Title: soft obsession
Pairing: Mikey X Reader
Summary: Y/N just wanted to admire Mikey from a respectful stalker-ish distance. But one accidental face-cupping session and a very inconvenient sniff later, she’s suddenly his tutor..?
What started as a quiet obsession?
Is now a full-blown academic crisis.
—
Lunch break came like it always did, announced by the shrill ring of the school bell and the scraping of chairs. Students poured out the door, loud and laughing—except for one.
You stayed behind.
Everyone was too distracted to notice, and that’s how you liked it. You kept your head down, fiddling with your pen until the room was nearly silent again. The only person still there… was him.
Mikey.
His blond head rested lazily on his folded arms, eyelashes brushing against flushed cheeks, the rhythm of his breathing soft and steady. He was asleep. Peaceful. Vulnerable.
Perfect.
Your heart pounded. You knew how insane this was—staying behind like some obsessed freak. But something stronger than shame kept you frozen in place. Something deeper. You stepped toward him without thinking, each footstep featherlight, careful not to wake him.
He looked like a dream up close. His features softened in sleep, skin kissed by sunlight leaking through the blinds. His hair looked almost white in the light.
You hesitated for just a second.
Then, as if possessed by a hunger too quiet to resist, you reached out and cupped his face.
Warm. Soft.
He didn’t stir.
Your fingers traced the curve of his jaw, lingering longer than they should have. This was the closest you’d ever been—no desks between you, no noise, no crowd. Just the two of you. Alone.
And then—
“Mmm…”
The soft sound came from his throat, and to your horror and thrill, Mikey leaned further into your touch. He murmured something under his breath, voice thick with sleep.
“…nice smell…”
You froze.
Your breath caught in your throat. He could smell you?
Heat exploded in your chest, blooming like fire under your skin. You snatched your hand back like you’d just touched an open flame. What were you doing?! This wasn’t you. You weren’t this kind of girl—
Draken.
Panic shot through you. He’d only gone to grab lunch—he could be back any second.
You turned on your heel and rushed to the door, trying to keep your steps quiet, trying not to breathe.
But as you reached the exit—
Click.
Footsteps.
Draken stepped into the hallway just as you slipped out, your gaze brushing his before you quickly looked down and passed him.
He paused, brow furrowing.
Why was she leaving so late? Wasn’t she in class with them? Why stay behind when only Mikey was there?
He glanced inside, saw Mikey still snoozing like nothing had happened, and shook his head.
“Probably nothing,” he muttered, stepping in.
The rest of the day dragged by like normal—or so it seemed.
But for Draken… something felt off.
He couldn’t explain it. Just a strange itch on the back of his neck. A tension in his gut. Every time he and Mikey walked the halls, he felt it—eyes. Watching.
At first, he thought it was just paranoia. Nosy girls giggling over Mikey, maybe. Nothing new.
But then he caught it.
A flicker. A shadow ducking around a corner.
He spun around—too slow. Just a glimpse of hair, slipping away.
“…Weird,” he muttered.
“You say something?” Mikey asked, stretching lazily beside him.
“Nah.” Draken’s gaze lingered behind them.
He couldn’t shake it.
The shrine always felt sacred. Quiet. But today, it felt like something was hiding in the silence.
Draken scanned the area as they approached. The others were already at the steps—smoking, chatting, arguing. Mikey looked calm as ever, hands in his pockets, face tilted toward the sky.
But Draken?
He saw it again.
Behind the trees. A shadow. Movement.
He didn’t say a word. Just veered subtly toward the woods.
And then—
Bam.
He lunged, tackling the figure in the brush. A muffled yelp as he grabbed a hood and yanked them forward.
“What the hell—!” he growled, half dragging the figure into the open. “You think I wouldn’t notice?!”
Everyone turned, alert—until they saw.
You.
The soft-faced girl from class. Hoodie up. Eyes wide like a deer in headlights.
“…What the—” someone muttered.
“What are you doing here?” Draken demanded, loosening his grip but still holding you steady. “You followin’ us or something?”
All eyes were on you.
But only one gaze made your skin burn.
Mikey stepped forward, slow and curious. He stopped just in front of you, unnervingly calm as he studied your face.
Then… he sniffed.
Subtle. But intentional.
His eyes sharpened.
“This smell…” he murmured, gently taking your wrist and lifting it to his face.
Your heart nearly stopped.
“I’ve smelled this before.”
He inhaled again. Slower. Surer.
Your lips parted, but no sound came out.
“Where did I…?”
Then it clicked. His gaze locked with yours, recognition flashing behind the haze of sleep.
“You were in the classroom.”
You panicked.
“N-No! We never talked,” you said too quickly. “I—I sit behind you. That’s all.”
A pause.
Then Mikey smiled—slow and lazy, like the thought amused him.
“Huh…” he said.
“Maybe school isn’t such a waste after all.”
You blinked. “What?”
“If there’s a pretty girl like you sittin’ behind me…” He scratched the back of his neck, still smiling. “Guess I gotta start payin’ more attention.”
Then, in the softest, most casual voice:
“Sorry about Draken.”
You blinked again, startled. He wasn’t mad. He wasn’t asking questions.
He was… apologizing.
As if you weren’t the one who’d followed them.
As if you hadn’t just been caught hiding in the bushes.
Heat crawled up your neck. “I-It’s okay,” you mumbled.
Mikey hummed, eyes still fixed on you. Calm, but sharp. Like he was studying your soul.
He reached out and brushed a leaf from your hair. “You missed something,” he said simply.
You stiffened.
Someone scoffed behind him.
“Yo, Mikey,” Baji called. “Since when do you care if a girl’s got leaves in her hair?”
Mikey didn’t look away. Just shrugged. “Since now.”
The group blinked.
Even Draken raised an eyebrow.
Peh-yan leaned toward Mitsuya. “Bro… is he okay? He never talks to girls unless it’s about food.”
“I’m watching this like a live drama,” Mitsuya whispered back.
Draken stepped forward. “Mikey,” he said lowly, “she was literally stalking us.”
“Not stalking,” you mumbled, eyes on the dirt. “I just… didn’t know how to talk to you.”
“See?” Mikey said. “She just wanted to talk.”
“That doesn’t make it less weird.”
Mikey looked over his shoulder at him, blank but firm. “I don’t care.”
Silence again.
You shifted, unsure if you should run or evaporate. But Mikey turned back before you could decide.
“What’s your name?”
You hesitated. “…Y/N.”
He nodded slowly.
“Well, Y/N…” He stepped closer. “Next time you wanna talk, just come say hi.”
You stared up at him, stunned.
Then he leaned in, close enough to murmur:
“You don’t have to hide.”
Your eyes widened. Your heart thudded so loud it hurt.
He knows. He knows what you did.
And he doesn’t care.
Worse—he might’ve liked it.
Even with Toman watching, the world had narrowed to just the two of you. Mikey’s stare was steady. Unreadable. Like he’d looked through thousands of people before you… and found them boring.
But not you.
Whether that was a blessing or a curse—you weren’t sure.
“Alright,” Mitsuya called, breaking the tension, “soap opera’s over. Let’s get to the meeting.”
The others drifted away, still side-eyeing you. But Mikey didn’t move.
He looked you over one last time.
“You gonna run again?”
“…No.”
His smile tugged up, slow and real. “Good.”
You swallowed.
“And if I wanted to talk to you again…?”
He raised a brow, amused. “I already told you.”
He reached up—gently twisting a strand of your hair around his finger.
“I’m not hard to find.”
Then he turned and walked away like none of it mattered.
“See you tomorrow, Y/N.”
Like he didn’t just rearrange your entire nervous system.
That night, sleep didn’t come.
You tossed and turned, thoughts a storm of what-ifs and did-that-really-happens. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw him.
Leaning into your touch.
Sniffing your wrist.
Saying your name like it already belonged to him.
Your body still remembered it.
Eventually, you gave up and opened your phone. Scrolled past homework screenshots. Past saved memes. Past—
There it was.
A blurry photo. Taken behind a corner. Mikey in sunlight. Asleep.
You stared at it, guilt twisting in your chest.
You were insane. Obsessed. Creepy.
And yet…
He smiled.
Touched your hair.
Asked your name.
Instead of shame, you felt something worse.
Longing.
You locked your phone and sat up in the dark.
Tomorrow.
You had to see him again tomorrow.
But maybe this time… you wouldn’t hide.
The next morning, you walked into class expecting everything to be normal.
Same halls. Same sleepy classmates. Same Mikey, head on his desk.
But today?
He was already sitting up.
Wide awake. Arms crossed. Staring at the door like he’d been waiting.
And when you walked in—his whole face lit up.
“There she is,” he said.
You stopped mid-step.
The whole class turned.
Even the teacher stared, squinting like she was hallucinating.
“Is he… awake?” she whispered.
“Yo, Y/N.”
Mikey smiled. Not the lazy kind—but real. Bright. He even waved.
You stood frozen.
Then—
“You gonna just stand there or sit next to me?”
The class exploded.
“HUHHHH?!”
“Did he just—?!”
“Bro, Mikey’s talking to someone?!”
You were burning alive. But your feet moved. You sat.
Mikey leaned over, chin on his hand.
“Morning,” he murmured.
“…Morning.”
He smiled lazily and turned toward the window like this was totally normal.
But it wasn’t.
Because Mikey was paying attention.
And everyone noticed.
And worse?
He wasn’t stopping.
If anything… he doubled down.
The moment you sat down, he leaned over to peer at your notebook, brows furrowed like he was really trying.
“What’s this word?” he asked, voice low, tapping a sentence with his pen. “It’s all squiggly.”
“…It says ‘photosynthesis.’”
He blinked. “That’s not a real word.”
“It is,” you whispered back, biting back a smile.
He hummed. “Sounds fake.”
You tried to keep your attention on the board, but Mikey kept nudging you with questions. What does that mean? Is that gonna be on the test? Wait, what’s her name again? The teacher?
You weren’t sure what was funnier—his nonsense questions or how genuinely curious he seemed once you started answering them. He even started writing things down.
Not well. Not neatly. But he was trying.
By the third time he leaned in and whispered, “Wait, wait—say it again slower,” Draken had fully turned in his seat.
“…What the hell is going on right now?” he muttered.
Even the teacher paused at one point, blinking at the sight of Mikey actually holding a pen.
She subtly adjusted her glasses, muttering under her breath, “I must be dreaming.”
You, on the other hand, were dying inside. Every time Mikey leaned a little too close or smiled at your notes like they were magic, your pulse skyrocketed.
And he knew it.
“Ohhh, look at that. Your ears turned red again,” he teased halfway through the lecture. “You blushing, Miss Tutor?”
Your head snapped toward him, eyes wide. “Don’t call me that—”
“Too late.” He grinned. “It suits you.”
The bell rang all too soon, and the classroom exploded into chatter as everyone gathered their things. But before you could even stand, your teacher called out.
“Y/N?”
You paused mid-motion. “…Yes?”
The woman looked mildly overwhelmed but determined. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
You hesitantly walked up to her desk, bag still slung over your shoulder. Mikey, of course, followed like a shadow.
“I don’t know what you did,” the teacher said, adjusting her glasses again, “but I’ve never seen Mikey this alert during class. Ever. I thought he had a medical condition at one point.”
“…I’m just as surprised as you are,” you admitted.
The teacher gave you a long look. “Well, whatever this is, keep it up. He clearly listens to you.”
Your eyes widened. “Wait, what?”
“I’m officially assigning you as Mikey’s academic tutor.” She didn’t even blink. “If you can get him to graduate, I’ll personally write your college recommendation letter. Deal?”
Before you could protest, Mikey let out a dramatic gasp behind you. “Did you hear that, Miss Tutor? We’re officially a duo now.”
You groaned. “Oh my God—”
“It’s official,” Mikey said, turning to the class with mock-seriousness. “From now on, address her as Ma’am, Miss, or my Tutor.”
The room fell silent.
Was Mikey ordering them to call you his tutor..
Even Draken couldn’t believe it. “He’s got jokes now? Nah, this is cursed.”
A random student fake-saluted you. “Ma’am. Yes, ma’am.”
“Miss Y/N,” another said, dramatically bowing.
You buried your face in your hands. “I hate all of you.”
Mikey just leaned over again, voice smug and syrup-smooth.
“See you after school, Miss Tutor,” he murmured. “We’ve got studying to do.”
And despite every rational bone in your body screaming at you to stay calm…
You were absolutely screwed.
Lunch break again. This time, you didn’t stay behind. But you felt eyes on you the whole walk down the hallway. Boys staring. Girls whispering.
You ducked your head, embarrassed. Until—
“Y/N!”
His voice rang out behind you, smooth and loud and unmissable.
You turned—and there he was, walking straight toward you with his hands in his pockets, like he had nothing better to do.
“Mikey—” you started, but he kept going.
“You gonna eat alone?”
“…I wasn’t—”
“Cool,” he cut in. “Let’s eat together.”
You blinked. “With who?”
“With me.”
You blinked again.
“…Just us?”
He looked down at you, amused. “Unless you want the others to come.”
Your silence was loud.
He smiled.
“I thought so.”
You sat on the rooftop, the sun high and the wind tangling your hair.
Mikey unwrapped his food casually, legs stretched out, eyes half-lidded like usual. But every so often, his gaze would flick to you. Watching. Curious.
“You ever watch someone sleep again after that day?” he asked suddenly, as if you were in the middle of that conversation.
Your heart stopped and you looked away embarrassed.
“…No.”
He turned to you fully.
“I wouldn’t mind if you did.”
Your eyes widened. “You… what?”
He shrugged, as if this wasn’t the most deranged sentence a sane boy could ever say.
“I liked it.”
You stared at him.
“You’re kidding.”
He shook his head.
“Most people look at me and see Toman.” He glanced up at the clouds. “But you looked at me like I was just… me.”
Your throat tightened.
He looked back.
“I don’t get that a lot.”
The silence between you thickened. Heavy. Meaningful.
You tried to say something—anything—but nothing came out.
He watched you squirm.
Then, almost cruelly soft,
“You gonna follow me again?”
You flushed.
“I—I didn’t—”
“Liar.”
He smiled again. This one different.
He liked the power.
You could tell.
And you?
You liked being at his mercy.
Author’s Note:
This one was so fun to write 😭 I’m probably gonna write a part 2 soon where Y/N ends up tutoring him (against her will lol) and it just snowballs from there, expect more tension, obsession, and chaos.
