Male Reader X

Reader x Futaba (Persona 5)

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You knock on the door to Futaba's room, a plastic bag of snacks and drinks held in the other. "Futaba? Are you awake?" The door slides open, a vivid green eye peeking through the low light of her room.

"If I was, you'd have woken me up."

"Sorry?" You pull open the door and enter her room proper. A small bedroom for a girl her age, part in thanks to the huge computer setup on one side, and the mattress on the other. A few bags of waste have gathered in the back corner next to her desk – but it's a lot cleaner than when you first started dating. You'd insisted on keeping the place somewhat tidy for her, and no excuses about organized chaos were going to stop you.

But Futaba has a way of piling up garbage from seemingly nowhere. There are already papers on the floor and boxes everywhere, taking up what little floorspace is left in the room. You kick some of them away and collapse onto her bed. Futaba goes back to her desk and continues to type away at something.

Futaba has changed a lot since you started dating, and you hadn't seen her back when her anxiety made it impossible for her to leave the house. She started to go to a normal school and make normal friends with people in class, and eventually a friend of a friend of a friend caused you to meet. Futaba hasn't grown much since those old school days. She's still a short little gremlin with fiery orange hair and a high-pitched voice.

You were immediately infatuated with her for reasons that your friends simply could not understand. Catching her interest was tough and involved watching all of Phoenix Ranger Featherman. You trained your body and mind to a fine point so that you could understand the obscure references and otaku joy that she expressed on a daily basis.

After your training arc, you mustered up enough courage to ask her out properly. She agreed, much to your shock at the time. Now with the prospect of college on the horizon, everyone seems to be at a loss as to what to do with themselves. Futaba will succeed in whatever she chooses, especially if it has anything to do with her love of technology.

"You should take a break."

"Give me a sec! I'm totally about to destroy this guy."

A moment later, Futaba cackles like a witch as she presumably wins at whatever wargame or hacking competition she was taking part in. She stands up from her chair and stretches out, revealing her stomach under a flimsy looking tank top. She navigates the wreckage on the floor and sits down on the edge of the mattress. You sit up behind her and pull Futaba into a hug. She adjusts herself until she's sitting in your lap, the top of her head nestled under your chin.

"I assume you destroyed him."

She snickers again, "Totally."

Her hand pats down the surface of the bed until she lands on the remote for the TV positioned above her main monitors. She flicks it on and channel surfs until she finds something that looks interesting, a re-run of an old monster movie from the sixties. Futaba is warm and soft, and you can't help yourself but feel up her thighs as she tries to find a comfortable position.

"Hey!"

"Sorry."

She pouts a little and elbows you. In retaliation you pull her down onto the bed with you, a waterfall of orange hair spilling over your head. Futaba is quick to fight back, spinning around and pinning your down by your arms so that you're face to face. Her eyes narrow, "Give up yet?"

"Since when was it a competition?"

"That's what losers like to say!" You pull her down onto your chest, legs intertwined with each other. You close your eyes. The rise and fall of her chest is the world's best sleeping aid. "You only come down here to mess with me..."

"I like messing with you. It's fun."

There's a comfortable silence, if your idea of silence are the whirring fans of a over the top computer setup and the sounds of a monster movie playing in the background. "Did you hear about the new Featherman adaptation?"

You can't help but laugh, "Is that your idea of pillow talk Futaba?"

"Shut up!" she slaps your chest weakly, "You're going to watch it with me – as payback for bullying me so much."

"You're just threatening me with a good time."

Futaba shifts upwards until her face is level with your own. She sneaks in and plants a firm kiss on your lips. You don't have a chance to fight back before she escapes again. You give up and stay in place, you're too comfortable to move now.

"Is your old man out on another date tonight?"

She pokes your ribs with a finger, "Why do you want to know?"

"No reason. Just wondering."

"Yep."

"so we can make all the noise we want?"

"Yep."

"You know what that means."

...

You feel a piece of cold plastic shoved into your palms. You pull it up to your chest and open your eyes, "You're going down this time. I've been practicing." You make sure that she didn't give you the bum controller again before the battle begins.

Futaba switches the TV over to her console and boots up your recent obsession, "Confident words from a career loser."

"How can I be a loser when I'm with you?"

She blushes and pushes up her thick black glasses, "Knock it off already."

No, you don't think you will.