzzing through your veins. Your body felt warm as you leaned into Maeve’s side, giggling about something dumb you just said. The room was smaller, somehow, and you felt like the two of you were so, so close. You looked at Maeve, who was smiling at you, and you couldn’t believe how pretty she was. You loved her smile, and how warm it felt.

“You love my smile?” Maeve watched you with an amused smirk. You just laughed, not realizing you had said it aloud. “You must be really drunk.”

“I’m not drunk,” you snorted, lolling your head onto Maeve’s shoulder with a smile. Instead of moving it, you kept it there, snuggling into the warmth of her body without a care in the world. You closed your eyes, focusing on the soft heart beat that echoed in your ears. Your face was flushed; your whole body was, to be honest, and even more so when Maeve trailed her finger along the side of you cheek to get some hair out of your face. You probably blushed, too, but your thoughts were too busy to be embarrassed. It was only when you felt yourself fading into a slumber that Maeve decided it was time to take you home.

She slipped her hand around your waist and pushed you gently, smiling at the way you frowned at the sudden movement. “Come on, love.” She whispered, tugging you by her side towards the front door of Aimee’s house.

“Leaving so soon?” It was Aimee, and her eyes flicked between the two of you, a knowing smile forming on her lips.

“Curfew.” Maeve answered shortly, hoping that her clenched jaw would make up for the blush that inevitably formed on her cheeks. Unlike you, she couldn’t blame her flushed face on the alcohol: she hadn’t been drinking that much, because she wanted to make sure she got you home at a reasonable time. Your parents hated her enough already, and sneaking you out was a bad idea in itself; but this way, if they caught you, they couldn’t be angry about the time. Maybe.

“Where are we going?” You slurred, eyes slowly taking in the surroundings as you leaned on Maeve for support.

“I’m taking you home.”

“Ew.” She laughed, at both your words and the way you scrunched your face up in utter disgust. You were drunk, but not really drunk, because she had only given you a small amount of alcohol. But with the amount of drinking experience you had, it was no doubt that what you had was enough to give you a hangover tomorrow.

Maeve suddenly felt guilty. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. She already knew your parents hated her, but they would be even more mad at you for going through with this. Before she could think any further, you were tripping over your own feet, nearly falling face first in the dirt. “I’ve got you,” Maeve chuckled, keeping her arm firmly around your waist for the rest of the way back.

When you two got back to the house, your drunken haze came to a halt. Your parents. How were you going to get in the house past them?

“I feel sick.” You held a hand to your stomach, silently wishing you would vomit, but nothing came. You cursed to yourself, turning to Maeve with wide eyes. “What do I do?”

She bit her lip, shifting her eyes to the house and back to you. “Walk through the front door?”

You laughed abruptly, surprising yourself by how loud it was. But you didn’t care. “They are literally going to kill me.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m not.”

Maeve glanced at you, and suddenly, you two were in hysterics. You were laughing for what seemed like hours, pushing each other in an attempt to stop the breaths that escaped your mouths. But once you start laughing with someone, it’s almost like you couldn’t stop.

You wiped the tears from your eyes and looked at Maeve, whose smile turned to a look of concern.

“I’m sorry if I get you in trouble.”

You didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or just a surge of energy, but you walked over to Maeve, placing your hands on her face and lay your lips softly on hers. She grabbed your hips, pulling you closer, and you hummed lightly at your closeness. After a few moments, you pulled back, smiling wide at the girl in front of you.

“It was worth it.”

And it was. Even though your parents had a near stroke when you returned, and you were grounded for three weeks, you couldn’t have asked for a better night.

[onthepageoftears]

New Kid (Otis Milburn x Reader) //Sex Education

A/N: 200 follower celebration starts with this Otis fic and hopefully there’ll be a Maeve one later (rip my essay due monday)! Also writing the title made me think of the New Kids On the Block scene from It (2017)...anyway here’s the Otis fluff lol

Request: hi!!! i love your writing!! can you do an otis x reader where the reader is new at school and she gets paired with otis for a project and she thinks he’s cute and is all awkward and then fluff

Warnings: moving?? fluff???

Words: 1,463

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

School projects are the absolute worst. The teacher would, 80% of the time, pair you with a random kid in class, and you would have to pretend to not be pissed that it wasn’t your friend. Then, you would have to somehow scrounge up a project with this random person that you either never talked to before or who you barely knew, most likely doing all the work. You almost always had to present, which meant getting up in front of the class. If you were paired with someone who was talkative, you were lucky, but that almost never happened.

So yeah. Group projects sucked. But you know what sucked even more?

Being the new kid.

Now imagine group projects, but knowing absolutely no one, so not even being able to make some sort of agreement on how the project would go down. Because as the new kid, you had no clue who you would be paired with, what they were like, how much of an asshole they were. So when your new teacher paired you up with the lanky boy who sat alone, you dreaded the possibilities. Maybe he’s a creep, you thought. Maybe he eats his own earwax.

Your teacher instructed you to go meet your partners, and you rolled your eyes, making your way over to the boy. You stood next to the table, watching him skeptically as he sent you a small smile and a wave. Before he could say anything, you cleared your throat.

“I may be the new kid, but I’m not dumb.” You said as you plopped your stuff down next to him. “If you’re not going to do any of the work, just tell me now so I don’t have to wait for you to never respond and end up doing everything the last second.”

“Um. No, I would never-“ you turned to the boy, who was watching you with wide eyes. “I’m going to do the work.”

“Good.” You ignored the way his blue eyes pierced yours, turning back to your notebook and slamming open a new page. “We can start today, if that’s good with you.”

“Yeah, of course. I’m Otis, by the way.”

You looked at the boy again, this time with a softer expression. You scanned his face quickly, noting the slanted smile on his lips and the anxious glaze in his eyes. Maybe he wasn’t a creep after all. With a sigh, you sent him a small wave. “Y/N.”

“Great.” He blinked and turned back to his desk, and you could tell he was just staring at his paper and not really reading his notes.

Maybe this group project wouldn’t be so bad, you thought, and turned to your own notebook with a blush.

—

Otis got to your house a lot earlier than you expected.

“On time is late,” he had said, and you just shrugged, stepping aside to let him in. You were glad your parents worked so much, so you wouldn’t have to explain anything about your life to them. They wouldn’t care that Otis was going to be in your room, to be honest, but the less they knew, they better. Even having Otis come to your house made you nervous, because getting close to people was always hard for you. But when he nearly freaked out at the idea of you coming to his, you shrugged it off and shoved your fear aside.

You walked past the still unpacked boxes that lingered in your room and over to your bed, turning around to see Otis take in his surroundings. It made you a bit nervous, standing there as he inspected your life, but something about him was different. You liked him, but that almost made you even more scared.

Trying to shake off your nerves, you cracked a smile and gestured to the room around you. “Welcome.”

Otis smiled, but purposefully pushed the door open a bit with his hand. You could tell he was nervous to be in your room, alone, but you decided not to point it out. Instead, you sat on your bed, unpacking some of your school stuff.

“What’s it like, being the new kid?”

You chuckled, placing your books on the floor and leaning back into the bed. “Imagine your worst day at school, and then think of it ten times worse.”

“Do you move a lot?” He was looking around the room for a place to sit, so you patted the spot next to you with a smile. He almost didn’t come over, but relented when you kept patting the bed.

“Four times since I was eight.” You moved over as he sat down, stomach flipping at how close he was. Shaking it off, you rolled your eyes. “But this time, it’s ‘permanent’.”

“That sucks.”

“Hm.” You two sat there for a moment, silent in your own thoughts. You turned to the boy, watching his eyes roam the things you had managed to take out of the boxes: your camera, some books, movies, and a poster that was hung on your wall. Your eyes flicked to the small moles on his face, then to his angular nose, then to his lips. They looked so soft…

“We should get started,” you said suddenly, making Otis jump slightly in his spot.

“Right. Yes. We should…do that.”

—

It had been a mere hour of research when you plopped back on your bed to stare at the ceiling. You didn’t feel like doing any more work, and you guess Otis didn’t either, because he closed his book soon after you did.

“I don’t want to do anymore work,” you voiced, eyes focused on the new ceiling that you were trying not to get used to.

Otis chucked. “We haven’t really done much to begin with.” He was right. You two had done barely any research, finding yourselves discussing your favorite bands and artists and albums. You learned that Otis was way cooler (and cuter) than you originally thought, and that made you even more restless.

Abruptly, you sat up, shoving the book off your lap and frowning. Otis looked at you, curiosity filling his features. “I like you,” you blurted, scratching your forehead in contemplation.

“Me…too?”

“No, I mean-“ You turned towards him, but only slightly, otherwise you would be way too close to his face. ”I like you, but I’m not supposed to like anyone. Because I could be moving.”

Otis tilted his head slightly, and you tried to ignore the way he licked his lips. “Didn’t you say this was a more permanent move?”

“My dad always says permanent.” You averted your eyes and hugged your arms around your waist. Vulnerability wasn’t your strong suit, but for some reason you felt more comfortable around this near-stranger next to you. “I never know when he’s telling the truth, because he practically never is.”

“Well.” You felt Otis shift on the bed; turning his body towards you, you felt his leg brush against yours, making your heart leap. “Maybe you could talk to him about it? Or at least live in the moment as best you can.”

“It’s hard, though. Leaving friends and relationships behind.” You gulped, trying not to remember all of the past moves.

“I can’t imagine.” Otis bought a hand to the back of his neck, scratching it nervously. “But it’s probably better than living in your own shell of loneliness.”

You turned your gaze fully on Otis and smirked. He was weird, but one hundred percent right. The past few years you had learned to distance yourself from others, in ways you simultaneously hated and loved. Not connecting with people was easy, but living in your own mind was hard. Really hard. But for some reason, this time, you had opened your heart - and of all the people, it ended up being this weird boy with way too much wisdom for his own good.

You smiled wider, watching Otis tap his fingers against his knee in anticipation. “You are one strange kid, you know that?”

He shrugged and mimicked your smile. “I’ve been told.”

You laughed, heart warming at the idea of getting to know the person in front of you. So many years of hiding from people just because you were afraid of letting them into your life, and you somehow felt like this time it would be different. You stood from your spot and cleared your throat, sending the boy another smile. “This project won’t work on itself. What do you say we go have some recharging dinner?”

Otis raised his eyebrows but stood nonetheless, wiping his undoubtably clammy hands on his pants. Still, he smiled, and your stomach fluttered freely for the first time in a while. “I think that’s a…great idea.”

[onthepageoftears]

Trust Issues (Maeve Wiley x Reader)//Sex Education

A/N: Okay so I wrote this super quickly and I don’t think it came out the way I wanted it to, but tbh I’m not too motivated by the suggestions in my inbox :/ if you guys have any other ideas/fandom requests please send them in!

Request: can you write a fic where Maeves brother leaves and the reader comforts her?

Warnings: fluff??

Words: 751

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

Maeve had a problem with trusting people.

Trusting meant being disappointed, and disappointment meant pain. And Maeve didn’t need any more pain in her life than she already had. She trusted her parents, and they bailed on her. She trusted her brother, and he ended up disappearing as well. So now, she didn’t let herself trust as easily.

She took cautious steps. Anyone who tried to get close, she would push them away. Whether it was through her cruel words or mean stares, she made sure people would fear her before they would trust her. Because if they could get past her fear, then they were worthy of her trust.

She was surprised when you had gotten past that barrier. She was harsher with you, it seemed, because she felt like you were someone she could really care about. But as usual, she put up her venomous walls to protect herself from the inevitable pain that came with any given relationship. Still, you pushed through, going out of your way to talk to her and recommend new books and music that you just knew she would like, because that was the type of person you were.

You didn’t mind that Maeve rolled her eyes at your excitement or half listened when you talked about the new movie you saw, because you were drawn to her. For what reason, Maeve didn’t know. But you grew on her, and her walls were crumbled down as you two grew closer and closer.

And somehow, your presence made her less angry. She felt lighter, and found herself trusting more people than usual. She would smile randomly when she thought of you, and wouldn’t even try to hide it. You were her kryptonite, but in the best way.

So when her brother left again, all she could feel was anger. She let her guard down, let herself trust more people than she could handle. This was exactly what she tried to avoid, but ended up getting wrapped in anyway.

Though she knew it wasn’t your fault, she was mad at you. Because of your stupidly cute smile and your inability to hold a grudge, she was let down again. She believed you when you said she was worth it, and now look at her: she had no family to support her, and would probably be expelled. If I was fine with being alone before, I’ll be fine again, she told herself. But she wasn’t. And that made her more angry.

So, she thought about ignoring your knocks on her trailer door, thought of hiding under her covers and never leaving her bed again. But then she thought of your frown, she couldn’t help but swing the door open to your smiling face.

“Hey!” You greeted, a little too perkily for her stay of mind. She grumbled back, not even looking in your direction when she took a spot on the couch where her brother should have been. She didn’t notice your frown, the way your face softened at the slightly empty trailer, how you knew her brother left again without her even uttering a word.

You looked at her on the couch; she somehow looked so small in the trailer, so fragile. This wasn’t the Maeve you were used to, the Maeve who flipped you off when you teased her or rolled her eyes at your corny jokes. And there was something about Maeve, that you had learned in your time knowing her: she didn’t like to admit when she was upset, or having a hard time. No one did, but her especially. She wouldn’t talk about it if you asked her, and she definitely wouldn’t tell you on her own.

So, without thinking too much about it, you walked over to the couch and sat next to the girl, taking her hand in yours and leaning your head on her shoulder. She stiffened at first; though she wasn’t unused to your physical affections, they still took her off guard. But her heart nearly melted at the way you rubbed a thumb over her knuckles, at the warmth of your body as it snuggled close to hers; and she felt herself breath, as if for the first time in a while.

Maeve had a problem with trusting people. She may not have a family to rely on, or a decent future to look forward to. But for once, she felt like there was one person she could trust, no matter what. And that person was you.

[onthepageoftears]

Just Teasing (Maeve Wiley x Reader)// Sex Education

A/N: And here is the second post of the 200 follower celebration!! Legit had to look up how to flirt for this one because ya girls got no experience and I am DEFINITELY not confident lolll but anyway i have a lot of maeve requests that I’m excited to get to but this was the one that spoke to meee also i mixed the two together because that’s just how it worked out so i hope thats okayyy anyway go read it lol

(yes that was one big run-on i promise the writing is better down below)

Request: @becomingpeterw​ could you please write a maeve wiley x reader where they flirt with each other as a joke over the span of a few months but one of them decides to "do something about it"? like, ask the other person out or just kiss them out of the blue? could be a follow up to the "can I kiss you?" fic..? I LOVE your writing 💖

Heeeeeyyy. Love ur fics! Could u do a maeve x reader where r is flirting with maeve everyday and maeve keeps rejecting r but one day r stopped because r is hanging out with someone else but maeve is VERY jealous because she secretly likes r but too scared to admit it

Warnings: language, flirting(?), fluffffffff

Words: 1,862

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

You were never much for flirting. That was, of course, before you knew Maeve.

You had been playing this game with Maeve since the day you meant her; something about her sparked something in you. You were not necessarily confident, but something about her made you feel like your best self. And even though Maeve hardly thought of you in the way you thought of her, being in her presence was enough. Even if it was only for a few moments each day.

You were mostly teasing her: sending her a wink in the hallway, blowing a kiss to her at her locker. She would only laugh, roll her eyes, sometimes flip you the bird with a smirk. She never told you to stop, never cursed you out angrily or seriously; if she did, you would’ve stopped immediately.

“I think she likes it a little too much,” Eric told you once. Even though you shook him off, told him there’s no way, it was just teasing…a spark of hope erupted in you, and you almost believed him. You spent more time with her, just joking around during class or during break, trying to get her to blush. You succeeded sometimes, and when you did, you tried even harder to keep the pink in her cheeks; somehow, she would pull the strings on you and you would cover your face in embarrassment. But you liked it, the thing you two had, the little quips and inside jokes and playful banter.

And then, she started dating Jackson, and you pushed yourself away. You didn’t tease her after that; in fact, you almost ignored her. It hurt you a bit too much to admit how involved you had gotten in the silly games you played, but you knew it was true. You really liked Maeve, and seeing her with someone else was close to torture. She didn’t seem to mind your absence - at least, that’s how it looked to you. Later she would tell you how she would look for you over Jackson’s shoulder, waiting for you to flirt with her in the shameless way you did.

But today, you hadn’t talked to her for a while. You were walking up to school when you saw her leaning against one of the brick walls that overlooked the main schoolyard. She looked upset, but like she was trying to hide it. Before you could change your mind, you walked over to her, taking the spot next to her with a sigh.

“How nice to see you, Wiley.” You peaked at her from the corner of your eyes. “I can’t even remember the last time we spoke. We need to change that.”

Maeve let out a light snort and you could tell that she rolled her eyes at you. You didn’t mind. “You haven’t talked to me in so long. Is that all you got?”

You felt a pang in your chest at her words, but smirked nonetheless. “You know it isn’t.” Tilting your head, you kept your eyes in front of you, trying to focus on your peers as they walked to the school.

As you took a deep breath, you tried to shake the strange feeling that lingered in your heart. You guessed it was awkwardness, being that you haven’t talked to Maeve for a while and she had called you out on it. Could she have missed me? No, you shook out the thought. She was with Jackson. Even if she did miss you, it didn’t matter in the way you wanted it to.

But you could also feel that there was something wrong, something that she had been thinking about for a while. You didn’t ask her about it, and instead decided she might just want some company. You didn’t expect her to tell you what was wrong, but she did it anyway.

“I broke up with Jackson.” Maeve spoke suddenly, and you turned to her in disbelief. “I don’t know why I’m telling you that.”

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the bit of hope that rose in your chest. “Was there a reason?”

Maeve bit her nail, like she always did, and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

The silence between you two was a bit awkward, and you knew it. You cleared your throat, trying to think of something to say. “Love is weird. It’s like…softball, in gym. One minute you’re standing in the outfield, watching the pitcher and wondering when you’ll get to go inside. The next minute there’s a ball coming towards you, and you get smacked straight in the forehead because you didn’t raise your mitt in time.”

She looked at you with a strange smile. “Was that a personal experience?”

You shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. The point is, love is unpredictable. You could be ready for it, and nothing could happen. You could be ready for it, and catch it before it hits you. You could be totally unprepared and dodge it. Or…vice versa.” You smacked your head with your hand, trying to illustrate your point.

“That was a very strange analogy. But…it was a good one.” She laughed, her eyes sparkling; she turned to you slightly, a look of false amazement taking over. “Who would’ve thought you would give good advice?”

You snorted, deciding to play along with her.“Are you kidding? I give great advice.”

“Sure, sure.” She let her smile die down, turning back to her nails with a frown. “I guess I never really thought of…talking to you. You know, like normal.”

“Yeah, well, that’s your loss. I’m a delight.” Maeve shook her head, looking down at her feet. You watched her with a growing smile, just realizing the small patches of pink on her cheeks.

“Was that a…” you smiled wider, turning your body fully towards her. “blush?”

“Shut up.” She leaned forward, pushing your shoulder slightly with her hand. But instead of pulling away, she stayed close; her hand moved down slowly, ghosting along your arm and lightly grazing your hand as she pulled her own to her side. You took a sharp intake of breath, trying not to breathe as she was so close to you.

You blinked, half expecting this to be a dream. Like you would wake up and come to school, and Jackson and Maeve would be together and you would be forever alone. But when you opened your eyes again, she was looking at your lips, slightly pouting her own. You felt her breath on your face, and your heart was racing, and you couldn’t believe this was happening. Was this really happening? But before your lips could meet, the bell rang.

“Shit,” you cursed, both of you jumping at the shrill and unwelcoming sound. You turned to see Maeve grabbing her books and fast walking away.

“See you later!” She called, but she was clearly avoiding your eyes.

“Shit.” Grabbing your own bag, you went towards your class, replaying the events in your head like they didn’t really happen, like you were finally at the peak of your imagination. But what happened was real, and that might’ve been even worse.

All day you were thinking about what happened: did Maeve really want to kiss you? Or was it because she was confused about her feelings, and about Jackson? You were freaking out in nearly every class. You didn’t tell anybody, partly because you didn’t know if it was just your imagination, and partly because you didn’t want to be let down again.

After being that close to Maeve, all of your feelings resurfaced. You really liked her, a lot, and if she didn’t feel the same way, it might crush you again.

The final bell rang, and you left your class with a million thoughts. Should I talk to Maeve? Tell her how I feel? What if she thinks I’m joking? What if she gets mad at me? What if she’s already back with Jackson? What if today really was a dream, and I’m going to wake up in an alternate reality where I’m 30 and alone-

As you turned the corner, you bumped into something hard. Rubbing your forehead, you cursed. “Jesus Christ.”

You frowned, feeling a bump already form on your head. You looked up to the culprit, ready to push past them and call it a day. But your eyes widened at the person in front of you.

“Maeve?”

She was holding her hand to her forehead, same as you, but her chest was heaving like she had been running. To find you? No, it couldn’t be.

“Bloody hell, are you running a marathon? I think you’d be in first place at that rate, for sure.” You gestured to the mark on your forehead, rubbing it lightly with a wince. You were avoiding her eyes, mostly because you were afraid that your feelings would spill out in one glance. But you couldn’t help it: she was looking at you like you were the only thing in the hallway, even though there were many other kids.

You cleared your throat, suddenly nervous. “Did that bang give you head trauma or something?”

“I didn’t just break up with Jackson out of nowhere.” She said abruptly, watching your face intensely. You shifted on your feet, unsure of what to say.

Blinking dumbly, you frowned. “Okay-“

“I did it because I have feelings for someone else.”

Your heart stopped. Could she be saying what you thought she was saying? No way. You frowned harder with a shake of your head, trying to gather your thoughts.

“Come on.” She gestured to you with a smirk. “You’re always flapping that mouth of yours. Say something.”

All you could do was open and close your mouth, trying to find something, anything, to say.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me.” You uttered, hiding your eyes from the gaze that made your stomach drop.

She let out a frustrated groan and took a step towards you. “This is what I’m trying to tell you.” You nearly stepped back as she placed her hands on your face, leaning in slowly to capture your lips. But before you knew it, you were meeting her halfway, causing an explosion of sparks in your stomach. You placed a hand on her waist, your lips moving in a rhythm you didn’t think was possible. This wasn’t possible. All this time of wanting to be with Maeve, and finally, it was happening.

She pulled away, leaning her (injured) forehead against yours. 

“You were my softball,” she whispered, a laugh escaping her lips. 

You recalled your horrible analogy that day, not believing what she inferred. “Are you serious?” You said, looking into her eyes with confusion clouding your brain. 

She rolled her eyes with a smirk and whispered, “No.” The sarcasm laced in her voice disappeared when she caught your lips again, this time slower, more meaningful. You smiled into the kiss, half because you were finally with the girl you hadn’t stopped thinking about since you met her - but also because you knew that teasing her would be a lot more fun when you could do it behind closed doors.

[onthepageoftears]

Grand Plea (Sean Wiley x Reader) // Sex Education

A/N: Not sure how I feel about this one (since Sean wasn’t my fave character from sex education...) but I hope whoever suggested it is okay with it!

Request: would you be willing to writing about sean wiley (maeve's brother) maybe something along the lines of meeting him when he makes that g r a n d plea at the store when they're shopping for maeve's dress? love yaaaa <3

Warnings: mentions of army/death, veterans, orphans, and smoking; language

Words: 993 (so short i knowwww)

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

(lol this is the closest gif i could finddddd)

You had been helping your sister shop for a dress when the boy made his announcement. At first you just spaced out, thinking it was another warning about shoplifting. But then you realized the boy in the front, who was great at putting on a show, was telling a sob story of a painfully obvious fake past. Orphans, father died in the army, the whole shebang.

You rolled your eyes at the scene. You had done your share of dramatization in the past; having a single mother, it was hard for your family to get by. Still, when you made up lies to get some extra food on the table, or some Christmas presents for your younger siblings, you did it right. Simple and quick was best, and always was.

And after the boy finished talking, you almost felt bad for him. No way anybody would believe this crap; but then you looked around you. Everyone was either dabbing their eyes or holding a hand to their heart in understanding. Even your sister, who was mid sentence, stopped her rant about the sequins on the dress in front of her, just to listen to the bull spewing out of this kids’ mouth.

When he was finally done, you decided to approach him. What was the worst that could happen? One part of you thought he would deck you right in the face, with no hesitation; but the other part imagined him begging for forgiveness at your feet. Either way, it was bound to be interesting.

So, you headed over to him, where he was now leaning against the wall outside the dressing room, watching the other customers leave some money at the counter and point in his direction. He was smirking shamelessly at the way people nearly tripped over their feet to help his ‘sister’ in their ‘tragic situation’. You didn’t know what you were going over there for; you weren’t going to yell at him or scold him, you were just going over there. Just to do it.

“Next time, maybe cool it on the orphan shit.”

The boy turned suddenly, just noticing you as you stood next to him, looking straight ahead. He let his eyes drift down your figure as if didn’t care in the slightest that you could still see him. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

You scoffed, settling yourself onto the wall next to him. You crossed your arms over your chest and watched the hopeless customers. “It means you’re lucky it worked this time. The veteran father really made it work.”

He let out a laugh and relaxed a bit, moving himself a little closer to you. Leaning over, he spoke lowly. “Well what would you suggest next time?”

“Maybe a tear or two. Still say your dad was in the army, that’s good.” You blew a breath from your lips, ignoring the amused look he sent you. “Pile too much shit onto it and that’s all you’ve got.” You looked at him. “Shit.”

“I’ll be sure to hire you next time.” He put his hand in front of you with a smile. “Name’s Sean.”

“Y/N.” You said without taking his hand.

“Well, Y/N.” He leaned back in his spot and smirked. “Thanks for the input.”

Just then, a girl came out of the dressing room with a scowl. You recognized her as Sean’s sibling, or so he said; for all you knew, they could just be working together. Still, you sent her a wave with a sickly sweet smile. “Sorry for your loss.”

You winked at Sean and pushed yourself off the wall, not daring to look behind you. Instead, you made your way out of the store and to a small hallway to light a cigarette; your sister could find you later. You were wondering how long she would take when a shadow casted over you.

“Excuse me, I don’t think you’re supposed to smoke in here.”

“Shit, sorry,” you fumbled with the cigarette, stomping it on the ground with a sheepish smile. But when you looked up, the smile turned into a frown. “Ass.”

���That’s only what my sister calls me,” Sean said with a laugh, leaning against the wall next to you. “But that’s on the good days.”

“Hmph.” You crossed your arms over your chest, still pouting over the lost cigarette. “Where is she, anyway? Going to get some more pity dresses?”

Sean sent a surprised look at you; your tone was harsh, but you couldn’t help it. You were still salty that his dumb story worked, when it had taken you years to perfect your scavenging.

“Actually,” he played with the flip phone in his hands. “She thought the orphan thing was a bit much too. Guess I need to rethink my tactic, huh?” You stared at him for a second, but then shook your head with a smile.

“More like throw it out entirely.”

He placed a hand on his chest, fake hurt crossing his face. “Ouch.”

You smiled again, deciding not to fight it this time.

“Here.” He said suddenly, passing the flip phone to you. “I don’t use it much, but I want your number just in case I need help. With my tactics.” He winked at you, and you couldn’t help but take the phone from his hands. You tapped the buttons familiarly - it had only been recently that you upgraded you phone - and added your number.

Handing it back to him, you pushed yourself off the wall. “Text me when you have a better story.”

You walked back into the crowds of the mall, heading to the dress store where you left your sister. You tried not to imagine the smirk on Sean’s face as you left, or the way he might’ve checked you out again. You also didn’t watch your phone the next few days in hope of a text from him, and you definitely didn’t grin wide when it came.

[onthepageoftears]

Home Sweet Home (Maeve Wiley x Reader)//Sex Education

A/N: Sorry this is pretty short but I got swamped with school work and I’m legit drowning in it! I’m trying to keep some hobbies in my life so I don’t get too “work oriented”, but it’s so hard to balance them sometimes. Anyway, here is another requested Maeve drabble! I don’t have many requests besides an Eric x Reader (platonic) and another Maeve x Reader, so you can send in some more (but remember that I might not get to them as consistently). Again, thanks for all your support!

Request: hi I was wondering if you could maybe write Maeve x reader angst/fluff where the reader's parents are emotionally abusive and Maeve tries to comfort them? thanks:)

Warnings: mentions of abuse, parental abuse, verbal/emotional abuse; language, fluff

Words: 998

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

It was the middle of the night when you found yourself at Maeve’s door.

You didn’t mean to walk there. You didn’t mean to walk anywhere, to be honest; you had just been walking, aimlessly, trying to get your mind off of the one thing that had been bothering you your whole life.

Your parents.

You hadn’t realized how bad your home life was until your first sleepover when you were 12; it was a lot later than most of your peers, because it took you a long enough time to prove to your parents that you could go on a sleepover in the first place. Anyway, you saw how kind and nurturing the family was and almost asked them to stay forever. But the fun couldn’t last, and you had to go home the next day to the same old shitty life. Ever since then, you decided to hide your life from everyone; whether that was to protect yourself or them, you weren’t sure.

And tonight, your parents had been at it again: telling you you were no good, that you needed to be more like your brother, that you were a disgrace to the family name. All you wanted to say back was that you didn’t want the family name to begin with, but since you had it, why not make this absolute asshole of a family tree reflect on itself through you. So you did say it. And then they threatened to take away your phone, laptop, and basically every other form of communication until you ‘acted appropriately’ - whatever that meant. That was when you left, taking almost nothing with you except the thin clothes on your back.

You were walking aimlessly, rubbing your sides in the frigid air, staring blankly at the darkness around you. It had been years dealing with the same shit, but tonight, you felt lighter. Maybe it was the cold air cooling your skin, or maybe it was the small taste of revenge you had. Either way, you liked it.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of Maeve’s trailer, knocking on the door. You blinked, just realizing where you were, and not knowing the time. When you saw the light in the bedroom turn on, you registered the fact that it was probably really late; the guilt faded when you remembered why you were out here in the first place, and you suddenly frowned.You didn’t realize the tears falling from your eyes as Maeve opened the door.

“Y/N” she blinked for a second as if unsure that you were really there. When she saw the tears on your face, and the chattering of your teeth, her eyes widened. “Jeez you must be freezing.” She pulled you inside and quickly closed the door, grabbing her favorite fringe sweater and throwing it over your shoulders.

After a couple seconds of feeling the fabric over your skin, you felt your breathing slow, finally calming down from the night of disaster. The tears were silently falling now, and you couldn’t really stop them, not even as Maeve led you over to the table and patiently waited for you to fully calm down. She rubbed a hand on your back and whispered that it would be okay, even though she didn’t know what exactly was making you cry.

Because if she knew, she wouldn’t be saying it’s okay, because it wasn’t okay. You knew that. Your life was one fucked up mess, all because you couldn’t choose your family. But…you sort of could. Because you had Maeve, the girl who let you in in the middle of the night, and had been there for you even though you had been hiding the terrible things your parents did to you your whole life. She was the one piece of hope in your life, like a tiny rose blossoming in your heart; you felt yourself take a deep breath, and then you told her everything.

“Parents are fucking useless,” she said after a while, placing a cup of tea in front of you. It was a silly thing to say, but somehow, it made you feel better. You laughed lightly, despite the circumstances, and sipped the tea even though it burnt your tongue. After a second you shrugged, unsure of what else to say. You were glad to get it all off of your chest, glad Maeve knew everything you had been going through. This was right. This felt right.

“You can stay here.” Maeve hugged her arms to her chest, wrapping her blanket closer around her shoulders. She stood up and started moving things around in the kitchen, and you watched her with a small smile.

You don’t know why you hid everything from her. You were ashamed, for sure, but if anyone would understand, it was Maeve. She had gone through her own shit and you were there for her every step of the way. So why would she not be there for you?

“Thank you.” You whispered, and before you knew it you were standing up and walking over to Maeve, wrapping your arms around her like you would never let go. You took in her scent - a mix of cigarettes and lavender, which was oddly comforting - as she pulled you closer, laying a hand on your head and tangling her fingers softly in your hair. The two of you stood like that for a second, letting the moment last for as long as possible before you had to let go.

“You can stay here for as long as you need to.” She held your shoulders and looked into your eyes so you knew she really meant it.

“Thank you,” was all you could say, because you were so overwhelmed with happiness that you didn’t trust yourself with any other words; all you wanted to feel all your life was comfortable - at home. And here, with Maeve, you were. You were home. And you never wanted to leave.

[onthepageoftears]

Break Free (Eric Effiong x Reader - Platonic) // Sex Education

A/N: Sorry I got this one out late, I had a long day or classes and was on my last string of work ethic lol but alas! My first Eric centered fic and it’s not as good as I wanted it to be; I feel like I could write so much about the mix of horror and relief that comes with coming out (and the unfortunate reality of being outed), but I really didn’t have time to delve too deep. Butttt i hope you guys like it anyway!  Also, I have quite a bit of requests that I’ll try to get to when I can (hopefully one a day still, but I’ll let you now if I can’t post one day). Anyway, thanks for all the support!

Request: a platonic eric x reader where the reader is seen as very nerdy and geeky, and she’s in the closet? maybe there’s angst and Eric accidentally lets her secret slip to everyone and they don’t speak for a while, but then when the whole thing happens with eric getting hurt, the reader goes to him to support him

Warnings: coming out, queer-shaming, dealing with sexuality, language, spoilers for 1x05

Words: 1,735

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

Coming out is not easy.

You knew how hard it could be: the sweaty palms beforehand, the dry throat, nervous laughter, probably a bucket of tears. But no one could prepare you for actually coming out; not the youtube videos or the blog posts, not even your own imagination of worst case scenarios would be close to what actually happened.

What actually happened was much, much weirder. It still consisted of the nervous sweating and crying, but it was such an abrupt and unplanned experience. You’d think coming out would be a scripted scenario: in fact, you had planned your own coming out in your head many times. But when you and Eric were hanging out, him already plastered in makeup and you now being assaulted with his makeup brushes, you felt something shift within you. Something that you wouldn’t have guessed would happen in a million years.

“Eric,” you said, your voice just above a whisper. He was applying the blush to your cheeks, frowning when you moved your mouth. “I’m gay.”

He stopped brushing for a moment, looking in your eyes like he didn’t actually hear you say it. But when your eyes started to tear up, his face broke into a wide smile. “Welcome to the club.”

You laughed as he wiped a small tear that fell from your eye, feeling a sudden wash of relief fall over you. You were sweating more than you’d like to admit, but you didn’t care: you were free, at least a little bit, and it felt good.

“Now stop crying or you’ll ruin the mascara,” he joked, wiping another tear with a smile to match yours. You nodded and swallowed down your tears, taking a deep breath and looking back to Eric.

“I haven’t told anyone else yet,” you said simply as he applied some lipstick.

“Your secret is safe with me.” He sent you a wink, tilting your head slightly to see the eccentric makeup he had applied to your face. Suddenly, everything seemed like it could be alright, and getting rid of this secret wasn’t so bad after all.

That was until the party.

You were there because Eric told you to come, and even though you knew it was a bad idea, you went. After telling him your secret, everything seemed ten times better, and you thought, what the hell? What could possibly go wrong?

What could go wrong, did. Eric got drunk, tried to teach people how to give a blowjob, and accidentally spilt your secret.

You were standing next to him, trying to get him to stop his blowjobs-for-dummies class. This wasn’t what Maeve meant by getting clients, and you knew the untouchables were only making fun of him. But when you tried to tell him that, he turned to you, pushing you off him and laughing slightly. “Don’t worry,” he said, trying to whisper but failing miserably. “You don’t need to learn how to give a blowjob.”

“And why is that?” Anwar commented from behind the camera, sending a quirked brow in your direction.

“Because she’s-“ Eric stopped himself, realization flooding him. You stood, shocked, hoping no one would catch what he said. But, of course, they did.

Ruby turned to you, a devilish smirk on her face. “Are you a lesbian?” Your heart dropped at her words, eyes widening as the focus moved from your best friend to you.

“She is, isn’t she?” Anwar moved his camera so it was on you, catching the tears that sprang to your eyes. “It’s okay, no need to hide in the closet any more.”

Before you could think, you were rushing out of the room, ignoring the calls from Eric and the stares that burned into your back. Even as you left the house you felt like people were staring at you in the darkness, laughing at you. Coming out was supposed to be yours to decide, the time where you could finally stand up for yourself and be who you wanted to be. And tonight, that was ruined. This was a mistake, a horrible mistake, was all you could think on the walk home, only comforted once you made it to your bedroom and locked yourself in. 

When the weekend went by, most of it consisting of you hibernating under your covers (and ignoring your calls), you almost didn’t go to school. There was still a little bit of faith within you, which is what got you out of bed. Maybe the kids at the party forgot about your secret; maybe they would leave you alone, or Anwar’s phone would be lost in a tragic accident. But part of you knew the was wishful thinking, and when you were in school the next day, you tried to ignore the echo of Anwar’s video being played on everyone’s phone. Eric caught your eyes in the stairwell, but you were gone before he could speak to you, making your way to the bathroom to hide out, even for just a little while.

—

You still weren’t talking to Eric when his birthday came around. You two were best friends, and you knew you would have to confront him eventually. But everything hurt so much, and the whispers that followed you in the hallways didn’t help. At this point, you weren’t mad at him as much as you were mad at the world for making life so much more difficult. Still, you hadn’t hung out with him or Otis since the party, and your heart ached even more at the thought of missing Eric’s favorite annual Hedwig showing. You hadn’t received an invite, though, so you assumed Eric didn’t miss you too much.

You had just gotten out of the shower when you heard your phone ding. You unlocked it with one hand and took your towel off with the other. It was a text from Otis.

Have you heard from Eric?

You frowned, raking a hand through your still wet hair. No???, you wrote back, quickly following up with, why?

Before he could answer, you searched your notifications: five missed texts, three missed calls. You cursed, scrolling through the texts as you sent Eric a call.

Are you busy right now?

Can you call me?

Are you still mad at me?

I’m sorry about what happened, I swear I didn’t mean to

I need your help

“Fuck.” You bit your nails as you listened to the same voicemail over and over again. He wasn’t answering. He wasn’t answering, and he texted you. He texted you, and if he was hurt, it would be your fault.

You called Otis next, but of course, he didn’t answer either. You paced around your room, alternating between calling Otis and texting him, asking what was happening and why Eric wasn’t answering his phone. After ten minutes of no reply, you decided the only thing you could do was find Eric.

So, you went to his house.

When his father answered, you noticed he was a little surprised to see you. It was late, and you hadn’t talked to Eric in over a month. Still, you smiled nervously at the man in front of you.

“Hi, Mr. Effiong. Is Eric here?” You shifted uncomfortably in your spot; even though you had known him since you were very young, Eric’s dad was still quite menacing. He looked up the stairs with his stone face, but you could feel the hesitance in his eyes. Why wouldn’t he want you to come in?

After a second, he turned back to you and moved aside for you to scooch past him. “He’s upstairs.” He said simply, and you nearly ran past him, running up the familiar stairs to Eric’s room. You barely knocked before opening the door, gasping at the boy in front of you.

He was in the middle of wiping off makeup, and you couldn’t ignore the streaks of tears on his face.

“Eric?” You whispered, suddenly realizing where you were. You hadn’t talked to Eric for so long, and you just expected him to be okay with you barging in? What if he kicked you out, told you he didn’t care about you anymore?

But your thoughts of self doubt dissipated when you focused at the boys’ face. Tears dripped down his cheeks, making their own path through his makeup. The only other time you had seen Eric cry was when he fell off the monkey bars and ripped his favorite shirt; and now here you were, watching the boy who was so brave crumble in front of you.

“Y/N.” He stood up from his desk and walked over to you, enveloping you in his famous Eric hug. You responded quickly, wrapping your arms behind his back and muffling into his shoulder.

“I saw your texts and I was so worried and I didn’t know what happened so I came over here and I’m sorry for not talking to you or being there for your birthday-“ You pulled back and wiped your own tears from your face, just noticing the scar on Eric’s cheek. It looked fresh, and you looked back to Eric’s eyes with a frown. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” he whispered, averting his gaze. You knew it wasn’t nothing, but before you could say anything, he looked back at you. “I’m sorry. About everything.”

“I know,” you said, dragging him back to his desk and taking a wet wipe to help him remove his remaining makeup. After a second, you spoke. “I am too.”

“Why are you sorry?” He winced as you went closer to his scar; you sent an apologetic smile back.

“For not talking to you about what happened. For missing your birthday.”

“Not a bit deal.” Eric shrugged, a sudden look of hurt flashing across his eyes. “Besides, you’re not the only one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He shrugged. A pang of realization hit you. The text. “Otis?”

Eric averted his gaze, and you immediately felt the need to go kick Otis’ ass. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

You closed you mouth in a thin line and zipped it shut, quickly continuing to wipe gently at Eric’s face. You two sat there silently, both in your own heads, both glad that the other was there. Almost eerily, you locked eyes, immediately breaking your solemn faces with a wide smile. It felt nice, to be together again. Even in these circumstances.

[onthepageoftears]

Sabotage - Part 2 (Otis Milburn x Reader)//Sex Education

A/N: Wow I made it to 300 followers! Thank you everyone for the support! As a kind of celebration, here is part two to Sabotage, which you can read here. It is not necessary for this imagine, but it would give some background information. Anyway thank you everyone for reading my stuff! Comments and feedback is always appreciated! <3

Request: can u maybe do and otis x reader, where they have just started right before the clinic thing started, and she starts to get jealous of maeve bc she thinks he may be starting to fall in love with her. and it all comes to a front and fluff. (also i know there is a lot of fanfic that like joke about jealousy, but could you make them have more of a serious conversation about it and he like admits he only loves her or something?) okayyy thank youuu 😊😊😊 ur writing is great

Warnings: language, jealousy, lying, angst/fluff

Words: 1,216

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

there are like no gifs for otis so this is the only other one that sort of fit this imagine and that i haven’t used urggg

Dating Otis Milburn was a lot better than you imagined.

To be honest, it wasn’t much different than before: you were best friends, only now, you had lingering glances and hand touches. The butterflies you once felt before were still non extinguishable. It almost made you sick…in a good way.

All was fine and dandy, until you started to notice something odd. Otis had always worked on the clinic, even before you two were dating; but now, it seemed like he was working on it more. And it didn’t help that Maeve was there by his side, where you weren’t. That bothered you. Really bothered you.

You tried to pretend it didn’t. You said hi to Maeve even though that little tug in your heart told you to spit at her feet. You even smiled at her in the hallways, asked how she was and how the clinic was going. Everything seemed normal, but the way Otis’ eyes shifted when you mentioned her…well, it put you on edge.

Whenever you tried to hang out with Otis, he was busy.

“Clinic,” he would say, and kiss your cheek goodbye before rushing down the hallway. You would roll you eyes, tell him he should be paying you for all the time you spent waiting around for him. It was a joke, of course, but jokes were your way of telling the truth; after all these years of being his friend, you’d think he knew that.

But Otis was oblivious. To basically everything. To the way you asked him if he wanted to hang out, to the way you kissed him with desperation. It was like once you started dating, he spent less time with you, and more time with Maeve.

It was strange, to say the least. And you were getting more and more pissed. So, you decided the only way to fix it was to address the problem directly.

“Maeve,” you smiled, despite the anger in your chest. She was leaning against the lockers, waiting for Otis to appear around the corner. When she saw you, she sent you a nod.

“Hey y/n.” She looked behind you, then back to your face. “Is Otis coming?”

You cleared your throat. “No, he told me to tell you that he can’t today.”

Maeve eyed you suspiciously. “Why?”

“He’s sick.” You held her eye contact, shrugging your shoulders as you swallowed down your lie. “The flu has been going around. He tried to come, but I told him that I would kick his ass if he did.” 

Maeve laughed, turning to her nails with a sigh. “I get it. Tell him I’ll deal with the clients.”

You took that as your chance to escape. “Okay. See yah.” You turned back and fast walked away, hoping you didn’t look too suspicious. 

Now to find Otis, you thought, turning the corner and running towards his locker. You caught him just as he was closing it, his eyes widening at your flushed face.

“Y/N? Hey.” He grabbed his backpack and smiled nervously.

“Maeve told me to tell you that there were no clients today.”

You held your breath as he frowned. “Really?”

“Yeah. Something about the flu going around.” You mentally kicked yourself, waiting for Otis to respond. When he didn’t, you took a deep breath, lightly touching his wrist with a small smile. “So, since you’re free...do you want to hang out? Watch a movie?”

If Otis was suspicious before, he didn’t show it once he felt your hand on his skin. He blushed, looked down at your hand, and nodded.

—

To say you missed spending time with Otis would have been an understatement. As you two sat on his couch, you felt the warmth of his company warm your heart. You traced patterns on the back of his hand, not really paying attention to the movie. Everything was great, until Otis got the text.

“That’s weird.” He was looking at his phone with a frown.

“What?”

“Maeve just texted me: ‘feel better dickhead’.” Your eyes widened, hands pausing in their tracing of Otis’ skin. He noticed your surprised expression, and searched your face for answers. “Y/N?”

“Huh?” You said, blinking at the boy in front of you. Your hands suddenly felt clammy, and you nearly ripped them away from Otis’ to rub them on your pants. “Um, I’m going to get a snack.” Ignoring his frown, you jolted up from the couch and walked to the kitchen, biting your nails as you tried to think of a solution. Shit, shit, shit.

“Y/N?” Otis emerged from the living room, blocking you from pacing any further. You huffed. There was no way you could lie to Otis, not again. Looking up at his eyes through your bleary ones, you took a deep breath.

“You were spending so much time with Maeve, and the clinic, and I just wanted to spend time with you, so I told her you had the flu and told you that there were no clients so that you would be able to hang out with me.” You sighed, watching as Otis rubbed a hand over his face. He was upset, and he had every right to be. But the guilt that you already felt was eating you alive, and it only hurt more to see it in Otis’ eyes. “You don’t have to say it. I know I’m a bitch.”

“No, Y/N, I would never-“ he stopped, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “You are not a bitch.”

“I just act like one.” It took a second for Otis to realize you were joking. When his gaze softened, you smiled shyly and dragged your foot on the ground. “I never thought I would be the jealous type. But I saw you two and I thought: I’m not good enough for him. Maybe this relationship wasn’t a good idea.”

“You’re wrong, Y/N. You are good enough. You are more than good enough.” Otis walked over, placing his hands on your shoulders. “You’re right, I was spending a lot of time with the clinic. I should have put time aside for us. And I get why you were jealous…I just wish you didn’t sabotage anyone.”

“Sounds familiar, huh?” You felt a sad smile form on your lips as Otis pulled you into him; you let yourself wrap your arms around him, taking a deep breath of his scent.

“We both made mistakes.”

“Stupid mistakes.” You mumbled into his chest.

“Stupid mistakes,” he repeated, his voice making his chest rumble. “It’s normal. We just have to learn from them. Grow from them.” He pulled back from you, keeping his hands on your arms as he looked into your eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.” You wiped the tears from your cheeks, ignoring the ones that fell soon after. “It’s…something I have to work on.”

“I don’t really blame you, especially since I kind of sabotaged you first.” You laughed at that, frowning at the sob that followed.

“I’m really sorry.”

You were pulled into another hug, this time with a kiss on the top of your head. “I know.” Otis held you close, so close that you thought he might never let go. And you didn’t want him to.