author's note: just starting to set up the plot here <3 hope you guys enjoy!! these next upcoming weeks are gonna be busy cause i am currently interviewing for jobs (hopefully i get it 🤞)/ studying for a certification exam but i will do my best to provide quickly for everybody :))
taglist: @gettaloadofthisguy @megumismyhusband @doodle-hater @wehklog (send an ask or reply in the comments to be added!!)
caffeine & crisis (y/n, yoosung, zen, jumin, and jaehee)
jumin did not choose his username, y/n did. he majors in business and he's basically ready to follow his father's footsteps at C&R. he met y/n in an early english class and they taught him about memes. jumin han is hoping that he can bring elizabeth the third to his classes soon.
jaehee majors in business administration with a minor in hospitality management. jumin is the connection for y/n and jaehee which led them to hyun ryu (he prefers being called zen). y/n feels for the overworking that jaehee is put through through the C&R internship that jumin got her. y/n is a supportive shoulder for jaehee during these times and they let her talk about zen's roles.
zen is in theatre and he tries out many roles as much as he can. he is hoping his career takes off soon and that he grows more than a certain business man whom he gets annoyed by. y/n met him at the gym, they were very understanding of his lifestyle and inspired by the way he held himself after learning more about him. y/n was one of the few people who was immune to his charm.
yoosung is majoring in medicine so he met saeran in classes due to group projects for biology. he met y/n through the game room at their college, yes y/n plays LOLOL too. yoosung also met seven this way but y/n and seven don't know each other yet since they met at different times. yoosung is the bridge between both groups but he has to keep it cool for now.
707's warriors of stars! (707, saeran, vanderwood, yoosung)
saeyoung goes by luciel online because he is scared of his future bosses seeing how stupid he can be at times. his goal in life is to live happily with saeran but he also wishes to find love after finishing his computer engineering degree. he dragged vanderwood to college with him.
saeran is in biology to learn more about plants and become a botanist later on. in this au, saeyoung and saeran are tight and their bond is unlike any other. saeran enjoys nature so he tends to take walks. y/n exists to him only as saeyoung's classmate and have seen them around the engineering building.
vanderwood was forced into following seven, he also went into cybersecurity so he is in computer engineering. y/n and him have spoken before but they mostly speak about school. somehow vanderwood has the answers to homework and projects that y/n needs! seven should take a page out of y/n's book and be kind to vanderwood.
other information on this au / author's note!
yes i know rika and v are absent here, i may add them in later on depending on the story but there is a 10 picture limit on tumblr per post :( in this au, they are not as manipulative and such
they all live in the campus apartments! each single bed and bath, jumin wanted to learn what it was like to live more like a commoner but mr kim still brings him presents from his father.
also hello everybody! i swear i am working on this </3 i've been moving and such so it's been slow but i'm still plotting this lolololol, anyway! i should be out with the first part soon. in each individual group chat: the blue messages will be y/n and saeyoung. mostly will be in your pov but sometimes seven's too.
info: you find yourself in a dilemma when you try to figure out just who is writing about you on your school's confession page. the signoff seems hard to decipher, just who is the defender of justice? it doesn't help how well known you are at school, will this comp science major hack his way into your heart?
college au! mystic messenger smau: various tropes involved here. hope you all enjoy and send me an ask or comment below to be added in the taglist! :)
warnings: depression, anxiety, ptsd, abandonment issues, potentially more cause i'm gonna make this semi canon to mm's lore :,) will update as this smau goes on!
omg hi hi yes yes yes mm mentioned i would be sso interested in 707 content if that means anything … 👀👀
OMGGGG YESSS i wanna just cuz i muse him sm!!! and i love mm, i can't stop playing again lol but i'll keep that in mind <33 i just need to come up with ideas for him and make sure i can write him perfectly in character ehehehe
the urge to make a mystic messenger smau shskdjdjjd ugh the need for 707 is crazy but idk what to do but i need to consume more fanfic of him rnnrnrnrnrnrn
ask maxing has to make a return so im here to say that sunday would fuck with tomodachi life, i think it would bring him peace to be able to moderate the miis idk
YESSSS
sunday is so focused on control, he is so cute with it. i think he'd def be in love with it and be able to make sure robin is the center of attention lol except he probably wouldn't let her fall in love (he wants his sister to be safe and boys are cruel in his eyes to his lovely sister)
tw: lohen is psychotic, rough sex, orgasm denial. heavy into pain: knife play involved.
lohen who abuses your clit with smacking it endlessly to make it more red as he pushes a finger deep into you. he forces you into overstimulation after you have already creamed several times while putting more love bites on your skin. although, you could swear there is blood coming out of some of them but you're so high on your third orgasm you couldn't even care as he kept smacking before just stopping when he could tell you were close.
this bastard knew exactly where he had you, the endless moans of the night weren't enough for him as he heard you cry out for his name before he pulled out a dagger while sliding the dull edge over your body. not to hurt you, no but give you that illusion to make you want to beg more for him. you could feel the cold blade moving up and down your body, teasing at your most intimate areas. your nipples were hard at the feeling as your back arched.
"what's the magic word, princess?" he teased in a more cooing tone than his normal.
"p-p-please, i can't wait any longer for another orgasm..." you breathed out but just barely.
"good job, y/n. you'll let the rest of the fifth company know who is making you feel good tonight, won't you?" he stated before removing the blade and continuing with his assault below. inserting a new finger each time he felt you adjusting, your tears giving him a new thrill that he wasn't aware was missing out of his life along with the loud moans of incoherent words that sounded like his name with just his fingers and toys.
info: a promise from the age of 11 turns into an on demand job for childe to keep your heart to himself. college au! childe x reader
warnings: ajax is being a menace, chaos confirmed, slight mention of scaramouche (he was a bad date because childe paid him to be…)
a/n: late night chaos, very unedited! i hope you enjoy what an odd idea i came up with! i had a lot of fun writing it and i kinna want to make it a series with other characters and how they would chaotically ruin dates to keep you to themselves after this one lol
another date goes by and you feel as if the guy that ajax has set you up with is rather… dry. it was as if there was something going through his mind that said, “y/n, this is not the man of your dreams — i am!” originally, that’s what you had hoped tartaglia would say. alas, he was too much of a mystery for you to comprehend exactly how you felt and what exactly he was to you. it was very different from what you wanted him to be currently after seeing how many dates went so wrong that were his ideas.
for being childhood best friends, the day that you two grew apart had steadily grown — as if a piece of brittle glass was to be thrown soon, ending this facade you two had called a friendship. perhaps, he had just wanted you to fail in the relationship department.
this other guy didn’t even pay! he expected you to pay the whole thing, some kind of boyfriend material he was. his name was scaramouche, purple hair and he definitely seemed like the type to listen to my chemical romance with the outfit he had on. which made you wonder, what did tartaglia see between the two of you when you were both so different??? you sighed as you ran a hand through your hair, wishing that the night would get better.
“ajax, can you answer your phone? i’m not mad, i just need a friend…” you whined at his voicemail, the voices from around the restaurant could be heard. scaramouche left you alone after realizing that he spent enough time trying to figure you out for his liking. of course in his head, he knew. ajax’s threats to fight wasn’t worth picking up a beauty such as yourself for.
after a while, ajax finally picked up the phone before he could hear your quiet sobs. “y/n? are you okay?” he mumbled into the phone, he sounded almost sleepy before listening to your rant further about scaramouche — he would have to pay the male double after that stunt before scolding him for making tartaglia’s special y/n cry.
“n-no… he just left and he didn’t even grab the bill! why do the men you send me always suck… maybe, i should try a matchmaking site.” you pouted a bit more before continuing on, “can i come over and hang out for a bit? why can’t these men ever be more like you…” you sighed out before he replied with a quick yes and hanging up abruptly — probably to clean his apartment.
he was jumping for joy in his room instead of your innocent little thoughts. at the moment, he couldn’t help himself. the person of his dreams was still available. he scheduled it on the right day as well considering it had been his birthday. he couldn’t help himself before opening his door, y/n came so quickly. “oh. you’re not y/n…” he frowned with a huff before rolling his eyes, “here’s the money, mooch.” he slyly insulted the shorter male before shooing him off, shutting the door on his face. he was lucky to be on the other side of that door and not with scaramouche’s wrath.
all he could hear was screaming and banging until it eventually was drowned out by cleaning and his “old school music” as he liked to call it from back when he lived in snezhnaya, before moving away for college. it was such a gift to have you stay with him — even throughout college, your parents and his were happy to know that you guys had each other. he then heard scaramouche talking to somebody, oh no… he had rushed so quickly to open that door to see his beloved y/n, her heart had been broken yet again.
“ajax… did you set me up with him only to keep me to yourself?” cue a smirking scaramouche, quite the payback indeed to this man who thought that he could control him of all people. your anger died down before laughing a bit at the realization. “have you been gatekeeping me? even with all of the years passing by with that silly childhood-”
he immediately cut you off at your next sentence before holding your face with both of his hands, “it was never silly to me.” most would imagine a movie ending for the start of their relationships in college, yours was rather confusing as he just confessed himself outrightly. at this point, scaramouche left the site since he realized he was gonna throw up in his mouth. “i wanted to be with you since before we made that promise in middle school and i wanted nothing more than to tell you but i needed to make sure you wanted me too.” he was twenty one now, on his own birthday — he set you up with a friend to know for sure that you would be single.
he stared so lovingly into your eyes, his ocean blue eyes that could relax you in a moment’s notice. he looked at how your pupils widened and so did his before realizing the music in the background wasn’t suited for this. he then grabbed you by the belt loop of your jeans before you yelped a bit. was this the part where you make out on the couch with him? his apartment was relatively clean by now and his roommates were gone. it had been like they know who was coming over and how tartaglia fixed himself from an overwhelming amount of embarrassment from how cliche he felt in this moment.
you knew this was a bit too sudden before staring into those eyes again. the eyes that wanted you to grow old with and yell at the kids who would eventually play on your lawns. the ocean that your eventual life would lead you to and the life that you had been yearning for. for ages now, every day until you’ve turned 21, you knew this was going to be the outcome or else why make such a silly promise? that was what tartaglia had thought as well as he leaned in slowly, adjusting you so that you were comfortable as well.
“y/n, may i finally do what i’ve been waiting for? these ten years have been long enough at the very least.” he had to wait for your signal, he wanted to make sure you were comfortable with it. the moment that he had been dreaming of, finally coming true. he already asked for your parents’ blessing to take your hand in his when you both made it to high school. although you had given up due to his popularity with the ladies, he had his eyes set only on you. that did not change during college either when you both moved away to liyue university. that’s why his logic had been so backwards with setting you up on dates.
you nodded at his words after some thought, letting him capture your lips. you could feel yourself soften as if nothing had mattered in this moment. you had been a bit petty beforehand with him paying his friend to make sure you stayed single until he was twenty one, but the peace you felt now was surreal. needlessly chasing for love to hide from the truth of it all, that you both wanted each other endlessly. you couldn’t help staying like that and kissing for a while while you were tangled up in each other’s embrace.
he kept you steady on top while he wrapped his hands around your waist as he pulled back with a small but triumph smile. he spoke up again with a bit of a teasing tone, “you know since it’s my birthday, i do deserve a nice gift.” you had to roll your eyes before he kept thinking of ideas and had the gall to list off, “i wouldn’t mind another kiss or perhaps if you want to check off more lists of firsts, there are those two. the house is free for the next few hours-”
he hadn’t expected his face to be smacked with a pillow that was on the couch as you huffed before shaking your head, “you didn’t even ask me to be your partner. why are you expecting head?”
he had to laugh loudly before shaking his head as he moved you off of him but still sitting on the couch. he decided to yet again be the dramatic and teasing male that he always has been since such a young age. he knelt down as he looked up towards you while taking your hand, “y/n, will you do me the honor of being my partner? this is what i meant by firsts… not that i’m opposed to your idea but only when you’re ready. after all, i am a man of patience. i’m just glad you finally understood why i kept rejecting everybody else.”
“and here i thought you weren’t gonna be a gentleman. of course, ajax. i’ll gladly take the honors.” he kissed your hand as he smiled while moving up your arm with each kiss. perhaps in a way to make up for the lost years of being a couple. he wouldn’t make that mistake again as he sat next to you again before pulling you into his tight embrace, afraid of letting go of this beautiful moment.
“y/n, i’m so glad. i will never let another person hurt you again… you will always be safe here with me and in my arms.” you both leaned into each other tightly, wanting nothing more than to let this moment last. he kept drawing circles on your back as you rested on top of him, your assignments could wait until tomorrow. after all, there’s only one time you get your firsts with the man of your dreams.
୧ ‧₊˚ when it comes to you, ajax always goes above and beyond. ˚₊‧୨
˚ starring, childe x f!reader
˚ includes, modern!au ; childhood bestfriend!childe ; nsfw content (18+, mdni!) ; childe is called 'ajax' here ; childe is whipped and lowkey possessive ; actually could be vaguely yandere if you squint real hard ; it’s kinktober season so of course i had to throw in a sprinkle of shady manipulation on childe’s end ; honestly reader is pretty dense but we roll, girl, we roll ; written in snippets, sort of ; first times / loss of virginity ; fingering ; oral (m receiving) ; unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it, folks) ; pet names !!!! (babe/baby, angel) ; praise ; creampies (but no breeding ……… yet :) ) ; not beta’d or proofread (pls tell me if you spot any grammar/continuity errors!)
˚ wc, 19.6k
˚ lucy says, my first genshin fic, and my first fic on this blog, and my first fic after i think 2 years of no writing... lotta firsts for this. :') but childhood friends to lovers childe wouldn't leave me alone so here we are! likes and reblogs are appreciated!
you'd made a vow, back when you were still five.
it was simple and straightforward, though by no means eloquent (so little of what came out of your mouths back then could really be considered that, anyway), but at the time, it had felt right. ajax was a bright child, albeit a little boisterous at times, and always the center of attention without even trying. you were drawn to him, an easy moth seated right next to a tender flame. you enjoyed his sudden and animated interjections during story time, and he openly admired the way you colored and wrote so neatly for your age. snack time was always him pawing through your lunch box for the sliced fruits he'd learned your mother would pack (you’d soon come to ask her for extra, just for him), and at quiet time, he'd always save a space for you near the wooden blocks so that you could spend yet another lazy afternoon building the tallest tower you could.
it happens on the last day of kindergarten, just as you sit in the playground sandbox. the other kids move around in little clumps, chittering about summer vacation — how strange and special this one would be because you'd be going your separate ways into different primary schools. ajax pours a bucket of sand listlessly onto his shins, then flails them, kicking the grains into the air.
"ajax!" you whine, sticking your tongue out. “you’re getting it everywhere!”
“i hate summer vacation,” he groans, tossing the bucket towards the far corner of the sandpit.
“liar. you always say summer vacation is the best thing ever.”
“not this time.” there’s a muffledness to his voice that comes from his severe pout. “we’re not going to see each other after it.”
nearing the end of the year, you’d come to learn that you were going to different schools, but you hadn’t thought it had mattered; did not seeing each other everyday mean you stopped being friends? would you be unable to see him ever again? worse, did it mean ajax would have no choice but to forget you?
“maybe i can ask my mom and dad if we can do that thing together this summer.” you scrunch up your nose in search of the word. “ca— camping?”
“it wouldn’t be the same,” he says mournfully. “we can’t have lunch together anymore, and teacher says when you get older, you make new friends, but i don’t want to make new friends.”
the teariness of his words has your lip trembling too; you reach out before you can stop yourself, sandy palms pressing against his cheeks.
“i don’t want to make new friends either!” you declare, and his wide, shiny eyes fix on you. “so we’re just going to be together forever. i’m not leaving you, and you’re not leaving me, okay?”
“forever?” he echoes, hushed, like the word itself is hallowed. “you promise?”
“mhm. i promise.” you nod fiercely, and something in his expression seems to lighten with relief.
of course, the school year still ends in a torrent of tears and childishly dramatic goodbyes, only partly assuaged by your parents’ half-laughed promises that you’ll still be able to play on one or another weekend. you have no choice but to let them tear you apart come dismissal, and you weep and hiccup all throughout the car ride home. by the time you pull into the driveway, you’re fast asleep, your fist clutching the last drawing of a blue whale that ajax had given you as a parting gift.
time should heal these kinds of wounds, especially minor ones brought about by the foolish, unregulated emotions of a child. by the end of summer vacation, following blisteringly hot days chasing down the ice cream truck and nights filled with game show music, the memory of having to say goodbye to ajax is nothing but a light scar on your tender heart. it’s too harsh to say that you’ve forgotten about him, but it’s a little too easy to say he isn’t at the forefront of your mind. your images of him grow hazy as each new year passes, your ‘one and only friend’ replaced by many others you share interests and secrets with.
that’s why you don’t expect him to remember you when you transfer into his high school. it was completely unplanned, and you hadn’t even known he would be there. yet, there he is, sitting on a desk in the center of the room, surrounded by classmates who’ve clearly known him for much longer than you do at this point. you might not have recognized him at all, with the way he is now; he’s taller, of course, with the lean build of a student that clearly participates actively in physical sports, and his voice and laugh are deeper and richer (although the standard of all that is particularly low for you, considering the last time you’d heard him speak was a decade ago). but there’s parts of him that have barely changed, that make him distinct and immediately recognizable — the soft, copper lustre of his hair and the flat, dark blue of his eyes.
the latter glosses over you once as you walk into the classroom, an instinctive reaction to new motion, but it doesn’t take long for his gaze to snap back like a stretched rubber band, fixing on you and growing wider as his posture straightens.
even though a friend of his speaks to him, asks him something, he only says your name. everyone else’s eyes fall on you, and your step falters just past the doorway. even with all these other people looking at you, you can only feel his burning gaze.
“don’t you remember me?” he asks when you don’t say anything in immediate response. “it’s me — ajax.”
“oh, right—” you stutter, a little self-conscious at being put on the spot. “ajax! it’s been so long. wow, you’re… i didn’t expect to see you here of all places.”
you remember his smiling being bright, sure, but not this bright — the kind of wideness and lightness to it that seems almost disproportionate to such a mundane situation. of course, childhood friends reconnect; there’s nothing odd about that. but the way he hops off the desk and walks over in huge strides to sweep you up into a strong hug makes you feel like you’re the center of a spectacle, and the only thing that vaguely distracts you from it is the warmth of him enveloping you.
“she was my childhood friend — my first best friend, i should say,” he says by way of introduction to the others staring at you; they offer half-hearted noises of greeting that ajax pointedly ignores. you stand there, with his arm still around you, trying not to think about how you’re pressed into his side and how he smells like some fancy pine-note cologne that seems way too mature and serious for someone his age and demeanor. “funny how fate works out, huh? seeing each other after all these years, i mean.”
“it’s definitely unexpected,” you agree, and if he notices how embarrassed you are at all the staring he’s brought about, he doesn’t make it known; he just draws back, holding you at arm’s length and giving you a very obvious once-over.
“you look good,” he comments after a pause, so out of place that you’re not sure if this is just some weird formality or if he’s being honest for no good reason. you don’t even know if he hears your mumbled, ‘thanks,’ over the sound of the bell that has him releasing you with a quick, playful wink.
you think that’s that when you shuffle over to your seat, ajax taking his own place in the center of the room (at the desk he’d been perched on). after the initial novelty of the reunion wears off, you’ll just be background noise in the lively scene that is his life. you don’t expect much thereafter, sure that his priorities would lie more in his long-term friends, the elements of this school that are familiar and wholly more comfortable to him.
which is why you’re shocked when, during lunch time, a loaded tray plops down in the space in front of you, ajax’s body following soon after. he leans back in his chair with an easy grin, like this is the most natural thing in the world for him to do, like you’re not staring at him with half-chewed food in your mouth.
“what are you doing?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
“what? we can’t catch up?”
“we can, but…” you squirm, a little unsure how to put your feelings into careful words. “i mean, don’t you have friends you usually sit with during lunch?”
“sure i do,” he hums, breaking into the brioche roll on his tray with his thumb before picking at the foil lid of the butter packet. “but i’ve spent the last few years with them. i want to make up for lost time with you.”
you suppose that makes sense, although a small part of you still wants to point out that the last thing you bonded over was the sand in your shoes over a decade ago. still, you decide to let it slide; maybe it’s just a natural thing, to want to reconnect with someone you remember fondly from way back when. there’s no real harm in that anyway, and you can’t deny that you’ve now become curious about him too — about how he’s grown up, about how he’s changed, and about how much has stayed the same from what little you can remember of his younger personality. you’ll be the first to admit that he’s grown well, with an objectively attractive face and a confident demeanor that supports it excellently.
not that you think about that deeply as you chat with him. he’s eager to talk, to learn more about your life in the time you were apart, and after a short while of feeling interrogated, you find an avenue to ask him about himself too. you learn that he’s in the football club, and that he’s back to playing regularly after suffering a mild knee injury quite recently. he tells you he’s into fortnite, and that just last night, he’d gotten six victory royales in a row, all on solo (you congratulate him honestly because that sounds like a good thing). you find out he’s grown slightly allergic to shellfish and that his mom forces him to join country club mixers, but that everyone there is just an old auntie that’s always slightly tipsy and trying to get him to go on a date with their nieces.
you realize that ajax is, at his core, the same kid you’d known — smart and proactive, freely sociable and eager to try new things. it’s nice to know that he’s still appropriately self-assured, and you think it makes sense that people find him magnetic, as evidenced by earlier that morning. by the end of the lunch hour, you’re stuffed full with tidbits about him, and he’d drawn out as many factoids as he possibly could about you. you walk back with him to the classroom in silence, and when the bell rings, he ruffles your hair lightly before making his way to his desk.
still, you anticipate that this is just a temporary spike in interest from him. there’s so little you can wring out from this situation, and you’re sure that ajax has better things to do than coddle a childhood friend constantly. after all, he has better, closer friends worth spending time with.
for some reason, though, his attention on you doesn’t wane; if anything, as the weeks progress, he embeds himself more deeply into your life. the constant lunches together are one thing, and you even ask him if he’d rather you go sit with the rest of his friends with him, to which he smoothly replies that ‘we can’t talk freely to each other in such a big crowd.’ however, when he learns that you go home alone (after an off-handed comment on your part about listening to the same playlist every afternoon), he starts walking you to the bus stop, even if it’s in the opposite direction from his own route. some mornings, he waits by the door to walk you into the classroom, already firing off about the shitty fortnite run he had last night (someone had sniped him from higher ground, which is totally unfair and unethical, unless he does it himself, of course); other days, you find a cup of coffee (milky and sweet, the way he knows you like it, given that he’s asked about your preferences insistently) sitting on your desk, with a smiley face on the cardboard sleeve that’s drawn on in his signature red sign pen.
gradually, it feels like the years that separated you both melt away. after being out of touch for so long, you now can’t imagine a day without ajax talking to you. you settle into this comfortable routine of relying on him, turning to him for both trivial and important matters, seeking him out over small victories and huge upsets. by the time you’re a senior, it feels like you’ve come full circle. ajax is, once again, your best friend, as he had been all those years ago, now always by your side.
of course, he isn’t your only friend now; you’re both older, and it’s impossible not to have a network at school. you’re amicable to practically everyone, and so is ajax, despite the fact that he seems to dedicate a fair amount of time and energy on you.
“wanna partner up for the chemistry project?” he asks suddenly after a particularly boisterous lunch involving enthusiastic recounts of last night’s pro wrestling match highlights that he’d stayed up to watch live. “thought it’d be stupid to ask you right away last week when i didn’t have a topic to pitch, but i did some research, and i thought we could do like a—”
“i already have a partner,” you cut him off sheepishly. “theo texted over the weekend and asked me. sorry — to be honest, i thought you’d be sick of being my partner at this point, since we’ve done almost every project together this year.”
“oh.” he does nothing to hide the surprise on his face, but something else crosses his expression that you don’t quite catch. it’s gone in the blink of an eye, smoothed over by a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “is that your kind of roundabout way of saying you’re sick of me?”
“no way!” you’re quick to deny, and maybe you should’ve anticipated this, but ajax hadn’t really seemed like the type to care about doing everything together. then again, now that you think about it in retrospect, there’s precious little you haven’t done together to begin with. “you know i love working with you. but i mean — it’s no big deal, right? tell you what — how about we do the infographic for english class together?”
“why? were you planning on ditching me for that, too?” he jokes, his elbow digging lightly into your side. “just don’t get too sad when you end up doing all the work. no other partner in this whole class is going to pull their weight like i do.”
“wow, do you have space in your head to learn with all that hot air going around?” you laugh. “i’ll be fine. theo’s a good guy.”
“i’m sure,” ajax hums, somehow more to himself than you. you figure he’s already thinking of who else to nab as a partner, so you leave things at that. you try not to read too deeply into the fact that he takes a long, slow look at theo from across the room before he settles down into his chair and starts digging around his backpack for a working pen.
with the weekend rolls an unexpected text; it’s theo, with a whole two-inch paragraph about how freya had begged him to be her partner, and how he thinks that he might do better following her project proposal than the ‘weak one he’d pitched to you,’ and he’s really sorry, but it’s not too late to find a new partner anyway, and best of luck! you miss out on the finer details of the excuse, given that it’s only seven-thirty in the morning, but you get the gist of it. with a heavy sigh, you roll over and call the most recent number you’d dialled, the last log being just yesterday evening.
“morning, sunshine.” ajax’s voice is cheery, like he’s been awake for a while now — and, weirdly, almost like he’s been expecting your call. “you woke up early for once.”
“theo texted,” you grumble, rubbing fiercely at your eye. “backed out of being my partner.”
“what an asshole.” he does well at the task of sounding empathic and affronted for your sake. “did he tell you why?”
“god, i don’t know. something about freya, or that his pitch was shit, i think.”
“well, he and freya do seem pretty close,” ajax says sagely. “so why’d you call me?”
“i’m pretty sure this is an asshole move on my part after i ditched you, but if you still don’t have a partner…”
there’s a brief silence on his end that makes you think he might’ve been offended, and honestly, you wouldn’t blame him completely; it’s not like you can avoid making it seem like this is a last-ditch attempt not to do the project alone.
“i mean, sure,” he suddenly speaks up, his voice strangely breezy. “what kind of best friend would i be if i said no?”
“well, i mean — if you don’t want to, or if you — i don’t know — have a partner already, i wouldn’t want you to ditch them for me, either…”
“nah, don’t worry about that. even if i had one — and i don’t, so don’t worry,” he adds before you can argue. “i’d still choose you.”
“thanks, ajax,” you mumble, feeling inexplicably embarrassed. “sorry for putting this on you.”
“you’re not putting anything on me,” he laughs. “but i wouldn’t mind if you said i was the best best friend ever a little more often.”
“you’re totally the best best friend ever,” you concede. “come over so we can finalize the topic?”
“damn straight.” he makes a noise that indicates he’s getting up from bed. “see you in thirty.”
for the rest of the year after that, every project you do, you only do with ajax.
as the months go by, and senior year comes to a slow close, you feel like there are things that pile up — things you can’t put a finger on, can’t seem to fully unpack — between you and ajax. he becomes more insistent that you should come watch his games, even if that means having to wake up at ungodly hours on a sunday to go to a different school across the district just to sit in the rain and see him kick a ball around really quickly. after games where the team wins, he expects you to join him and his family for a celebratory meal at his favorite diner, and after games where they don’t, he expects you to go back with him anyway and have lunch at his house. he always makes you sit next to teucer, who likes to rehash the ‘cool parts’ of the games and how ‘awesome’ ajax was with his last legendary pass or attempted goal, and you just nod along, trying to ignore how smug your best friend looks, like everything’s going according to plan (although, what that plan is, you really have no clue).
on days he doesn’t have practice, ajax even takes you home from school, riding the stuffy twenty-minute long bus ride and trekking the fifteen minute walk home with you, rain or shine. he always makes it an excuse to come in and lounge on your couch, scrolling twitter and showing you things that tickle him, until the sun goes down and his mom texts him to get back for dinner.
you chalk it up to his being naturally clingy, perhaps a bit protective now that it gets darker earlier in the day. but there are also things that you just can’t find an explanation for, like the way he calls you names he never used to — sweetheart and angel make it into his vocabulary a lot more these days. you’d once given him a funny look when he called you ‘babe,’ but he’d just laughed and said it was a bad habit he picked up recently, although you can’t imagine what activity would have formed such a habit in the first place. you let it go because it doesn’t really bother you immensely, but you sometimes wonder if he’s just piling it on you so that he can see you squirm. you wouldn’t put it past him to run an experiment like that, anyway.
then there was that time college results had come in through the school. you’d only applied to a small handful of institutions, what with your program interest being fairly niche; your main hope was that you’d get into zapolyarny tech, the top university in the capital city with a reputation for churning out successful people. ajax had applied to it too, though he was a likely shoe-in for a spot there, what with him going down the sports scholarship track.
homeroom on the day results were given out was absolute chaos; after five minutes of trying to shout herself hoarse over everyone’s chattering, your teacher had just given up and left the class to its own devices completely. it had felt strangely reminiscent of the last day of kinder — people crowding together to compare results and talk about whose offer they’d accept. you’d opened your envelope to see the list of schools that you’d passed, relieved to see snezhnograd university and belovodye institute were on there, along with smaller colleges you’d applied to as a fallback. still, it had been a bit of a punch in the gut not to see zapolyarny as an option.
“trade you,” ajax had interrupted your line of thought, and his paper had slipped across your desk as he tossed it. you’d offered him yours before unfurling his, and you’d seen it there: zapolyarny tech, with the asterisk next to the name that means that he’d been successful in nabbing the scholarship to boot.
“wow, congratulations!” you’d exclaimed, and your happiness for him had been genuine; you’d spent weeks before this chittering about how amazing the campus looked in all the pictures and how you’d stuff yourself full with the all-day all-you-can-eat student caf options. “ajax, that’s awesome — on a scholarship ride, and everything!”
“hmm?” he’d looked up from your paper, blinking rapidly. “oh, thanks. but, man, i don’t know. kind of been having second thoughts about zapolyarny these days. just doesn’t seem like my kind of place, if you get me?”
“what are you talking about?” you’d laughed in disbelief. “you once said that zapolyarny was the place that would birth the superstar version of you. what do you mean, second thoughts?”
“nothing; i just don’t want my judgment to be clouded by a semi-free ride, you know?”
“why wouldn’t you want to take advantage of a scholarship? it’s a scholarship, ajax. they’re practically paying you to go to the best university in the country. what else is there to consider?”
“just other stuff. it’s complicated,” he’d said vaguely. “where are you planning on going, then?”
“i don’t know. i guess snezhnograd. they’ve got affordable on-campus accommodations, and it isn’t as much of a trip from here to there, especially in comparison to — what are you doing?”
you’d watched, appalled, as ajax encircled snezhnograd university on both your papers with his red sign pen.
“i think snezhnograd’s great, too.” his response had been unnervingly smooth and easy. “for all the reasons you just said.”
“i meant for me,” you frown. “you’re a completely different case. you didn’t even apply for a scholarship there; you’ve got family near zapolyarny!”
“snezhnograd’s got a great sports sciences program; at least, it seemed like it when i looked into them.”
he’d capped his pen with a click of finality, and you’d just stared at him, completely at a loss for words. there’d been no logical reason for him to choose a lower-ranked school when he’d gotten a huge shot at the most prestigious one, yet there he’d been, folding both your papers and leaving them under the teacher’s file for submission.
“ajax,” you’d tried to say evenly, worried the stress in your voice would come out slightly deranged. “this is… i mean, think about it. you got into the best school in the country, and you’re turning it down — for what? it doesn’t make any sense.”
“do i need to have a reason?”
“of course!”
he’d stared at you thoughtfully, his dull blue eyes a little hazy. “well, would you have visited me in zapolyarny, if i’d gone?”
“i mean — yeah, why not? i guess i would’ve gone once in a while—”
“if i asked you to come everyday, would you have?” he’d pressed.
“what?” you’d rubbed your temples, feeling an oncoming headache at the turn the converation had taken. “of course not. the commute time alone, and the fare—”
“then, obviously, this was the most sensible choice. that way, we’d be on the same campus.”
you’d fallen silent, completely stumped. a large part of you had wanted to ask why that was even a consideration in all of this, but you hadn’t wanted to seem accusatory, for some reason. ajax had put his hands on your shoulders, holding you at arms length and squeezing, as if trying to work you out of a stupor — which, really, he pretty much had been.
“don’t overthink it, angel,” he’d said, so soothingly your shoulders had somehow untensed. “we made a promise, remember?”
the last week and a half of your senior year are messy, to say the least. it’s an endless array of last-minute requirements and tests that no one wants to study for, and it’s ultimately exacerbated by the end-of-the-year event that everyone seems to be talking about: homecoming.
the game is one thing to be excited for already, but what seems to be causing an uproar among the student population is the dance that comes after. more than once, you’ve walked into school in a hurry only to bear unwilling witness to a homecoming proposal that ultimately makes you late for first period. today is no different; you have to squeeze your way between the lockers and a tight throng of kids taking videos (despite the fact that cellphones during school hours are strictly banned) of some junior guy who’d painted his chest to ask a girl out. you’re lucky that ajax is waiting by the classroom door (as usual) and has the presence of mind and required strength to pull you out before you’re crushed by a wave of backpacks.
“is it just me, or has it never been this crazy before?” you grumble as you walk into the classroom with him.
“i just don’t think you’ve ever paid attention to it as much,” ajax says pointedly, watching you drop into your seat. “you’re still not planning on going this year? it’s our last, you know.”
you’ve always been fine with sticking it out at home; the tasks of finding a dress, finding a ride, and finding a date all seem like a lot of effort for next to no benefit. the stress you’ve seen people go through for one night has created an insurmountable amount of fear around it for you. that’s just your perspective, though. despite the fact that you’ve encouraged him to go, ajax always joins you in your non-attendance. he makes it a point to come over around the time when the dance starts, bearing snacks and old noir movies that you can’t really understand but that he really seems to enjoy talking through.
you’re on the fence for this year, to say the least. ajax does have a point; you don’t have any other opportunity to go to a homecoming, unless you count attending as an alum, which just seems like even more of a waste of time given that you’d be in a completely different city by that point.
“i don’t know, actually,” you sigh, shaking your backpack so that your stuff somehow rearranges into a slightly less bulky form. “i guess it would be pretty lame to sit it out my whole high school life, right? but i just wouldn’t know where to begin, if i’m being honest.”
before ajax can respond, however, a new shadow grows over the space you occupy. you look up to see a classmate, thalia, stopping just by your desk.
“are you guys talking about homecoming?” she’s chewing on her lip, eyes darting between the both of you. you nod, and she shifts her weight between her feet before she continues. “that’s cool. um… i was thinking — ajax, i heard you didn’t have a date yet to the dance.”
“i don’t,” ajax says coolly.
“oh! cool; so i was wondering if you’d maybe want to g—”
“i don’t have a date,” he continues, effectively cutting her off. “because i wasn’t planning on going in the first place.”
the silence that follows is so thick that you feel like you’re genuinely being suffocated. you stick your foot out, catching ajax’s shin with the heel, but if it hurts, he doesn’t show it.
“you did say it’s our last year,” you murmur. “you should go, ajax. i think it’d be fun for you.”
he assesses you with a thoughtful gaze, and you can’t help but feel like he’s picking you apart for some reason, like he’s expecting there’s some kind of subliminal message to your words. thalia is just rooted to the spot, face flushed and looking a little regretful at having approached at all.
“we always hang out on homecoming night, though.” he says it slowly, like it’s some kind of gentle reminder for an amnesiac you.
“that’s just — he’ll get back to you,” you direct your words at thalia, who starts a little and looks to you. “he’s just… just give him some time.”
she nods and scurries off, likely less distressed at the lack of an answer and more relieved at being given an out from such an awkward turn of events.
“i’m not saying you have to go,” you sigh once she’s out of earshot. “but if you’re just sticking it out because i don’t want to, then it kind of makes me feel like a warden.”
“i don’t mind it, though.” his reply is honest and immediate. “i’d rather stay in with you.”
“okay, but that’s — i mean, you don’t have to.” it frustrates you that you can’t seem to properly articulate what about this just seems ridiculous. “you don’t have to make it a pity party. i’m not sitting around moping.”
you don’t expect him to plant both his hands on your desk and lean in; his face is so close to yours that you can see the quiver of his pupils as he looks straight into your eyes.
“you think that i just hang around you because i pity you?” his voice is quiet. you stiffen, forgetting how to swallow, forgetting how to breathe. “you think i don’t have any other reason?”
you blink slowly, practically short-circuiting. you want to consider his words, but you draw up a complete blank; it’s hard to think clearly when he’s this close to you, and when he’s so uncharacteristically serious. his gaze looks like it’s trying to tell you something, quite fiercely and forcefully, but what it is, you can’t properly decipher.
“um,” is all you can say after a sticky pause. “s… orry?”
he exhales in an inexplicably tired way, shaking his head. “look — if you wanna go, we’ll go. if you don’t want to, we won’t. and for the record, i don’t want to deal with a date i don’t really care about. that’s all there is to it. okay?”
you nod dumbly. he takes a moment to search your face for any sign of further response before he straightens up, leaving you with another hair ruffle. you could swear that he murmurs ‘good girl,’ under his breath while he does it, but you’re so out of sorts that he’s gone before you can bring it up and question it.
at the end of the day, you spend your last homecoming as you’d spent all others: with ajax, sitting criss cross applesauce on your couch, a bowl-sized pack of wild berry skittles tucked between his thighs. he’s spent more minutes of shutter island fishing around for his favorite flavor (grape) than actually watching for some reason, so you don’t feel too bad interrupting his concentration with an out of the blue question.
“think it’s going well over there?”
“over where?” comes his immediate response as he separates the different colored candies from the purple ones, letting them fall back into the pack with those hard shell tic-tic-tics.
“at the homecoming dance.” you lower the volume of the television because mark ruffalo’s yelling at leonardo di caprio over the sound of some kind of hurricane, and it’s a little grating. “think it’s… i don’t know. fun?”
“can’t be more fun than watching two guys trying to get to the bottom of some mystery at an asylum,” he shrugs before looking up at you. it’s only then that he notices you’re chewing your lip, and he pops the handful of grape skittles into his mouth before moving the whole pack to the floor. “what’s going on? are you having second thoughts?”
“no, it’s just — i don’t know. now that i’m thinking about it, it is our last year, so it kind of seems silly to be missing out on it.” you also want to say that you hate that you kind of ruined this for him, but you don’t want him to resent you even more than he probably already does.
“we can still go. i’ve got my learner’s permit, so if your parents don’t mind a couple of dings on their car…”
you snort, although the sound is pretty half-hearted. “like i’ll be able to get a dress at this time of night, anyway.”
“that’s what your worried about?” he has the gall to sound thoroughly amused. “just pick any old dress you’ve got upstairs. it’ll be fine.”
“right, because i’d blend right in with my just finished sunday service glam look.”
“you could show up in a potato sack; no one would care.”
“cool, let me just bust out my snazziest potato sack,” you say wryly, and he chuckles.
“that didn’t come out right. i meant that you could wear something plain, and you’d still be a smokeshow. plus,” he thumps his chest with an air of pride. “you’ll be walking in with me. i guarantee heads will turn. everyone’ll be so jealous, and you’ll instantly win homecoming queen.”
“forget it,” you half-groan, half-laugh, because now you’re picturing yourself walking into the school gym with your arm looped around ajax’s, and it somehow doesn’t feel like the most horrible thing in the world. “my thoughts were just going haywire for a second there.”
you make to turn the volume up again, but ajax grabs the remote, stuffing it behind a cushion on the far end of the couch. “hey, i was just kidding. what does it matter, anyway? i thought you were kind of averse to all that pomp and drama.”
“i mean, it’s not like i hate it; i just felt like it was so much work with so little pay off. but then — i don’t know. i was thinking about it, and i feel like there’s just stuff that happens there that makes the experience unique in its own way.”
ajax doesn’t even bother to hide his bemusement; he actually comically scratches his head before asking, “what kind of stuff?”
“dunno. dancing to old hits? drinking shitty punch? people fighting over the dates they wanted, making out behind the bleachers and getting caught by a teacher — that quintessential high school experience, i guess. but like i said, it’s no big deal.” you wave it off. “hand me the remote, would you?”
“you want to dance? we can dance.”
you watch him unfurl his limbs and stand, adjusting the waistband of his jeans. “i don’t mean here. i mean like the kind of experience that you only get by being there.”
“what’s the difference? close a couple of the lights, put on that dancey whitney houston song, and it’ll be basically the same thing.” his tone is light, but his grin is mischeivous, his hands wrapping around your wrists and urging you up with him. “or do you wanna line it up with the actual hour? around this time, they play ballads from the eighties and the parent alums slow dance.”
he doesn’t even give you the option to say no; his arms are already around your waist, dragging you closer to his torso.
“can we just forget i brought anything up and watch the movie?” you mumble, although you still let him maneuver your arms so that they’re hanging (a little limply) off his shoulders. “seriously, ajax…”
the rest of your protests, weak as they already were, die in your throat as he starts to sway the both of you. it’s all just awkward movement, graceless and with no sense of musicality, given that the background noise is just the muffled argument between leonardo di caprio’s character and some half-naked guy in a dingy jail cell. you’re pretty sure some important plot point’s being revealed here, but you’re distracted by the fact that ajax is so close to you, and he seems to be intently looking at your face, as if he’s hellbent on making this as realistic a homecoming experience for you as possible.
as the seconds tick by, you think you should be checking out or pulling away, but for some reason, you’re doing neither. you settle for staring at your feet as your weight shifts in time with his lead, and now you’re starting to realize how nice ajax always smells and how warm he is.
“hey, look at me.”
you comply before you can question it, and you regret it almost immediately. ajax’s face is so close to yours, and the deep blue of his eyes seem to be robbing you of both breath and speech. luckily, if he notices you’re acting skittish, he doesn’t make it known; he just smiles, weirdly tender and encouraging.
“you know it doesn’t matter if we’re at school or not, right? what matters is that you have these kinds of experiences at the right time, with the right people.”
“the right people, meaning you?”
“i mean, would you rather dance like this with — i don’t know, a snot-nosed junior that just wants to get in your pants for the night?”
it lasts for only a second, so you must have imagined it, but you could honestly swear that ajax’s hold on your waist tightens as he says that line. he makes it sound like a lighthearted joke, but something in his gaze seems to prompt you to actually respond.
“i guess not.”
he hums, seemingly satisfied with that answer. a few more beats pass with the both of you just swaying in the confines of some invisible square on your living room carpet. then, “what else was on your list?”
“huh?”
“dancing, and drinking punch, and — oh,” he grins, all lopsided and annoyingly attractive. “should we make out?”
“come off it,” you grumble, stopping your movement. neither of you step away, though; somehow, this position feels weirdly comfortable.
“i’m being serious.” his punctuating laugh is airy and low. “what — are you going to end your whole high school life without kissing someone?”
“that’s not — i haven’t — what do you…” you splutter, and his smile grows annoyingly wider. “that’s none of your business!”
“don’t be ashamed,” he chides. “i think it’s really cute that you haven’t had your first kiss.”
“as if you have!”
“of course i have. i’m not lying,” he adds in a matter-of-factly voice, just as you open your mouth to bite back. “i had it in middle school. she transferred out the year after. now, whether it was good or not is a totally different matter, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss.”
you hate that this information makes you feel inexplicably small. it really shouldn’t matter; it’s not like the marker for a successful high school life is how many people you’ve kissed (or if you’ve kissed anyone at all), but knowing that even ajax, who’s never seemed to entertain girls for as long as you’ve known him in high school, has already experienced what you haven’t — it makes you feel like an incomplete person, somehow.
he seems to take your silence as consideration, so he adds, “it’s not a big deal. people kiss all the time, and it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to. besides, that’s kind of the point of having a best friend. you can think of it as a… trial run, or something. better me than that hypothetical snot-faced junior, right?”
it’s not even that ajax is a terrible choice for this. by all accounts, he actually seems like a perfect candidate: attractive, experienced (relatively, in comparison to you, at least), and, most important, trustworthy. he can’t be getting anything out of it, you think; he’s just doing it to be a genuinely good friend that doesn’t want you to go into college without a first kiss under your belt.
your slow nod’s almost imperceptible, but he catches it anyway. in one smooth swoop, ajax captures your lips, and you’re immediately assaulted by the sugary sweetness of the candy he’d just had. he tastes like artificial grape and that purple total care listerine he’d used in your guest bathroom before you’d settled down for the movie, and by all accounts, it’s not a bad mixture of flavors. at least it isn’t remnants of, like, roasted garlic and oil pasta and diet coke, or whatever else was on the proposed menu for homecoming.
with how gung-ho ajax is about practically everything in his life, you expect his kissing to be the same. you anticipate messy enthusiasm and a lot of tongue, teeth clashing and a lot of mistakes. but he’s so careful — so unbelievably slow and tender that you wonder if he’s just been lying to you about his personality this whole time. he takes his time letting your lips fit and melt together, doesn’t push for you to give more than you feel like offering at the moment. it’s when you exhale that a little bit of the fire in him seems to ignite, his tongue coming out to trace the parted seam of your lips, but he doesn’t go any further than that — like he’s a little worried, like he’s holding himself back. your slightly muddled mind can’t seem to decide what to focus on: the feeling of his lips against yours, or his hold on your waist, tightening and squeezing like he’s stopping himself from pulling you flush against him.
a dull thud from upstairs has you both jumping apart; you stare, flushed and wide-eyed, at him as a few more noises that follow remind you that your parents are home. they don’t come down, though, and soon it’s quiet again, but the weird atmosphere that had hung around while you were lip-locked has already been fully shattered.
ajax’s smile is a little sheepish as he speaks. “i mean, if we’re talking about people catching us…”
“i would’ve flung myself off the roof if they had,” you mutter, flopping back down onto the couch. you ignore the fact that your face is hot and that your lips feel all tingly. “enough about this homecoming business. can we please get back to the movie?”
you only catch a glimpse of leonardo di caprio before ajax’s tall form blocks your view. he leans in, arms outstretched and resting against the back of the couch you’re on, caging you in.
“no positive reviews? you’re being pretty cruel. are we even friends?”
“i don’t have any other experiences to compare it to, so what kind of feedback do you want?” you don’t want to explain that the kiss had left you feeling so flustered either, so there’s that.
“fair enough. anyway, i kind of like that that’s true,” he hums. his hand brushes your hair back, and he chances another light kiss against your forehead that you make a noise of protest against (that he pointedly ignores). “happy homecoming, angel.”
for the first semester at university, you’re required to live on campus. snezhnograd’s freshman dormitory is pretty nice, all things considered, and you like that you don’t have to wake up at ass o’clock to take the train to class. your roommate, lumine, is a tourism major who either knows everyone on campus or just had everyone in her graduating class attend snezhnograd at the same time for some reason, which means that she’s extroverted and eager to talk. you like that she’s also extremely generous with the food she makes — and that her cooking’s superb, too — so in all, you can’t complain about your set-up.
you can’t say the same for ajax, though. he’s rooming with a theology major named scaramouche, who’s apparently as pompous and as headache-inducing as his name and future degree suggest. he regularly texts after his afternoon classes end, bemoaning having to go back to their ‘stuffy dorm room’ where he’ll once again be ‘met with a barrage of facts about the history of religious thought’ because scaramouche, apparently, likes to study by using the conversation method, despite the fact that ajax has told him repeatedly that it bothers him that scaramouche uses a ‘condescending teacher voice’ when he goes about it. in fact, based on reports from ajax’s (admittedly biased) side, scaramouche doubles down whenever ajax complains and sometimes goes ‘pop quiz, everyone!’ just to piss him off.
most of your late afternoons and early evenings are therefore spent in the common areas in the dormitory building. somehow, ajax always manages to nab a sitting space with a free television (that, or he wheedles people into giving up their seats) so that he can put on hbo max on the off chance that he’ll catch a house of the dragon episode. he doesn’t even seem to like it for the story; he seems more interested in watching british people be snippy at each other in old english.
“i was thinking,” he starts, after checking hbo and seeing that it’s just heretic playing. “after first semester, we’ll have to live off-campus. do you have any plans for that?”
“not really.” however, now that he’s brought it up, you probably should start thinking about it; the semester’s more than halfway through, and it won’t be easy to find nearby housing unless you’re willing to sell your body and soul to a demonic landlord for it. “why? do you?”
“i was looking into a few apartments near campus, and a lot of them seem okay, but they’re a bit pricey if it’s just me renting, especially since most of them are two-bedroom setups.”
“sure you don’t want scaramouche’s name on the long-term lease with you?” you joke, and he throws you a wry look.
“funny. i was thinking — did you wanna check it out? you know, be roommates, and all that?”
you consider it; you don’t know much about ajax’s day to day living habits, but he seems to take care of himself pretty well. from what you’ve seen, he can cook, and he keeps his desk and room relatively clean. you don’t even know if that’s such a big point, given that you’ll have your own separate spaces anyway, and you can’t see him outright refusing you if you wanted to split chores.
“i’d probably have to ask my parents, but that wouldn’t be a bad idea,” you admit. “it might also depend on the rent and utilities cost, though.”
“would it incentivize you if we split it unevenly? we could go seventy-thirty. i wouldn’t mind at all.”
“why would we do that?” you throw him a bemused look. “fifty-fifty’s fine. just as long as it isn’t an overpriced loft or something, it should be okay, right?”
“no, they’re all just standard places. of course, it would be cheaper if we got a one-bedroom.”
“i’m not sleeping on the couch.”
“who said you had to?” you swear you see the ghost of a smirk flit across his face before it’s gone, back into that half-bored expression he’s had all afternoon. “there’d be room for a big bed.”
“ha ha. show me the apartments you were viewing, then. the two-bedroom ones,” you add firmly. he just shrugs and unlocks his phone obediently.
you spend the rest of the early evening scanning through potential listings and weighing out their pros and cons. it’s nice that ajax seems to be fairly agreeable to the options you like, with practically no pushback on his part. then again, you figure it’s just because he’s not a fussy person when it comes to these things. the conversation stretches even until dinner, where you’re discussing potential house rules, should the situation come to fruition, while ajax fiddles with the tabletop burner between you.
“honestly, if we’re trying to be practical, it’d make the most sense for us to have, like, a joint account for shared expenses.” you dip your chopsticks into the hot pot broth, giving the collagen soup a stir. there’s an obscene amount of thinly sliced meats stewing in there, courtesy of ajax’s argument that he’s ‘constantly growing.’ “it’d save us the hassle of doing math every time we have to go to the grocery or, like, go out for dinner, or something.”
“say less,” he chuckles. “this is all feeling very domestic. not that that’s a complaint, mind you.”
“i’m just trying to think about things that’d make our lives easier.” you tap your chopsticks over the rim of the container. “another thing too — if you’re going to bring a girl over, can you at least give me a heads up so that i can make plans or something like that?”
for some reason, he looks genuinely shocked. “what do you mean, bring a girl over?”
“i mean, we’re in college now,” you shrug. “you’re probably going to have a girlfriend or at least hook up with someone, right?”
the silence that falls over him is unnerving. it doesn’t seem like he’s given that any thought, which makes no sense to you. it’s not like there’s a shortage of cute girls for him to look at; in fact, at the dorm alone, he’s been stopped by multiple freshmen bold enough to ask for his number. you always have to walk ahead when this happens, so you just naturally assume he gives them his contact info before he catches up with you. and while it probably won’t happen this semester, given the dormitory’s strict rules, once he has a place of his own (sort of), he’ll be a liberty to bring home any one of them — or all of them, if he’s that kind of adventurous (honestly, you wouldn’t put it past him).
“are you planning on bringing guys home, too?” his question is laced with curiosity, as expected, but there’s also a hint of accusation, like he can’t decide if you’re trying to set up a double standard or something.
“i don’t have any immediate plans,” you reply honestly. “but i can’t guarantee it one way or another. if it happens, you’ll obviously be the first to know.”
he hums this low, thoughtful noise and starts picking the meat out of the broth. it’s a herculean task for him, it seems, because he’s never been comfortable using chopsticks. after a minute’s struggle, he gives up and starts using a fork. you notice that despite the fact that he’d ordered the meats for himself, he gives you a larger share of it onto your bowl before passing it to you.
“now that i’m thinking about it, i think i’d prefer if you didn’t bring anyone home.”
“oh.” you pause in the act of dipping your sliced meat into the peanut sauce, letting it soak in. “i mean, that’s fair.”
“i just think that space should just be our own, you know?”
“sure, i get that. but things happen, and sometimes you can’t predict how plans will go, so i’m just making sure we’ve got all our bases covered.” you crack a smile that somehow feels like it’s meant to be reconciliatory. “it’s not like you’d want me raiding the fridge while you’re at third base with your girl on the couch, right?”
“not going to happen,” he says flatly. “so don’t worry about it.”
“you say that now, ajax, but you’ll never know wh—”
“not,” he repeats, a dull fierceness in his gaze. “going to happen. trust me on this.”
you watch him shovel like four pieces of meat in a saucy, dripping wad into his mouth in one go, feeling perplexed. vaguely, you register that he’d dunked all that in chili oil, and it’s a miracle he isn’t hacking up a lung right now. “okay. i respect that.”
“so you won’t bring any guys over to our place either, right?”
“not if it makes you uncomfortable, i guess.”
“it makes me super uncomfortable,” he echoes quickly, like he’s eager to get the point across. you shrug in your concession, and though you hadn’t noticed him tense up, something in his posture relaxes. “cool. i’m glad we worked that particular kink out.”
you’re not sure you could even classify it as ‘being worked out,’ but you let him have it; since ajax had already been so docile earlier in the evening when you’d looked at options and started setting some potential ground rules, you think it’d be better to simply give him this.
you just make a silent promise that you’ll get out of his way once he inevitably goes back on his statement.
it’s almost a no-effort task to get your parents to agree to the set-up; they like and trust ajax, and they enjoy the fact that you won’t need to use a car for the rest of your university life even better, given that the apartment you all settle on is walking distance from campus. ajax puts his sports-honed muscles to work on moving day, carrying a lot of the semi-heavies and jokingly insisting that you just ‘sit on the couch the movers brought up so that it kinda looks like there’s already decor in the living room.’ he somehow has enough energy after the whole move to help you screw in your six-tier ikea bookshelf and cook an extremely flavorful pesto and spinach mac and cheese, at which point you realize you’re basically dead weight in this apartment, like a puppy that’s just waiting for its kibble and belly rubs.
you tell yourself that you’ll make up for it in chores, but ajax must have been a robot butler in his past life with the way he keeps things orderly, both in common spaces and in his room. the only thing you have to worry about is your personal mess, which you try to keep minimal and contained to your room at first — but then you realize that even if you wanted to do that, you couldn’t, because ajax spends almost as much time in your room as he does in his.
in the first few weeks of living together, he’d stick to knocking on your door before poking his head in through a crack to wake you up, letting the scent of whatever he’d made for breakfast waft in to arouse your senses. but as time passes and the semester wears on, he seems to abandon that tactic. more than once, your eyes have fluttered open only to widen in shock as you focus on the sight of him, settled on your bed with a small smile. you don’t even know if you sleep so deeply that his presence just doesn’t disturb you, or if he’s just that good at slipping in quietly. whenever you grumble a ‘what are you doing,’ he just ignores you and says ‘finally awake, sunshine?’
after dinner, he always follows you into your room, taking up a space on the bed he pretty much designates as his spot. you don’t usually mind it, given that what usually follows is a nice, long chat about everything and nothing all at once, or sometimes a card game (you’re both shit at poker, and you barely know how to play it besides, but it’s still fun trying to outbid each other), or a few episodes of whatever anime you’d heard was trendy these days, just to try. you just wonder if he’s doing this because he thinks it’s what roommates are supposed to do together or if it’s because he just has nothing better to do on his own.
“you’re on your phone an awful lot these days,” he throws at you casually, not even tearing his eyes away from the television. you don’t even know how he’s noticed; he’d seemed pretty engrossed in the show ever since the pink-haired kid had eaten the gross old finger. “gojo satoru not doing it for you, or is it a school thing?”
“sorry.” you put your phone face down on your stomach. “not important. just… something mualani — you remember her? from my globalization in teyvat class?”
“white hair? marine sciences major who ate all our fried shrimp beanballs? yeah, i remember her.”
“yeah. she — um, just introduced me to this app. i was just trying it out for shits and giggles.”
“what app?”
you pause for an embarrassing beat, though why you should feel any modicum of shame is beyond you. you’re an adult, and you can make adult choices, and ajax is also an adult who’d understand that naturally. still, your face is warm and pink when you mumble out, “tinder.”
you expect him to laugh at you or poke fun, but what comes next is veritably worse in the end: just this pointed silence that makes you feel like he’s actively judging you, either for being desperate enough to try tinder or being so out of touch that you’re only trying it now, at someone else’s recommendation.
“oh.” he doesn’t take his eyes off the television, but something about his tone makes you feel like he’s not really paying attention anymore. “meet anyone interesting?”
“to be fair, i swiped left on a lot of people.” not that he needs the useless preamble. “but… yeah, i’m… tomorrow. i’m going out with someone.”
“for?”
“just dinner downtown.”
“what’s his name?”
“albedo. he’s — he seems like a really nice guy. smart — he’s an engineering student from dragonspine university — and he’s really easy to talk to. and he’s… cute, i guess.” you don’t know why saying all this feels like pulling your own teeth out. the fact that ajax seems to be asking so seriously is making things worse, for some reason. you almost want to ask him if he knows anything about albedo, like if he’s some kind of serial killer you just haven’t heard about.
ajax mutes the television and leans his head back on your headboard, exhaling slowly. “so you’re not coming home tomorrow?”
“i mean — i didn’t think that far ahead,” you admit. “i just thought we’d have a normal date and… i don’t think that’d mean anything’s expected or required after.”
“you met him on tinder.” ajax’s laugh is weirdly humorless. “of course he’s going to expect you to come over after.”
“that’s not…” your voice trails off into nothingness when you realize how stupidly naive you sound. you are an adult, which means that adult things can and would happen to you. the memory of mualani saying she’d met a seemingly nonchalant gamer guy on tinder who’d actually rocked her world for a whole weekend surfaces, and you squeeze your eyes shut for a second. “okay, maybe. so?”
“so nothing. isn’t that what you wanted? why did you sound so surprised?”
“i wasn’t — it just wasn’t the first thing on my mind. some people go on dates just to go on them, you know.”
your phone trills, and because your curiosity wins out, you flip over your phone. you’re sure ajax can also see the message preview from albedo asking you if meeting at this restaurant near his place would be okay, even if you dim the lock screen quickly.
“sure they do,” he shrugs. “just not this albedo guy from tinder.”
you feel kind of stupid for not thinking about that; it’s not as if your messages had been overtly flirty, but it also makes a ridiculous amount of sense that, in this day and age, a first date from an online dating app would lead to some kind of intimacy.
and now you kind of feel in over your head, owing to the fact that you’ve never been remotely intimate with anyone else. it just hasn’t been high on your priority list as of yet, and while you could imagine yourself being okay with it now, you feel like, for a first time, you’d need some kind of emotional preparation you’re clearly not going to have, especially not with a virtual stranger (that you’ve talked to for about a week, sure, but still someone you’ve never personally laid eyes on).
“you okay?” ajax asks after you don’t end up saying anything to continue the conversation.
“yeah. it’s fine. i just…”
“didn’t think your first time would be with some guy you’ve never met named albedo?”
you groan. you’re not even sure if that’s going to be an experience you’ll want to remember, and maybe that shouldn’t matter in the modern world, but if all you’re going to take away from it is that you were awkward and self-conscious with some guy you’ve only spoken to a handful of times, you’d rather cancel the date. except common courtesy dictates that you really shouldn’t, and you don’t want to have to explain to albedo why you can’t go, or worse, lie about it, and also, you are a goddamn adult who shouldn’t be so worked up about something so trivial.
“i get it. what if he’s small? or worse, he sucks? totally valid reason to cancel a date, by the way,” ajax continues, and you definitely catch a bit of a smirk on his face before he smooths it out.
“that’s not what i’m worried about,” you say dryly.
“if you’re worried about anything, you should cancel the date.”
“it’s not like that; it’s just complicated for me. and it’s just — maybe if i had some time, or some advice beforehand—”
“or some experience,” he adds helpfully.
“yeah, or that. then it wouldn’t feel weird or like, i don’t know — daunting, i guess.”
“so get some.”
“time?” you can’t help but roll your eyes at how stupid it sounds. “or are you planning on giving me advice?”
“no, experience.”
“even more absurd.”
“okay then,” he shrugs, turning the television off and hauling himself off your bed. “then i wish you all the best of luck with your first date with albedo from dragonspine university, who probably has a small dick.”
you watch him gather his things — his hoodie that he’d been using to elevate his head, his phone, and the unopened pack of sweet corn chips he’d brought in to munch on — with this growing sense of despair. at the same time that what he’s saying sinks into you, you start telling yourself that you really shouldn’t consider it. it’s wrong on so many levels, with special emphasis on the fact that you both live together and will have to see each other every damn day, and also he’s your best friend, and you’re pretty sure there’s some truth out there about how friendships never survive these kinds of things.
but you have also kissed him, and ajax has never blabbed about it or even brought it up in any way that would jeopardize your friendship. in fact, if you’re trying to be really stupid about it, he’d been your first kiss, so it kind of comes full circle that he’d also be your first…
“ajax,” you squeak out before he can open the door to your room.
“my advice for you — and this is for free — is that if he tries to get you to dress up, or, worse, if he tries to dress himself up, you shou—”
“look, forget about that.” your throat feels exceptionally dry as you swallow. “um.”
he turns back to you, and suddenly you can’t bear to meet his eyes. in fact, you kind of feel like throwing up, so you just get all your words out in a flustered hurry.
“the experience you were saying — it won’t be weird if we just, um, if we just practiced, right?”
“practiced? what, like just the tip?” he seems to take pity on you when your pleading eyes shoot back to him, but he still looks vaguely amused. “weird though — nah. not at all. we’re closer than that, aren’t we?”
you are close. you’re close, and you’re both adults, and this is ajax — trustworthy, dependable ajax who always looks out for you and has been with you through thick and thin. this is going to be fine.
“yeah,” you breathe out, more to yourself than to him. “it’ll be okay.”
his smile’s reassuring as he sets one knee onto the mattress, beckoning you to come closer to the edge. you hesitate for a moment, then steel yourself with the thought that you technically started this, and that you have to see it through, and then you start inching closer to him, one jerky and minute movement at a time.
not that it matters, considering that at the next second, ajax has your ankles in a tight grip and tugs you towards him in one quick motion. you yelp, feeling the drag of the blanket on your back.
“what the hell!” despite your indignation, your voice is choked and small, greatly weakening the overall impact of your words.
“if i let you set this pace, it’s going to take us until sunrise before anything good happens.” his hand reaches up to cup your chin, angling your face towards him. like this, you can’t do anything but stare at him. “so just trust me and follow along, okay?”
you scan ajax’s features one at a time — his eyes, his nose, his lips, the shape of his face. maybe it’s just the situation that you’re in, but it feels like you’re seeing him for the first time. it isn’t the composition of all those things that makes it feel so foreign, exactly, but the way they are now — the way they make an expression that you feel like you’ve never seen on him before tonight.
he looks… hungry, you realize, like someone who’s been starving for days on end. his lips are slightly parted, looking like they’re ready to say something, but all that comes out at first are deep breaths that seem desperate to appear even. is he worried about something? does doing this actually affect him negatively?
you touch his wrist lightly. “hey, um — if you don’t actually want to do this, we don’t ha—”
“no way.” his response is sharp and immediate. “we’re doing this.”
“you just seem— i don’t know…”
“don’t worry about me. i’ve been more than ready.”
before you can even ask what that’s supposed to mean, he closes the gap between you two. it hadn’t been that long ago since you’d kissed him, but you only now learn that whatever it was that had happened back on homecoming night was not a real kiss — not in the way that really mattered. ajax’s lips move over yours in a more insistent frenzy that you can’t help but get swept up in; his mouth is still just as warm and as soft as back then, but the kiss he presses against you now is infinitely more sure, more demanding. you react without thinking, letting his tongue slip past your teeth easily, and you taste him much more sharply now too.
he coaxes your tongue into a sloppy dance that you think you’d be embarrassed about if you had even a modicum of the wherewithal for rational thought, but all that you can think of is how good and wet and right it feels. a groan passes between the two of you, though you can’t really decipher the source, and ajax’s weight bears down on you until you’re lying back onto the bed, his lips still hot and eager, locked on yours.
when you start to feel a little lightheaded, you tap his shoulder, and you’re sure the noise that comes after is from him this time — a grumble of dissatisfaction as he pulls away, allowing you room to breathe. “what is it? s’not good?”
“no, i just—” you don’t even know what to say, so you blurt out the first thing on your mind. “did you kiss her like that?”
“what? who?”
“that girl from middle school that you said—”
“let’s not fucking talk about her right now,” he mumbles, pressing another quick and firm kiss to your half-open mouth, followed by another, and then another, until you’re breathing hard again.
“i just—” your voice dies in your throat as ajax leans down, burying his face into the crook of your neck. you feel his lips there — warm, open-mouthed kisses followed by the graze of his teeth against your skin, the dig of them as he nips into you. your head lolls to the side, and he makes a pleased little sound at being granted more access, doubling down on his efforts. you think he finds a particular spot he likes, just above your collarbone, because his mouth lingers there, sucking dutifully on the inch or two of skin for what seems like a day and an age (in which time your mind grows a little hazier, your body a little more aroused) until he pulls away. he admires whatever mark he left there with the ghost of a satisfied smile.
“sorry.” even though he says that, he doesn’t look particularly apologetic. “think you might have to wear a turtleneck or something tomorrow.”
“what?” it dawns on you a second too late, and you flush, shoving at his shoulder weakly. “are you kidding me?”
“if you don’t want to, it’s fine. you could show it off — your first hickey.” his breath fans over the still tender spot as he leans back down, nosing at the mark. “actually, why don’t you?”
“you know i can’t do th—” you stifle a noise when his hands slip under your shirt, warm palms digging into your waist.
“hm? why not?”
“you damn well know why, ajax. it’d be rude to albedo.”
“right, of course,” he drawls out. his hands travel up your sides, dragging the hem of your shirt up with his wrists. you squirm minutely as he pushes the fabric up just under your chin, exposing your tits to the cold air. “albedo.”
you fling an arm over your eyes, suddenly feeling like you don’t want to see the exact moment ajax descends again, but you feel it anyway in all that darkness — the press of his mouth against your flesh, the way his tongue swipes out to flick your nipple playfully. it pebbles just at that, and you suddenly wish you could crawl in a hole and die when he hums appreciatively before offering it another light kiss.
“nice, smart, cute albedo,” he continues, and though his touches and kisses feel languid, there’s a slight hardness to his voice that has you shivering. “who’s going to fuck you tomorrow.”
you almost ask him what the hell he’s doing, but you get completely sidetracked by the feeling of his teeth digging into your nipple, and a yelp escapes you instead. your back lifts off the bed, and ajax uses that as an opportunity to slip his arm under you and around your waist. he keeps you half-arched, your chest pushed up, and sees that as a self-made invitation to attach his lips to your nipple, sucking firmly until you’re keening and weakly writhing in his hold.
the noises he makes are obscene, all happy and indulgent, and you wonder if he’s overacting just to piss you off, but it’s not like you can even ask; your own mouth’s too busy moaning anyway. at some point, your fingers had threaded into his hair, and now you’re tugging with all your strength’s worth. it just seems to fuel ajax all the more.
he sets you free when you hiccup a ‘wait, wait,’ gently easing you back down onto the bed. two fingers tap on the arm across your face, and you move it away, opening your eyes to the starry and all-too-vivid sight of ajax, straightened up, with his lips slick with his own saliva and reddened from effort, tugged down into a slight frown.
“you gonna let him see you like this?”
“i— he — what?”
“are you going to let him see you like this?” he repeats. his hand skims up the plane of your stomach, cupping the neglected breast and giving it a firm squeeze. his thumb drags over your nipple, once, twice, then settles flat on it, circling in slow, tortuous motions. “gonna show him your pretty body, all ready for him to take?”
“i don’t know, i—” you don’t know what answer to give him that will erase the slight hardness in his gaze. you don’t even understand where all these questions are from. “what does this even have to do with practice…?”
“practice. right,” he says stonily. “because you’re doing this for him.”
he rights his posture, standing at the edge of the bed and towering down over you. you don’t move, just watch him carefully as he reaches out, trailing his hands down the sides of your thighs.
“can you take off your shorts for me, angel?” he murmurs after a pause; his voice sounds strained, and you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard. “panties too.”
you can barely hear the rustle of your clothing while you comply; your heart’s beating too loudly in your ears, your pulse throbbing in your temples. ajax helps you when your panties get caught around your ankle, and then you’re practically bare in front of him. he urges you to lie back again, but he’s got his hands around your calves that are pressed together, held aloft and giving you a false sense of decency.
it doesn’t last for too long, though. ajax eases your legs apart, and you can’t help the way your hands fly up to your hot cheeks as he gazes down at your exposed core. he looks at it with a concentration you’ve never seen on him — never in class, never in games. it’s like he’s intent on memorizing every inch of you.
“fuck,” he suddenly breathes out, startling you into a deeper shade of red. “fuck, baby.”
“what?” you squeak out, wishing he’d make eye contact or something so you could tell if he means that in a good or bad way.
“prettiest fucking pussy i’ve ever seen,” he hums, the volume of his voice strangely reverent.
“don’t — don’t say weird stuff like that, you assho— oh my god,” you whine, unable to keep any real heat in your voice as he swipes at your slit with a long finger.
“not weird. not kidding.” he drags the same finger down, easing your sticky folds apart and then coming away with an embarrassing amount of your slick on the digit. “holy shit. fuck, that’s pretty.”
you squeeze your eyes shut for another long moment, partly because you can’t look at him looking at you like that, but also partly because your whole body feels like it’s throbbing with arousal after just one stupid touch.
but they fly open when you feel ajax’s fingers again, this time fitting themselves right between your folds. it’s an imperfect measurement, his digits far too long, which means that the tips of them brush against your entrance.
“oh my god — what the fuck are you—” you squeal as he pulls his fingers apart, spreading your folds obscenely. “stop — stop messing around, jesus—”
you don’t even know if he’s agreeing to your request or not when he starts rubbing your folds, spreading your juices across the slightly puffy skin. it feels weirdly good, but also clearly not enough, and you soon realize it’s because you want something — want him — inside you.
he seems to read your mind, and in the next downward motion, his middle finger catches against your entrance, then curls inward. the tip of it teases at your hole, and you can actually feel the way you tighten around nothing, like you’re trying to suck him in but he’s just a few millimeters out of reach.
“pussy as pretty as this, and you’re just going to let some asshole look at it? touch it, just like this?” you’re not even sure if he’s talking to you or more to himself at this point. “no fucking way. not fucking happening.”
you cry out as he sinks a finger into you, up to the middle knuckle. it isn’t anything big, but it’s definitely a weird and unfamiliar feeling, having something inside you — but it somehow soothes the frustration in your chest. ajax’s gaze flickers up to your face now, watching the jaw-slackened expression that becomes more pronounced as he eases his finger further in, until it’s settled up to the knuckle.
“all these years — all this time that i did everything for you,” he continues, drinking in your little whimpers as he starts to pump his finger into you, slow and thorough. “and you were going to give your first to some jackass you’ve never even met before?”
emotions that you can’t fully decipher well up in your chest, a dizzy and patchy dawning at his words. ajax, who had always done everything for you. ajax, who had wanted every group project to be just the two of you. ajax, who was your first friend, your first kiss. ajax, who never wanted you to bring anyone home — who now refuses to tear his gaze from your face, like he’s willing an epiphany out of you.
“ajax,” you hiccup out, your hand reaching out to grip his wrist. “can — can we — can you slow down so — we can talk?”
“talk? sure, angel.” his finger presses up into the top of your walls, and you moan thinly. “let’s talk about why you shouldn’t go on that date with nice, smart, cute albedo tomorrow.”
a rough gasp rips out from your throat as he squeezes another finger into you, the stretch catching you off-guard; you tense, but ajax’s hand moves to press down lightly on your stomach, giving you this weird sense of groundedness.
“is it enough to say that he doesn’t know you well enough? that he doesn’t know you hate fancy, over-the-top restaurants like the one he was going to take you to, or that you’re always worried about the commute to downtown?” he’s speaking over your noises now, his fingers resuming their steady strokes — more deliberate now, digits dragging against your warm walls. his thumb stretches, dragging circles over your clit, and you’d be writhing at this point if not for the weight of his palm just under your navel. “or would it convince you if i said i don’t think he’d treat you right, the way you deserve? if i said he wouldn’t touch you right, fuck you right — would you cancel?”
“a—jax…” you choke out, tears welling in your eyes; the pleasure’s weird and tingly and so good, building up in your stomach and stretching to your fingertips and toes. “please, can we…?”
“if not any of that,” he murmurs, the movement of his fingers growing a little more forceful, a little heavier. you sob, squeezing at his wrist but making no real move to push him away; in fact, you’re pretty sure you’re keeping him there. “if i said the guy who deserves to see you like this should be me — only me — would you forget about him, angel?”
“som— something’s coming,” you whimper out, barely audible over the lewd noises his fingers make as they plunge into your warmth and wetness. “please, could you — s—slow down— just a little?”
“slow down? you pussy’s sucking me in so hard that i’m not even sure i can, baby.” the pressure ajax’s hand exerts on your stomach doubles, until you feel completely trapped under his hold. “s’okay. let it all out. don’t be scared; it just means i’m making you feel really good.”
a cry tears from your chest as he pumps his fingers in, rough and deep, and you feel your body lose control; in that moment, you tense, almost folding into yourself, and a rush of your juices sprays out of you, ajax coaxing it out for a little longer until you fall back onto the bed with a half-strangled moan. at least he has the decency to slow down after that, pulling his fingers out to rub your drenched folds like he’s offering some kind of weak consolation.
the ceiling above you starts to sharpen into focus as the tears that welled up out of pleasure drip down past your waterline. ajax’s fingers are stil busy, although the hand on your stomach has moved up again, fondling your breast with light, gentle squeezes.
you smack his arm, and he freezes, watching you sit up; it’s kind of comical, the fact that you’re still shaking a little post-orgasm, and he’s still making sure he’s got his hands on some part of you, despite the fact that you look a little miffed.
“are you fucking serious?”
“what? it’s totally normal to squirt. in fact, it’s actually really hot to me, personally…”
“not that! what were you even going on about this whole time? was there any other normal way you could’ve said what you said?”
“i thought the way i said it was pretty normal.” he shrugs. “why don’t you tell me when else i would’ve found the time and opportunity to tell you how i felt?”
“you didn’t have to be knuckle-deep inside me to do it!”
“agree to disagree. also, it can’t actually be my fault that you never knew. i’ve been clear about it from the beginning.”
you try to shake him off, but his grip on your waist’s like iron, and it results in a thirty-second struggle where you’re flailing your arms weakly and he’s trying to position himself comfortably in front of you. you stop, however, when ajax, now kneeling between your thighs, leans down, dropping his head onto your shoulder and giving the curve of it a light, almost imperceptible kiss.
“i’m sorry,” he says, sounding genuine this time. “i just… a part of me never wanted to tell you in case you hated me after it. if you said no… i don’t know what i’d do, to be honest.”
“i could never hate you,” you mumble, your cheeks a little flushed. you’ve never really had heart-to-heart talks with ajax before this, and you kind of feel like post-foreplay is an even weirder time to start, but you suppose you can’t blame him for the less than ideal timing.
“i thought i’d be okay, even if you never found out. if you did know, and you were just stringing me along… i’d let you, anyway. but then — god, if i think about someone else seeing you like this…”
you actually feel him shudder after, and your hand instinctively flies to the back of his head, threading into his hair.
“it fucking drives me crazy.” his voice is shaky, barely controlled. “i can’t. i can’t let anyone else have you.”
there’s a period of quiet where you can only hear ajax’s heavy breathing, and you sit there with your hands scritching against his scalp lightly, your own head fuzzy. you should probably be thinking over what he’d just said, and you sure as hell try to, but you draw a complete blank. maybe some tiny part of you had always thought there was a possibility that he viewed you as more than just a friend, but that small voice had been ultimately overwhelmed by a seemingly more rational one that insisted there was just no way.
“since…” you finally manage out, your words soft. “since when?”
“god, i don’t know. maybe i realized it some time in freshman year, but,” he lets out an amused exhale. “i’ve always liked you. since pre-school, even, which i know sounds stupid. ever since you did that show and tell with the glitter art kit your mom got you for christmas. then i thought i’d never see you again, and it killed me, which is crazy because it was a silly little kindergarten crush, and i really thought i’d forget about you, but you fucking came back. that first day you transferred in — god. i couldn’t believe you came back to me.”
you feel the minute turn of his head, and his lips are sealed against the crook of your neck. a warm puff of breath, and then another kiss, followed by another, firmer and sloppier, and another—
“ajax—”
“please,” he whispers, begs between searing kisses to your skin. his hands resume motion, skimming your sides and following the contour of them repeatedly; when they drag upward, his thumbs extend, grazing the underside of your breasts. “please.”
and you’re not even sure you know exactly what he’s asking for, but the almost broken way he asks makes you want to give it to him, whatever that may be. a light tug on his hair, and he’s lifting his face, meeting your eyes with a dazed sort of look.
you’re the one who initiates this kiss, soft and a little unsure, but ajax is quick to take the lead, fitting his mouth full against yours once you give him the in. his hands settle fully on your hips, giving them a firm squeeze and pulling you closer, until you’re flush against him. he licks his way into your mouth methodically, like he’s trying to make sure every tooth, every tastebud ends up tasting of him. and it does — the richness of him reaches the back of your throat, has you feeling dizzy and a little vulnerable.
you inhale sharply as he pulls away, cool air filling your lungs and your lips slick and swollen again, and even though there’s no reason for you to keep your mouth open, it stays that way anyway as ajax tugs his sweater over his head in a swift, clean motion, tossing it behind him carelessly. you’re face to face with his lean body, wired full with taut muscle, and now you actually feel like a hormonal teen perceiving the opposite sex for the first time. sure, you’ve seen glimpses of it when he runs from the bathroom to his bedroom after a shower or when he lifts the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his brow while he cooks, but having it on full display is a completely different story.
you clamp your jaw shut when he coughs, and your eyes snap up to his face, daring that slightly amused expression to say something. “what? i can’t look?”
“no, no, look. look as much as you want. please.” he grabs your hand, tugging it closer to his abdomen and letting the tips of your fingers graze the clear ridges there. “touch all you want too. you know this is all for you, right?”
“you don’t have to be weird about it,” you mumble, but the invitation is all you need. gently, your palm rests against his stomach, and you feel it sink in a little as he breathes in and shudders at your touch. you’ve probably just been turning a blind eye to it out of principle, but even objectively, you know that ajax is attractive; he has the face of a sweetheart and the body of a seasoned athlete, and now you can fully appreciate that fact. he watches you carefully, staying perfectly still, as you explore the planes of his torso little by little, dragging your fingers against smooth skin. you only stop at the waistband of his sweatpants, drawing your hand back — or you would have, anyway, if he hadn’t caught it first.
“you getting shy on me after touching me all sexy like that?”
“can you,” you hiss, trying to wrench your wrist out of his grip. “try to be normal about this?”
“you’re the one being abnormal,” he frowns, tugging your hand closer to his form again. the tips of your fingers brush against the drawstrings. “or are you planning on backing out?”
“no.” you can’t help but notice that it comes out way too quickly for your liking. “who’s backing out?”
he doesn’t say anything in response, save for a little huff of a laugh that tapers out into nothing when your fingers return to his waistband. now that you’re concentrating, you can see there’s a tent in the front of his sweats, and you’d rather die than make a comment about it, but it does seem sizable enough that it piques your curiosity. your fingers hook into the garter, and ajax shifts slightly closer as you tug down, the fabric getting caught in the anomaly for a split second before it stretches free and pools around his folded knees.
“i did that,” you mutter. “do the boxers yourself.”
if he finds your evident back and forth with your own confidence grating, he doesn’t let it show. in fact, he seems all too eager to comply, standing up to let his sweats drop to his ankles and wasting no time in letting his boxers join them, toeing them aside cleanly.
you don’t have any personal reference for what’s normal or what’s excessive, but you know for a fact you aren’t underwhelmed, to say the least. you try really hard not to, but it feels like you can’t stop yourself from gawking a little — how can you not when ajax is standing at the foot of your bed, fully hard and kind of… big? the worst part is that he doesn’t even look concerned about being so bare in front of you; he seems to be assessing your reaction instead, eyes intently focused on every change in your expression.
when you don’t say anything, he sighs. “i don’t expect you to overact or anything, but could you at least give me a sign that you’re still in the world of the living with me?”
“sorry.” your apology comes out high and reedy. “it’s just — you know this is my first time.”
“you know this is mine too, right?”
and it hadn’t dawned on you before, but now you feel completely stupid for not even considering that. ajax had seemed so sure of himself, and he’d brought you to climax once already, so it had been all to easy to assume he’d been experienced. but now that you think about it, there’s been little to no opportunity for him to have fucked anyone else, given that he’d spent most of his time with you.
and now you know why.
“right, sorry,” you breathe out. “could’ve fooled me, though. you don’t look nervous at all.”
“to be fair, i’m really not.” his lips quirk upward slightly. “i mean, no offense, but i’ve been waiting to get to this point with you for what feels like forever.”
“you didn’t have to — like, there were other girls you could’ve—”
“we really need to work on your listening skills.” leaning down, he cups your chin, thumb grazing your bottom lip before he leaves a suspiciously chaste kiss against it. “it’s you or no one.”
he presses a series of soft, light pecks against and around your mouth, and in the midst of all that, your posture untenses, with you slowly melting into his touch. when he straightens back up, you’re back in that now-familiar heady state of having your breath stolen just a little. his palm still stays, your chin resting on it, and you look up to meet the hunger in his gaze.
“tell me,” you whisper, and his eyebrows lift slightly, drinking in your every word. “how do i give myself to you, ajax?”
the exhale he lets out is broken and shaky, and for a moment, his grip on your chin tightens. strangely, it doesn’t feel dangerous or wrong; if anything, it causes you to focus on him just a little more. his thumb comes out again, this time tracing the shape of your half-open lips, following the rise and dip of your cupid’s bow before it stops at the corner.
“think you can use your mouth on me, angel? just for a little while. i just,” he breathes in deeply, like he’s trying to center himself. “just want to see what you’d look like. would you let me?”
you nod, and he smiles tightly, although not unpleasantly. gently releasing your chin, he steps back once, watching you shift yourself until you’re on your knees at the edge of the bed, sitting down on your calves. you’re basically at eye level with his cock now, and now that your focus is on it, you can’t help but feel a little intimidated at the sheer size of it.
“i don’t know how to — um,” you say lamely, tucking your hair behind your ear in some weak attempt to feel ready. “it might not… be good.”
“don’t even worry about that,” he replies, though his voice sounds a little choked. “trust me. just do… whatever feels right.”
you let out a soft ‘okay,’ and your hands come up, wrapping around the base of his shaft to angle him towards you a little more. you start a little when you hear a sharp intake of breath from him, but he quickly follows it up with “don’t freak. it’s fine, really.”
the tip of it glistens with a few beads, clear and viscous — precome, you realize, seeping out of the head. a light squeeze of his cock has a bit more dribbling out, and it strangely fascinates you. you wonder what it tastes like — what ajax tastes like when he’s turned on, how new it would feel on your tongue. without much forethought, you lean in, letting your tongue peek out to sweep the liquid away.
his reaction is instantaneous — a soft hiss, the tensing of his thighs. you can see his hands have formed fists at his sides, and his knuckles are white. when you look up at him, you see his jaw is tight, and his eyes are dark, heavy-lidded.
careful not to disrupt whatever state he’s in, you move in, pressing the flat of your tongue against the side of his cock. the taste of him here is different than his precome — less salty, much fainter. you drag your tongue slowly along his shaft, wondering if that’ll intensify the taste, but it doesn’t really work out that way, so once you get to the tip, you lap up the liquid again, humming as the odd flavor of it bursts in your senses. you like it best there, you decide, and you focus your tongue’s efforts on the head, enjoying the way his cock seems just as eager to release it with every swipe and circle.
you’re so focused on exploring that you don’t immediately notice that ajax isn’t quiet anymore. a particularly harsh “fuck” has you snapping out of it, and his hands sink into your hair, tugging your head back slightly in the process. you gaze up at him, tongue still partway out and dripping with his pre, and he looks back at you, half-crazed.
“shit. first time using your mouth, and you’re acting like this?”
“was it… not good?”
“fuck no. it felt amazing. makes me think you were born for this,” he breathes out. “listen — let me feel your mouth too, okay? open up for me just a little — atta girl…”
he groans out something incomprehensible as you let your jaw fall open to an approximation of his size. his hands replace yours at the base of his cock, steadying his shaft as he angles the tip towards your waiting mouth. with care you don’t expect from his tense posture, he slips the head past your lips, letting out a low noise as it settles against your teeth and tongue.
“fucking — god, look at you. are you kidding me?” his hands tighten in your hair, and you hum; his cock kicks a little in your mouth from the vibration alone. “this is even better than i’ve always imagined. you’ll let me move now, won’t you, baby?”
you nod, and he swears under his breath once again as his hips roll forward, a slow, smooth motion that pushes his cock another couple of inches into your mouth. you realize this is even better than licking at him; the taste of him completely fills your mouth, and the rush of his precum drips straight onto your tongue and down your throat. even his reaction is better; his gaze is wilder, more alert, and there’s a flush across his chest that makes you feel strangely proud to see. ajax takes his time, rolling forward at a languid pace that almost lulls you into a gentle stupor. you don’t even know why just this makes you feel good, but maybe it’s the sounds he’s making that make this all worth it.
“god, i knew your mouth would be this good. always dreamt about fucking it, and now i actually get to. you drive me crazy, you know that?” as if to make his point, he makes a particularly thorough roll of his hips, and just a little more of his shaft slips in, the tip now more than halfway across your tongue. “think you’ll be able to take it all?”
you shake your head meekly, and he chuckles.
“s’okay. we’ll take it slow. i’ve got all the time in the world to train that pretty throat of yours for my cock.”
you whimper, thighs pressing together; you’ve never heard him speak like this, and you can’t deny that it affects you a little too much. your eyelids flutter shut, and you focus instead on your other senses — the drag of his cock against the inside of your mouth, the low curses coming from ajax. you don’t know how long it lasts, but you can sense that growing throb against your tongue, becoming a little more insistent with each stroke. you think maybe, just maybe…
your eyes fly open as he draws back completely, your mouth empty all in one go. you breathe in a lungful of cold air before making a noise of protest. “why did you—?”
“i was ten seconds away from cumming,” he says breathily.
“so? did you… not want to?”
“not in your mouth.” when the look of confusion doesn’t leave your face, he laughs, though the way he smooths your hair back is so tender that you feel the weird urge to purr. “don’t get me wrong — it would’ve been hot, and i seriously thought about it. but i’m not going to bust a load like that when i haven’t even had a chance to fuck you properly.”
he swoops in for another firm kiss that catches you off guard, cradling your face as he guides you to lie back. you realize belatedly that ajax has a weird talent for being able to maneuver you without you really noticing — in the next moment, he has you in the same position as earlier, your legs spread to allow him the space to fit himself between them. only this time, his body’s just about as bare as yours, and you’re keenly aware of the way his cock brushes against your cunt as he inches in to close the gap between the two of you.
“you still feeling okay?” he asks when he breaks the kiss. you nod, and a smile quirks the corners of his lips upward. “good girl. let me have a look at you again, hm?”
your legs fall apart just a little more as he straightens up, like you’re offering the view of yourself to him; he takes it all in with an appreciative hum, and when he glances at your face for a split second, you notice his pupils are slightly blown. slick sounds fill the room as he strokes himself a few times, and you try desperately not to moan when he taps his cock against your folds, the shaft coming away with sticky lines of your juices.
you’re not as surreptitious as you think you are, though, because he says, “you don’t have to hold back on me, you know.”
“it’s fucking embarrassing,” you whine, although even that morphs into a mewl when he does the audacious thing of dragging his cock along your slit. “and you’re not helping.”
“oh, sorry.” something wicked creeps into his stupid little grin. “you saying you want me to stop?”
you’d rather die than have him stop now, but you don’t have to make that known to him. anyway, it doesn’t matter in the end; even if you want to say something, it dies in your throat the moment he pulls his hips back for another long grind against your folds — only this time, the tip catches against your entrance, and you flutter in desperation. your hips roll upward before you can even make sense of what you want, and ajax just looks pleased.
“yeah, i figured as much. was gonna see if you’d be willing to beg for it now, but you don’t even have to do that, do you?” his hands dig into the plush flesh of your waist, squeezing a little bit of the air out of your lungs. “pretty body’s telling me how bad you want it, loud and clear.”
you kind of wish he’d stop talking because it’s doing something to you, something like heat coursing through your veins and making you hypersensitive to even just the chill breeze from the air conditioning. but at the same time, there’s a large part of you that’s curious about what’s going on in his head; he seems infinitely more candid now than he’s ever been, and you wonder just how much of this is lining up with his fantasies.
another drag of his cock against your slit wrings a moan out of you, and your hand jerks out, nails digging into his chest. he doesn’t even flinch. “stop — stop teasing me already.”
his hips slow to a stop, and one hand leaves your waist, returning to wrap around his shaft. angling himself a little lower, he lines his tip up with your entrance, the soft curve of it bumping against the rim. his eyes flicker to you at the last second, and you’re ready to grab him by the ear for stopping again until he says, “it might hurt. you gotta tell me — you know, if it’s too much, or if you want me to stop. i’m serious.”
you nod, murmuring a quiet, ‘i will,’ but the deeper dig of your nails into his skin urges him forward.
tension locks your body as he pushes in slowly, the tip breaching your tightness. there’s an intense concentration on ajax’s face, his brow all furrowed, as he tries to battle the seemingly impossible fit. your walls ache at the drag, the stretch, and he’s barely in before he’s pushed out.
“shit,” he mumbles under his breath. “fucking tight.”
“m’sorry,” you whisper, mortified. “i didn’t mean to—”
“no, no — i didn’t mean it like that. just—” he exhales sharply, the thumb that’s still on your waist rubbing light circles. “it’s fucking hot. let me try again, okay? just relax for me.”
he waits for your assent before he resumes his efforts, and this time, you try not to work your body up to the point of rejecting him. it’s still a tight, uncoordinated endeavor, but he manages to slip in about halfway, at which point your body seems to at least be accepting that he’s there. it doesn’t hurt in the way you expect — there’s a slight discomfort, a dull soreness that gets easier to ignore as the seconds tick by. ajax stills like that for a while, and you realize he’s allowing you to get adjusted to his size before pressing on.
“how— uh, how is it?” he asks, his words a little thin and strained. “feel okay?”
“mhm,” you manage out, before realizing you’re not giving him much to work with. “doesn’t hurt much, i promise. you?”
“honestly?” he huffs out a laugh. “was really scared i’d fucking cum right then and there.”
you laugh, and the lingering tension in your form melts; you notice the same is true for him, and he even has the energy to look a little sheepish. “what was all that about fucking me properly then?”
“i’ll make good on it, trust me.” his hands return to your waist, pushing your shirt upward again to stop at your ribs.
“then don’t stop now,” you urge quietly.
he blows out a sharp breath before his grip’s tightening on your sides again, and he sinks further into you. your moans harmonize the moment he bottoms out, and you marvel at how strangely right it feels to have him in you, despite the fact that you feel so full you’re pretty sure he’s in your stomach, or something.
ajax isn’t all too composed, either; he’s breathing heavily like he’s trying to calm himself down, but the flush has spread from his chest to his neck and cheeks, making him look even more heated.
“you gonna cum?” you half-joke, although saying that out loud has you squeezing around him without warning, causing him to hiss.
“no way. no fucking way,” he says with a kind of resolution that seems almost baseless. “if i could just—”
he draws his hips a few inches back, inhales deeply, then pushes back in. the result is a low groan from him and a high, reedy mewl from you, the foreignness of something dragging against your insides feeling both odd and good. but maybe that sound is all he needs from you, because at the next moment, he’s setting a slow, steady pace, pumping into you smoothly.
the tightness is still there, but less pronounced, and the more he does it, the more the pleasure builds — a light tickle at your senses at first, but slowly growing into something more insistent. you’re not sure if you’re supposed to be able to tell if ajax is inexperienced, because it really doesn’t seem like it. the controlled movement, the perfect pressure against your insides — it seems like he’s doing everything in his power to keep himself in check and make you feel good. amid the slight haze of pleasure, you fixate on his face as a grounding point, noticing the tightness in his jaw, the slight frown on his lips.
“ajax, it’s okay,” you whisper, breaking him out of the focused trance he’d fallen into. “it doesn’t hurt. you can… you don’t have to hold back.”
“i can’t,” he murmurs, almost sounding mournful. “you don’t know how good it feels — how much i want to—”
“then do it,” you cut him off, both hands coming up to cup his face, keeping his gaze fixed on you. when he doesn’t respond, you add, “i want you to. please.”
you can almost hear the way the gears in his head click and whirr before they simply implode. with a soft growl, he buries his face into your shoulder, his teeth sinking into fabric against skin. he draws his hips back fully, then snaps them forward, burying himself back into you fully, and you squeal, your arms winding around his neck for some semblance of stability.
“that’s — that’s it,” you whimper, nails biting into the skin of his shoulder blades. “g—gave myself to you, remember? so just take as much as you want.”
“fuck— fuck,” he swears, muffled against your shirt. he does the same thing again, pulls almost all the way out before hitting home again, and again, and again, until you’re caught in a cycle of short gasps and cries. “don’t you dare say that without meaning it. gonna fuck this pussy until it’s all mine, understand?”
he probably feels you nod against the side of his head, which is good because you can’t seem to say anything coherent. his pace becomes rougher, the strokes more deliberate and forceful, and you feel yourself pressing deeper into the mattress, caught deliciously under his weight. at the angle, the depth he’s fucking into you, you’re pretty sure you can almost taste him on your tongue. or maybe it’s just that you’re enveloped in him, his scent across your skin, his warmth kissing every part of you.
“god, you feel amazing,” he babbles on, taking only a moment to let his tongue swipe out at your neck. “pussy’s taking me so well, like it was made for me. is that what you’ve been saving yourself for, huh? waited for me to take this pretty cunt all for myself?”
you can’t trust yourself to respond, so you let out a garbled hum that sounds suspiciously like his name. not that it phases him — if anything, it seems like it just adds fuel to the fire, his next thrust into you rattling you from head to toe.
“yeah, that’s right. you were made for me, angel. look at you — so fucking tight just for me. so. fucking. good,” he growls, the last three syllables a blueprint for his sharp thrusts.
your head’s fallen into a blurry haze, and you think it should be scary in any other instance, but with ajax here to ground you, it just feels right; you sink into it willingly, and you can’t even bring yourself to feel conscious about all the lewd noises you’re making. his voice is all you can hear, settling into your ears, into your bones.
“can’t pull out — your pussy’s gripping me so tight that i can’t. and i don’t fucking want to.” you whimper when you feel his teeth dig into your earlobe. “know what that means, baby? tell me. i wanna hear it from you.”
you really shouldn’t. it’d be reckless and risky, and you don’t have any countermeasures for it on hand. logic dictates that you muster up enough rationality to tell him you don’t want him to — except you kind of do, and with the way he’s practically rearranging your insides, you kind of want to give it to him too.
just this once, your irrational mind reasons with you. next time will be different.
and then you shiver with pleasure at the realization that you’re already planning a next time with ajax.
“cum inside me,” you whimper out. he swears softly before pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the crook of your neck.
“one more, angel,” he pleads, sounding almost broken. “say it one more time.”
“want you to cum inside me,” you breathe out, tensing around him as you feel his hips grow rougher, more erratic, and your pleasure spikes suddenly. “fill me up — please, ajax?”
his pace stutters, freezes, then revives in a frenzy of quick, shallow thrusts, and warmth suddenly fills you. you know what it is, and you expect him to stop to ride out his high, but he continues to move, and you feel his cum slip deeper into you. it adds both a stickiness and a slipperiness to his movements that makes the friction exponentially more delicious, and you barely whine out something unintelligible before you’re coming undone for the second time tonight, your thighs closing in and pressing into his sides.
finally, he slows, tapering his strokes gradually, but though they become intermittent, they regain their thoroughness — like even in the wake of his climax, he’s still focused on pushing as much of his cum into you as he can before his exhaustion wins out.
and it does soon after, his hips stilling with one final thrust into you that has you keening softly. he doesn’t lift his head, seemingly content to just inhale your scent from against your shoulder. you stay like that for god knows how long, listening to each other’s breathing even out and soften. at one point, you squirm a little, just to check if everything’s still good below the waist, and you feel his cock kick weakly.
it’s the trill of your phone that breaks you out of your stupor. you mumble into ajax’s ear about giving you some room, but he makes a noise of dissent that has you rolling your eyes, so you just pat blindly around for your phone until your hand closes around it. it’s hard to manipulate your screen considering you’ve got a body lying on you that you have to work around, but you manage to open the tinder app to albedo’s messages — the one from earlier about the restaurant that you hadn’t replied to, and another one from just now, saying that he’d made a reservation.
“it’s albedo,” you say, growing amused when ajax grunts into your shirt. “he made a reservation.”
“yeah, well, i hope it’s for one.” he finally lifts his head, and you’re struck with the thought that he looks adorable with his hair flattened and falling into his eyes. “don’t tell me you’re still going?”
“oh, yeah, i totally still want to see him,” you say dryly, though the sarcasm doesn’t seem to sink into ajax; he frowns so deeply you have to smoothen out the lines on his forehead. “after i just let this other guy who confessed to me in the craziest way cum in me. can you be serious?”
“cancel the date,” he demands, and you want to laugh at how childish his tone is; a little bit of it slips out when he pouts. “i’m not kidding. tell him you have a boyfriend.”
you don’t go that far, but you do cancel on albedo, citing a sudden unavoidable event (not a total lie); ajax watches with hawk eyes as you draft the message and double checks that you sent it to him.
“do i though?” you ask after a thoughtful pause. ajax has already settled back down onto you, refusing to pull out and growing more and more like dead weight against your chest. “have a boyfriend, that is.”
he’s quiet for a while, and you might’ve thought he’d dozed off if not for the unevenness in his breathing.
“i mean, if you’ll have me.” you’ve never heard him sound unsure before, and it somehow softens you.
“you know, back when i was in pre-school, there was this kid i was friends with that didn’t want summer vacation to come. he said it was because he didn’t want to make any new friends, so i promised him we’d find a way to stay friends even after that. what was it that i said…?”
he chuckles softly. “i think you said we’d be together forever.”
“right,” you snap your fingers like you’ve had an epiphany. “i promised him we’d be together forever. so i guess i have to make good on that promise, right?”
“that’s a cute story and all, angel, but i still want to hear it in black and white.” you can feel the grin playing on his lips against your skin.
“why don’t you look me in the eye first?”
he lifts his head, and for a moment, you just drink in his features — the deep, blue eyes that have always watched you, the soft lips that waited years just to kiss you. your fingers trace the side of his face, and he leans into your touch, closing his eyes as you murmur your answer.
info: a promise from the age of 11 turns into an on demand job for childe to keep your heart to himself. college au! childe x reader
warnings: ajax is being a menace, chaos confirmed, slight mention of scaramouche (he was a bad date because childe paid him to be…)
a/n: late night chaos, very unedited! i hope you enjoy what an odd idea i came up with! i had a lot of fun writing it and i kinna want to make it a series with other characters and how they would chaotically ruin dates to keep you to themselves after this one lol
another date goes by and you feel as if the guy that ajax has set you up with is rather… dry. it was as if there was something going through his mind that said, “y/n, this is not the man of your dreams — i am!” originally, that’s what you had hoped tartaglia would say. alas, he was too much of a mystery for you to comprehend exactly how you felt and what exactly he was to you. it was very different from what you wanted him to be currently after seeing how many dates went so wrong that were his ideas.
for being childhood best friends, the day that you two grew apart had steadily grown — as if a piece of brittle glass was to be thrown soon, ending this facade you two had called a friendship. perhaps, he had just wanted you to fail in the relationship department.
this other guy didn’t even pay! he expected you to pay the whole thing, some kind of boyfriend material he was. his name was scaramouche, purple hair and he definitely seemed like the type to listen to my chemical romance with the outfit he had on. which made you wonder, what did tartaglia see between the two of you when you were both so different??? you sighed as you ran a hand through your hair, wishing that the night would get better.
“ajax, can you answer your phone? i’m not mad, i just need a friend…” you whined at his voicemail, the voices from around the restaurant could be heard. scaramouche left you alone after realizing that he spent enough time trying to figure you out for his liking. of course in his head, he knew. ajax’s threats to fight wasn’t worth picking up a beauty such as yourself for.
after a while, ajax finally picked up the phone before he could hear your quiet sobs. “y/n? are you okay?” he mumbled into the phone, he sounded almost sleepy before listening to your rant further about scaramouche — he would have to pay the male double after that stunt before scolding him for making tartaglia’s special y/n cry.
“n-no… he just left and he didn’t even grab the bill! why do the men you send me always suck… maybe, i should try a matchmaking site.” you pouted a bit more before continuing on, “can i come over and hang out for a bit? why can’t these men ever be more like you…” you sighed out before he replied with a quick yes and hanging up abruptly — probably to clean his apartment.
he was jumping for joy in his room instead of your innocent little thoughts. at the moment, he couldn’t help himself. the person of his dreams was still available. he scheduled it on the right day as well considering it had been his birthday. he couldn’t help himself before opening his door, y/n came so quickly. “oh. you’re not y/n…” he frowned with a huff before rolling his eyes, “here’s the money, mooch.” he slyly insulted the shorter male before shooing him off, shutting the door on his face. he was lucky to be on the other side of that door and not with scaramouche’s wrath.
all he could hear was screaming and banging until it eventually was drowned out by cleaning and his “old school music” as he liked to call it from back when he lived in snezhnaya, before moving away for college. it was such a gift to have you stay with him — even throughout college, your parents and his were happy to know that you guys had each other. he then heard scaramouche talking to somebody, oh no… he had rushed so quickly to open that door to see his beloved y/n, her heart had been broken yet again.
“ajax… did you set me up with him only to keep me to yourself?” cue a smirking scaramouche, quite the payback indeed to this man who thought that he could control him of all people. your anger died down before laughing a bit at the realization. “have you been gatekeeping me? even with all of the years passing by with that silly childhood-”
he immediately cut you off at your next sentence before holding your face with both of his hands, “it was never silly to me.” most would imagine a movie ending for the start of their relationships in college, yours was rather confusing as he just confessed himself outrightly. at this point, scaramouche left the site since he realized he was gonna throw up in his mouth. “i wanted to be with you since before we made that promise in middle school and i wanted nothing more than to tell you but i needed to make sure you wanted me too.” he was twenty one now, on his own birthday — he set you up with a friend to know for sure that you would be single.
he stared so lovingly into your eyes, his ocean blue eyes that could relax you in a moment’s notice. he looked at how your pupils widened and so did his before realizing the music in the background wasn’t suited for this. he then grabbed you by the belt loop of your jeans before you yelped a bit. was this the part where you make out on the couch with him? his apartment was relatively clean by now and his roommates were gone. it had been like they know who was coming over and how tartaglia fixed himself from an overwhelming amount of embarrassment from how cliche he felt in this moment.
you knew this was a bit too sudden before staring into those eyes again. the eyes that wanted you to grow old with and yell at the kids who would eventually play on your lawns. the ocean that your eventual life would lead you to and the life that you had been yearning for. for ages now, every day until you've turned 21, you knew this was going to be the outcome or else why make such a silly promise? that was what tartaglia had thought as well as he leaned in slowly, adjusting you so that you were comfortable as well.
"y/n, may i finally do what i've been waiting for? these ten years have been long enough at the very least." he had to wait for your signal, he wanted to make sure you were comfortable with it. the moment that he had been dreaming of, finally coming true. he already asked for your parents' blessing to take your hand in his when you both made it to high school. although you had given up due to his popularity with the ladies, he had his eyes set only on you. that did not change during college either when you both moved away to liyue university. that's why his logic had been so backwards with setting you up on dates.
you nodded at his words after some thought, letting him capture your lips. you could feel yourself soften as if nothing had mattered in this moment. you had been a bit petty beforehand with him paying his friend to make sure you stayed single until he was twenty one, but the peace you felt now was surreal. needlessly chasing for love to hide from the truth of it all, that you both wanted each other endlessly. you couldn't help staying like that and kissing for a while while you were tangled up in each other's embrace.
he kept you steady on top while he wrapped his hands around your waist as he pulled back with a small but triumph smile. he spoke up again with a bit of a teasing tone, "you know since it's my birthday, i do deserve a nice gift." you had to roll your eyes before he kept thinking of ideas and had the gall to list off, "i wouldn't mind another kiss or perhaps if you want to check off more lists of firsts, there are those two. the house is free for the next few hours-"
he hadn't expected his face to be smacked with a pillow that was on the couch as you huffed before shaking your head, "you didn't even ask me to be your partner. why are you expecting head?"
he had to laugh loudly before shaking his head as he moved you off of him but still sitting on the couch. he decided to yet again be the dramatic and teasing male that he always has been since such a young age. he knelt down as he looked up towards you while taking your hand, "y/n, will you do me the honor of being my partner? this is what i meant by firsts... not that i'm opposed to your idea but only when you're ready. after all, i am a man of patience. i'm just glad you finally understood why i kept rejecting everybody else."
"and here i thought you weren't gonna be a gentleman. of course, ajax. i'll gladly take the honors." he kissed your hand as he smiled while moving up your arm with each kiss. perhaps in a way to make up for the lost years of being a couple. he wouldn't make that mistake again as he sat next to you again before pulling you into his tight embrace, afraid of letting go of this beautiful moment.
"y/n, i'm so glad. i will never let another person hurt you again... you will always be safe here with me and in my arms." you both leaned into each other tightly, wanting nothing more than to let this moment last. he kept drawing circles on your back as you rested on top of him, your assignments could wait until tomorrow. after all, there's only one time you get your firsts with the man of your dreams.
we need to bring back old school tumblr communication and im so serious. sending an ask to a mutual just to say hello. seeing three different asks in your inbox all asking how your dentist appointment went. seeing a post you think one of your mutuals would enjoy and tagging them/sending it to them in the dms. nowadays its just silently liking a post or (if youre feeling extreme) replying under posts. WHAT HAPPENED TO US!! we used to be a proper community!!!! #LetsBringWhimsyBack
ok request no 1: mydei x reader (fem or neutral) where like mydei and y/n are basically together (mydei lowkey doesn't know how to say it normally) until one day he just kinna gets fed up by a comment by somebody else (i'm assuming phainon would say something small to make him get all competitive but that was phainon's plan all along lol or whatever u decide for that) and confesses one day while y/n's braiding his hair and s-tier yapping
໒⦂ 𝐑𝐔𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇.
notes. hi pook mb for the delays, tomodachi life and school took over💔 they got me fighting for my life already dawg istg but anyway — here is mydei! i’m still quite new to writing his character so i hope he alr..
genre. fluff + slice of life + comfort
mydei x gn!reader.
the prince of castrum kremnos had enough.
he’d long since lost track of the days spent courting you, having grown comfortable to your shared dynamic. you dedicated your time to him, ate his cooking, braided his hair when he was stressed, listened to his rambles and rants whenever something plagued him, and likewise — he did the same for you.
it became so deeply integrated into his norm, things having happened to naturally between the both of you that labeling became.. more or less an afterthought.
at least, it had for mydei.
it was clear that you were more than friends; friends didn’t kiss or bare themselves so vulnerability to another person — mind and body, that much was true. his words were also softer when it came to you, carefully selected and lacking the usual cutthroat language that he had grown accustomed to speaking with. it was with these details that things were.. unique, between the two of you.
so then by the logic that you had his trust and knew him well, was it not clear that you were together?
apparently not.
it was during an outing at marmoreal market that your relationship was.. tested, to say the least.
not in a way where you could have been torn apart, or anything extreme like that. but, well.. it was something to leave food for thought.
“oh mydei, this would look so pretty as a centerpiece back home, wouldn’t it?” you questioned, holding up a beautifully decorated amphora with a bright smile gracing your lips. “i know it’s just pottery," something commonly found and made here on amphoreus. "but the pattern would pair so nicely with the tablecloth we just bought, don’t you think?”
turning away from the weaponry that had briefly caught his eye, the strawberry blond brought his attention to the clay creation in your hands, examining the piece with careful consideration. it looked well made, that much was certain, the print indeed fitting quite well with the fabric folded neatly in your basket of goods. all in all, it wouldn't make such a terrible investment, albeit quite domestic for a man driven by strife.
even still, “it fits well, yeah.” he affirmed, tipping his head forward before taking the ceramic container from your hands. “don’t worry about carrying it while i’m here.” mydei then added, balancing the vase against his arm and chest to hand the merchant the necessary credits.
blunt as it was, your lips couldn’t help but twitch into a wider smile at his choice of words, unable to suppress your elation. he was awkward with how he worded things when it came to you, not quite knowing how to be sweet and romantic, but his actions made up for that.
letting out a soft laugh, you felt your cheeks warm a little, the corners of your eyes creasing. “thank you, love — i can always count on you and your strength.” you chuckled softly, basket swishing just slightly in your hand from having turned to walk to another stall. “where to next?”
feeling his own face burn, borderline the hues of the marks littering the planes of his body, the prince found himself looking away, awkwardly clearing his throat. “i’m here for you always, as you know.” he reminded you quietly, now holding the amphora with both hands, as to avoid any potential casualties. the last thing he needed was to drop and shatter the piece that you had wanted to decorate your shared abode with. “as for where to go.. i’m curious to see if the pomegranates are looking redder today.”
that got another laugh out of you, sweet and innocent, which he couldn’t help but allow his lips to curl just a little at. you were endearing, beautifully sweet and a blessing from the titans themselves, with a smile worthy of rivaling the sun above. truly, what would he be without you?
“right, of course.” you allowed your laughter to die down, wiping a tear. “let’s go check the produce for today, then, yeah? maybe they’ll have a deal, too.”
and just like that, you were strolling side by side up to the farmers selling the boon of their agriculture — fresh and vibrant.
mydei had to compose himself at the sight of his beloved fruit, reminding his eager self that he was still very much in public and that he had a face to upkeep. nothing on the scale of his fellow chrysos heirs, of course, but something to keep the people from talking about him in such a flowery or wholesome way.
he was a fighter first and foremost, after all.
placing down the amphora to pick out the pomegranates that appeared to be the most crimson, the kremnoan prince was about to extend his credits when a hand suddenly shot out to stop him. but, not just any — it was yours.
he blinked over at you in surprise, not quite having anticipated the intervention. typically, mydei took it upon himself to pay whenever you were out together — courting called for such, and he wanted to spoil you if he could.
so to find your hand intercepting and paying for his fruits along with the ones you were eyeing, it was.. odd, possibly even a little embarrassing on his end for not being quicker.
..but one look at your smile had him thinking that maybe it was okay, to allow this one instance to slide, if it meant you sharing such a look with him that made everything feel easy. as though nothing could possibly ruin such a moment.
or well, so he thought.
“y/n, mydei!! is that you? it's been so long!” came the gleeful voice belonging to none other than the embodiment of sunshine if it had to be personified — more commonly known as phainon.
there goes the peaceful, private outing.
“we saw each other yesterday.” the prince grunted out, stare flattening as it met with eyes the color of the sky. why did he have to be here now of all times? could it not have been while you weren’t around?
brushing off your partner’s words, the grin widened on your lips as you waved the snowy haired male towards you, letting out a small laugh. “phai! it definitely has been — well," you glanced at your partner briefly, rubbing your neck before returning your attention to the deliverer. "for us at least..” you added sheepishly, lowering your hand to join the one on your credit pouch. “getting produce as well?”
phainon let out a thoughtful hum at that, placing a finger at the corner of his lip. “i was actually just out for a walk, but i might get something since i’m here!” he chuckled, shifting his gaze between you both before bringing a hand to his hip. “let me guess, spoiling mydeimos here with pomegranates?” he prompted further, missing the rosy hue that stained the other’s cheeks.
just who did this guy think he was? showing up to a day out that was meant solely for you and him. it’s as if he wanted to start something that would lead to a fierce battle worthy of going on well after dusk. “that’s not it, they were just-”
the two seemed to turn to him in that exact instance, waiting for him to finish his sentence; phainon looking at him innocently, whereas your stare was.. unreadable. expectant, perhaps? curious, maybe? not angry or disappointed, but he got the slightest inkling that you were waiting to hear something from him.
sadly, he found himself unable to quite find the words to say what he had wanted to say.
and so, he turned away, picking up the amphora he had previously placed down to examine the fruits. “..nevermind.”
that was the end of it, as mydei almost shamefully took his leave, not quite wanting to linger any longer than needed around phainon. granted that guy was capable of bringing the best out of him, but he also brought out a.. more competitive, violent side out of him at the same time, and that wasn’t something he wanted to show off in front of you.
your dynamic was sweet, a break from all the strife — and he wanted such a safe space to remain untainted.
furthermore, his friend’s words sort of got to him, in a way. mostly because of his reaction, which almost sounded like he was rejecting what he had with you, which.. really wasn’t the case — not at all.
yet he was walking away from the scene, like the cowards that he often chided.
but in that moment, it had been better to do that than to allow himself to say something he would later regret — more than he had already said.
thankfully, the walk home did him well with sorting his thoughts. cooking had also assisted with clearing his head further, and before he knew it — you were back from marmoreal market, basket full.
part of him felt bad that you had to carry it all the way back on your own, but you had valued your independence as well. one of the things he admired was your initiative to display that, along with your own strength and sufficiency. it was commendable — even if he had wanted to do everything for you so that you wouldn’t have to.
lifting and lowering the kitchen knife in a repetitive motion, mydei fought to steal a glance from you, feeling his brows draw together. what should he say? was there anything that he could say?
you weren’t the type to get angry with him, unless he hadn’t pissed you off enough to find that out as yet.. but he worried he might have done it this time, or upset you in some way with his behavior back at the market. there were a plethora of responses he could have used instead that sounded less passive aggressive, and yet he chose for the worst one of all.
what an idiot, he was.
sliding the vegetables into the the pan, he braved a glance despite himself, watching as you assessed the fabric that had been in your basket and carefully tossed it over the table after clearing it. next would be the amphora he had brought back for you, and mydei selfishly wished that you would ask him to help, or at least fill the silence with something. you always had something to say any other time- why weren't you talking now?
did you not want to speak to him? it wasn't farfetched if you were upset with him, but still..
nudging the sliced-up meat in to sauté, mydei peered over at you a second time, pursing his lips together before deciding that clearing his throat was the best course of action.
by his philosophy.
“um, did you need help with that?”
putting down the pottery at the center of the table with a labored breath, you shook your head at the question, offering a meek smile. “it’s all done, don’t worry — wasn’t too hard, and besides- you’re cooking right now.” you supplied, returning to fish out the produce you had purchased. “i can handle putting everything away.”
there were plenty of words that mydei wanted to express in response to that, but everything fell silent on his tongue. ultimately, he opted for a slow nod, humming mostly to himself. “i see, well- if you need any help, you can ask me.” he tried offering, stirring the contents in the pan as a means of quieting the sizzles. “i don’t mind.”
blinking once and then twice, you smiled over at him, pomegranates in hands. “duly noted, i’ll holler if anything happens that calls for your attention.”
on any other day, mydei might have just nodded and carried on with preparing your food.. but he just couldn’t seem to let go or come to terms with you, for lack of better wording, not needing him.
it felt like he had let you down, somehow, or hurt you in some way with the way he acted once phainon had shown up. truthfully, it was petty, immensely childish and something unlike the behavior he should be putting out. how could you smile and speak to him so kindly after he’d reacted in such a way? if he were you- he certainly would have given himself a piece of his mind.. but he wasn't you, and you weren't him.
that was why you fit one another so well.
with one final look, mydei forced his gaze back on the task at hand, deeming himself unworthy of doing the latter.
the silence that followed, apart from the ambience from the kitchen and gentle breeze, stretched longer than he would have liked. normally he was comfortable with it, imploring it even at times, but it was.. unbearable, for a change. even as the food was served and the two of you had taken your places at the table that had just been decorated, nothing apart from a brief compliment and expression of gratitude had been expressed before the quiet settled once more.
man, he really fucked up, didn’t he?
finding difficulty in eating his food, mydei prodded at it with his fork, unable to stop himself from stealing glances here and there, even though he had told himself not to.
then, his patience finally seemed to snap when you still didn't notice him, and he cleared his throat. “so.. are we not going to talk about it?”
pausing mid-bite, you looked up at him, tilting your head. “talk about what?” the response came too easily, so airily- as though nothing had been wrong.
was there nothing wrong?
mydei had to wonder for a moment to himself if he was overreacting and making a big deal out of something that wasn't even bothering you.. but no- he knew it did, he was almost sure of it. "at the produce stall," he clarified, knitting his brows together just slightly. "when the deliverer- i mean, phainon," he paused, letting out a low sigh. "when phainon showed up." gods, why was this so difficult to bring across?
now chewing on a veggie from the stir-fry, you blinked over at your partner as though he had arrived from beyond the sky before letting out a chuckle. "oh, that?" you questioned, seemingly.. unbothered? "what about it did you want to talk about?"
you couldn't be serious. were you really going to yank it out of him? or did you genuinely not know?
fighting back his frustration, the prince composed himself, willing his nerves to cooperate. "i shouldn't have spoken over you like that." it was to the point, he knew that it was.. but he'd stalled long enough already. "especially after you had gotten me a gift- even if it's as simple as fruit.. it wasn't right of me, and as your partner- i shouldn't.." good grief, could it not just come out already? "i shouldn't have treated you that way, and for that i apologize."
the silence from before returned, and mydei was.. anxious, to say the least. it felt more suffocating than it initially did, if that was possible, and the way you stared at him like a deer in headlights was worrying.
maybe he should add? but what more could he say?
was there anything left to say?
he wasn't good at talking- it never came easily, or at least.. the speech he had to use with you was not something he was fluent in, for lack of better wording.
and yet you continued to stick around, not seeming to mind one bit. the same could be said for now, as the smile returned to your lips before you reached a hand across the table to touch his, gently giving his calloused fingers a squeeze. "oh mydei, i wasn't upset at you.. sure it caught me off guard, but i should have also known not to entertain the teasing too much." you reassured him, tracing circles over his warm skin with your thumb. "could you forgive me for that?"
now it was his turn to blink. you were apologizing to him now? what need was there for doing such when you had hardly done him any harm? it was phainon that had pushed it, if anything.
he squeezed your hand back, aurum hues softening. "what need is there to apologize when did nothing wrong?" he responded with a hint of mirth, offering a tiny smile. "i just wanna make sure we're okay. i know that i don't say it often- but i love you." mydei continued, pink returning to his cheeks. "you're.. the last person i would want to hurt, especially over a misunderstanding."
that got a laugh out of you, gentle and melodic. "i'm glad you feel that way, as well, mydei." you whispered back, slipping your fingers between the cracks of his own. "i love you, too. please don't hesitate to tell me when something is taken too far, okay? i want you to be just as comfortable as you want me to be." it wouldn't be fair otherwise, certainly if he was left feeling a type of way.
thankfully, despite some questioning in his head, mydei got the message, nodding slowly- bashfully. "as long as you do it with me, then i vow to do the same."
closing your eyes, you returned his nod with one of your own, grin stretching. "you can count on it! now- let's finish eating, yeah? your cooking deserves to be eaten at its intended temperature!"
notes. i wrote this in several intervals between schoolwork these past few weeks so i hope it’s ok</3 updates will be slower until the sem is over so bear with me until then! just a little more to go..
tysm for reading! consider leaving a tip if you enjoyed<3
↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask
request no.3: ellie im in need for cute kisses with sunday :< maybe like he's a bit insecure with himself cause he doesnt feel like he belongs with the astral express crew due to what happened in penacony so he looks to y/n for support and kinna uplifting advice + kisses + cuddles (im sunday btw cuz of school rn SOOOB i need an escape from my workload)
໒⦂ 𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔.
notes. hi pook, i haven’t quite written sunday before but i did do his redemption quest thingy so i’m hoping this goes well, try to take breaks if you can from the workload; ahem, unironically ‘i’m here’ from sonic frontiers fits very well here sooo i recommend..
genre. fluff + hurt / comfort
express!sunday x gn!reader.
no one was keeping count of the days, but sunday had counted each that came and went into the books. four hundred and seventy-seven days had passed since he was allowed to travel with the astral express.. and even with the time that had gone by, there was still this twinge of uncertainty pooling at his gut.
the nameless may have welcomed him, mr. yang more so than the others, but he still couldn’t shake this feeling of not quite belonging.
the trailblazer would be happily engaged with march 7th, dan heng seated attentively while they had their back and forth.. then as soon as he stepped foot, silence would overtake the exchange, as though death itself had appeared in the room.
and, well, part of him couldn’t disagree. he.. understood their skepticism well enough, and the discomfort they might have still felt having him aboard. he had nearly trapped them all in an eternal dream for the sake of bringing order, so it was valid of them to be on guard, evidently distant.
but still — it didn’t quite make him feel like anything less than something monstrous that needed to be cast out, and he supposed that to them — he probably was. which was fine, they were allowed to have their opinions- to still feel a certain way about it all, and hold some semblance of a grudge for his actions.
though sunday supposed, this was just his attempt at rationalizing what he had felt, if only to dull that lingering ache that he had felt somewhere in the depths of his chest.
tearing his golden gaze from the stars that passed him, the halovian sat himself on the bed that came with his quarters. nothing all too special or detailed, as he.. didn’t have a permanent room like the others, having only requested that he joined before finding his calling — but it didn’t make it any less cozy.
he supposed it did pale in comparison to the grandeur he was given back on penacony, but that was behind him — and not something he yearned for. rather, he craved something a bit more personable- something homey, to call his.
but that was probably out of his boundaries to ask, so he would just continue to embrace what he was provided with. it was more than he could have ever hoped to have achieved, anyway. even his release into the world had been a miracle from his sister.
he wondered if she felt any prouder of him and his new journey.
busying himself with his phone, he pressed mindlessly on the tiles rolling down the screen, a tune chiming that he’d played plenty of times before on the piano. for once, he found himself thinking that a hobby might be something he should consider getting, given the amount of free time he was now met with.. but was he allowed to have something like that?
in his head, probably not.
nearing the end of the song, sunday was about to complete the symphony before swapping over to one of the books saved to his digital library, until a set of knocks could be heard.
red bloomed beneath his finger at the startling noise, wings twitching as his gaze slid to the doorway.
..was he expecting someone?
“sunday! you in there?” a muffled voice called out from beyond the guest room he was bestowed, an all too familiar one. “mr. yang said i would find you in here!”
blinking at the wood separating him from the rest of the train, the silver haired male turned off his phone almost too abruptly, leaving it on his bed in favor of addressing none other than yourself.
aeons, he’d almost forgotten you amidst the pool of thoughts he’d drowned himself in just now.
“y/n,” he called out softly, offering a small smile. “what a pleasant surprise — i.. didn’t expect you back so soon.”
throwing your arms around your partner, you offered a wide grin, the door whirring shut behind you as he staggered back to stabilize the both of you.
“what, did you think i was gonna disappear for a thousand years or something?” you teased, pulling back to tilt your head. “i just had some something to take care of back on the luofu. just a little unresolved thing, but it’s all good now!” you assured, saluting the pianist before tugging him by the hand to his bed. “‘missed me while i was gone?”
considering you were the only one other than welt and sometime himeko that had tolerated his presence, he found himself nodding, giving your hand a squeeze. “quite a bit, truthfully..” so much so that he must have forced himself to forget your existence entirely if he’d forgotten you’d even left in the first place. “but waiting isn’t too much of a problem for me- i’ll.. always be here when you need me.” it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to be, anyway.
moving a few strands of his hair back into place with your free hand, you let out a pensive noise, absorbing his words. “maybe you should stop off with me next time, might be nice to get you off the express to see some sites, touch a little grass here and there.”
sunday considered your words, albeit through a slightly arched brow at the mention of grass. why do something so random? did it have to be a particular patch of it?
nevertheless, he committed your suggestion to memory, nodding slowly. “perhaps i will, if you would have me — of course.” he wouldn’t join all willy nilly, that wouldn’t be very becoming of him.
although you seemed to think otherwise, rolling your eyes before bumping his shoulder with yours. “duh, i wouldn’t offer otherwise.” you clarified, leaning your head against the curve of his bicep before rubbing the back of his palm with your thumb. “anyway, what’s on your mind? something’s bothering you.”
aurum hues widened just slightly ahead of him, slowly sliding to your form at his side. “what gives you that impression, exactly?”
you didn’t lift your head, only humming. “the wings did, but you also sound unsure with your words — like you can’t fully trust what you’re saying.” you pointed out, deciding for lay down against stretch of his bed, even if it was horizontally.
biting back his embarrassment, mentally cursing his feathery appendages, sunday joined you on the plush surface when you beckoned him to, pursing his lips together. what could he say to that? he’d might as well be venting at that point, which.. probably wasn’t what you wanted to hear right now — or anybody for that matter.
yet you looked at him with those curious, patient eyes, and he found immense difficulty in fronting any longer than he already had. “your observation was.. not incorrect,” he began, focusing his gaze on the ceiling. “i guess you could say i’m still having difficulty trying to fit in around here. i understand the express keeping me at arms’ length, i’m.. not exactly an official member, but it can be a little.. disheartening at times to dull the energy whenever i enter a room that they are gathered in.” it was why he started cooping himself up more and more since you’d gone to visit the xianzhou. “i don’t need them to like me, but i wish there was something i could do to make them tolerate my presence at the very least.. is that too selfish of me to ask?”
slotting yourself against him, you shook your head, placing a kiss beneath his jaw. “not at all, i get wanting to fit in — especially since some considerable time has passed.” you spoke up, playing mindlessly with his hair. “only way to patch that up though is by putting yourself out there, y’know? be more casual- down for going out of what you know and are comfortable with.” he’d been there awhile but it wasn’t often sunday tried to go out of his comfort zone.
maybe for combat oriented things, but for the more everyday or social things — it was a rare thing. perhaps it would be different if he was slightly more welcome, invited to come along or be part of the conversation.. but that was still something that needed work.
pursing his lips together, his gaze fell to the other end of his room, opposite from where you were curled up against him. “i fear that might be a little forward of me. aside from mr. yang, everyone is still quite weary of me. miss himeko has been warming up more, but i know that she still has her thoughts about me- same with the trailblazer.” he tried saying, bringing his half-lidded stare back to you. “how might i be able to involve myself more if they are on the fence about my presence? would i not just sully the mood in joining in on their gatherings or conversations?”
you were quiet for a moment as you pondered, and for a second sunday worried you might’ve agreed — that his assumptions would be true.. but then you shook your head.
“i think that might be more of a reason to join- to show initiative, and kinda lower the chances of them reacting that way until it’s zero.” you supplied, offering a tender smile. “if you keep wanting to hang out, they’ll warm up more. i know i did, so too did mr. yang — so i think it’s worth trying.”
slipping your hand back into his, you gave a squeeze to it — a steadiness to assure him you would be with him on this journey. “it’s better to put out than to sit and go over the what ifs in your head. cuz by wondering, you’ll never really know the answer, will you?” it would all just be speculation, without any intervention from the people in question. “so let’s give it a try sometime, i think it’ll really catch them off guard! and before you know it, you’ll be with them so much, you’ll be wanting to be back in your room!” or at least, that’s what you would expect from an introvert.
sunday weighed your words, carefully taking each of them in before inclining his head. “you make a good point. i.. guess there is no harm in my trying, certainly if you are there with me.”
unable to bite back your sweet laughter, you pecked his cheek this time, snuggling closer. “of course! i’ll be here every step of the way, i promise.”
notes. sunday posting yayayay i really hope i wrote him okay, this is the interpretation i got so far from him after penacony’s story, so… yeah.. he’s a bit of a wet cat but i think it fits in with the prompt, maybe
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request no.2: not really sure who u could do this with but like a character gets thrown into our world and is very out of place due to culture here (like that one rp we did ages ago but for hsr characters)
i'm thinking a few characters here: i would say the trailblazer cuz it would be funny, aventurine, maybe mydei, phainon, jing yuan, and anaxa. you can do one or do headcanons for all LOL you decide
໒⦂ 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐇𝐂𝐒.
notes. tenk yew for the request and tip pook, decided to do the amphoreus trio since they’re the most disconnected from our world, so hope das cool w you and uhhhh baby’s first time writing mydei and anaxa..
genre. crack + fluff + reverse isekai
ft. phainon, anaxa, mydei
gn!reader.
➫ 𝓟𝗛𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗢𝗡 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗
⌗ this is.. not a new cycle, which is the first thing he realizes upon seeing the new environment that he has found himself in. if anything, maybe he was dreaming- there was no way anywhere on amphoreus had looked like this, as far as he was concerned- not to mention the technology he's never seen before, either. but as he pinched himself.. the pain seemed to tell him otherwise
⌗ you were.. more or less asleep when it happened; let's say it was a long day, where you just laid down — and it was history from there. no dailies were done, homework / work / responsibilities were an after thought- nothing was of any relevance to you.
⌗ well, until you felt poking at your cheek. gentle prodding and calls of an all too familiar voice. you were dreaming, surely you were- there was no shot that phain shit was calling out to you from beyond the subconscious.. but he was- he very much was.
⌗ and goodness gracious you almost pissed yourself right on the spot once your eyes did open to find this guy leaning over you, raising a brow with this sheepish smile as he attempted to get some form of an answer out of you after having disrupted your rest
⌗ gosh why was he so perfect? truly, the best husband- everyone else around you paled in comparison- nobody could hold ANYTHING to this guy.. which is why this had to be a dream.
⌗ it wasn't. it really wasn't.
⌗ "my apologies- i don't mean to disrupt your rest, friend! but i.. seem to have found myself a little out of place- unless this is some part of amphoreus that i haven't gotten the chance to see.."
⌗ this man was unreal- he had to be.. and yet he wasn't. as you shot up and scooted back against your headboard on instinct, you felt a dull pain from the impact.. which should be enough to tell you that this was not in fact a dream
⌗ a normal person might have screamed or thrown stuff, saying that he should get out of your room or that the convention was elsewhere- that you weren't into roleplay.. but you answered his question with honesty.. and then bombarded him with some ones of your own- i mean come on, how often did phainon appear in your bedroom dude..
⌗ he was vague at first with his explanations, but given your honesty and what he could surmise.. it seemed like there wasn't much use in hiding if he wanted to find a way back to everyone to fulfill the prophecy- so he elaborated on what he could.
⌗ you.. pretty much knew everything already, but went along with what he said, anyway, and informed him on where he was- explaining that you were not in fact on amphoreus, and that for whatever reason that you did not manage to quite catch, he had ended up in your room
⌗ unlike the others, i feel like phainon might be a little more antsy about wanting to get back to amphoreus. he's trying his best to look for ways back, has you search through the entire game ( as you introduce it to him ) for a loophole to get him back.. but there's literally nothing- it makes no sense
⌗ you feel bad- you wish you could do more for him, but perhaps the answer was not really something to be found in the game, but maybe something that had to happen or take place between you two?
⌗ like the others- you kinda had to get him new clothes, or to at least shed some layers to pass for what society deemed as menswear- and brother.. you had to drag him away from the god damn purple and yellow combo you will NOT be seen in public with a beautiful man dressed like that.
⌗ you settle for this cute light academia kinda look, following the color palette on the clothing he wears in game- so that's cool, and he's quite happy with it too- i mean aglaea dresses him, so it's nothing new to him.. though the fashion is refreshing, so he is quite astounded by it upon initial purchase.
⌗ tho, bro's a little too comfortable with undressing around you though, like HELLO?? and offering to share a bath?? dawg- you JUST met.. but i guess stuff like that doesn't really come off to him as weird, it's a difference in culture, perhaps- which you.. tried to understand ( unless its normal in yours then uh!!! no problem at all! )
⌗ cuz you don't wanna coop him up in your room, you take him out maybe to some local shops and the weekly fresh market, which reminds him a lot of his own home- but just that he was spending this with you, which was kinda different- a good kind of different that he might have been missing out on up until now
⌗ something something karaoke?? yk phainon's theme, coronal radiance? angsty i know but the vocals in there have made me hc that it's him yknow singing the song, so i feel like bro would just have this beautiful voice oughghghg and i think that voice just gotta come out so karaoke it is.. even if he probably knows NONE of the songs you wanna sing, let alone half the choices or genres- but it was a good time, trust
⌗ the prophecy is still in the back of his mind, but it starts to dull a little, where he becomes.. conflicted, to say the least. this accident of him arriving to you was some of the nicest and most carefree days that he has spent in the longest time, where he hasn't had to worry about protecting everyone or playing the hero. it was foreign at first, naturally, but something that came to make him hesitate on his return..
⌗ moreover, being with you was like a fresh breath of air- something he could only ever dream of having because there was no shot at all of having something like this with the type of life he leads. selfishness begins to brim in him, and he's torn between giving into allowing the world to just unravel without his intervention and surrender to fate.. or return to fulfill his duties as the deliverer.
➫ 𝓐𝗡𝗔𝗫𝗔 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗
⌗ he SEEMS like he’s the calmest one about this whole occurrence. bro spawns into your room and is like huh, okay — this is unfamiliar, surely there is some sort of logical explanation for how he ended up in this new place and where it even was, but there's a little bit of excitement that he's feeling too!
⌗ so he conducts his own research with what he is given, aka your room, y'know checking things out, taking in his surroundings.. and then starts to notice the game on your setup — comrades of his that he recognizes.. and some decor that bears a striking resemblance to himself..
⌗ he questions it in his head, committing it to memory before he would eventually form a hypothesis.. until he sees his splash art with 'anaxa' written, and that's the final nail in the coffin.
⌗ whoever this person was, they fucked up.
⌗ and that person was you, i fear.. you were coming home from whatever- be it school, work or anywhere but your room ( i know, i know hermits, i hear you- maybe you were hitting up that bathroom or getting food idk ), walking through your door like it was any other day.. and suddenly you were staring down the barrel of this man's glock.
⌗ your first instinct probably should have been to scream, maybe question how the hell a cosplayer got into your home and why their prop was charging up- because that should not be real.. this man was NOT in your room right now.
⌗ so you did what you probably should not have done, and accepted that it was natural selection. your fictional crush was here to bring you death, and i guess if you were gonna die at least it might make you both into a greek tragedy or something.
⌗ except the shot never came, the firearm lowering from your face as the distance was crossed between you and the professor, aqua-magenta locking in on you- assessing. man oh man, you were fucked, weren't you?
⌗ "whoever you might be," he began, leaning into your bubble with one eye narrowed, pressing the tip of his weapon against your chest. "it's anaxagoras. get it right."
⌗ ..okay you weren't dead, but holy fuck that man could fire at any given moment, and it was all over his name. how was it your fault that the drip marketing and game itself had used 'anaxa'?! what did he expect you to do- grab a sharpie and add 'goras' to the end of his name??
⌗ honestly you were more or less baffled, and before you can begin to ask what the hell he was doing in your room, how he got there- and above all if you were tripping balls because this was too real to be a cosplayer.. he was asking you the questions. where he was, who you were, how you knew him ( because he hadn't formed a concrete response based on what he'd observed so far ) — yeah, anything and everything pretty much until he was satisfied.
⌗ you can't even remember if you got around to asking how he got there because he seemed to explain it somewhere along the way without your asking, and based on his behavior.. it was safe to assume you were met with the real deal.
⌗ it was decided ( more like asserted ) that he would be staying with you for the time being, searching for a way back while observing the new world he was thrust into, alongside the things that were new to him, and.. well, you. cuz you, too, were a subject of interest.
⌗ if you're in academics, you can bet he's helping you out at home with any work or assignments you have, blowing you away with his intelligence- but no matter how much you begged, pleaded and filled his ego.. he would not do your work for you</3 if you have a job instead or other responsibilities- he might consider sharing the latter with you, but yeah anything school or work related- that's for you, homeslice
⌗ coffee shop + bookstore + antique store outings! you feel like he might enjoy those sorts of venues, or even a planetarium visit might also do it for him- you just wanna take him around to some place you've kinda associated with him- fulfill some of those delusions a little
⌗ there are no dromas, but he spotted some dinosaur looking merch or figures / plushes and kinda had to pause to take it all in. like woah, this was not very commonly seen back home, and there were all kinds of variants- which was.. something you did have to explain to him, and clarify they no longer existed, but that a study was dedicated to them ( paleontology )
⌗ safe to say that your plushie collection may have grown, and that showing him pokemon also seemed to burn a hole through your wallet but you know what- it's fine dawg, this a once in a lifetime opportunity- you were gonna soak it up even if it meant going just a TINY bit broke
⌗ it was needless to say that you would be visiting a lot more museums with anaxa around, but it wasn't an issue- it was.. sweet to see him show this innocent side of wonder, rather than the usual demeanor he carried with himself. moreover that he was willing to share it with you.
⌗ ykw he's lowkey dripped out in star rail, i think bro would fuck with shopping for clothes. he wants to serve cunt, have you seen the way he walks? you definitely gotta get that man to a mall and THEN to the club because i think he could bust down. nobody would expect it but i feel like he got it in him. just uh.. leave the glock at home..
⌗ when the time nears to return, or i guess the thought that he had to go back to amphoreus.. he's filled with hesitance to go back. he has students that need him- his fellow chrysos heirs, too, but life here has just been so refreshing- there's so much to learn about and hardly enough time to dedicate to that. not to mention things were hitting off a little with you, and it just felt- wrong to leave you behind just like that, after this time you'd spent together. he wondered if maybe.. you might like to join him?
➫ 𝓜𝗬𝗗𝗘𝗜 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗
⌗ good grief, you have no idea how much you’re in for bro.. this man bouta turn your whole world upside down
⌗ honestly you went to the bathroom when it happened; you thought you could walk away while you left your shit on auto, thinking that would be enough to farm for whoever you were pulling next ( or had already pulled ) and then.. homeboy died
⌗ the rest of the farming must have finished without any more fallen characters, because only mydei found himself in this newfound domestic setting — comrades evidently missing, and an all too calm atmosphere.
⌗ part of him thought it to be an illusion, going as far as to call upon his powers and raw strength to shatter through the possible mirage he'd awaken in.. until the door suddenly swung open, revealing someone he had never seen before in his life
⌗ and that someone, aka you, had gone as far as to lunge right for his arm, knocking the two of you down in the process- thankfully on the bed.. but still man, little bit much for a first meeting
⌗ honestly he would have thrown you off immediately, but he was just so baffled at your display of strength ( cuz i am almost sure bro is NOT a lightweight in build ), and at the fact that you possibly knew something that he didn't about this new environment
⌗ i mean, duh, it's your room, so..
⌗ still, you can bet that once he snaps from his stupor, he'll say some shit like, "you would place your hands so casually on the crown prince of castrum kremnos?"
⌗ the answer is yes.
⌗ after questioning how he had gotten into your room and asking 392044820 times if he was there in the flesh, you had to give a long-winded explanation of where he was, who you were, and what he was allowed to do and not do in the world you lived in. because brother- the last thing you needed was to see a report on the tv, halfway into your lunch about a strawberry blond throwing hands with people in the streets.
⌗ you also had to get him some clothing that is less.. on the nose, and also a little more suitable for being seen in public with him. you insisted on a sweater or turtleneck but he didn't want anything too warm or constricting, so he settled for the fitted t-shirt and sweats combo ( SLUT )
⌗ he did start to develop a thing for alt wear though
⌗ acai bowls bro? he's fucking that shit up, especially the ones with pomegranate in them, like fah you took him to this one place that customizes them in front of you ( subway style ) and he was pleasantly surprised in how tasty the result was
⌗ he's not really used to leisure life, he's got that warrior mindset so he feels immensely disconnected to a life that centers around little to no combat and is basically just.. a slice of life, for lack of better wording, but it's not too horrible- it's just something to get used to.
⌗ i honestly see him getting into a sport maybe to keep up some form of activity; like some kinda martial arts if he wants to go for combat, or i could see him playing either soccer or basketball — idk man i feel like bro could kick / toss, tyat and there's constant movement.. although somebody might get injured tho..
⌗ for either sport, i feel like the basket or goal would bust on his first try- just shatters from the sheer impact of the dunk or score and bro.. you've never wanted the ground to swallow you up wholly or freak out so bad bc hello? that is a sexy display- aside from the destruction..
⌗ you take him to a theme park one day to get him out and about for a bit, and he's quite good at a lot of the games! you spoke absently about wanting to get prizes and having trouble doing so, which sorta pushed him to get you plushies to take home<3 he also really enjoyed the rides, they gave him the same type of rush that he gets in battle, so that definitely filled in that void he was missing
⌗ in the back of his mind, he knows this isn't entirely forever- that his people needed him, and that he had responsibilities back home, rather than this new home he had found himself growing used to, but for once.. he finds difficulty wanting to return to his life, and it definitely has something to do with you
⌗ you showed him a side to life he never really knew, and taught him all these new things either found in the world you live in, or just some things he didn't quite care to look into back on amphoreus. it felt a little.. disheartening to leave that behind- to leave you behind
⌗ some selfish part of him wanted to take you with him, to bring you back and show you of the things you'd only ever seen on screen.. but he knows it's unrealistic, and immensely unfair to you- certainly with the prophecy that has created a rather.. unsafe environment. so for now, he would opt to enjoy what he had left with you, and not think too much about the expiration date of the time you had together.
notes. dawg this virus got me battling on all fronts i want to be freed</3 anyway, i hope these hcs were good pook, tried to give a little context for each and some things they would do as well. wish i did more dialogue but i focused a little much on the details..
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