ʚɞ It's just like seeing her for the first time again ʚɞ
⚘ Pairings: Phainon/Khaslana x Reader
⚘ Summery: With the Era Nova completed, your beloved Phainon has long taken the role of Worldbearing Titan, now bearing the name 'Khaslana'. Even so, neither of you have refused to forget each other. And now, as you visit the Titan with the Tribios, you find yourself in a troublesome situation with a slumbering god.
⚘ Tags: Fluff, canon divergent, Titan!Phainon, the Era Nova is true in this AU so all the Chrysos Heirs are now Titans, fuck Lygus, established relationship, basically Phainon being lovesick while bearing the Dawn Device and everything, #ilovemywife
⚘ Word count: 1k
⚘ A/N: Happy anniversary to Phainon and this blog, it changed my life, so have this slop i miss him so much omfg
Beneath the Dawn Device’s unwavering radiance lies a bustling Okhema. Action-Hour has just begun, and the merchants alongside the shopkeepers waste no time in opening their stalls, their voices already rising into the morning air. Bright fabrics are unfurled, polished wares arranged with care, and the scent of warm food drifts lazily through the streets.
Children’s laughter rings clear as they gather beneath Aglaea’s golden thread woven high above, daring one another to leap higher, to reach closer, as though they might grasp divinity itself. And between it all, the little Tribios flit through the streets like fragments of light—tiny, radiant guides leading humanity gently toward its countless destinations.
“Snowy, wake up!” Tribbie calls, her voice bright and insistent as it echoes toward the slumbering god before her. Behind her linger Trianne and Trinnon—the remaining fragments of the Passage Titan—quiet yet watchful, their presence carrying a weight far older than the lively city below.
Beside them stands you—Trianne’s so-called 'Worldbearing Star'. A title you have protested more times than you can count, one that feels far too grand, far too misplaced upon your shoulders. Yet they insist. To Trinnon’s logic, if the Worldbearing Titan himself bears Amphoreus upon his existence, then it is only fitting that his beloved be the guiding star that walks beside him through every phase—life, death, and all that lingers in between.
However, Khaslana does not stir at Tribbie’s call. He remains as he is—motionless, unbothered, slumbering like an ancient monument carved into existence. One pair of his arms continues to uphold the Dawn Device, unwavering even in sleep, as though such a burden has long since become second nature. You would argue it is a habit inherited from his human self. Despite being a tireless Flame-Chaser in the past, Phainon had never once passed up an opportunity to rest when it presented itself—and it seems even ascension has not rid him of that trait.
Tribbie glances toward you with a look that can only be described as troublesome, mischief and mild exasperation mingling in her expression. Beside her, Trianne looks far less amused—her posture already stiffening, as though preparing to scold the Titan himself. Truly, such laziness does not suit the Worldbearing Titan… at least, not in her eyes.
“Wake up, Snowy. We have a guest,” Trinnon tries again, her voice calm and measured, carrying a gentler authority.
It proves just as futile.
Tribbie sighs, long and dramatic, as Khaslana remains entirely unresponsive. You consider stepping in—suggesting that perhaps they should try again later, that there is no need to force themselves to wake him from such a deep slumber.
But of course, they are stubborn.
Trianne floats forward, drawing in a breath until her chest rises with the effort. “Little [Name] has come to visit you, Snowy!!” she calls out, her voice ringing with half her strength, determined to pierce through the thick veil of his sleep.
For a moment, the attempt crosses the possibility of a failure. Then—at last—one golden eye flutters open.
Relief ripples instantly through the fragments of the Passage Titan, their tension easing as Khaslana slowly begins to wake. His other eye follows, heavy with lingering drowsiness, and the Tribios collectively release soft sighs of triumph. Beside them, you cannot help the quiet chuckle that escapes you, light and unrestrained.
Where others might tremble before the Worldbearing Titan, you find yourself laughing more freely than anyone.
Khaslana lifts his head, the motion slow but effortless, his awareness settling over the scene before him. For a being of such scale, such ancient weight, he has retained an almost startling amount of his humanity. And the moment his gaze finds you—truly finds you—his expression softens, brightening into something unmistakably warm.
“Oh,” he hums, voice still touched with sleep, “I have four lovely guests.”
His gaze drifts over the group, but it does not linger long on the others. Inevitably, inevitably, it returns to you—carrying something quieter, something unspoken, as though the rest of his sentence exists only in the space between you both.
And you are the loveliest of all.
Trianne huffs, clearly irritated, though it is a fleeting thing—one that will undoubtedly fade within minutes. “We may be lovely,” she snaps, “but you certainly weren’t, with the way you were sleeping!”
A soft laugh escapes Khaslana, low and unbothered, as he tilts his head slightly to better observe the four of you. There is amusement in his gaze, gentle and unguarded—until Trianne fixes him with what is meant to be a warning glare. In practice, it resembles more a child’s attempt at intimidation than anything truly threatening.
Before he can respond, she turns sharply and flies off, her indignation carrying her forward. Tribbie follows with a small shrug, and Trinnon hesitates only briefly before trailing after them, leaving you behind in their wake.
You can only smile fondly as you watch them leave, their voices fading into the lively hum of Okhema below. You know well that none of them have taken anything to heart—bantering with Khaslana has always been one of their favorite pastimes, rivaled only by the hours they spend in Aglaea’s presence. It is a familiar rhythm, one you have seen play out countless times, and one that never truly changes.
Out of nowhere, something brushes gently against you.
You turn, only to find Khaslana already watching you—his immense form lowered, bringing himself down to your level with a care that feels almost reverent. There is a softness in his gaze, something warm and unguarded, as though the vastness of his existence narrows to you alone. One of his fingers shifts slightly, brushing against you in a motion meant to mimic a poke—a small, almost playful gesture he once did so easily, and now can only imitate.
“My beloved has taken time out of their day to visit me,” he murmurs, voice low and threaded with quiet fondness. “How could I ever ignore such a call?”
The way he speaks—so earnest, so effortlessly devoted—affects you no less than it once did when he was still Phainon. A devotee in every life, it seems. Some things, even ascension cannot change.
A soft smile curves your lips as you rest your hand lightly against his finger, grounding both yourself and him. “A flatterer, through and through,” you tease gently, though the warmth in your voice betrays you. You have heard words like these a thousand times before—yet they never quite lose their weight.
As expected, his response comes not in words, but in action.
A free pair of his arms begins to move, slow and deliberate, forming a quiet barrier around you. The world beyond is gently obscured, his towering presence shielding you from the eyes of Okhema. To him, you are something far more sacred than even a Coreflame—something that should not be witnessed carelessly, something to be hidden away from the gaze of others. Though, as always, you are quick to recognize the exaggeration woven into his beliefs.
Still, you step closer. Raising your hand, you let it come to rest against a small portion of his cheek. The contact is featherlight, almost insignificant in scale—a touch so gentle it should not register upon a being of his size.
Yet, it does and Khaslana stills completely.
For a fleeting moment, it feels as though everything about him—his breath, his thoughts, the quiet hum of his existence—pauses, just to feel that fragile, fleeting warmth. As though the vastness of the world he carries fades into nothing, leaving only the soft press of your hand against him.
Silence settles between you. It lingers, unbroken, stretching into minutes as he remains there, unmoving, basking in the small flame of your touch. You can tell, even without him saying it, that he is fighting the pull of sleep. That familiar heaviness threatens to claim him once more—after all, even your voice alone has always been enough to lull him into rest.
“How was your day, Dawnlight?” the Worldbearing Titan finally murmurs, his voice softer now, almost drowsy. His sunrise-gold eyes flutter open again, seeking you out as though he fears you might disappear the moment he closes them.
Those eyes…
They have never changed. Still loving. Still unbearably, hopelessly devoted—no matter the life, no matter the form.
Once, long ago, Phainon had asked you the same question, his head resting against your chest as he sought refuge in the sound of your voice. Back then, it had been a simple wish—to fall asleep without nightmares, to let your voice be the last thing he heard before sleep claimed him.
Now, stripped of his mortal shell and reborn beneath the Era Nova, Khaslana waits for that same answer.
Not for the sake of conversation— But in the quiet hope that, if he listens closely enough, he might drift into sleep once more… and dream of a world where he can hold you once more.
INTRODUCTION. You were desperate for a job— desperate enough to call the uncle you haven’t spoken to in years. Somehow, he lands you a position on his farm. Easy work, right?
Wrong.
The moment you arrive, you realize the entire workforce consists of hybrids… all of whom stare at you like you’re their newest curiosity. And as the only human on the farm, you’re starting to wonder what exactly your uncle hired you for.
Just as you’re settling in, he calls out one last instruction:
“Be gentle when servicing my hybrids!”
You freeze as you watch him disappears. And now every hybrid on the farm looks way too excited.
Congratulations. You have no idea what this job is— but the hybrids definitely do.
( ! ) Multiple Male Characters x Reader , porn with little/no plot , short series (?) , crossover , NSFW , smut , potentially ooc characters , HYBRID/FARM AU , heat cycles
( ❤︎ ) Inspired by Mr. A's Farm
( ✎ ) ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE I apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes I might make in the future fics. And also, please do not be afraid to comment if I misplace or misuse a tag/warning!
( # ) To see more about this series, look at #■■.Farm au !
INTRODUCING our beloved farm hybrids! They’re strong, hardworking, loyal, and—according to your uncle—very eager to meet you. So please, take good care of them, dear. They’ve worked so hard, and they deserve only the best (you). ꉂ(˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵)
COW HYBRIDS
I. PHAINON — Sub! Phainon , milking/lactating , breeding , Male! Reader ...etc.
II. DILUC — Sub! Diluc , overstimulation , milking/lactating , breeding , Fem! Reader ...etc.
III. MYDEIMOS — Sub! Mydei , overstimulation , rough , manhandling , heat cycles , bondage , use of milking machine , breeding , Male! Reader ...etc.
IV. NANAMI KENTO — Sub! Nanami , heat cycle , milking/lactating , use of milking machine , gn! Reader ...etc.
BULL HYBRIDS
I. TOJI FUSHIGURO — Dom Toji , breeding , knotting , rough sex , Male! Reader ...etc.
II. SUKUNA RYOMEN— Dom Sukuna , rough sex, sadistic sukuna , Fem! Reader , breeding ...etc.
III. BLADE — Switch Blade , bondage, rough sex , Gn! Reader ...etc.
I. WELT YANG — Service Sub! Welt , blowjob , age difference , cum eating , fingering , Male Reader ...etc.
II. CHOSO — Sub! Choso , roleplay , fingering , rough sex , gn! Reader ...etc.
III. HIROMI HIRUGUMA — Sub! Hiromi , sleepy sex , praising , riding , overstimulation , Fem! Reader ...etc.
CHICKEN HYBRIDS
I. DAN HENG — Sub! Dan heng , breeding , egg fertilization , overstimulation , begging , praising , Male! Reader ...etc.
II. ZHONGLI — Sub! Zhongli , overstimulation , fingering , begging , praising , pegging , Fem! Reader ...etc.
III. SUNDAY — Sub! Sunday , lingerie , dacryphilia , overstimulation , rough sex , Gn! Reader ...etc.
SPECIALS !
???...
( ✎ ) PLEASE NOTE that some of these tags might change and I might add more characters/hybrids if I feel like it! AND EXPECT slow updates and frequent editing in the fics! I’ll be posting each fic in no specific order.
SYNOPSIS: you have known phainon as the boy who liked to play tag, disliked hide and seek, and a god with great responsibility. unfortunately for you, he hides too many secrets.
𖥔 WORDCOUNT: 3.3k ┆ 𖥔 TAGS. @amorsial @cinerias @shoyosluver @hirokasama @uzxotic @anqelkoz @leafyonz @suyeomiiee @ddurandals @007-archives @officialkatzline -> taglist is being reworked! feel free to send in an ask (off-anon) or comment if you'd like to be tagged in future works ^^
𖥔 WARNINGS: au where the chrysos heirs are actual gods. mentions of blood, violence, and weapons. character death. potential ooc (i haven't written for the guy in a hot minute okay....) not fully proofread; expect mistakes!
♪ FINAL NOTES .ᐟ an order of a blue cup with blood orange & cranberry tea, a splash of lemon juice, and a cheesy vegetable garden tart for TEA99. this has highkey changed from the initial idea but wtv!
It's almost laughable how you painfully want to wrap your fingers around Phainon's neck in a vice grip. Alas, you can't do that—not without any immediate and lasting repercussions, at least, and you'd rather not be the cause of Anaxagoras's headache. As much as you loved annoying the god, Phainon had already taken up that post.
"What's gotten you in such a sour mood?"
And on cue, the pensive expression on your face shifts into a nasty sneer. Without another word, you grip the basket of harvest to your hip just a tad tighter when another pair of footsteps walk with you. You bite your tongue hard. Hard enough to draw blood when steady but scarred hands take the woven thing from your grasp.
"You, if it wasn't obvious enough," you bark out, arms crossing over your chest—unsure what to do with them now.
Phainon only laughs, that bellowing sound that poets would describe as sunlight dripping like molten wax under the summer afternoon. It's an annoying, grating sound you'd much rather avoid. But he's persistent. At being helpful, at being a gentleman, at never knowing when to give you a moment of peace since you've become Cyrene's handmaiden.
For a god bearing the world's responsibilities, Phainon sure had enough time on his hands to come and talk your ear off.
"Well, that's not a nice way to greet a friend."
"We're not friends, my lord."
The formality bleeds in like a familiar habit. When you're at the steps of your goddess's temple, you snatch the basket from his hands with haste, leaving him stunned at the foot of the stairs as you march your way up. You don't look back; you force yourself not to when he shouts.
"Tell Cyrene I said 'hello'!"
You only roll your eyes as you mutter. "Go do it yourself."
The following morning, Phainon is there. Of course he is; he's a god—just not yours. As Cyrene had informed, every ruling divine residing in Amphoreus was cordially invited to a simple get-together. 'To maintain a close bond!' she had explained when you asked. And in a sense, you understood why she does it.
He's seated next to her, perks of being childhood friends before inheriting their titles, you suppose. Romance is to Phainon's left, and Reason is next to her. You hide a smile behind your chalice as Trickery pounces toward your side, already whispering the townsfolk's recent gossip. Strife is across from Phainon, leaning back on his chair as he recounts another tale from his recent escapades in dealing with the Black Tide's army. Death is next to him, silent but not invisible, swirling the drink in her purple palms, laughing with the Sky quietly as Worldbearing is scolded.
Passage is running late, so is Law and the Ocean. Not unknown prospects to you—you were the one to deliver the news to Time after all.
It's such a normal sight, one you didn't and wouldn't have believed even as Cyrene retold the events of the previous gathering. Everyone was lathered in ambrosia, flour, and laughter as they attempted to cook. A very human affair for beings that mortals look to for guidance and protection. If you hadn't taken your goddess's blessings, you'd have remained ignorant of such a strange, familial connection between them.
"And what about you?" Cifera drawls out, yellow-manicured fingers dancing across your arms. You ignore the pin-prickling feeling of another pair of eyes raking over your figure as you try to hide in your own skin.
You can only throw the goddess of trickery a wry smile, "Nothing out of sorts. Definitely paling in comparison to your mischief."
Cifera preens at your unabashed gloating over her name. Her feline-like eyes focus on your own as she tries to make a grab at your chalice. "Oh, don't be like that! Surely something interesting must be going on in your little life."
"If there was, I'd be racing to tell you," you argue. Not necessarily a lie, after becoming a demigod, you find yourself indulging in the presence of your little thief if you aren't running around to finish your duties.
"Cifera, leave the attendant alone." Romance warns.
With a roll of her eyes and a hidden chuckle from you, Cifera bids you farewell and scurries back to her seat next to Strife.
Cyrene beckons you over, having already noticed the clouds obscuring your face. She always has, ever caring for the people that surround her—divine and mortal alike. It delivers a short pang of guilt in your heart as you assure her with a wave of your hand. How lucky you are to have been graced by the blessing of a gentle god like Cyrene. Maybe that's why you leave the scene.
You can't bear to indulge in her charade. No matter how many times she tells you that it will grow easier over time, it has not. It has become painfully difficult to face all of them with the knowledge that you are stuck. Looping in cycles that threaten and bind your existence to one focal point you cannot derive from.
It is cruel; it is unprecedented—it is entirely unlike her. How Time can cradle you so softly, a gentle smile easing your worries and simultaneously forcing all of your cards out of your hands when you least expect it. Cyrene is not a punishing god to attend to, but she is infinitely hard to understand.
"Leaving so soon?" A smooth voice asks just a few feet from where you stand in the balcony overlooking the Temple of Evernight. You sigh heavily when you wait for a few minutes, and Phainon doesn't leave. It seems like he has no plans of leaving you alone.
"Shouldn't you be indulging in honeycakes and ambrosia by now?" You ask with an annoyed lilt to your voice. Much to your horror, Phainon has taken your reply as an invitation to chat as he takes the spot next to you. You ignore how your shoulders are nearly touching.
"Flavour fatigue," he explains. "I still can't believe Mydeimos can down so many plates of those!"
You don't offer him anything—not a word, not even a spared breath in his direction. It's as if you're actively holding your breath when he invades your space. Not one wrong inhale when the air carries the scent of wheatfield and drying sunshine, and you'll forget all that you've worked for.
Phainon clears his throat, failing to keep his composure as the air between you turns awkward. He's started tapping on the marble, eyes unsure where they can and can't land without you snapping. You almost snort at the stupidity of it all. He's a god for goodness' sake! One who holds your entire fate in the palm of his hands. And yet here he is, fixing his chiton, his hair, and shuffling from one foot to another just to appear unbothered.
How has this buffon taken the title of a god when he's like this with you?
"I'm retiring for the night. Enjoy the rest of your evening." You say, cutting through the silence after you couldn't take any more of it. The path of some peace and quiet was so clear in your mind—just a few heavy strides into the temple, turn right, and you're in your quarters—but it can never be that simple when Phainon is involved. It's as if he's allergic to not meddling in affairs he shouldn't.
"One moment, I still want to—"
"My Lord, unhand me."
He glares, not at you. You've noticed he's always done that—avoiding his more divine features from your periphery as if you weren't partially god yourself. It infuriates you, but not in the way it should. Phainon's actions appear arrogant, as if wedging a giant wall between you. A reminder that he is a full god, while you can only scrape off a fraction of it to even stand beside him. Phainon has never done that—never made you feel any lesser; hell, he treats you better—and that's the problem.
"Please," he pleads with you as his other hand envelops yours, bringing it to his lips as his breath ghosts over your skin. He is warm. No, that's not right. For all the words you have used to describe Phainon, it is not 'warm'. Scalding would be much better. "I just need a moment of your time to tell you that I…"
The words catch in his throat. He looked almost in pain, as if someone had stabbed him through the heart with a blade meant to incapacitate him for all eternity. Under the Evernight's glow, where the fireflies have decided to dance and the breeze to go still, Phainon's eyes are shadowed by an emotion you cannot begin to name.
"I…" He tries again, his hold on your hand growing tighter as his teeth catch his bottom lip. No further words escape him, and he takes it as a cue to finally resign himself to his fate.
You grit your teeth. The force is so hard you feel it crack like the earth in your own jaw. You pry your hand away from him, rubbing at the skin of your wrist raw as you glare. Phainon looks defeated; it annoys you. He looks defeated as you spare him no glance when you turn to leave.
Phainon thinks his curse is not that he has to bear the world and all its people. He thinks he's cursed with never having to hold you again.
"Distracted," a gruff voice points out as he cries out in pain. His hands instinctively come to rub at the sore spot on his head as Mydeimos drops the wooden sword in front of him.
"How rude!" Phainon exclaims with faux irritation. "I was thinking."
"Dangerous game," Mydeimos replies, dropping to sit cross-legged in front of Phainon. His chin is propped up against the heart of his gloved palm, the gold of his necklace and bracers catching the morning rays like a dream catcher. "What's gotten you so up in the clouds? I doubt even Hyacinthia can pluck you out of it."
When Phainon doesn't reply, Mydeimos only hums.
"Is it the attendant? The one always at Cyrene's side?"
It's embarrassing how fast the mention of you catches his attention.
Noticing his failure at subtlety, Phainon hides behind a closed fist and clears his throat. The actions do little to stop the sly smirk that breaks out on Strife's face. Suddenly, he is a boy again. In the wheatfields of Aedes Elysiae, hiding behind their pale golden light, he hears your giggles calling out to his sister. It suddenly feels too hot, which is ironic because that's all he's ever felt—after inheriting the coreflame of Worldbearing, Phainon can only run warm.
"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," Mydeimos says, already getting up and dusting down his pants.
Phainon furrows his brows at the comment. "What does that mean?"
"You've been in this dance of hot and cold since I've met you," the prince shrugs. "You're hot, they're cold. You're perpetually a bumbling mess of poetry, while they remain a straight composure. Laughable, really."
"I am not!" Phainon denies, rising from his seat, taking the wooden sword with him.
Mydeimos only laughs. Filled with mirth and youth that neither of them is familiar with. "Oh, please. You can do better than that."
With a glare, Phainon takes up arms. His pretend blade aimed at his companion as he challenges, "Try me then."
A grin breaks out on Mydeimos's face. He stretches his arms in front of him, cracking the sleeping bones in his neck as he beckons Phainon forward.
"Up and at it, Worldbearing."
"I still don't see why you can't just say it openly," Cyrene admits, her fingers drawing lazy patterns over the blanket across her lap. Phainon can only shift in his seat as he peels an apple for her. Normally, it would be you in his position. But Cyrene has sent you away on an errand with Lady Tribbios, and who was he to deny his sister anything when she rarely asked for it?
He only chuckles nervously, placing another skinless piece on the plate of her bedside table, making sure to avoid the cracking of her porcelain skin when she reaches for it. "You know why, Cyrene."
Surprisingly, she doesn't jump to correct him. That she doesn't, in fact, know he's tiptoeing around the subject. All Phainon is met with is a tentative hum, the sound of her coughing, and the falling of his wooden seat as he jumps to rub soothing circles on her back when she coughs.
"We don't have enough time," he murmurs. Cyrene's hands gripping his chiton with frail strength. The sight of her, so weak and unable to stand on her own as the world breaks and becomes anew, never fails to spark that igniting hatred simmering in the pit of his stomach.
How unfair and cruel this world is to Cyrene, who has done nothing but love it wholeheartedly.
Your name falls gently from her lips when Cyrene pulls away, "They can't wait forever, you know? At some point, in some way, they'll learn the truth. I think it would comfort them greatly if it came from you, Phainon."
His throat runs dry. As if on command at the sound of your name, Phainon looks away. The words sit heavily on his tongue, waiting to run loose and find you. But he has never been good at hide-and-seek; he much preferred tag. It's a much simpler game, no rules or limits—he can run wherever and for however long he wishes. And right now, he wants to run. Back into that village hut where blood remains a foreign concept only known in fairytales and ballads, where swords did not break skin, and where you would come find him and take him home when the sun has decided it no longer wished to see the world.
"Why won't you tell them, Phainon?"
"I can't," he says through gritted teeth, his head falling to Cyrene's shoulder as her arms, as weak as they are, come to embrace him. "I mustn't drag another into this mess."
"Oh, Phainon. It isn't your fault."
He wished to believe that, truly, he did.
But how can a God ascend to divinity without blood drying under the beds of his nails?
News travels fast even without Passage's assistance, you realize. Prophecies, divine readings, these are no foreign subjects to you—you've learned to master them after becoming a demigod yourself. What your goddess has not told you is the lingering panic that will settle in your veins when you hear of them.
"Time has fallen!"
It rings and rings, turning your limbs into stone as the people around you start running. They shout, they cry, they look to you and beg for guidance. You are a demigod—a hand-picked attendant to Time herself—but you offer no consolation. You stay rooted in the market's frenzied state. It's as if your mind has turned into a river of uncertainty, before a pebble drops and shatters the silence like glass.
You run.
You've never been good at tag—never as good as him. Your lungs are too greedy; they ask for air even before you take off. Your legs are not strong; they can't hold out for more than a few minutes, nor can they cross miles as they were just numbers being recorded on parchment. You much preferred hide and seek. A set of rules and a limited time. Because when the final grain drops in the hourglass, you'll know the game is done.
Now you know why Phainon didn't like it so much.
The reaction after stagnation is immediate. You barrel into the temple, into Cyrene's private quarters. Weaving between any and every guard that stands in your way. And when you knock down the elaborate gate that separates you two, you are out of breath, and you are tired.
How cruel a game it is—to believe that even time can run out.
"What have you done…?" you ask, voice breaking as you fall to your knees. The cold marble kisses your skin as tears spill from your eyes. "What have you done to her, Phainon?"
He doesn't reply. Phainon just stares—at the blood, then at the blade in his hand, and then at you.
Your name falls from his lips, waking a trail of cold nerves across your arms as you shake your head, refusing to believe the sight in front of you. "You weren't supposed to be here."
"That wasn't my question. Whether I was or wasn't supposed to be here matters not—!"
"You're supposed to be with Lady Tribbion in the market."
"What have you done to her, Phainon!"
"You weren't supposed to see."
"Answer me!"
"It was supposed to be a secret between us two."
You don't know what compelled you to action. Maybe it was the anger, maybe it was something else. Regardless, you run. Dagger obtained from a hidden pocket in your garments, and you charge. Metal point aimed at Phainon's chest as you toppled him off his feet, the ceremonial blade Cyrene would use in rituals clattering loudly as it fell beside him.
A pained cry leaves you, the dagger aimed high before you can attempt to plunge it into his heart. He stops you—of course he does—by seizing your wrists before you can nick his skin. Tears freely flow from your eyes now. They drop one by one like falling stars onto his cheeks. Now only do you realize the lack of light in Phainon's eyes. He looks like a corpse walking on pure instinct.
"What have you done?" you parrot again, your weapon shaking as you struggle against his strength. "What secret have you been hiding that involves her death! Answer me, Phainon!"
Phainon smiles bitterly, "Time runs out."
"Don't start being philosophical on me now, you wrench."
He can only look away at your words. At his reaction, you can only laugh in grief.
"I thought you hated hide and seek. So why now are you hiding from me?"
"Please don't," he pleads, bottom lip shedding golden blood from how harshly Phainon has been biting down on it. Tears spill from his shadowed eyes with his grip still unyielding on your hands. "Please don't look at me. Not now, not when I've done something you cannot forgive."
"You plead with me now?" Disbelief envelops your voice as it cracks. "Do you take me for a fool? An ignorant attendant who hasn't noticed anything wrong? You think so lowly of me, Phainon, despite claiming the opposite."
"You don't understand."
"Then make me! For the love of god Phainon, please, make me understand."
You've known Phainon for a long time. He was the boy you saw with wooden swords and a blue cape, running the fields amok and leading younger children in 'adventures'. You were more involved with his sister, Cyrene, a girl blessed with reading cards.
"Please, Phainon. We can make this work."
You don't recall ever playing with him, though. He liked his freedom—unrestrained by rules and expectations from games. You were the opposite. You liked the certainty and repetition.
"We have to, Phainon."
He liked your difference. It fuelled his fantasy of being the sunshine to your gloom, the knight to your regent. Never in his life did he think his little play of your romance would turn upside down. Because he was never meant to be the sun, Phainon had too much hate in his heart to be that pure. And he couldn't be a knight; he was too guilty for such a role.
"I'm sorry, but we can't."
Because Gods could no longer play games like tag or hide and seek. Those were activities meant for mortal souls. Neither of you was human anymore. But when gods do decide they want to play pretend—blinded by nostalgia for when they were but a speck of dust in the grand cosmos—it always ends the same.
➵ Notes; This is set in the modern AU! — did y'all know that yearning is Phainon's middle name?
➵ 1.9k Words.
➵ Warnings; possible OOC!
You are the companion to Phainon's bright sun. The moon in an endless sky.
You're the one to ground Phainon in moments of chaos, he is the one to lift you up in moments of sabotage, and both of you carry a light with drastically different intensity, yet actively aid one another to shine the path ahead.
But before you know it, the once warm hand begins to burn.
Phainon's hands are gentle. They always swallow yours in their embrace, even back when the two of you lack the height to reach the kitchen sink. Until now, when the two of you reached beyond your parents shoulders, he still drowns you in his warmth.
It started slowly, but consistent; your heart races every time he's within your proximity, the smiles you share with him has your cheeks heated for hours even long after the two of you went your separate ways, and a brush of skin with him—no matter how subtle—leaves you stiff.
For years, you survived endless teasing from family members and friends regarding your relationship with Phainon. Sometimes their words brushed you the wrong way, even when you knew they never did it out of malice.
Perhaps the words weren't the cause of your stillness, but the weight they carry. The impending realization that you've caught something you cannot avoid nor bury.
You hated it.
But how can you possibly ignore a light within this endless void?
You refrain from naming this feeling you have for him, because ‘in love' sounded shallow. Years spent with him, listening to each other's fears and wishes, and having it be defined in a single word seemed… wrong.
But you do love him. That's a certainty that you have not even a speck of doubt in.
You loved how he lights up the moment he spots you, you loved how loudly he laughs at your jokes—even if they were painfully unfunny—and you loved how his eyes seem to fixate, as if the surroundings have disappeared from his view and only you remain.
He is the sun that greets you at the beginning of every day, while you're the moon that accompanies him in dark nights.
But this… feeling has its grasp over your heart, squeezing every moment you spend by Phainon's side. It didn't sadden you as much as it annoyed you deeply.
You want to stop it. Crush it. Make it disappear.
It ruins your view of the relationship you've had with Phainon. It blurs the lines of platonic affection and more. It makes you stop in your tracks and take a step back.
It doesn't take long for you to deduce that the only cure to all of this is Phainon.
That thought alone has you groaning in frustration.
What is it with humans and their hearts creating problems for themselves?
You're completely satisfied with simply being one of Phainon's closest friends. So why does your heart urge for more?
Why does it place you on a tightrope, expecting you to reach the other side and claim a price when you don't even know if you want it?
Understanding the symptoms all connect to him, you create your own temporary (which hopefully turns permanent) cure; limit your interactions with Phainon. But make sure he doesn't notice.
This medication of yours will be a lifelong one, and to begin this journey of recovery—you stop your usually fast response to Phainon's messages.
First week, you'll let the chat marinate for two hours. Next week, you'll double it to four. The pattern repeats for the upcoming weeks.
Of course, it doesn't take long for Phainon to notice, but this is where being in different schools comes in handy. When he questions, you deny (after letting the message dry for two hours) and reason that school activities have gotten hectic—not a total lie. Phainon seems to understand, but urges you to inform him if anything happens. He's always up to help.
You didn't respond. Leaving him on read. No doubt causing a small crack between the two of you.
It pained you, it really did. But drowning in self-pity will not help the situation, you're committed now—if anything, you don't blame him for leaving after this. It's probably for the best anyway.
After a few weeks of slow responses, each one getting drier.
You take the next step, intensifying this treatment, by avoiding him. Not flatly, but just enough to make it clear that you’re occupied throughout a gathering by hanging around new friend groups, sitting beside another friend, or never letting your side be vacant.
This seemed to deepen the crack, and for the first time you see Phainon's glare be directed towards you. Not with anger, but.. With helpless hope that you'd come up to him, even if just to greet with a smile. His eyes are unable to tear themselves away from your figure, even when it pained him. His hands, tucked by his sides, tremble ever so slightly. Just on the tether of launching forward and just… returning you to his side.
And you waited, curious on what he'd do once he reached his breaking point. Whether he'd march forward or cry on the spot.
Yet, he did neither.
He reciprocated your action, not making an effort to approach you and busied himself, whether by chatting with the old men gathered at a table or listening to gossiping aunties. Anything to keep his gaze away from your figure.
But have you forgotten? Phainon is relentless. And for you? You'll have a bigger chance of escaping a hungry predator than Phainon. But with the way he's walking towards you, he might as well be one.
Once the gathering ends and people are returning to their homes, Phainon manages to catch you by the wrist in a firm grip and kindly asks permission to borrow you from your parents (who are unaware of the turmoil and hands you over with a chuckle).
He takes you to the spot you've spent the majority of your childhood, the big old willow tree. With the same tire swing still hanging off of its branch. Even the wood bark has your initials marked into it by Phainon, a day after the two of you graduated middle school.
“What did I do?” He released his grip on your wrist.
You're quick to answer, “Nothing.”
“Yes, I'm well aware of that. So what is it, [First]?” he's kind enough to not appear as angry as his tone might suggest, especially the way he delivers his questions.
The words fail to reach your tongue and the two of you stand there in silence.
He lets out a heavy breath, “.. Just, please tell me what I did wrong.. I'll apologize for it..” appearing a lot more exhausted yet unwilling to stop his pursuit. “.. I'll fix it.”
The last thing you want is to make a spontaneous confession. “It's really nothing, Phainon.” You look over his shoulder, trying to plan how exactly you'll escape this situation. “I've just been busy with school work.. And there's nothing wrong hanging around new people.”
“I never said anything was wrong with that, what I want to know is what I did.” He takes a step forward, and you can hear the drumming of your heart. Deafening any sound in your vicinity.
“.. [First],” you hate the way his voice softens, carrying your name with this sense of longing. “I don’t—I really don't know what I did this time.. I won't get upset with your answer, whatever it is, just.. Don't leave me in the dark, please.”
Slowly, and hesitantly, his hand grasps the end of your sleeve. His knuckles turn pale from how tightly he's gripping. “.. Talk to me. Let me hear your voice.”
Your medication is proving to be difficult to maintain, and the cure is being dangled right in front of you. “.. I already told you—it's nothing.”
He frowns, but appears more desperate than upset at your repeated answer. “Did something happen? Did someone bother you at school?” his eyes seem to turn sharper at the thought. “[First].. I'm your closest friend. I'm here for you, remember? I'll listen to your every word.”
“I know you will—it's just..” How are you supposed to explain the on-going battle between you and your own heart?!
His hand drifts down to hold yours, his grip unbearably gentle. “Take your time.” He urges you with a nod.
Does he know how weak you are to his eyes? Those blue orbs seem to put a spell on you, one that weakens your resolve which usually ends with him receiving exactly what he wants.
And this is no different.
“.. I—” you stagger back as your head spins with realization of what's about to happen. Phainon’s grip prevents you from losing your balance any further.
“Careful—!”
“I fell for you!” the words spilling out of your mouth in one sharp breath.
The quiet that follows is unbearable. Wind passes by your frozen figures, in hopes of melting away the tension. It was the best sentence you could come up with at the moment—because everything else seems to fall apart the moment they reach your tongue.
Your eyes are unable to stray from the grass standing between your feet.
But a sudden fall snaps your gaze towards him—
Phainon's legs lost their strength, and he dropped down to his knees right before you. His grip remains on your wrist, noticeably shaky and you can feel sweat forming over the surface. His hair hangs over his face as he stares down. Refusing to meet your gaze.
“.. Phainon..?” You call out to him, nervous on what expression his face may hold.
A beat passed before he gradually lifted his head. You're greeted by the sight of his fully red face, the color traveling all the way to the tips of his ears. “.. You—You took me off guard..” He whispers out, forcing out a laugh from his throat.
Heat begins to form over your cheeks. “Can you get up..?”
He pauses for a moment, his gaze falls down before returning to you. “.. I'm afraid not.” Which only deepens the color over his face. Despite that, he tries using his free hand to push himself up but ends up back in his spot when his legs begin to shake. “.. I—I really can't get up..”
“It's—It's fine..” You lower yourself to his level, settling on the grass. Uncaring of the stain it might leave on your clothes. “.. I should probably apologize for the way I've been.. Treating you. And I'll understand if you don't accept my confession. I mean, I wouldn't either cause of how I've been acting these past few weeks—”
Phainon launches himself forward, and successfully causes the words to freeze in your throat as he buries his head in the crook of your neck.
Your body visibly shakes at the closeness, even after years of shared affection—all being platonic—this is the only one to make your heart lurch in its place.
He takes a breath, inhaling your scent as he pulls away but not far. Just enough to stare into your wide eyes. “.. I was supposed to confess first, you know. I've been planning it in my journal since elementary..” He huffs, and you swear a pout is forming over his cheeks. “.. And in order to be forgiven, I have a request..”
Your breath hitch, “.. And that is?”
His eyes narrow as a grin creeps its way to his face. “A kiss would be nice.”
Fanfic writing comes in handy once you realize that torturing your favorite character with the yearning you've suffered from because of them and lowkey self-projecting is really fun. And wow, I enjoyed it a lot more than I realized. (*ˊᗜˋ*)
we, yes WE, want more mizuki content. esp nsfw mizuki content. thank you in advance 🩷
ᥫ᭡ changed my mind
ᯓ★ synopsis mizuki loves making your life harder. especially when he leaves you on the brink just to answer the door.
❀ tags dom mizuki. gn but reader’s on the recieving end (fingering). girl is used but its only cause someone assumed ur gender. condescending mizuki (not rlly degradation its okay guys). bit of jealous n possessive mizuki
divider by saradika-graphics !
“holy shit, don’t stop—“ you barely whimper it out before mizuki retracts his fingers. you could already feel his smirk from behind your shoulder.
you let out a sound between a sob and a growl. he’s been edging you for the past hour and all you wanted to do was feel relief after a long day.
“what is wrong with you?” turning your head, you snarl at his smug expression, feeling even more irritated.
mizuki clicks his tongue, “you know that attitude won’t get you anywhere.” he shakes his head in mock disappointment.
“come on, just— please?” you give in, giving him a pleading face. projecting the neediest and whiney tone, you look up at him. “babe.”
it seems to work a bit, given by the way his eyes soften just a little before he gives your lips a soft peck.
“you want these?” he flexes his hand, slender fingers moving the stickiness around and in between his middle and pointer, almost as if he’s fascinated. “yeah?”
giving him a soft kiss, you nod eagerly, “yes, yes, please give it to me.” you whisper nicely, hoping to sway him even further into giving you what you want.
“so polite.” he snickers, adjusting your position between his thighs, settling you into his chest before he hooks his chin over your shoulder. “my sweet little… whore?” he questions mockingly, like he was testing out a new petname.
“are you? are you my sweet whore, babe?” mizuki goads, kissing the side of your face while you both watch in a trance as his fingers sink back into you. “yeah, you are.”
he snickers quietly at the gasp you let out, curling your hands into the sheets beside his legs.
“my whore.” he kisses your cheek again, spoken with revelation. “my beautiful little slut.” you feel his fingers curl into you after every word, making you lean your head back into his body.
“i love you so much,” he almost moans into your ear. the way he’s almost getting off to the way you’re feeling good lights up a fire in your chest. “cum on my fingers, babe.”
you let out a broken breath, moaning into the air. he’s hitting your spot just right, and you feel yourself almost coming apart.
but right before you could call out to him though, your doorbell rings across the apartment and into the bedroom.
mizuki sighs in slight irritation, fingers suddenly stopping, making you let out a small sob. you were so close.
“wait here, i’ll be quick.”
he moves to get off the bed when you grasp his hand, eyes wet with unshed tears. “i was— i was so… don’t go. please.”
mizuki chuckles softly at your desperation. “it’s the food we ordered. you’d regret it if i didn’t get it.”
you shake your head, not giving any less of a fuck if it was from your favorite restaurant or not. you could only watch him leave the bedroom door open pathetically as he saunters outside in only his shorts.
mizuki ignores the way the delivery guy is taken aback by his appearance, clearly smelling of sex and looking like it too, with his ruffled hair and sweat sheened arms. the only thing he can think of is you, and how you’re probably writhing in restlessness back in the bed.
“got a girl back there?” the dude jokes, feeling awkward while mizuki goes through his pouch for the money.
he probably doesn’t mean anything by it, just a light joke, mizuki thinks. but he can’t help the irrational feeling of wanting to hide you away, to keep you a secret.
what if you order while he’s out one night and it’s this guy again? would he be able to recognize your smell? or remember your apartment number? he can’t help but think.
mizuki doesn’t answer, mood souring at the stranger’s inquiry. he quickly closes the door the moment he grasps the paper bag, leaving the guy with his change. he places it on the counter in a bit of a rush before returning to you.
meanwhile in the bedroom, you could hear them talk, but you’re far too muddled-brain to care. all you could think about was your boyfriend and your small growing grudge at him for denying you.
mizuki plops on the bed as soon as he’s back, “miss me?” he gets an unimpressed glare from you in return. “okay, okay. sorry.” he chuckles.
“i’m getting some of your food.” you grumble while he settles you onto his lap. “takin’… all your meat. and rice.”
he’s unfazed, “no problem.”
mizuki licks his lips before caressing your thighs, peppering kisses on to your chest. he slowly eases his fingers into you, they’re a bit wet since he washed his hands after grabbing the food. he may be freaky, but he’s not unhygienic.
“there you go.” he coos, watching you sigh at the feeling of being full. “this hole missed me? did it?”
“s-shut up.” you groan, still frustrated and annoyed at him.
mizuki kisses the scowl on your face, its wet and messy, just like the way he’s pumping his fingers into you. “calm down, i’m here now.” he placates, forehead resting on to yours.
you yelp when he curles them into the right spot again, hands coming up to grip onto the short black hair connecting to his neck. he groans in response.
“i’ve been so mean to you, haven’t i?” you nod at him, eyebrows furrowed.
mizuki frowns mockingly, “i have? aww… my poor baby.” with his free hand, he sneaks it under your shirt and tweaks a nipple, making you arch into his chest.
“i’ll make it up to you, precious.” he bites your cheek softly, feeling a bit aggressive. he can’t help it if you were being so cute.
“i left you so depraved… only fair if i made you cum—“
you moan into his shoulder, hiding your face when you felt shudders throughout your body.
“oh, already?” mizuki questions, fingers digging into you unrelentlessly. he doesn’t stop pumping it in and out. “you deserve more, babe.”
you shake your head, sobbing while clawing at his back, body feeling overwhelmed. the pain and pleasure was blinding as he places a hand behind you back, rubbing it in comfort.
“i’m not done. you can handle it, right?”
mizuki maneuvers you both on the bed, holding you steady while he fiddles through the drawer next to your bed. he takes out your bullet vibrator and kisses your temple softly, amusement in his eyes when he sees the look of surprise and horror on your face.
“you can take my portion. i’ll even feed it to you. just give me a bit more, okay?”
Summary: you've always pushed your feelings for Mizuki aside to maintain your relationship as it is, but when you get injured, hidden feelings bubble up
— requested by the lovely @clone-force-99 <3 enjoy babes!
froggi yaps -> i love this man sooooo much, once this writers block is over i swear i will write sm more for him :p enjoy!!
“Y’know, if you keep frowning like that, your face will get stuck.”
“Shut up,” you groan. “It will not.”
Mizuki barely manages to dodge the pillow you’ve sent sailing his way, catching it smoothly and resting it back on your bed. He cocks his head to the side, flashing you a toothy grin.
“Feeling violent today, are we?”
You watch him tug his baggy jeans back up over his hips, the harsh lines of his abs disappearing under a layer of denim big enough to fit both of you. They would look ridiculous on anyone else, but on him, they work. The dread sets in when he pulls his shirt over his head.
Your nights with him are always like this.
It starts with a rough night, feelings bubbling up in places they shouldn’t. Anger, frustration, bitterness. Tension. You argue, tease each other, try to do right by the people of Kanezaka. The night gets longer, colder.
The bubble bursts, and like clockwork, every damn time, one of you ends up in the other’s bed.
The hours you spend ruining each other—fucking, cuddling, fucking again—always culminate in this. Him leaving and you watching him go, a four letter word caught on your tongue.
You try to make the best of it, smiling through. “Leaving so soon?”
His head snaps up, mess of white hair falling into his face. “It’s late, I need my beauty sleep.”
Always with the damned jokes and deflections, even though something in his eyes tells you he knows exactly what you’re saying. Damn coward.
“Clearly it’s not working.”
He mocks looking offended. “Do you always fuck guys you think are ugly?”
Hot tension to your throat before you can stop it. The words are sharper than you mean them, harsher, and even after you clamp your hand over your mouth, you can’t stop them.
“Do you always run away from your feelings?”
“What?”
His brows furrow together, confusion written all over his face. It would be cute if your heart wasn’t chipping away at your ribcage, beating so quickly it’s threatening to burst.
You swallow. “Nothing.”
He hesitates, mouth falling open. “What—I don’t understand what you mean by that.”
You’re not entirely sure what you meant by that, either. The moment is dizzying. That usual warm, fuzzy lens you see him through has shattered, leaving behind the harsh shadows and cold air of the night around you.
“Nothing, sorry.” You force a smile, “I’m just bugging you.”
He visibly relaxes, patting your shoulder. “You had me worried there, so serious all the time.”
Something cracks inside your chest, unleashing a torrent of ice through your veins. You shiver, taking a deep breath. He was worried. That you wanted something more, that you wanted commitment.
And the worst part is that you do.
“Goodnight, Mizu.”
A ghost of a blush falls across his cheeks. Embarrassment? Awkwardness? You’re not sure.
“Goodnight.”
The crack in your heart only grows with the slamming of your door.
Your lungs are burning, the air charged with acid and fire. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Every step you take only makes your body ache worse, the wound you’d sustained to your side bleeding more and more. Your hand clamps down further on it, teeth gritted while you try to stop the bleeding. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
It was a peaceful night, quiet and warm and serene. The kind of night you’d stay up late spilling secrets on, that you’d relax on. You were relaxed. Kiriko was not.
She’d been pacing the room, donut in her hand, anxiously rambling about how something doesn’t feel right. Something is wrong, she claimed.
You shrugged her off, “you always say that. The world is not going to end on a Tuesday night.”
But you were wrong.
It started with a quiet robbery. Something that would’ve gone unnoticed til morning. The convenience store would be cleared of its money, leaving the people of Kanezaka unharmed. But the wrong person in the wrong place at the wrong time and the Hashimoto opened fire on unarmed civilians.
Kiriko clocked it immediately, fox hearing making her ears twitch. Within a minute of the sounds of violence, half the Yokai were rushing over to put a stop to it.
That was mistake number two. In your haste to defend the defenseless, you’d gotten separated from the group and shouldered into a crowd of people fleeing the carnage. From there, it was a blur of carnage and bruises and fighting and pain.
You’re not quite sure how you got hurt, what caused the hideous gash in your side. All you know is you’re losing blood fast and the colours around you are starting to dull. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
You round a corner and trip over the toe of your sneakers, sailing through the air and to the unforgiving pavement beneath you. Strong arms catch you before you hit the ground, absorbing your momentum by stumbling backwards.
You blink, their hand is pressing into your aching side. The colour from the world has drained and yet it won’t stop spinning. It just spins and spins and spi—
A harsh tap to your cheek snaps you back to reality. A familiar set of eyes are looking at you beneath the wide brim of a hat, wide and concerned.
“How long have you been hurt like this?”
You swallow, his voice echoey and underwater but comforting all the same. The warmth of his body against yours is enough to soothe your pounding heart. His lips are still moving, opening and closing faster than you can keep track, but the words don’t come out.
“...Mizu?” You murmur, weakly reaching to sweep a strand of white hair from his face.
He catches your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. The world goes dark.
Mizuki’s hands are stained. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t seem to wash the blood away. His skin is raw from the friction, the soap drying out his palms, and yet the blood won’t go away. It covers his clothes, too, now discarded in a bag that will surely never smell the same again.
You’re still unconscious. Healthy, fine, breathing, but unconscious. It chews away at him. He’d healed you as soon as he’d gotten his bearings, Kiriko arriving almost as soon as you passed out. Between the two of them, they’d patched you up and managed to take you home.
Mizuki refuses to think about what would’ve happened if he wasn’t there. Your absence throughout the fight with the Hashimoto had eaten away at him until he couldn’t take it anymore, pulling himself away from the fight. He’d told them—begged them—not to touch you. That you’re strictly off limits.
Clearly someone didn’t get the memo.
The image of you, bleeding and hurt and reaching up for him, is burned into his head. He doesn’t remember the things he said now, the things he did, but he’s not sure a day will ever come where he’ll get the sight of you almost dying out of his mind.
The way you’d said his name so tenderly has been echoing off his skull for hours.
The sound of you stirring snaps Mizuki out of his thoughts, head turning in your direction at superhuman speed. Your eyes are barely open, squinting into the dim light of the night.
“Hello?” Your voice is dry, begging for water, “is someone there?”
“Hey, hey, it’s just me.”
He flushes slightly when he sees you visibly relax, shuffling his way over to you. He’s careful not to crowd you, not to approach too fast and freak you out. He kneels at your bedside so his head is close to being level with yours.
“How are you feeling?”
“I—fine,” you rub your aching temples, “what happened?”
He’s silent for a beat, making that face he always does when he’s contemplating. He’s ditched his hat and uniform now, dressed in a pair of plain sweats and a t-shirt. His hair is a mess as though he’s been tugging on it for hours.
“You—” His voice cracks, something heavy beneath them. “You got hurt. I found you just in time, I-I healed you but…you really had me worried there.”
You see it now, the weight of his worries, his anxiety. The feelings that linger beneath. The same ones you’ve harboured and forced yourself to swallow back.
You reach for his hand, weakly rubbing your thumb over his skin. “Don’t worry about me, Mizu, I’m gonna live forever.”
Your joke doesn’t land the way you hoped, his face stoney and eyes teary. He opens his mouth, tempted to remind you that you came very close to not living tonight, but he doesn’t trust himself not to speak right now. Not when three traitorous words are stuck in his throat.
“I’m sorry.”
He tilts his head slightly, looking at you with hope.
You drop his hand and scooch over in your bed, patting the mattress next to you. “C’mere.”
You don’t have to tell him twice. He climbs in after you, an arm automatically folding over your waist. To have you so close to him, to feel your body move with each breath and hear the thumping of your heart, it’s almost enough to relax him. Almost.
You rest your head against his chest, rubbing your fingers along the seams of his shirt. “I really am okay now, Mizu. I promise.”
“I know that, dummy.”
“Then why do you still look so sad?”
You look up at him with those damned eyes and he melts away bit by bit until all that remains of him is you. He takes a deep breath, hand tracing circles on your side.
“I think I—I love you.”
It’s not the grand spectacle he expected. You don’t kick him out, don’t yell at him, don’t do anything. In the silence, he almost wishes you did because the waiting is the worst part.
And then, like it’s the easiest thing in the world, you smile at him. “I think I love you too.”
He pulls you closer. Maybe this isn’t the worst thing in the world after all.
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thanks for reading & have a wonderful week /ᐠ > ˕ <マ ₊˚⊹♡
The Festival of Beautiful Voices (Phainon x Reader)
Synopsis: During Okhema’s Festival of Beautiful Voices, you expect Phainon to give his usual cheerful opening speech and nothing more. Instead, he spends the week stopping by your stall, smiling too brightly, leaving you flustered… and finally does something bold enough to change everything.
A/N: Hi. :) I’ve been thinking about the Greek muses lately, especially Calliope, the muse of eloquence and epic poetry (and whose name means “beautiful-voiced”). This somehow turned into Phainon being a menace at a city-wide arts festival. I hope it makes you giggle and kick your feet the way it did for me. :)
Tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff. Phainon Is Down Bad. Flirting. Playfulness. Mutual Pining. First Kiss. Public Love Confession/Public Display of Affection. Getting Together. Tenderness.
Word count: 2157
⋆ ✦ ⋆
In Okhema, the Festival of Beautiful Voices arrives with the first warm winds of the season. A week-long celebration dedicated to stories, poetry, song, and the art of language itself. The name comes from ancient scholars who translated the festival’s original purpose generations ago: to honor not just beauty in sound, but beauty in meaning. In expression. In truth spoken aloud.
Stalls line Kephale Plaza in a riot of color and creativity. Painted paper lanterns swaying in the breeze, lacquered pens displayed like precious jewels, delicate music boxes that play when you wind their keys, and homemade pastries that smell like honey and cardamom and home.
Every citizen of Okhema is encouraged to participate, to write something small and honest—a verse, a confession, a gratitude, a prayer—and toss it into the great copper urn that sits in the plaza’s center, waiting to collect the city’s heart in written form.
At Parting Hour on the final day, the most beautiful entries will be read aloud to the gathered crowd.
Phainon is, technically, only supposed to open the festival with a bright morning speech about creativity and joy and the importance of sharing your voice with the world.
A ten-minute commitment at most. Except he has other priorities. Like walking by your stall every single day.
Multiple times.
He does it casually, of course. Or what he thinks is casually. Everyone else in the plaza sees the way his eyes light up the moment he spots you across the crowd, the way his steps unconsciously quicken when he’s heading in your direction, the way he “forgets” entire obligations if you so much as wave at him.
The Chrysos Heirs have a running joke about it. Someone keeps count of how many times per day he finds an excuse to pass your stall. (Current record: seven times in one afternoon.)
Today is no different.
You’re adjusting a stack of parchment, trying to make your display look somewhat organized despite the persistent wind, when his shadow falls across your table.
“Good morning.” His voice is soft and bright at once, and it makes something warm flutter in your chest every single time.
You look up to find him standing there with that smile. The one that’s somehow both innocent and disarming, like he has no idea what he does to people when he looks at them like that.
“Your hair looks beautiful today.”
You nearly drop the ink jar you’re holding. “My—what? Phainon, it’s windy. I look like I’ve been wrestling with the weather.”
“Yes,” he says with absolute sincerity, eyes soft and warm as they trace your face. “It suits you. The wildness. The way the light catches it. Very heroic.”
“Heroic.” You can’t help but laugh. “You’re calling my disaster hair heroic?”
“I’m calling you heroic,” Phainon corrects gently, and there’s something in his voice that makes your breath catch. “The hair is simply doing its best to keep up.”
You open your mouth to say something clever or deflecting or anything at all, but he’s already glancing at your displayed items with the earnest curiosity of someone who will absolutely buy anything you recommend just because you’re the one selling it.
“What’s today’s theme?” Phainon asks, leaning slightly on your table in a way that brings him just a little bit closer.
You gesture at the sign you hand-lettered at dawn, fingers still faintly stained with ink:
WRITE ABOUT SOMETHING YOU CHERISH.
Phainon reads it slowly, lips moving slightly with the words. Then he nods, and you watch with fascination as a faint flush creeps up his neck and colors his cheeks.
Faintly, but definitely there.
“I like that,” he murmurs, voice going softer. More private, despite the crowd around you. “It’s honest. Direct. It leaves room for truth.”
You arch a brow, trying to ignore the way your pulse is doing interesting things. “Will you write something?”
He smiles. Boyish and bright and completely unfair.
“If I do,” Phainon says slowly, eyes dancing with mischief, “I may cause a minor uproar.”
“Overconfident much?”
He laughs, the sound bright and unguarded. “Just realistic. I’ve been told I can be intense when I care about something.”
“Intense,” you repeat, fighting a smile.
“Passionate?” he offers, tilting his head. “Sincere? Unwavering?”
“Now you’re just showing off.”
“Maybe a little.” He leans in closer, voice dropping to something warmer, more intimate. “Is it working?”
Your face heats. “That depends. Are you actually going to write something, or are you just here to flirt with the stall vendors?”
“Can’t I do both?” He’s grinning now, completely unrepentant. “Besides, I‘m only flirting with you.“
“Phainon—”
“Alright, alright.” He straightens, hands raised in playful surrender. “I’ll let you work. But…” He pauses, and suddenly the teasing edge softens into something more genuine. “I’ll see you tonight? At the readings?”
The way he asks is not casual, ot even remotely subtle. There’s hope in it. Anticipation. Like your answer actually matters to him in a way that goes beyond friendly interest.
Your pulse skips without permission. “Yes,” you say softly, unable to look away from his eyes. “I’ll be there.”
He beams, actually beams, like you’ve just told him the best news he’s heard all week.
Then he forces himself to step back before he becomes suspiciously obvious to the entire plaza. “Good. Wonderful. Perfect.” He’s backing away now, still smiling. “Have a beautiful day. Not that you need the wish—you make it beautiful just by existing in it—but still.”
And with that parting line, delivered so sincerely you nearly forget how to breathe, Phainon disappears into the crowd.
Leaving you standing there with ink-stained fingers and a racing heart and absolutely no ability to focus on customers for the next hour.
Your day becomes ridiculous after that. Half actually selling things, half replaying his words in your mind and wondering what he meant by “minor uproar.”
You find out at Parting Hour.
The plaza is full. Lanterns glow like suspended stars, casting warm golden light across a sea of faces. Families and couples and friends all gathered to hear the most beautiful words Okhema has to offer.
The great copper urn has been filled all week with folded papers, secret confessions, tender verses, and now the time has come for the appointed volunteers to read the best entries aloud.
Except...
Except Phainon steps onto the stage himself.
A ripple passes through the plaza like wind through wheat.
Whispers start immediately.
Phainon?
Why is he…?
He’s supposed to be in the audience.
Does he have an entry?
You feel your stomach drop and soar in the same breath, heart suddenly pounding so hard you can hear it over the crowd.
He holds a single folded slip of paper. Not taken from the urn. Not selected by volunteers. Written by him. Recently, if the crispness of the fold is any indication.
“This,” Phainon says, and his voice carries with that natural ease of someone born to be heard but choosing to be gentle anyway, “was not part of the official program. But I thought…” He pauses, smile tugging at his lips. “Perhaps it would fit the theme.”
People laugh softly, fondly, because this is Phainon and everyone loves him and he could probably read a grocery list and they’d be charmed.
But you can barely breathe.
He unfolds the paper with careful fingers, and for just a moment, his eyes find yours across the crowd.
The look in them makes your knees weak.
Then he begins to read:
“There is a person in Okhema
whose laughter stays with me long after they walk away.
Whose voice steadies me when I falter,
whose presence makes colors brighter,
food sweeter,
and every task worth doing.
If stories are meant to capture what we cherish,
then you should know this:
The thing I cherish most
is the way they look at me—
not as a hero,
not as a symbol,
not as a role to fulfill—
but simply theirs.
And how I hope,
with everything I am,
that I might be.”
A hush falls over the plaza. Complete. Absolute. Breathless.
Then…Gasps. Soft murmurs of delight.
People turning to look for whoever he means, craning necks and whispering excitedly because Phainon just confessed publicly and everyone wants to know who captured the heart of Okhema’s most beloved hero.
Phainon, meanwhile?
He folds the paper with exquisite calm, like he didn’t just set the entire plaza on fire with his words. Then he walks straight toward you.
Not hurried. Not hesitant. Not shy in the slightest.
The crowd parts for him like water, people gasping and pointing and oh-ing as they realize who he’s walking toward, and you…
You are standing frozen beside your stall, lantern-light painting gold across your stunned face, when he reaches you.
“Phainon—” you manage, voice thin and breathless.
He stops in front of you, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off him, close enough to see the way his eyes are soft and bright and full of something that makes your chest ache.
“You’re flushed,” he observes with gentleness, reaching up to brush his knuckles against your burning cheek. “Did my words embarrass you?”
“Embarrass?!” Your voice comes out strangled. “You just—you declared—you did that in front of everyone—!”
And then he smiles like he’s been waiting all festival to answer that exact question.
“Because I meant it.” His voice drops to something intimate, meant only for you despite the hundreds of people watching. “Every word. Every sentiment.”
His thumb traces your cheekbone. “And because I’m tired of pretending I don’t think about you every moment of every day. Because you deserve to know. Because keeping it hidden felt like lying, and I don’t want to lie about how I feel about you.”
Your breath catches audibly.
“And also,” Phainon adds, eyes dancing with mischief, “because I wanted to kiss you in front of the entire city so no one would ever doubt that you’re mine.”
“Phainon—”
“May I?” he whispers, and suddenly his forehead is nearly touching yours, his breath warm against your lips. “Please?”
You nod. Or maybe you breathe yes. Or maybe your body just sways toward him like gravity has decided he’s the only thing worth holding onto.
Something gives permission.
Phainon leans in, closing the last inches between you with a reverence that makes your knees weak, and kisses you.
Soft at first. Testing. Careful, like he’s afraid you might pull away, like he’s savoring every second of finally, finally getting to do this.
Then deeper when you melt into him, your hands finding his chest for balance, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close. Warmer. Fuller. Like every emotion he’s been holding back is pouring into this single perfect moment.
The plaza erupts around you.
Applause and cheers and delighted laughter and whistles and someone shouting “FINALLY!” loud enough to be heard over everything else.
Phainon breaks the kiss only when you’re both breathless, lips swollen and eyes dazed, and presses his forehead to yours.
“Now,” he murmurs, smiling like sunlight incarnate, “the festival theme feels complete.”
You can only stare at him, dazed and flushed and completely overwhelmed. “I can’t believe you did that.”
Phainon laughs softly, stealing another quick kiss. “I call it artistic expression.”
“Phainon—”
Another kiss, this one to the corner of your mouth.
“And next time?” His eyes gleam with playful promise. “I plan to win the festival outright.”
You laugh. Helplessly, joyfully, because of course he does. Of course he’s already planning next time. Of course he’s competitive even about public declarations of affection.
“You’re ridiculous,” you tell him.
“Mm.” He kisses you again, deeper this time, uncaring of your audience. “Ridiculously in love with you, perhaps.”
Your heart stops. Restarts. Races.
“You—”
“Yes,” Phainon says simply, pulling back just enough to look at you properly. “I am. Completely. Hopelessly. Have been for months, actually. I figured you knew.”
“I didn’t—how would I—”
“The daily visits? The compliments? The way I literally can’t function when you’re nearby?” He’s grinning now. “I thought I was being obvious.”
“You were being friendly.”
“I was being entranced,” Phainon corrects.
And then he kisses you again under the lanterns while the whole plaza celebrates “beautiful voices,” and yours and his finally, finally belong to each other.
Later, when the crowd has dispersed and you’re walking home with his hand warm in yours, you ask:
“Did you really mean it? About being in love with me?”
Phainon stops walking. Turns to face you. Cups your face in both hands with such tenderness you could cry. “I meant every word,” he says softly. “And I’ll spend every day proving it if you’ll let me.”
You kiss him instead of answering.
And his smile against your lips tells you he understands perfectly.
⋆ ✦ ⋆
A/N: Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. :) Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. :)
part of my 10 week celebration party for reaching 100 followers!*
just reader being completely oblivious to phainon’s raging crush on them and dismissing his personal feelings, unaware to what it all means truly.
everyone in okhema wholeheartedly believed that phainon was the oh so great and large deliverer, there was no doubt about it. but they also believed that as the great deliverer he greatly loved and acted with his whole soul, mind and body.
so why is it that such a fact, a belief - easily and significantly flew over your head, especially when you seemed to be the root cause of evidence that ‘scientifically’ supported the said belief.
multiple instances have demonstrated to the people of okhema and the chrysos heirs that phainon was utterly down bad for you, it was fully justified when you would hesitantly call for him, or request him of something.
the great deliverer would drop everything in order to be the first and only (as if someone else dared) person who was able to respond to you.
yet, through it all it seemed that you had decided that for all he does for you, it was purely a ‘friendly’ gesture and not at all an advance towards a more intimate relationship status with you.
‘these are for you!’
turning around from the fruit stall, you were met face to face with a massive bouquet of your favourite flowers with phainon hiding behind them.
shyly trying to hope that you wouldn’t register the massive blush he had coating his features, but of course you wouldn’t. you were too busy distracted by how large and beautiful the flowers were.
‘aww, phainon! you shouldn’t have-‘ feeling yourself get cut off by how he pushed the bouquet into your open arms. all while the large framed man was deduced to utter putty under your gaze.
scratching the back of his neck as he looked everywhere but at you and to ease his nerves. ‘it’s really nothing, don’t even worry about-‘
only for you to cut him off in the same manner, playing with a few petals as you thought about where you’d place the bouquet into your house.
‘i can’t belive you remembered it was best friends day!’
and as cringey as that sounded, nothing could have made phainon anticipate the way his face fell at the state of your smiling face and the words you just spoke.
you weren’t even looking at him when you said that!
and well okay, i guess sure, why not stare at the massive bouquet that your ‘best friend’ bright you to celebrate the forsaken ‘best friends day’?
of all the ways phainon thought this would have played out this was not one of them, like did you really blame him if he thought this was going to get him atleast a kiss on the cheek like the ones he had seen you giving a few kids yesterday when they brought you a stray flower.
a small peck if you were feeling squeamish at the thought of pda infront of everyone, but this…
clearing his throat with a cough to clear his head of the thought of just grabbing you and kissing you, the act was able to also capture your attention as you to turned to look at him.
he sighed apprehensively at the situation he had put himself into and had to accept with the way your innocent eyes stared into his.
‘yea… their for best friends day!’ gritting his teeth with the mention of the last phrase.
‘thank you phainon.’ saying it with a sing-song lilt to your voice, thinking that the conversation was over and with sending him a beaming smile, turning to continue with your errands with a massive bouquet on your shoulders.
unbeknownst to the general public’s feelings and phainon’s. with you out of sight from his vision and further from the dream he wishes he could turn into reality, phainon felt a heavy arm sling itself across the expanses of his large shoulders.
one that could only go par to par with him, turning to the side to see mydei’s all knowing face holding onto an indifferent expression as he stared at the sight of you several meters away from them, enjoying your day as usual and conversing with onlookers. calmly stating to him.
‘seems like your gesture was accepted on the wrong foot.’ calmly stating as if this was something he had expected and foreseen ‘cycles’ earlier.
which in turn only forced phainon to let out a defeated grunt and have him try to pry off mydei’s unsupportive arm away from where it rested in his shoulders.
this surprised the latter. mydei was familiar to phainon’s distinctive appearance and emotional reactions when it came to you… but this, this was different.
he rarely ever looked so - defeated. if that was the right term to place the way he saw him when he narrowed his eyes at how you seemed to walk in a different direction and where phainon had turned his back from you, he realised that this time it was more than fleeting disappointment phainon was feeling.
this must have felt like an utterly cruel rejection to end his advances, and mydei was none the wiser to try and get him to think that was the truth.
following suit behind him, he mirrored his earlier actions and wrapped his arm around his shoulders.
‘oh great deliver, what about a spar to ease your mind.’
and mydei knew him better than anyone else, for phainon’s melancholic expression had seemed to slightly shift towards pleasant surprise at the request of the prince of castrum kremnos.
‘i mean is it crazy to say that i thought she liked me back?’ staggering in his movements as he put more room into concentration over you, rather than the brooding man infront of him who kept on attacking at his weak defenses.
he wasn’t even trying and to mydei the spar that he had thought was meant to clear phainon of his thoughts of you, only left him at a capacity where he thought this was a let’s discuss name therapy session.
at some point, phainon deliberately plunged his great sword into the training grounds and leaned over it to continue his one sided conversation about the lack of progress he had when courting you.
‘like did you even know it was best friends day today?’ scoffing to himself as he looked at the bright sun. at this point more so speaking to the sky than mydei himself, leaving the rhetorical question up in the air.
which in turn got mydei to roll his eyes with a heavy sigh at his friend’s ministrations and walk out of the training grounds to leave phainon to his own thoughts.
it’s not like this was his area of expertise and he was sure that any point in time where he tried to interject and provide his opinions - phainon would only cut him off to provide his own perspectives towards his doubts and questions.
passing through the gates of the training grounds, he made swift notice of aglaea’s form entering into the vicinity of the training grounds.
sure that if there was one person who could help phainon wake up from this stupid unrequited love spell, it must have been her. unaware to the presence following behind aglaea as he thought about his own priorities and duties.
and to aglaea, from what she could ‘see’ under her thingy veiled gold threads, phainon was purely and utterly disheartened as he leaned his frame and sat on the ground using his sword as a support for his back.
quietly ruminating over the newest and profound rejection from you, so deep in thought that the great deliverer who was more aware of his surroundings on other days had yet to notice the romantic figure of aglaea moving towards him and a certain other party that was the reason for his heartache.
i mean can you really blame him if he thought that you’d get the hint by now?
first it was during one of the festivals in okhema that was meant to celebrate love and romance with aglaea at the forefront. he thought that him inviting you as his plus one was already a sure bet that he was professing his feelings in some way.
only for you to end up celebrating it with him and dismissing his feelings and your own as feelings of mutual respect and ‘friendship’.
and now that he remembers the whole friendship ideology between you two, he thinks the whole thing is just a social construct that makes it more difficult for you two to be together.
it’s not like he doesn’t value your ‘friendship’ with him, he just wishes that sometimes it wasn’t the root excuse that creates all of his rejections and becomes an obstacle to what could have been.
but then… maybe it wasn’t merely ‘friendship’ that stopped him from being with you.
maybe it was you.
you who probably saw all the signs but decided to ignore them and lay him down gently all these times under the guise of ‘friendship’.
you who probably didn’t reciprocate his feelings and felt like you couldn’t tell him.
you who probably must’ve have felt uncomfortable with each time he had the courage to speak up to you and channel his feelings of intimacy and love to you.
but what phainon couldn’t fathom at this point, even when you were simply right there behind him, wanting to act as a better support to his troubles than the great sword he was was leaning on could hardly do.
was that you were hopelessly and completely lovestruck to him, just as he was to you. you just assumed that his endless implicit confessions were plainly put - ‘friendly gestures’.
so slowly as he talked to himself and later noticed aglaea behind him, using her as his new ear to hear all the ridiculous things you had put him through.
as they conversed with infront of you, with his back facing the both of you and his mind unable to capture the sight of you. he went down the road of saying everything and all of it at once, thinking that you were probably never going to hear from him again after what had happened today.
‘aglaea, i’m no expert romancer but hardly anyone could have guessed that i’m in love with name.’
and with the latest confession it seemed that somewhere between the cycles, it seemed that fate was on phainon’s side for once. looking between the two chrysos heirs with aglaea being the one you looked at for actual confirmation to what you had just heard.
with her nodding to give you the go ahead that what you heard was in fact true. you were completely shocked at, but even more so to the fact that all the times you kept on acting oblivious to your own feelings, you had also been oblivious to his.
sighing to yourself at the whole ordeal with a faint smile, you looked over to aglaea who retracted her form to give the both of you some space at the new revelation.
phainon had quieted down now after his recent proclamation, and was lost in thought about how he was to try and get himself to forget about you and give up on this endless war of love.
albeit some part of his golden heart told him that he was to still cling onto the thing threads of fate.
crouching down to sit side by side to phainon who was still unaware to your presence, you sat on the same ground that he had been using as a companion for his mid-day admissions about you.
‘well maybe if you had said that from the first place i wouldn’t have looked so stupid.’
you finally quirked up with a bright smile gracing your features, as phainon was left speechless, turning to his side to see you sitting next to him.
embarrassed yet cautious to how you were reacting right now, he felt himself feeling a bit hot and bothered at how long you could have been here the whole time he was complaining about you.
either way though, as he assessed his surroundings and how you hadn’t yet fled for the gates of okhema after everything he said and instead were sitting next to him. then maybe, just maybe you also liked him back.
and it wasn’t until you decided to be bolder did he actually come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t just hallucinating or dreaming about you.
‘sooo, are you just going to stare at me the whole time?’ you mentioned, making him look towards you again with a confused expression.
‘…or finish your earlier conversation about wanting to kiss me?’
feeling yourself giggle at how he had quickly switched and captured the gravity of the situation, turning to grab your face and do just as what he had said before.
because as the great deliverer, isn’t it his role to deliver.
authors note:
nothing too angsty or emotionally heavy, also first fic of the celebration party!
- and i couldn’t be happier with what were celebrating as well like omfg 100 followers?! it’s unbelievable to me that i’ve hit triple digits when going into this i expected to writer just for me, myself and i😭
but it’s really beautiful and i love the tight knit ‘community’ that has come about from people interacting and supporting my works! it really does mean a lot and i can’t thank you enough.
Phainon X Fem. Reader
Summary: In which, you are Phainon's destiny, his beginning and end.
Set in Amphoreus, a world untouched by war, where no Deliverer is needed, no Chrysos Heirs remain.
Just you. Just him.
And a paradise, flawless and eternal.
Word Count : 4.2 K (😭)
Chapter 1 : Sunset Promises
The warm light of the sun hit the blue haired boy's face.
He was sitting on a hillside meadow, gazing quietly as the sun dipped below the horizon.
He took a slow breath, letting the breeze wash over his skin.
Then, he turned around to face the person sitting beside him. The girl with beautiful (E/C) eyes, (H/C) hair and a smile that could rival the stars.
Her eyes shone with the same happiness he had always remembered. It's sight had quickly become one of the most comforting things in his life.
He leaned towards her, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. ".... I promise you, I will be the hero of this world."
You tilted your head to look at him, observing him with a curious smile.
"I look forward to it, Phainon."
The sun finally disappeared, and darkness spilled across the sky like ink.
And thus another cycle had just began.
Chapter 2 : Time For A Deliverer
Phainon was walking through the bustling streets of Okhema beside (Y/N) that day.
It had been years since that incident. And though he once believed he was born to be a hero...
The chance to prove it never came.
Amphoreus remained peaceful.
There was no war to stop. No world to save.
The need for a deliverer never arrived.
They had come to Okhema to visit their friend Mydei. A hot headed individual who was truly a softie deep down.
Phainon watched as his lover hopped between shops with wide-eyed wonder, her excitement bubbling like a child's.
"Aedes Elysiae is a beautiful place," she murmured, smiling, "but I swear Okhema is something else."
"If you like it so much," Phainon said, walking beside her, maintaining her pace "we can visit whenever you want."
The girl turned to him. "I'll go wherever you go." she cheekily spoke.
He looked at her for a long moment. His steps slowed. His gaze distant.
"...Will you, though?" the words slipped out before he could stop them.
You blinked, as if suddenly you had forgotten what to say. He watched as your lips parted to speak, but no voice came out.
Suddenly the whole world glitched, and so did you. But Phainon remained unfazed. He had seen this countless times. In his quest to create the perfect world, mistakes like these were normal.
He just had to redo everything all over again.
Chapter 3 : Sunset Promises
The sun dipped into the horizon, again.
Phainon watched with exhausted eyes, shoulders slumped as the golden light kissed his skin.
How long has it been? He had already forgotten.
He would have given up a long time ago. But the small chance of seeing your smile kept him going.
He turned his head towards you, the same pair of eyes and hair greeting his sight again. Just how he remembered.
He took a breath, reciting the lines he been uttering for years "... I promise I will be the hero of this world."
You turned around and smiled "I look forward to it, Phainon."
Chapter 4 : The One Lie That Lived
You didn't remember when you were born. The earliest memory you had was of sitting on the meadow with Phainon.
Everything before was a blur. A faint, non-existent memory that you couldn't piece together.
But it didn't matter. You were leading a happy life, a life with your lover, kind friends and a mostly peaceful family.
Wait, what was the name of your sibling again?
Anyway.
All that didn't matter.
Then when was it? When was it that you realized something was terribly wrong?
Was it when you had forgotten what to say, or the time Castorice's face morphed into nothing? Or when Okhema crumbled into dust? Or the time when..............
There were so many incidents. Too many cracks. It was all too weird.
That's when you gained consciousness, and understood.
This world, isn't real.
But you’re not like the others.
You can think.
You can question.
You can remember—
…well, parts of it.
So maybe, just maybe,
You’re the only real thing here.
Chapter 5 : Sunset Promises
The sun dipped into the horizon again, like it always did.
'This time' you thought 'I will find out the truth of this world'
You tilted your head towards your 'lover'. You had already recognized the routine. He would stare at the sun and then turn to you, muttering about how he will be the hero of this world.
And so as usual, Phainon turned to look at you. However the sight made your heart squirm with unease.
His eyes weren't looking at you, not really—they were gazing at something behind you, beyond you.
Tired eyes. Eyes that had seen this too many times.
And then he spoke.
".....This time."
The world came to a sudden pause, you could feel the wind stop blowing, the leaves stop falling and the birds go silent.
It was as if the world had come to a screeching halt.
"This time, I want to be your hero, your savior."
Your eyes widened, a heavy aching feeling bubbling inside your chest.
This.... This wasn't how it was supposed to go. His words and mannerisms were all jumbled up.
You had already guessed this world wasn't real, and perhaps the people in it weren't real too. But this? This changed everything.
"Who.... Who are you?" you moved away from Phainon, who didn't seem surprised at your reaction.
"Ah, I shouldn't have said that..."
With a sigh he snapped his fingers. The whole world around you going instantly dark. You couldn't feel your limbs anymore.
It felt like drowning in silence. Like the universe had been switched off and was quietly rebuilding again.
You desperately tried to reach out to something, but there was nothing around you.
You closed your eyes, hoping for the terrible feeling to go away.
And when you opened your eyes again.
You were back at the meadow.
The sun was dipping down into the horizon.
With Phanion sitting by your side.
Chapter 6 : Line Between Dream And Reality
Your breath came out in short gasps, your mind still trying to piece together the the horrifying experience from before.
You could still feel it. The choking dark. The suffocating silence. The nothingness had crawled into your bones, and it was still there, even now, beneath the light of the sun.
"...(Y/N)?" Phainon's confused voice called out to you, snapping you out from your thoughts.
Before his hand could touch yours, you pulled back.
This person in front of you, was he even Phainon?
You searched his eyes, for animosity, for hate... yet all you found was worry.
But you couldn't trust him, not yet.
"I ask again, who are you?" your voice was weak, but it held a strange sense of determination.
A flicker of something passed over his face, guilt? Fear? Or was it just weariness?
He didn't answer right away. He just stared at you like he was seeing a ghost.
He seemed.... Stunned.
"... W-What did you just say?" he quickly leaned towards you, perhaps wanting to hear your voice clearly.
"Who are you Phainon, if that is even your real name?" you spoke again, this time with even more conviction.
He blinked, still staring at your face. He gently pressed his palm on his cheek, checking if he was just dreaming.
The lines of dream and reality were blurring quickly in his life after all.
"Answer me." you demanded.
With a sigh of disbelief he leaned back, his whole demeanor immediately going cold. Almost Distant.
It was like the façade he had put on for so long had finally come crashing down.
After what seemed like an eternity he answered.
"Does it matter?"
Chapter 7 : I Am Tired Of Remembering You
You simply looked at him, confused.
Who was this person in front of you?
He was a stark contrast to the Phainon you were familiar with. The one who laughed, the one who dreamed loud, the one who made promises beneath the sunset.
But maybe..... Maybe you always knew, but chose to turn a blind eye.
Upon your silence Phainon scoffed. He tilted his gaze away from yours, perhaps he was afraid, or maybe he was just tired. Probably both.
".... You were always too perceptive (Y/N)."
"Were?"
The word slipped from your mouth before you could stop it.
He froze.
His entire body went still, as if time had paused for just a second too long.
"... Phainon.... I.... I am real right ?"
A flicker of anguish passed through his eyes before he quickly smothered it, returning his expression to the usual stoic veneer.
He had uttered something he shouldn't have, but he continued, his voice a low, gravelly murmur.
"Yes. You’re real."
You stared at him.
Watched every flicker of muscle.
The shift in his gaze.
The slight furrow in his brow.
The subtle scratch of his palm.
The tremble in his hands.
Lies.
It was clear. So painfully clear.
Your lover,
Phainon,
was lying.
Chapter 8 : Slowly Slipping Out Of Control
"It’s always been obvious when you lie, Phainon."
You laughed. A quiet, broken laugh—because what else could you do? Your mind was already fraying at the seams. All that was left was this absurd, cruel joke.
He quickly took hold of your wrist, forcing you to face him. His fingers were trembling.
He was afraid, if he let go of you now, you might slip away...... Just like you did before.
"I am not lying to you (Y/N)." he pleaded.
His hands rose to your face, cradling it gently, as if he could force the lie into reality by holding you long enough.
As if touch could erase truth.
But you only laughed again.
A bitter sound.
Not unkind, but full of tired irony.
"Please.....Believe me.... You're real....." he barely choked out the sentence.
His head dropped, hair falling over his eyes, trying to hide the tears welling there. Years of exhaustion was finally catching up to him.
And then he felt a cold sensation touch his shoulder, even if it seemed distant, it was still comforting.
Then came your voice.
"Why are you lying to yourself Phainon?" it was your voice. The voice he swore he would never forget.
As he turned his head up, he saw you, with a warm smile on your face. Your previous agony was nowhere to be seen.
In place of it was just a calm, inviting smile. That smile brought a sharp, pricking pain to his heart—the kind that made it hard to breathe.
"How long do you want to subject yourself to this endless cycle of pain?" you stared down at him, questioning him.
He just held your gaze, his eyes wide and conflicted, clinging to the silence like it was all he had left.
And he knew.
He knew.
He couldn’t control this anymore.
Not the world.
Not you.
Not even himself.
Chapter 9 : A Desperate Attempt To Cling To Light
"Even if I answer you, how will it matter?" Phainon finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper.
You didn't flinch. You only smiled—calm, knowing. As if you already understood everything, but had chosen to pretend.
"Tell me the truth, Phainon," you asked gently. "Is this world real?"
Your voice was soft.
Kind even.
Not accusatory, not cruel.
Just patient, like you'd already accepted the answer
".......No" he mumbled, tears already streaming down his eyes. The response physically hurt him so much to utter.
He felt like someone had pierced his heart again and again, wanting him to feel the worst of pains forever.
He looked away, ashamed of the truth he'd carried for so long.
Ashamed of how tightly he'd clung to the lie.
He had gotten used to it, hadn't he?
This world.
This peace.
This love.
He had started believing it all, desperately, hopelessly, until the illusion became his reality.
You put your hand on his shoulder, silently coaxing him to continue.
"All this," he said.
"....is all just an illusion." he ended.
But it wasn't for you.
He wasn't speaking to you anymore. He was finally speaking to himself.
You.
His friends.
The streets of Okhema.
The sunsets. The laughter. The promises.
Were all fake.
Carefully fabricated lies.
Only he was real.
The last fragment of truth left in a world built on crumbling memories and grief.
And that,
That hurt more than anything.
Because he didn't want to be the one who survived.
He wished it had been you.
He would've given anything, everything even, to have you be the one alive.
But fate had already been written.
And this world?
This world was just the aftermath.
A dream forged from desperation.
A graveyard of thoughts shaped like a life that could never be.
A simulation of happiness, stitched together in the form of fleeting comfort.
Chapter 10 : Shattering Dream
Phainon was sobbing into your arms, his fingers clutching tightly at your shirt as if letting go would mean losing you forever.
You were his anchor. Even if you were fake. You were his only way of salvation.
He could depend only on you.
Not himself, but you.
You held him quietly, your hand running gentle circles along his back, allowing his grief to pour out freely. His sobs were raw, heavy, soaked in years of denial.
"Phainon." you finally spoke, breaking the tranquility.
"I'm not real either... am I?"
There was a smile on your face.
A beautiful, peaceful smile.
As if this truth didn't hurt you.
As if you'd always known.
Because you had.
You'd just been waiting for 'Phainon' to catch up.
Phainon's entire frame tensed. His breath caught. And when he finally pulled back to look at you, the misery in his eyes was unbearable.
He didn't want to admit it.
He could accept the world was fake. The people. The sky. The time loops.
But not you.
Never you.
He still wanted to live in the serene dream he had crafted with trembling hands.
To fix it. Perfect it.
Make it so you could be together forever, just as you were meant to be.
He had tried for years.
Dozens of iterations. Hundreds of versions.
Searching for the cycle where he could save you. Where he could hold you. Where he could grow old and die at your side.
Where none of this would end in tragedy.
"You..." he began, voice hoarse and trembling. "I wish you were real."
He paused, swallowing hard. "Yet..."
And then,
The color drained from the meadow.
The sun slowly disappeared.
And everything turned into nothing.
Just grayscale memories and dying light.
"You're already dead."
You took a breath, a smile on your lips when he finally admitted it. This, this was the beginning of the first step.
"You..... Are just a creation of my memories"
Chapter 11 : Again
"A world built upon your memories..." You started, a somewhat proud smile on your face "You've come a long way Phainon"
He blinked. That wasn't what he expected. He thought you'd be angry. Hurt. Cold.
Not this. Not... praise.
".....How are you not furious?"
You simply stared at him. You had never thought of being angry.
"Let's forget about that for a moment." you hummed, turning your head to gaze at the now dark void. "So all this is just a simulation?"
Phainon gulped, already uncomfortable at where this conversation was going. "Yeah."
Your mind ran back through the strange, familiar patterns. The resets. The déjà vu. Every time something went wrong, he'd start over. Even the most minor of mistakes led to him redoing everything again.
You sighed. Phainon, really was messed up.
"I just realized," you turned to look back at him, a strange sense of coldness in your voice. "You're pathetic."
The words hung in the air like a knife.
Phainon's eyes widened, his grip on your wrist tightening. His lips pressed into a thin line, while his whole body tensed. Rage simmering just beneath the surface.
How dare you?
He laughed, a bitter, broken sound.
"Pathetic? Perhaps. But what does that make you?" His voice was cruel. "You are just a collection of my memories, a ghost that I can't let go of." he yelled out his words. A sharp, twisted feeling growing inside his chest.
He needed to say this. He couldn't keep it burying inside anymore.
He leaned towards you, his eyes tinged with a sense of desperation and madness. "....and yet I cling to you. Why (Y/N)? Why do you keep lingering?"
His grip was crushing now, but you remained unfazed.
"Is it taunt me? To mock me? or to remind over and over again that you're already dea-" he paused, just as he was about to end his sentence.
You scoffed, pressing your finger on his chest and pushing him back. "It's you who can't let go Phainon. Remember I'm your memory"
Phainon didn't deny your words. He knew the truth, no matter how hard he tried to turn a blind eye.
".......I know." he whispered.
Your gaze softened, just a little.
"But I can't.....I can't let you go. Again"
You sighed, holding his trembling hands in yours. And he felt that cold rush of unreality seep back in. The artificial comfort. The simulated warmth.
The ache of what would never be real again.
"The concept of 'Again' is futile Phainon...."
"I'm already dead."
Chapter 12 : Obsession Or Love?
"Tell me then, do you wish to replay every cycle? To relive the pain each time."
'This is absurd' he thought. Of course he didn't want pain. All he ever wanted was to be happy with you.
"No?" His voice was quiet, guilty.
Once he started this endless cyclicity, he knew, anguish and regret would be constant companions.
That was the price of this paradise.
His jaw tensed, he felt as if he was staring at a mirror showing all his flaws in all its glory.
He felt dirty, ugly. Filthy.
"Then let this go." you stated, a simple statement. But it shattered him like a hammer to glass.
"Let you go?"
No.
Never.
He would never do that.
Letting you go meant the dream would end.
It meant the pain would end, yes... but so would you.
He would remain stubborn. Prideful. Broken.
Even if you were fake.
Even if you defied him.
He would never let you go.
"Everything has already met its end," you ran your fingers through his hair "If you really want to let go of this pain, let me go."
"No."
His eyes snapped up to meet yours, a cold defiance in them.
His fingers trailed up your arms, desperate for something—anything—to hold on to.
You raised a single eyebrow.
Then, gently, you tugged his hair back, tilting his head to face you directly.
You stared down at him. Clear-eyed.
"You're a contradiction," you whispered. "You want to stop hurting but you dare not let me go." Your hand traced down the line of his throat.
"....You just want to relive the agony don't you?"
"I-" Phainon tried to speak but you interrupted him.
"You believe this punishment is the only way to feel. That if you bleed a little more, a little cleaner, maybe you'll finally be forgiven."
God, you were merciless.
This wasn't the real you.
The real you wouldn't say these things.
The real you wouldn't—
Wouldn't...
"I just love you too much to let you go" his fingers clenched. Fingernails digging into his palms.
"This isn't love Phainon, this is obsession dressed up as devotion"
Phainon took a breath.
What could he say anymore? Everything you were saying, was true. Something he decided to never admit. Yet here you were, cutting all his grief open without a care.
"Would the real me like seeing you like this?" you spoke, your voice turning soft.
He went silent.
A stillness deeper than the void around you.
Phainon stilled.
Somehow, in all these years...
He had never thought of that.
Your words didn't scream. They just cut.
They cut through the last thread of his fantasy, clean and final.
And in that moment Phainon knew.
He had lost.
Chapter 13 : Numb The Pain
"You aren't her." Phainon spoke, his voice detached.
"You don't know what she would say" His words were meant to shut you up, but he knew it wouldn't work.
"I am your memory of her Phainon. I only say the words you think she might've told you." You simply spoke. Your words held no sorrow anymore. Just pure, unapologetic truth.
"No, she would....she would...." He faltered. He couldn't refute your claims.
Because denying you would be denying her. And he didn't have the heart to do that.
He sighed. "Why? why do you insist on showing me the truth?"
You smiled. "I don't. You do."
He scoffed, dragging a hand through his hair in frustration "For god's sake (Y/N), be clear for once!"
You still smiled.
"Even if I appear as '(Y/N)', I am born from your consciousness Phainon. These words I speak, even if they're shaped by your memory of her, they are still your words."
Phainon froze.
"This is you speaking. These are the words you want to hear." you continued.
You put a hand on your chest and closed your eyes. "I am you."
Phainon turned away. He had already figured it out. You had known too much about him from the start. But it still hurt.
To him, you still wore the face of his dead beloved.
"Creating me... it's your way of coping. Your way of feeling happiness again."
Phainon sighed, finally giving up. He was too tired. All too exhausted.
"You're really annoying you know that?" He slumped down on the grass, staring up at the starless void. Calm.
"I'll take that as a compliment." you laughed softly.
"Of course you would." he shook his head, a hint of a smile on his face despite himself.
"The real her would laugh, seeing you converse to yourself." you shifted closer to him, tilting your head to mimic his gaze.
He scoffed "She would find all of this terribly amusing, wouldn't she?"
"She would." you hummed. "I miss her you know."
Your soft admission, tinged with that familiar, aching fondness, caught him off-guard. The genuine pain in your voice, the way you spoke about the real you, stirred a flicker of guilt within him.
You—his creation—missed her.
"I do too." he whispered.
"And that's fine." you spoke fondly "Let us remember her. Forever. Miss her, but not cage her in memory."
Phainon didn't speak.
He couldn't.
"Because.... in reality, if she saw you right now..." You turned your gaze to him. "She would blame all of it on herself"
Phainon felt as if his throat was burning. He wanted to cry, to yell, to scream, but none of it came out.
'Don't let this consume you'
'Remember me with a smile'
'Move on, for my sake?'
'Be happy Phainon'
Ah.
Those were the words you would say to him if you were still alive. He knew it.
"I wish it were that easy."
You shrugged "Of course its not, grief doesn't disappear, it only numbs."
You got up, stretching your arms. Phainon sat up too, curious of your actions. Slowly you held out your hand towards him, inviting him.
"Let me help you take the first step then."
Chapter 14 : The Promised Land
You pulled Phainon up. He stumbled towards you, his mind reeling, caught between fear and a strange, unfamiliar sense of hope.
Your hand still felt cold, yet he could still feel warmth slowly seeping in.
"Where are we going?" amidst the chaos in his head, he managed to whisper.
"We'll see." You slowly started walking towards the endless void.
He followed your lead, his steps hesitant and uncertain.
The unknown terrified him, but there was something in the way you walked ahead, with confidence and purpose, that gave him a strange sense of comfort. A comfort he didn't feel he deserved.
He glanced around, his eyes trying to make sense of the surroundings.
"I can't see where we're going..." he murmured quietly. "It's all just... darkness."
"Have patience." you hummed, still holding his hand tightly.
Time passed. Or maybe it didn't. The void didn't have clocks or skies or suns.
Then you stopped.
You had reached the edge. The edge of the world he had created.
There was no more memory left to walk on. No more of Amphoreous to recall. This was where his story ended.
This was the end of this world.
You turned to face him "This is as far as I go."
Phainon's heart skipped a beat. He knew what this meant. This meant goodbye, again.
He didn't want this. He didn't want to leave this dream.
A pang of grief washed over him, his grip on your hand tightening almost desperately, as if trying to hold onto you for just a little longer.
"Is this......where we part ways?" His voice broke.
You were calm, a smile on your lips.
"No, Phainon. This is not goodbye. We are just not seeing each other for a short while."
You stepped back, away from the edge.
"Because at the end of your journey, we will meet again."
You turned away from him. Your voice steady.
"At the promised land, you will see her again."
He stared at your back. That familiar silhouette. There was sorrow in his eyes—but not despair. Just longing.
"I'll hold onto that." he said.
He couldn't see your expression, but he knew.
You were smiling.
"Always. With that, Phainon, I wish you all the happiness."
He stepped forward, leaving you behind. There were so many things he still wanted to say—
Well I thought of re posting the story that I published A LONG TIME AGO IN Ao3 and wattpad. Eh I am not too proud of the writing but its still my fav concept. There was suposed to be an extra chapter but i opted not to post it here cuz....hehe.
I hoped you liked it! Let me know your thoughts
PHAINON — living with a person who has OCD • Obsessive Compulsive Disorder — Checking OCD: checking things multiple times to prevent perceived harm, disasters, or mistakes.
Phainon stood in the doorway, smiling softly as always. He watched as you stressed over everything, closing every door, locking all windows, checking if the oven and microwave was off and if the fridge was closed. Just as you were setting the shoes aside in case you or Phainon tripped when you got home, a hand caressed your head. Looking up, your husband was still smiling, calm as ever.
"Everything is alright, trust me. You've checked three times,"
You shook your head, muttering about how you're checking for the last time. Phainon let out a small, amused sigh as he knelt down beside you, setting a pair of your clean shoes to where his were already tucked neatly in the shoe box.
"You've done all of the rooms. You don't need to worry,"
It was a small lie. Throughout your stressed panic, you missed the bathroom, one of the most essential things of the house.
But Phainon knew better than to feed into your OCD. If he did point out the missed bathroom, he'd temporarily quiet your anxiety, but it would just make it worse. So he kept quiet.
"All done now?"
Staring at the shoes, you hesitantly nod. Phainon stood up and gave you your jacket, holding the shoulders as you put your arms in the sleeves, thanking him for being a gentleman.
Amidst all of that, you didn't even notice your keys on the counter beside the door. Phainon quietly took the keys and slipped them in your back pocket.
Seventeen // Took My Bitterness and Made it Sweet [Brother's Best Friend! Phainon x f!reader]
Summary: One summer day when you were thirteen, your older brother Mydei brings a boy over to play. You don’t expect anything good out of boys, but somehow, the boy- Phainon, you learned his name was, seems to want to know you better and include you in everything. Every time you expect nothing and think he’s just here for Mydei, his guileless yearning to be closer to you continues for years. Your denial of feelings and Phainon’s easy and confident persistence seems to complicate whatever was within your heart even further.
A/N + Warnings: Modern!AU, reader is introverted, reader is 1 year younger than Mydei and Phainon, LONG AF 21K WORDS IM SO SORRY, trig identities, Mydei slander (bc he's your brother), extremely self indulgent. I wrote half of these sections while I was in school, so apologies if there are inconsistencies in the writing
Tagging the lovely @zozo-01 since she stuck with this ever since she tagged me in snippet sunday (Thank you Zo, I love you <3)
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
Age: 13
At the young age of thirteen, you've already written off boys. They were smelly, mean, and dumb... you could go on. Which is why, when your brother Mydei brought home a friend for the first time, you were not expecting to like him.
It was a random summer afternoon when you were lounging in your room, listening to music while you draw. It wasn't long until you felt like you heard the front door open and close, along with an extra set of footsteps...? You thought you were hearing things- perhaps it was your mom who was walking. But just a second later, you heard an unfamiliar voice.
It's another boy, you think.
For a moment you forget the animosity you have against boys. The memory of your brother dejected and purposely isolating himself last year rings clearly in your mind. Your family had left your town of Castrum Kremnos and moved to the more populated city of Okhema to get a fresh start, especially because of the grief caused by your father. However, this also meant that Mydei would be leaving his friends.
Though you have not had many interactions with them, you knew they were good friends and meant a lot to your brother, even if he didn't want to admit it. A dull ache lingered within your household despite moving to the free and prosperous Okhema.
So you decide to give this mystery boy a pass.
Your tablet flashes, signaling low battery, and suddenly you realize the predicament you're about to be in. Shit. You left your charger with Mydei after his broke, so now you have to go in his room to ask for it.
Did you really have to go in? Your mind goes back and forth between saving your tablet and staying in your room and waiting it out. Looking back in your room, avoiding interacting with the mystery boy and your stinky brother seemed really tempting. You had hobbies! You could definitely find something else to pass the time. But a part of you can't help but be curious, and before you know it, your feet were dragging you to Mydei's room.
You walk as lightly as you could, trying not to alert them of your existence before you were ready to go in. The door was half open, and you hear the low murmur of their voices, along with the electronic sounds effects of what seemed to be punches or shooting. You gulp, overthinking of whether Mydei would even hear you over the video game noises. You knock anyway.
"Yeah?" Mydei's voice calls out. You breath a sigh of relief- at least he heard you. You grab your nonexistent courage and push the door to enter. Keeping your head down, your footsteps hover lightly on his floor as if you were sneaking in. And then your breath catches in your throat.
The mystery boy- A boy sits on the edge of Mydei's bed beside him with a controller loosely in his hand. He looks up at you the same time your brother does, and you get a full glimpse of his face. He was sitting, but he looked around the same height and age as Mydei. White messy hair framing his face, bright blue eyes, and an even brighter smile. Why was he smiling at you?
And was that the scent of wheat?
Your brain barely catches up to the overload of the mystery boy, but Mydei fortunately snaps you out of your trance.
"What do you want?" Mydei's voice is curt and straight to the point as always. You catch the mystery boy stifling a laugh, nudging your brother and whispering something like "how gentle", to which your brother nudges him back subtly. You don't know why but you feel self conscious all of a sudden.
"I-I need the charger." You mutter. Ew. You become aware of how awkward your voice comes out.
"It's on the desk." Mydei replies, quickly focusing back on the video game. You cringe. The desk? The one all the way across the room? Where you'd have to pass this weird smiley boy? Your anti-social self loathes this, and you wish you could cuss at Mydei for not getting the message but alas there is a guest.
Men. They certainly stress women out. Even your own brother.
You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you swiftly cross your brother's bed to snatch the charger. Okay, you did it, just quickly in and quickly out, easy right-
"Hey."
The white haired mystery boy calls out to you, and you flinch like those cartoon robbers caught in the police lights.
"I'm Phainon." He says with a smile. "Do you wanna play with us?"
Your pupils dart quickly between the boys and Mydei's TV, where some sort of FPS game was paused. The thought crosses your mind so fast, you almost flinch in disgust at the thought of playing this violent video game with boys. Yuck!
"I- what?" You grimace, though it comes out meek. Phainon only continues smiling, lifting his controller to gesture at the game.
"We're about to enter a lobby, you can join us if you like." Phainon only continues smiling, lifting his controller to gesture at the game. The invite makes your heart beat faster- though you're not sure if you should be flattered or weirded out that you're being included. Mydei seems to voice the latter.
"Why would we do that?" Mydei's words come out blunt as usual, though you don't fault him for it because you also couldn't find a reason to join them, especially when you didn't really enjoy your brother's video games. More importantly, you felt like it was gonna be awkward.
"Um, I'm okay. I don't really like shooter games." You reply, slowly backing off with the charger in hand. Weirdly, Phainon perks up more, still talking to you.
"Then we could play something else. Do you like Mario Kart? Or Party?" Phainon suggests. You and Mydei both give him a grimace like true siblings.
"We don't have to include my sister in everything." Mydei says. From the way he said it, you felt like Mydei briefly told Phainon about you, which doesn’t help with your face burning at the thought of being mentioned.
"I-It's fine, really. You guys play." You say, taking the last word to finally exit. You're at the threshold of Mydei's doorway when Phainon steals the last word, calling out one last thing.
"Maybe next time then."
You almost flinch again, your steps abruptly stopping, and shit. It signalled that you heard him, so now you had to answer. You slowly turn, putting on a smile.
"Yeah... sure." Your answer wasn't confident, and you realize you might have come off as fake- like you were putting on a customer-service smile with an empty promise.
And yet, Phainon- this smiling boy, continues to beam at you like he actually believed you.
You don't trust yourself to not embarrass yourself any further with that interaction, so you you quickly pull your brother's door closed and retreat back to the safety of your room. You sit on your bed, charger clearly forgotten and your posture rigid as a soldier as you reflect on what the hell just happened.
Your heart was beating too fast. Too fast, but... not for a boy, right?
It's ridiculous, you think. Phainon was the guest here- a stranger. There was a supposed to be a sense that playing video games with them was some sort of uncharted territory when he was your brother's friend. But it’s like it has been reversed.
You've met boys before, obviously in your elementary school. They were smelly, mean, and dumb... loud, reckless, and careless... Yet Phainon was strangely not like them. And you were sure as hell knew that none of them ever looked at you like that- like it was normal for you to be there, or that it made sense for you to join. You press your palms to your face, as if wiping it would get rid of your overcomplicated thoughts.
This is so stupid.
Somehow, you get the feeling that you weren't going to forget him.
A few hours later, you realize you actually aren't going to forget the boy. Especially when you find him setting up the dinner table.
Your mother called you and Mydei down that evening for dinner, and you pause for a moment in the hallway as you see the white haired boy still here. You caught a glimpse of him just washing his hands, meaning he was definitely staying to eat. He answers your mother with a cheerful "yes ma'am!" and you make a face- both at the thought of Phainon joining your family for dinner, and the fact that he just called your mother "ma'am".
Your mother calls you and Mydei to set the table as usual. You realize how giddy Phainon looked as you saw him from the corner of your eye, sleeves rolled up and posture upright like he was ready for your mother’s cooking. He suddenly realizes you too.
"Oh, hi again." Phainon's eyes blink at you as he turns away from drying his hands.
"Hi..." You quietly nod to him, and he smiles at you again. By this point, you felt that he could probably tell that you were weirded out by him a little- being a guest and all yet being so comfortable with people he just met. You don't even remember the last time you were comfortable in your own skin. And yet here you were, standing awkwardly at your own dinner table in your own house, while this random boy acts like he belonged here all this time.
For once you latch onto the task of setting the table gratefully, busying yourself with forks and knives in order to not to pay the obvious elephant in the room any mind. You definitely don't realize the way he kept glancing over, and you certainly don't realize how he pulled your chair out for you.
Once dinner was set, your family takes their seat and starts on a nice home-cooked meal. Your mother gets curious and starts asking Phainon questions, since she too realized this was the first friend Mydei brought home. You keep your head down mostly, as you weren't really a part of this conversation. Funny enough, Mydei stays quiet too. Birds of a feather you were.
"How long have you two been friends?" Your mother asks towards your brother and Phainon. Though of course, Phainon takes the lead and answers.
"Since the beginning of the school year. Mydei has been helping me with studying for history." Phainon beams, his head nudging towards Mydei to acknowledge him. "He's really good in that class."
Mydei grumbles something unintelligible in response. It's weird... weird how Phainon's praise for your brother warms your heart. You knew that your brother was good at history, that much was true. But nobody was perfect (and as his sister, you knew firsthand of Mydei's particularly annoying traits such as his attitude). Phainon goes on about how he met Mydei from how he admired Mydei's competitiveness in gym class, but Mydei of course mistaken it for rivalry. You internally cringe at the thought of more boys being over competitive in sports.
Still, the sound of Phainon talking about your brother like he was perfect was... different somehow, genuine- even though that wasn't part of the question your mother was asking. You poke mindlessly at your food, a small smile slipping out as you recognize the hidden weight behind Phainon's polite answers.
Your mom continues to pester Phainon and Mydei with questions, with Phainon answering and your brother contributing the bare minimum. At one point you swear you see your mother rolling her eyes fondly at Mydei's lack of answer. You knew she likely shared the same sentiment as you- thinking how your brother was secretly happy for making a new friend.
"What grade are you going to?" Phainon's voice interrupts your thoughts, and you blink up, realizing that he was suddenly talking to you.
"Oh- eighth..."
"Eighth? Cool. Are you looking forward to high school?"
"I don't know..."
"That's okay. I think high school is gonna be fun! What's your favourite subject?"
"Um, art."
"That's awesome." Phainon says it like he actually means it, which makes your grip on your fork tighten. "Do you draw a lot?"
"Yeah I guess..."
"What kind of stuff do you draw?" Holy moly. You start cringing more, feeling some sort of embarrassment as Phainon presses on with the questions. He really wasn't letting this conversation go.
"Um... just things..." You shrug. You’re not really sure you want to say out loud that you draw silly anime characters at the dinner table. There's a pause, where Phainon just nods at you. It's like deja vu, where you expected the talk to end here. And yet-
"I'd like to see them sometime." He says, smiling. Your heart seems to catch on to the deja vu, doing that strange little jump again like before.
You don't understand it.
You don't understand why he wants to know more about you, or why he's being so polite, or why he keeps trying to include you, or why he's smiling so much. Why it ironically feels physically hard for you to look him in the eye. Going to a friend's house for the first time is typically awkward, is it not? But nothing seemed difficult for Phainon. In fact, everything seemed relatively easy for him.
Dinner continues with your brother and Phainon bantering and bickering like boys do while your mother smiles fondly. Once you finish, you walk quickly back to your room, wanting to be back in the safety within your walls, where you will not be bothered by some stinky-
“Hey!” Phainon calls out to you, and you flinch, stopping in your tracks. His footsteps pad across the floor, with Mydei silently beside him. “I still don’t know your name.”
“It’s (Y/N)…” You reply softly. You would think that your brother would have introduced you, but alas there he stands, anti-social and nonchalant like all boys try to be. Well, almost all boys.
“Well (Y/N), do you wanna play Mario Party with us?” There was the question again, but rephrased with your name with the addition of a more family friendly video game. He was purposely trying to include you, wasn’t he? You pause for a moment, thinking. Phainon grins, pressing on. “Your brother told me that you need help unlocking a minigame in the two versus two mode.”
“But there’s three of us…”
“Yeah. It can be me and you versus Mydei.” Phainon remarks casually. Before you could quirk an eyebrow at the strange pairing, Phainon continues. “Your brother already claimed he would still win.”
And it’s strange, you think. How the stars are perfectly aligning, so much so that it almost seems suspicious. Something prickles at your pride. Mydei has always been competitive with you, but to be honest, playing Mario Party with your brother has started getting boring. Here Phainon was, offering a fresh perspective by fueling Mydei’s competitive spirit and wanting you to join.
You blink blankly at your brother. “…You wouldn’t win partnered with an AI.”
“Yeah? Wanna bet?” Mydei growls immediately after. It earns a chuckle from Phainon, as he gets a first hand experience of you and Mydei being essentially the same person, and furthermore a glimpse of your own sarcasm against your brother. Phainon looks over at you, beaming.
“So, what do you say?”
You look at the boy, whose posture remains hopeful that you would join. Your stomach fluttered again- why? At this point you realize how bad it would be if you declined him again like you subtly dismissed him before. But he was... intelligent, you think. Intelligent in how he phrased his words.
"Partners?"
Phainon is already pushing Mydei's door open like he owned the place (while the real tenant grimaces). His other hand is outstretched to you, and somehow you see the change now. The invite was no longer a push, but a sign of him waiting. This was weird. He's too warm... too-
"Yeah." Before you knew it, a smile slowly spreads on your face, and you take his hand. He somehow lights up even more, giggling with you as he tugs you into Mydei's room, with the shared goal of beating your brother.
⋆⋅☼⋅⋆
Age: 15
Two years ago was when you’d say you officially became friends with Phainon: That day he was first invited to your house by Mydei.
You remember playing Mario Party with the boys, which turned into a whole marathon of video games. But you also ended up learning about Phainon. How he actually lives very far from school, in the countryside of Aedes Elysiae. Little things like how he wanted a video game console, but found it useless if he no one to play with- hence why he was so excited to get the invite from Mydei to play video games at your house.
As you finally come into your own in high school, you don't freeze up anymore whenever Phainon comes over. He’s starting to get taller and his voice has lowered, but you barely realize it because of how often you see him. However, there was still the notion that Phainon was more of Mydei’s friend than he was yours. They were classmates first after all, but now that you knew him better, you felt like being in his presence more.
"Mydei, I need help with homework." You blurt out as you dump your bag on the couch as you come home. Mydei and Phainon were already there, sitting at the dining table, heads buried in their notebooks. Mydei clicks his tongue.
"What homework?" Your brother grumbles, already dreading your request and dramatically setting his pencil down. Phainon peers over at you behind him.
"Trig stuff." You reply casually. Mydei lets out a groan.
"No."
"What?!" You shout, immediately getting defensive. In times like these, you're reminded how obnoxious your brother is. Not that you ever forgot. "I have a quiz soon."
"I'm busy studying for my own test. Figure it out yourself." Mydei says. You catch the subtle sound of Phainon snickering behind your brother, and you get suspicious of whether he was laughing at you. Little do you know, the white haired boy caught a glimpse of Mydei's notes- messy and full of frustrated scribbles, because he too was struggling with trig stuff. Of course, he didn't want to admit it.
"Mydei, please. You're not saying no because you suck at trig too right?"
"No, I'm not." Mydei replies curtly. It was a lie of course. Again- birds of a feather you and Mydei were... both struggling with maths. You thought you could at least rely on your brother since he had at least a year of experience. But still, he waves you off. "Ask someone else."
You were about to open your mouth to argue, when-
"I can help." Phainon leans out for you to see him, offering his services easily. A beat of silence goes by until you and your brother both shout what?! without any shame.
What was it you said earlier? You don't freeze up anymore whenever Phainon comes over?
The hairs on the back of your neck prickle again, and you start feeling self conscious... like when you were thirteen meeting Phainon for the first time. Your notebook and past quiz that were prepared in your hands, slowly hide themselves behind you as if to back off. You knew your notes were messy- maybe even more than your brother's. But worst of all, your equations were half finished, red marks on your previous quiz with see me after class as the cherry on top.
You really don't want Phainon seeing this.
“I-It’s fine… I don’t want to bother you guys.” You try slowly backing away, hoping the boys would get the message that you changed your mind. Phainon only continues to smile, disregarding your stance.
"It's okay. I don't mind." He shrugs, already walking to the other side of the dining table so you could sit next to him. Shit.
Your brother rolls his eyes, seeing this as a sign for him to leave and study in peace. Wait, Mydei- He wasn't supposed to leave you alone with Phainon! He's so stupid!
"Whatever, I’m going somewhere else to work. Just don't fail her." Mydei glares one last time before dragging his stuff into his room and slamming his door like a princess, leaving you alone with Phainon.
"I won't." Phainon says simply, his arm resting on the back of the chair. He looks up at you, who was still standing there, and you flinch.
"Do you wanna come over here?" He asks. Your cheeks go warm at his... gentleness. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but there was a tiny part of his voice that sounded like he was teasing you. Still, you walk over, stiff as cardboard as you awkwardly sit in the chair next to him with your disappointing notes in hand. Immediately, you become aware of how close Phainon was, so you unconsciously shift your chair a little further from him, purposely distancing yourself. An awkward silence occurs for a good minute, until Phainon notices something and laughs quietly, looking at you.
“...What?” You stammer, your pupils flickering back and forth between him and the floor.
“Hm?” Phainon tilts his head as if he was an innocent puppy, though you knew he was far from innocent. Did he have to keep staring at you like that?
“What are you looking at?” You ask almost curtly, attempting to shoo him away.
“What am I looking at?” Phainon repeats your question with a knowing grin.
God, why did Phainon have to be so stupid? He truly didn’t know the effect he had on you- making you forget how to speak despite him coming over to your home for years and teetering off embarrassing yourself whenever he spares you a little glance.
But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? It wasn’t just a small glance to you.
Things like going the extra mile to help you with something you struggled with, being persistent in including you… Realistically, it didn’t mean anything special but oh, at the same time it definitely did. Why else did you start staring at the mirror for longer, wondering if you should fix your hair a little before going down? Why else would you think about changing into something that makes you look less like a bum? It was a little crazy now that you think about it. Mydei would definitely say something about it for sure. Something like “Why the fuck did you change your clothes when we’re in our own house?” to which was a valid argument- one that you didn’t want to have. So you usually end up doing nothing, but overthinking it anyway.
Phainon speaks again, seeing as you’ve seem to have gone silent for some reason. Thankfully, it stops your intrusive thoughts, but in turn makes your cheeks heat up a little.
“I’m looking at you because you’re sitting so far from me.” Phainon’s mouth curves upwards, his tongue teasingly between his teeth. He gives a playful pout. “Are you scared of me?”
You watch as Phainon grin turns into a playful pout. You realize what he meant with you sitting all the way at the end, accusing you of avoiding him or something.
Still, you deny it. “N-No…”
“Well then-“ Phainon lets out a soft grunt, and you get a little startled when you notice his foot hooking through the leg of your chair to bring you closer. That home-y scent of wheat wafts through your nose as soon as he got you where he wants.
"Okay, show me what you've got." He says. You cringe, still cosplaying as cardboard as you slowly slide your embarrassing notes and past quiz over. He looks it over silently, and you hold your breath.
"Hey," Phainon looks at you with a certain softness, something you definitely weren't expecting after your atrocious quiz score. "This isn't bad."
"I-It's not...?" You think he's making fun of you. Phainon shakes his head with a smile.
"No. To be honest I struggled with trig identities too. I think you're overthinking it, let me show you how I did it..."
Phainon teaches you how to approach the math questions you struggled on, and you start questioning whether he was lying about struggling on this too. From how he was explaining it to you, it's like he never struggled at all.
Then again, the only tutor you've known is your brother, so your standards are pretty low.
It's somewhat hard to concentrate as Phainon points out certain things and watches you do questions. He's close- really close. He's leaning towards you. Your shoulders would be brushing if you hadn't purposely leaned away. It was so much so that you notice the little crease in his brows and the way he bites his lip when he's concentrating.
"See? You're getting it."
What was this...? It’s literally just Phainon. Your heart starts doing those stupid little flips again, but you’re not sure if it’s just your brain mistaking it as nostalgia. Because it was the same way he was kind and patient with you two years ago. The same way he stayed for you at your dinner table despite you being difficult. The same way the smell of his hometown consumed you. The same way he continued to smile at you like it costs him nothing.
"What?" Phainon asks, softly glancing at you. You snap out of your trance and realize you were staring at him- daydreaming. How embarrassing.
"N-Nothing." You reply too quickly, ducking your head. Still, your eye flits back to him to peek, and he was smiling anyway. A warm feeling courses through your body, and you suddenly feel extremely comfortable. An idea comes up. "Can you help me with my English essay after?"
Phainon laughs, indulging you. "You need help with that? I thought your brother would be better with words."
You make a face at him, thinking, since when Mydei was good with poetry?
"You know- words like fuck and dumbass." Phainon clarifies. You laugh, realizing he was being sarcastic.
"That's exactly why I need help." You explain, and Phainon chuckles with a nod.
While you were being tutored, you shyly asked him why the heck he was even doing this- why he was willingly tutoring you when he had his own things to do, and didn’t have to in the first place. He only smiled a little, saying, “I like helping you.” You sputtered, exasperated as you questioned him, not being able to wrap your head around why that was a valid reason. But the implication was forgotten because he just made things easy for you. It doesn’t pass Phainon’s mind, but to be honest, he didn’t mind.
At some point, your eyes start drooping and getting heavier. Your textbook and notebook pages get blurrier. You feel your neck giving up on you, making your head lurch forward a few times.
“You falling asleep?” A soft voice whispers in your ear.
“No…” Even the dullness of your tone betrays you.
Phainon chuckles, and you get a little embarrassed. No, you cannot fall asleep at this point. Not when Phainon was right beside you. What if you drooled? Or snored? Mydei was always complaining about your snoring, and even though you were in denial, you get self conscious at what could happen. You force your eyelids open, but they only get heavy once more.
Before you knew it, your head fell to rest on a squishy pillow. The pillow briefly shakes beneath your cheek just before you passed out. How embarrassing- you eventually did use him as a pillow. You need to get up, but you don’t. It was mostly because you were tired, but perhaps a teensy tiny part of it was because you never wanted to leave.
You were drifting deeply into dreamland for who knows how long, and by how soundly you were sleeping, it seemed like you never wanted to wake up. That is, until something soft taps at your shoulder. Your eyes don’t really open until the tap happens a second time.
“There you are.” A soft chuckle reaches your ears, and you finally realize the predicament you were in.
The first thing you saw was Phainon, and you realized that he was sitting much closer than expected, and close enough that you could make out the little crinkle in the corner of his eyes as he smiled down at you.
“Hi.” He says again, softly greeting you, seeing as you haven’t fully woken up. Your brain seemed to be blissfully empty in this moment, simply savouring the view without informing your body to move. It doesn’t last long though, since Phainon slowly tries to extract himself from you without jostling you too much. “Was my lesson really that boring?”
You don’t even have the energy to respond, your eyes barely opening, though you hear Phainon’s voice fading in and out.
“I have to go now. (Y/n)-” Phainon chuckles sheepishly as he attempts to pull his sleeve caught from under your weight. “(Y/n), you need to wake up for me. Your brother’s gonna get mad at me again.”
“Mmph- y-you’re leaving now?” You suddenly scramble to fix your hair, sitting up properly to look at Phainon who was already reaching for his jacket. He turns back to you with a smile.
“It’s late.” He simply says. And he was right. As you looked outside, you could see the sky already pitch black. Just how long were you out for? What time did you fall asleep? Did you really lay on Phainon’s shoulder for that long? The thought makes you blush. You glance down at your forgotten trig homework, and see a bunch of sticky notes written with arrows and small notes for each question.
“Oh.”
Phainon seems to notice the mortification slowly creeping on your face at your brilliant response. He laughs under his breath.
“I’ve written down some notes for the last few questions you had. I hope they’re helpful in some way.” Phainon seems to be in deep contemplation, like he was thinking back to his notes and hoped they sufficed. He decides not to overthink it or potentially stress you out even more. So he smiles and waves, heading towards your door. “See you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight…” You managed to squeak as he left.
As your front door clicks shut, you collapse forwards on the table, simply staring at your scattered homework in silence. The living room felt strangely warm despite Phainon having already left. The scent of wheat lingered, his presence lingered, the half empty bowl of snacks, the blanket draped over you and the armrest. The feeling of his shoulder beneath your cheek.
Mydei casually walks down the stairs, his eyes flickering between the door and you, and you flinch. He leans forward on the table, looking down at you with the same arms-crossed, unreadable expression on his face. Though it was the same perpetual look of mild judgment he always gave, this time you felt like he could be suspecting something else.
“What…?” You say with a hint of attitude in your tone, side-eyeing your brother who clearly had something on his mind. You hated when Mydei did this.
“Nothing.” Mydei shrugs, reaching forward for the now stale popcorn. The silence continued to stretch, making you uneasy. “...Were you sleeping on his shoulder?”
“I- No…“ Smooth.
Mydei’s eyes narrow at you, getting skeptical from your very convincing answer. Fortunately, he scoffs and doesn’t address the secret you thought he was going to, but unfortunately, he decides he’s not going without a jab at you. “God, sleep on your bed next time.”
Your eyes widen in embarrassment, realizing that Mydei did indeed catch you sleeping on his best friend’s shoulder.
“S-Shut up Mydei!” You knowing he was teasing you for drooling on Phainon’s shoulder.
Mydei doesn’t even breaking eye contact with you. His gaze remains fixed, blinking blankly like he’s expecting something yet also wanting to ask something. You’re caught between deciding to stay silent or throwing another pillow because you knew he was teetering off pointing out a certain something between you and Phainon. Why couldn’t you talk to your brother about other things? Trying to have a normal conversation with Mydei was like trying to argue with a brick wall that occasionally made blunt remarks and observations about your life.
“You seem happy.”
You stared at Mydei, your heart skipping beats- though you weren’t sure if it was because you were anxious or the fluttery feeling of actually admitting what Mydei was likely referencing. The thing about having a sibling was that you would be fluent in their lies, but the biggest problem was that they would be fluent in yours too.
Because later that night, after denying everything to Mydei which you were sure sounded suspicious- you realized the thought had finally taken shape.
Fuck. You looked forward to seeing him. And it’s not like you haven’t, but after months of avoiding the question altogether, you slowly started to come to the terrible conclusion that your heart was craving his presence. There was no way you were going to get rid of the thought since you acknowledged it.
You knew Phainon didn’t come here to tutor you, and he too had work of his own and things to study for. Phainon had stayed. And even though you made him explain the concept four times, and continued cringing over trying not to break over trigonometry, your previous feelings of thinking you were a bother eventually seemed to disappear. He was patient with you, and never sounded annoyed, which in turn ruined your life in the way that you never stopped thinking about this moment.
You felt like you could depend on him comfortably without judgement or impatience. And he would let you take up as much of his time as you asked him for.
⋆⋅☼⋅⋆
Age: 17
Ever since that night when Phainon helped you with your homework, you felt like you could be more carefree around him. Before, Phainon was just Mydei’s friend. Just a boy, who was annoyingly good at everything and nice in a casual way that easily made people gravitate towards him.
At seventeen years old, you think you know better. You were an adult, applying to universities, and thinking about careers.
You think you've matured. Which is why crushing on Phainon feels childish now.
You've admitted it internally in your head, that you've had a crush on him. A baby one at least. Over the years, you've watched him grow and you considered him a friend like your brother did. But somewhere throughout the multiple times he came over to your house, you found yourself finding every part of him attractive. It wasn’t your fault though, that he hasn't stopped with his whole golden boy persona. He was good at everything, liked by everyone, and fine, you'll admit he's cute. But he's eighteen now, already graduated and in university. So, you start seeing less of him.
And because you've matured, you pushed your silly little crush deep deep down early in the year.
Besides, there was a guy in your grade who you've been liking for a while now. You talked often with him, and he was funny and clever. You play the same video games, and share the love for art. He was super attractive too, and him teasing you lightly and seeking you out only made you fall harder. But you mistake the laughter and banter for warmth- for the kind of connection you yearned for.
Near the end of the school year, you finally admitted it to the boy. Your feelings, out on a plate that trembles from your shaking hands and pounding heart and... he laughs.
"Wait, you thought I was serious?"
The words hit you and you instantly become hollow. You don't even remember the rest of what he said. Something about how he never saw you in that way. But all you could focus on was the little scoff, the awkwardness, the laugh. The humiliation replayed in your head all day, and you realized too late that the teasing was never friendly, and that your feelings were more disposable than you thought.
By the end of the school day, you feel nauseous. Ironically, not from the pit in your stomach but from how you didn't know how to keep your face from not looking nauseous.
And to make things worse, you had to keep a not-nauseous face in front of your brother... and Phainon, who were both picking you up after school.
You think you were doing a good job- purposely walking three steps behind them and looking down, lest they see you secretly wiping your tears. But as the three of you walk to the bus station, Mydei's eyes widen as he catches the sight of your reddening nose.
"You okay?" Mydei asks suddenly. You blink up, and fuck- even your eyes couldn't hide how puffy they felt.
"I'm fine." You reply. But your voice is croaky, and your sleeve suspiciously in front of your nose.
"You're crying." Mydei observes.
"I said I'm fine." You turn away defensively. Mydei's jaw gets tight, and he steps closer to you.
Panic and anger starts flaring up between you and Mydei, the two of your snapping and cutting off each other.
"What happened."
"Nothing."
"Who did it then?"
"Nobody."
"I know it wasn't fucking nobody."
"Just drop it Mydei!"
Phainon steps in gently with his hands raised between you and your brother. "Hey, let's just get to the station, okay?"
You almost forgot Phainon was there. You didn't want to know what he was thinking, and in the moment you didn’t care. Mydei glares at you, growling as he turns to keep walking to the station, reluctantly following Phainon's advice. You follow the boys silently, your heart hammering. It's embarrassing you think, how you've just argued with your brother out in the open like a child. You were eighteen for fucks sake.
The bus ride was painfully quiet between the three of you, and you didn't dare look up from your feet. After a while, Mydei speaks again.
"Was it that guy?" Your brother's voice low, but clearly aimed at you. You start getting nauseous again.
"No." You lie. It was small and desperate. You almost cry when you see your brother shaking his head from the corner of your eye. Was he disappointed in you? For lying? Because of the guy in your class? You weren't sure. Still, you knew you should never have told him. Mydei says nothing.
When you finally reach your home, you don't wait to rush straight to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you. You drop onto your bed, face flat into your sheets as you sob into them, hoping they muffle the sound. You feel so stupid.
Meanwhile, Mydei stomps into the house, shoulders rigid with anger as he violently sits on the couch, his fingers pinching his brows. For once, Phainon is nervous to enter further into your house. Even with uncertainty and a small ache in his chest, he approaches Mydei.
"Are you okay...?" He asks, slowly putting his bag down. A long silence passes, and Mydei doesn't even look up at him.
"Do whatever you want." Mydei says, not even answering Phainon's question. Okay- so obviously Mydei (and you) weren't okay. Phainon sits beside him anyway. He eventually convinces your brother to go wash his face to cool down.
An hour passes, and Phainon realizes he was alone. Actually, he realized it a lot longer ago, when he heard the sound of the bathroom door closing... and then Mydei's own door.
This should be awkward for him. Being promised a normal hangout but now being left alone in a house that isn't his, where both his friends were upset. Against his better judgment, he softly walks down the halls to your door. He hesitates a little before knocking lightly.
"Hey... are you okay…?" He asks.
On the other side of the door, you gulp, swallowing your sobs for the nth time. You stay silent, both from not knowing what to say and not wanting to face him.
"I-I don't need to come in." Phainon continues cautiously, and you keep quiet. "I just wanted to know if you were okay..."
You shouldn't be replying to him, not now. Even so-
"I'm not." Ew. Your voice comes out watery and snotty. Weirdly enough, something in Phainon's chest breathes a sigh of relief at hearing your voice.
"Can I sit with you?" He asks immediately after. "We don't have to talk."
You hesitate again. Every nerve in your body is telling you no- that you should keep the door locked and not let him or anyone see you like this. But Phainon's voice was gentle, just like you've always known, and- ...this is so dumb.
"...Fine." You mumble, creaking your door slightly open.
Phainon immediately pushes the door wider. His heart sinks when he sees you with red swollen eyes and hunched shoulders. But you don't even notice- in fact the only thing you do notice is the ghost of a hopeful smile just before he crushes you with a hug.
"Hey," He murmurs, as if greeting you after not seeing you for a while. "I've got you."
You stiffen for a second. The hug wasn’t even that tight, his grip light and loose like he was afraid of breaking you. His hold remained respectful, and so you let yourself melt into him, chin resting on his shoulder even if it was for a few pathetic seconds.
He pulls away eventually and gestures for you to sit back on your bed while he sits on your chair. You’re hoping Phainon doesn’t notice the disgusting tissues piling up in your trash can.
“Do you… wanna talk about it?” He asks softly. And it’s really none of his business. But at this point you’re desperate and you’ve already let him in your room. So, you tell him.
You tell him everything despite the moments making your face hot with humiliation. From how you thought your shared interests and teasing with the guy meant something, to how you stupidly convinced yourself it was mutual. Somewhere along the line you also slowly realize how delusional you must have been. The boy simply didn’t like you because he didn’t see you in that way- no fault in that. But was it so bad to think that something could have came from it?
You shakily recall how much you trembled during your confession, voice and body and all. It should have been a sign since then. So, the answer is yes.
“I feel so stupid.” You blurt out, rubbing your eyes again. “
“Don’t say that,” Phainon coos softly. “It takes guts to confess. I’m sorry it turned out this way.”
“You are…?” You sniffle.
“I thought he would have liked you too.” He explains matter of factly. “Anyone with the same dynamic would have.”
Suddenly, a bitter type of anger twists within your stomach.
I thought he would have liked you too. Anyone would have.
Phainon’s words were kind, but you felt that they were too kind for the utter stupidity you subjected yourself to. You think about how some of your classmates knew of your playful rivalry with the boy and started encouraging it. You think about the nights you spent up texting your friends, secretly giggling and squealing over every little interaction and replaying conversations you had with the boy. You think about how much time you wasted.
And then it hits you- how stupid you look right now. Crying, eyes swollen, puffy nose, and your voice all watery and wobbly… with Phainon watching all of it. Heat starts flooding your face again, and before you knew it the bitterness was tumbling out of your mouth.
“You don’t know anything.” You mutter quietly. But Phainon hears it.
“What-“
“You don’t.” You stand up suddenly, your change in demeanour now prevalent. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
No wait-
Your seething words get to Phainon, the corner of his eyes turning downwards, heart aching. You immediately feel the guilt and shame, but it’s too late.
“I’m not.” Phainon replies quietly. Somehow, his tone was normal- unaffected even after the bitterness from you. For a second your heart wants to double down. But your words tell a different story.
“Yes, you are.” You refuse to make eye contact with him, but your message remains clear. “Just- Just get out. Please.”
There’s a pause where a small part of you hoped that Phainon would stay. But of course, your words have already left your mouth and told him otherwise. Phainon stands up, a deep sigh coming out of him. He nods once with a bittersweet smile as if accepting something he doesn’t want to.
“Okay… I’ll give you space.” Phainon says softly. He hesitates at your door for a bit. “I’ll be outside if you still want to talk…”
Phainon finally leaves, making sure to close your door for you. Almost immediately, you start crying again, though the embarrassment lingers longer than the tears. Curled within your blankets, your mind can’t help but replay the moment, finding a new detail to hate each time. You shouldn’t even be crying this much. Even as you found yourself liking this boy throughout the school year, you internally told yourself to prepare for the chance of heartbreak. You couldn’t expect everything to be a happy ending, right? Yet as you become aware of the sorry state of yourself now, it seems to be more painful.
Because maybe, a small foolish part of yourself thought that he might say yes.
The more you thought about it, the more humiliating this whole thing felt. The butterflies, the daydreams, the hopeful little fantasies you built in your head- how arrogant were you to think someone would like you back? The answer should have been obvious from the beginning.
On the other side of the door, Phainon stands there for a moment with a heavy heart as he hears your muffled sobs and sniffles. He’s about to turn and walk back to the couch when suddenly- a familiar pair of footsteps approaching make Phainon snap up. Mydei.
The boys both look at each other with wide eyes, not knowing where to start. Phainon’s mouth opens though nothing comes out, while Mydei stands there with an unreadable expression and his arms crossed.
“I-I wasn’t- I mean- I was just…” Phainon trails off, not really making any sense.
“I know.” Mydei replies while letting out an exhale. Phainon’s half relieved but also half confused. He knew Mydei was quite protective of you, but he surprisingly wasn’t mad at him for talking to you after a meltdown. Mydei opens his eyes, but avoids looking towards your bedroom door. “Was it about that guy…?”
Phainon is torn between telling his best friend and respecting your privacy. It was hard when Mydei was already this perceptive- what else was there to hide?
“Nothing gets past you, does it?” Phainon sighs with a meek smile. A neutral answer, yet it told Mydei everything he needs to know. Your brother doesn’t press on for information, only deeply exhaling again while walking towards the living room.
“I’m bad at this.” Mydei mutters, flopping on the couch. Phainon curiously trails after him. “You’re better than this than me.”
Phainon blinks, then rounds the couch to sit beside him. “That’s not true.”
“She talked to you, not me.” Mydei says flatly, rubbing his hands on his face. Phainon swears he saw the corners of Mydei’s eyes still recovering from redness(?) but he decides not to comment on it. He thinks back to your red eyes, and how he wished he could have comforted you more.
“I know you… never really liked that guy in the first place but,” Phainon says, giving a hopeful smile. “She needs you more than me. Even if she doesn’t say it.”
“And…? I’d just make things worse.” Mydei lowly protests. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Yeah, you probably would.” Phainon pokes at Mydei, and his head snaps towards him giving him a glare. Phainon chuckles, though he knew his friend would know that he was half joking. Phainon offers a weak smile. “But at least it meant you tried.”
A beat of silence hangs in the air, but it wasn’t heavy this time.
“I’m sorry.” Mydei says, his voice low. Phainon’s ears perk up, unsure if Mydei really meant that.
“What did you say-”
“I said go home.” Mydei deflects, facing away from him. But even with the unsaid words, Phainon knew his friend had a lot of heart, and didn’t mean to cause this conflict and awkwardness. Mydei picks up Phainon’s bag and throws it at him. “I’ll talk to her later…”
And finally, Phainon breathes a sigh of relief, having a gut feeling that this would resolve itself soon enough.
⋆⋅☼⋅⋆
Age: 18, start of university
It’s been about almost a year since that argument you had with your brother about that stupid crush.
Mydei did end up knocking on your door that night, and you had a talk. It wasn’t perfect by any means- there was still some frustration and shouting. Mydei kept telling you how he knew he should have trusted his gut on how that guy was bad. You kept telling him that it wasn’t his business, and that you could take care of yourself. You weren’t a little kid anymore.
Eventually, the anger fizzled out and Mydei remembers that the whole reason for this conversation wasn’t about being right.
You both sit in silence for a while, until Mydei gives you an awkward side hug, murmuring about how that guy sucked. If it was anything you could agree on now,
“You’re not serious about beating him up are you?” You ask incredulously.
“Yeah I am. Got a problem?” Mydei replies without an ounce of care. You roll your eyes.
“Um yes, there is a problem. An ethical one.” You say like it was obvious- because it was!
“Who gives a shit?” Mydei shrugs. You can’t help but laugh at Mydei’s straightforward yet completely honest answer, because truthfully you would probably think the same if it weren’t for repercussions. You knew you couldn’t change anything from what happened, though a part of the embarrassment still remains deep in your heart. You decide to do your best and move on- and more importantly, you didn’t want to argue with your brother, or stay mad at him for his way of thinking.
Later that night, you also made sure to text Phainon, and you get a reply back pretty quickly.
(Y/N): I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. I really appreciate you coming to comfort me, even if I wasn’t accepting of it.
Phainon: There’s no need to apologize. I understand you were hurt.
For a moment you stare at the screen. Even with all these years knowing Phainon, his gentleness still astounded you.
Phainon: You’re tougher than you think. Always have been.
You smile at the text. Stubborn would have been a better word, you think, especially with Mydei as part of the context. Still, this was the last time you saw Phainon before entering university, which made things slightly awkward. Things are resolved, but you still can’t shake off the fact that the last impression you had was bawling your eyes out in front of him, and then snapping at him right after.
The summer passes quietly after that. You don’t see Phainon much since you were preparing to start your own journey in university. You were ready for things to change.
Well, most things. Mydei was still protective of you, and you suddenly see a (less nice) carbon copy of your mother following you into the post-secondary life.
Make sure you lock your doors, I don’t care if you’re just going for a coffee down the street. And don’t walk home alone when you have night classes. Holy moly, it was barely even the first day and he was already giving you orders like it was boot camp. Still, you don’t fault him for it. You figured you’d catch yourself forgetting something like that eventually, since these seemingly “normal” procedures might not be the first thing you think of.
Speaking of your first day and Mydei- he insisted on picking you and your friend up after the orientation party.
“Please don’t tell me that stupid mascot was there.” Mydei groans.
“It was.” You reply, giggling as you and your friend hop in the backseats.
“I thought they’d stop doing that, bringing him to all these campus events.” Mydei scoffs, then mumbles something about how the mascot was just dancing in a corner. Clearly the mascot was haunting his dreams.
“Hey, he’s doing his best.” A familiar voice laughs.
Your nose catches onto the realization first, the familiar scent of wheat drifting past you as you shifted into Mydei’s car. You abruptly look up from tugging on the seatbelt and realize- oh. Phainon was here too in the passenger seat. Wait- he looks… different. He wasn’t completely unrecognizable but his voice got lower, and he seemed much more confident which was somehow possible.
Well this was unfair. What was that line you heard from that one video game again? “Doctor- you’re… huge!” And you think that because holy fuck he was huge. From what you could see, his arms got all bulked up with muscle, shoulders extending past the width of the passenger seat of your brother’s car. What the hell happened over one year? Phainon goes through puberty and he gets taller and hotter. You go through puberty and you get pimples and a menstrual cycle. Or in other words: fuck you I guess.
“Is that Phainon? The guy you mentioned?” Your friend whispers to you, which snaps you out of your trance.
“Wha- I mean yes-”
“He’s cute. Super cute.” She whispers with a knowing grin. You’re hoping her statement falls on deaf ears but to your dismay, Phainon turns around, and you finally see his handsome face and smug grin.
“Was I supposed to hear that?~” He asks, looking at you straight in the eye. It wasn’t even the first day yet and your brain was already getting fried. Over a boy of all things.
“No.” You seethe, smacking your forehead at your friend’s whispering that could have been quieter. Phainon laughs.
“Don’t inflate his ego.” Mydei adjusts the rearview mirror, casually making a jab at Phainon. Though, it doesn’t really do anything when Phainon was still smiling.
“So, did you ladies have fun?” Phainon asks smoothly, looking back again, addressing the both of you. Your friend doesn’t answer, and you somehow get the feeling that she wanted you to talk, making your face subconsciously heat up.
“Um, yeah I guess.” You say awkwardly. You don’t know why you get shy when you respond, slowly sinking further into the seats as you struggle to even look at him. Phainon’s the same he’s always been- warm smiles, teasing lilts to his tone just to get you to talk to him, the scent of wheat. Still, your friend nudges your arm, telling you that she too noticed your speechlessness in front of him. Something is different. He is different.
As the car ride goes on, it’s fairly silent. Even though Phainon was sitting in the passenger seat, you couldn’t help but feel aware of your surroundings- like if he was gonna turn around or ask you something again. You tell yourself it was just to prepare yourself if he decides to look at you again. You hate that your eyes trace over him.
“Are you gonna start going out like this every weekend?” Phainon’s poses this question to you and your friend, though his eyes linger on you mostly.
“I dunno… Why?” You inquire, your shoulders slightly tensing when you watch Phainon’s lips curve into a teasing grin again.
“Just curious,” He shrugs. “Maybe you’d be better than Mydei who stayed in his dorm all the time when he was in first year.”
Mydei grumbles, giving Phainon a light shove as his friend giggles.
“There’s nothing to go out so often for.” Mydei proclaims with his arms crossed. His eyes then flicker to you in the rearview mirror, deciding to attack you for no reason like every older sibling does. “You couldn’t even go out without getting lost."
“I’m an adult Mydei.” You protest with an eyeroll as your brother embarrasses you (though he really is just a worrywart).
“Debatable.” Mydei scoffs.
“Mydei!” You yell. Phainon chuckles watching your short banter, then cuts in himself.
“She can handle herself.” Phainon gives Mydei a reassuring smile. There it was again- just a small little boost of confidence, that stupid faith he had in you that casually made you lose it. Not this again.
Still, even as the car pulls next to the curb and you’re ready to flop on your bed and gossip with your friend all night and more importantly brush off these feelings-
“Bye!” Phainon rolls his window down, waving at you. “Don’t stay up too late!”
Your feel that tingle at the back of your neck as you’re stunned at how Phainon said that phrase, though you barely have time to process it.
“Oh my god…” Your friend latches onto your arm, startling you for a second. She hunches over as she walks to your shared dorm together, looking at you with a knowing smile. “Are you gonna address the elephant in the room, or should I just say it?”
“What are you talking about?” You ask in a monotone voice as you unlock your door. You were hoping it wasn’t about-
“Uh hello? This Phainon guy, obviously.” Your friend says with an eye roll as if the topic was plain as day. “You didn’t tell me you guys were a thing.”
“We’re not,” you sputter. “He’s just a friend. My brother’s friend to be exact.”
“Yeah? Well this friend looks pretty happy to see you.” She hums, clearly not convinced. You both walk over to your her bedroom where you sit to talk. You roll your eyes, though you couldn’t stop how your body unconsciously tried turning away from her to hide your face. “He literally turned around to talk to you every five minutes. Did you even know he was gonna come to your orientation to flirt with you?”
You sputter at her bluntness, also not liking the way you got flustered so easily by her observations. But now that you think of it, why did Phainon even come along just to join Mydei to pick you up after your orientation?
“That wasn’t flirting.” You argue, cutting the conversation short and not willing to entertain any more questions. “Anyway- are you gonna tell me about the drama that happened at prom or what?”
You and your friend end up chatting into the late hours. More importantly, you end up skillfully avoiding and not responding to that statement she made. Truthfully, your own thoughts terrify you.
Deep down, a part of you knows that if Phainon was gonna keep talking to you like that- like he was teasing you, being all confident, and smiling and implying he wanted your company, you’re not going to be able to pretend it means nothing.
You remember yourself one year ago, when you confessed to that boy in your school and how embarrassed you felt when he laughed and scoffed. You remember how dumb you felt for misreading things, and believing that it was something more. You can’t let yourself do those things anymore.
Unfortunately for you, confidence looked really good on Phainon.
⋆⋅☼⋅⋆
Age: 18 (a few months later)
You think you settled into your classes and university life pretty well. Looking back at your orientation day, it felt a little ridiculous how much you spent worrying about Phainon’s perception of you. You were convinced that after you pushed him away that night when you were seventeen, that you had ruined everything. Or at least, that’s what you expected. You knew Phainon wasn’t the type to hold grudges or lie, but with the way he looked and talked to you that day, it was if he was entirely unaffected.
As the semester goes by, you realized you were in your head too much after all. You were lingering outside with your friends, already complaining about a group project that was assigned when suddenly you felt a tap on your shoulder.
“Hey, found you.”
It’s Phainon.
“Oh, hey.” Your eyes widen when you realize it’s him. Your eyes trail up to finally meet his gaze, which looked a little too pleased with himself. Was he even aware of how he somehow just became unfairly attractive over one summer? Meanwhile, your friends’ jaws drop at the same time when they notice him spawn out of nowhere, and immediately interpret this as a signal to move two meters away.
“How are classes going?” He asks with a calm smile. You suddenly get a sense of scale of how much taller he got, now that you were with him standing up and not in a car. It was slightly embarrassing to you, how he was hunched over slightly to talk to you better.
“Okay I guess,” You say, shrugging. “Getting busy.”
Your friends watch, half in awe and half-deadpanned as you give Phainon a boring answer. And still, he smiles, remaining engaged as he talks to you.
“Good, good… Do you already have plans for the break?” Phainon asks, almost sheepishly.
“I dunno, probably staying home with Mydei…” You reply. Phainon seems to inhale a little deeper before speaking again.
“I know finals are coming up soon… but I wanted to revive an old tradition, if you’re game?” Phainon asks. You cock your head to the side, unsure of what he meant. “The winter market, back near your home.”
Ah, right. You do remember the winter market- one you went with Mydei and Phainon when you guys were younger. You guys were barely teenagers, insisting you could go out by yourselves, and end up spending a majority of it listening to your brother whine about the cold. Still, it was a much simpler and nostalgic time you considered a core memory.
“Do they still do it?” You ask, your eyes widening at Phainon bringing up something so nostalgic out of the blue. “I don’t know if I could convince Mydei to go… At his grown age I think he’d still complain about the snow.”
“He would do that.” Phainon chuckles breathily, knowing Mydei’s behaviour as well as you. “But I already convinced him to go.”
“You did?” You ask, your eyes widening. You truly underestimated Phainon’s power.
“Well, he did grumble about it for a good five minutes…” Phainon admits, scratching the back of his neck. “But he said he wanted to bring some of our friends, if we were going.”
Mydei has friends?
“Oh… your other friends…” A part of your confidence crumbles at the mention of your brother’s and Phainon’s other friends. You want to go- though you hadn’t really thought of why your heart was urging you to. At the same time, you’re not sure if you’d want to be in a group with randoms you didn’t know. For all you know, they could be just as stinky as your brother! Your response turns slightly dismissive. “I don’t know… I’ll check with Mydei if he’s going first.”
“He will. And if he says no I’ll make him go.” Phainon gives a devious grin and a thumbs up. Your uncomfortable posture turns more relaxed and you smile, seeing exactly what this was- the same game you’ve been playing for years. He was trying to invite you again.
“I’ll think about it.” You say finally. Phainon smiles wider, the corners of his eyes crinkling like he subtly won you over.
“I’ll hold you to it.” He leans closer with a wink, and you think your brain stops functioning for a good second. He then straightens, giving you a casual wave before walking off. “See you then.”
You watch as his figure walks away, spotting one of his friend groups nearby and jogging to them. And-
“Oh. My. God.” Oh yeah, you almost forgot that your friends are still standing there.
They squealed and whispered animatedly, all nosy about your ties with this hot guy and theorizing on whether you’ve been dating or if the flirting was normal. The bombardment of questions and exclamations obviously pointing out Phainon’s… Phainon-ness made it hard to conceal your nerves. Wait- why were you nervous again?
“You guys-” You attempt to compose yourself, but your stammer already gives out your subconscious feelings. “You guys are delusional. Just because some attractive guy happens to be talking to me doesn’t mean anything romantic.”
“So you think he’s hot.” One of your friends chides, completely ignoring your argument and latching on a random detail. You pause for a moment, your mouth agape as you realize the small slip you made. You shake your head dramatically to dismiss any other thoughts, but your roommate beats you to answering that.
“That’s (Y/N)’s friend, Phainon.” Your roommate so graciously corrects with air quotes around the word friend. You have no idea why your cheeks start to burn up when your roommate sarcastically addresses Phainon as your friend. Or was it just an intrusive thought that you seemed like more than friends? Either way, you hope your flustered expression is not seen by your friend group. “And I’ve been saying the exact same things to her, but she’s denying the… well- whatever’s going on between them.”
“He’s literally my brother’s friend.” You roll your eyes as you correct her, emphasizing the involvement of Mydei in this whole ordeal. “As in he’s known me since I was like thirteen?”
“Uh-oh, that’s dangerous~” One friend sing-songs with a smug grin. “That means he’s already got a leg up in the game. And judging by what I just saw, men like him are hard to find. Y’know- kind, hot, knows all your habits?”
You want to roll your eyes again and ready to deny all these claims your friends are making, but you find yourself replaying that whole conversation with Phainon just now. Knows all your habits? It was certainly dangerous but not in the same way your friend stated. It was more like dangerous in the way that you didn't want Phainon remembering every embarrassing thing you did in front of him and being close enough that he would bring it up. You think back to how he kept trying to include you and ask you questions about yourself, and when you realize the exact same thing just happened-
“Sooo, what did he talk to you about?” Your friend interrupts your spiralling, and the rest of the group turns their heads to you expectantly.
“He asked if I wanted to go to a winter market thingy we have back home.” You say casually. Your friends squeal- making you groan at their overreaction.
“And? What did you say?”
“I said I’d think about it.” You shrug. Your friends dramatically sigh with disappointment, their hands sliding down their faces.
“Okay- why did you say you’ll think about it? This is like… textbook winter arc in a shoujo manga where the leads go on a date and share hot chocolate.” Your roommate says incredulously. You roll your eyes, ignoring her obvious teasing as prepare to explain.
“It’s not a date.” You protest with an exhausted sigh. “Mydei and a few of their friends are going too.”
“Damn, that’s a lot of wheels.” She scoffs. The rest of your friends giggle.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You deadpan, the joke going over your head.
“Nothing.” She beams. “Anyway, what’s wrong with other people going?”
“It’s gonna be awkward as hell…” You groan, gritting your teeth as you drag out the words. Being as introverted as you are, situations like this felt iffy for you. You really don’t want to seem difficult, but if he was inviting other people you didn’t know, you felt like the odd one out.
“So?” She scoffs, grabbing you by the shoulders lazily. “He’s going. He wants you there. He basically just asked you out. Isn’t that enough reason?”
You pause for a moment, your roommate’s argument surprisingly getting to you.
“...That doesn’t mean anything.” You finally utter. Your friends groan in unison.
“Oh shut up, he’s cute! Just let yourself like him!”
Your eyes widen at the bold command. Your friends burst out laughing, enjoying your embarrassed reactions from this so called gossip. It really sucks how now you couldn’t contain the tiny smile that creeps onto your face.
Before you knew it, your thoughts spiralled and you couldn’t stop thinking about how Phainon smiled at you, or how easily he was able to spot you here on campus. Your gaze flickers briefly to Phainon’s direction again, where he was talking with his friend group. You end up staring for too long because Phainon seems to feel your eyes burning into him, and he turns his head to look at you. You awkwardly look away, not knowing whether to play it off or keep looking- either way it was gonna make you suspicious. But Phainon doesn’t seem to think so, because he sends you a small smile and a wave before going back to speaking with his friends.
And now, with your friends observations combining with your own buried feelings, you’re realizing how hard it’s getting to believe that he was just a friend. You thought you’ve convinced yourself that you saw him as strictly a friend of your brother’s that you just happened to get to know. You thought you weren’t going to make another silly mistake about a boy. But… you’d be lying if you said you never thought he was… kinda…-
“Also- don’t you think (Y/N)’s brother is kinda cute?~”
Ew. Your friends continue giggling, not caring that they just called your brother hot in front of you. Yup, daydream-y thoughts gone.
Nothing else needs to be said when a guttural scream tears from your throat.
⋆⋅☼⋅⋆
Age: 18 (Winter break)
A couple weeks after stressing over exams, you find yourself standing in the middle of the winter market. For some reason, you felt like being here in and of itself was another way of admitting the real reason you were going- another way for your friends to tease you about you-know-who.
Speaking of friends, you realized something about Mydei’s friends.
You stuck to Mydei that night as you waited for the rest of the group to arrive. The market was glowing with the same warm lights and cold air, festive music drifting through the crowd. When they arrived, you greeted them all politely, offering a small smile. But you notice something-
All of Mydei’s friends were gorgeous.
What the fuck? As if it couldn’t make you any more anxious than you already were, they had to be stunning too. Even in the cold winter weather they dressed like they came out of a shoot for Vogue. You look at your own attire and feel hyperaware of how your coat makes you look like a puffball, and you tuck your hands in your pockets.
You see a girl with whitish hair that bleeds into a light purple, a cheerful girl with pink hair tied in two pigtails, a group of four that- wait… were those the twins? Stelle and Caelus? Oh god- you didn’t know they were a part of this hang out. Okay, it was probably dramatic to have this intrusive thought of hiding right now- but you couldn’t help it. They were well known across campus, and you couldn’t fathom them having connections to your brother of all people.
“Hey,” You feel somebody tap your shoulder and you turn around quickly- it’s Phainon. “You came.”
“Oh. Yeah.” You nod, breathing out. Your heart does that stupid flip again as you see Phainon- cheeks rosy already from the coldness, and flashing a toothy grin like it meant a lot to him.
“He’s just a friend. My brother’s friend to be exact.” “That’s (Y/N)’s friend, Phainon.” You remember yours and your friends’ phrases being thrown around when Phainon was being introduced. You tell yourself again the same thing- that he’s just a friend, and this didn’t mean anything. That Phainon was just being friendly like he always was, and that whatever fluttering feeling you’re getting in your chest was just some naive hope that needed to be buried away again.
The group moves slowly through the market, a safe distance enough to explore the booths and keeping sight of each other. You mostly stay near the back, hands tucked in your coat pockets as you listen to the group more than talking.
Before you could take notice of it, one of the girls falls into step with you.
“Hi! I don’t think we’ve met.” It’s the pink haired girl. “I’m Hyacine. You’re Mydei’s little sister, (Y/N), right?”
“Oh- hi. Nice to meet you.” You reply, adjusting your scarf to try and not seem anti-social. She then taps Mydei on the shoulder, who was walking in front of you two.
“Mydei, you’re sister is way cuter than you!” Hyacine clasps her hands theatrically and beams.
“Um… thanks?” Mydei blinks, then turns back. Hyacine laughs, and even you manage a small giggle. You kind of appreciate her humour (and jab at Mydei) and hope you didn’t come off as a stranger anymore.
Before you could overthink it, Hyacine tugs you over to one of the booths, asking if you liked cute things. You stumble a little as the girl drags you to who knows where, though you reply saying you do. You notice the little unicorn plushie on her bag, and felt that it was on brand for her.
“Over here!” Hyacine giggles, not caring that you both were obviously straying from the group. There was no time to protest as you both weaving through the crowds until you both stop at one of the artist booths. You look around at what Hyacine wanted you to see, and see various keychains, stickers, and cute little handmade plushies lining the table. They were soft, mismatched coloured little creatures, sitting as if waiting for someone to adopt them.
“These are so cute!” Hyacine’s eyes light up, flickering from plush to plush. She silently hoped you felt enjoyment from this too. “Oh- and this one too.”
“They are.” You blink, picking one of the plushies up. It was a small pastel coloured star with a crooked smile. You thoughtfully turn it in your hands as you admire it. You wouldn’t lie if you said it didn’t intrigue you…
“Oh (Y/N)- that one matches your jacket!” Hyacine exclaims, pointing at the similarity.
“Huh? Oh yeah, it does.” You glance down at your attire and the coincidence that the plush you grabbed was the same colour. You didn’t even realize, but it was as if it was a subconscious gesture.
You stare down at the little star’s cute face and dangly legs. It was cute, and you certainly appreciate the maker’s craftsmanship. But you sigh, putting it down. “Mydei would probably scold me if I bought another one.”
“Aw, really? But he’s gonna be lonely. He even matches you!” Hyacine pouts, then shows you her unicorn plush. “You could match like me!”
You’re about to give an apologetic smile, but you think about the giant horde of stuffed toys you have at home and in your dorm and you feel like-
“What are we looking at?” Phainon’s voice comes from behind you, and you turn your head a bit too fast to where he was peering between you guys. Phainon bends slightly to take a closer look, snow dusting the shoulders of his coat. You get a whiff of his cologne and you have to look away. He looks relaxed in that unfairly easy way of his, even for doing something as basic as looking at stuff.
“We’re looking at stuffies!” Hyacine says joyfully. You shrink into your scarf a little, hoping Phainon doesn’t find it childish that you’re looking at plushies. “(Y/n) likes the star.”
“Hyacine-”
“The one with the little legs?” Phainon says simply. His eyes then flicker down to the one in your hand. “Were you gonna buy that one?”
“Oh-” You’re almost startled at how quickly Phainon noticed the plush in your hand, and you set it back down on the table. “Yeah- I mean… it’s cute, but I already have a lot of plushies at home.”
Phainon seems to be deep in thought as he stares between you and the star plush, but doesn’t say a word. You’re hoping he accepts your excuse and moves on.
“Where were you? And everyone else?” Hyacine pipes up, tilting her head at Phainon.
“I was looking at the ceramics. I lost everyone else a while ago, but- oh, Cyrene said to regroup at the seats near the hot chocolate stand.” Phainon explains. A shiver runs through your spine as you briefly remember what your roommate said about this hangout being straight out of a shoujo manga. “You ladies can head back there when you’re finished. I’m gonna try looking for the others.”
“Okay, see you in a bit!” Hyacine waves to Phainon, then turns back to you. “Are you sure you don’t want to buy anything?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” You say with a bittersweet smile. “I’ll probably forget about it in a few days.”
Hyacine nods, not wanting to pressure you. You turn away from the booth and walk with her towards the designated meeting place within the food vendor area. It was getting later, but from the way you were bumping shoulders with people, it felt like the amount of people were increasing. You both eventually find a few of the others at one of the picnic benches and join them to wait for the rest to arrive. You sigh, as you finally get a chance to sit down. Simply walking around a marketplace somehow exhausted you more than you thought.
For a moment, you close your eyes to rest from the clamour. Suddenly, you hear a little jingle coming from near you and you open them at the soft sound.
“Hey.” Phainon stands in front of you, one hand holding a small fabric gift bag tied with sparkly string and tiny metal ornaments. From the lighting of this area, you could finally see the snowflakes clinging to his hair- even though they were the same colour. He sits down beside you, looking almost amused at your startled expression.
“Hey, did you find everyone?” Hyacine leans over from the other side of the picnic table.
“Most of them. I think Cyrene found the others I didn’t.” Phainon replies. On cue, Mydei and a few others walk past and take their own seats at the table. Phainon’s attention shifts back to you, still holding out the bag.
“What’s this?” You ask suspiciously taking the bag. You felt your heart beating faster, not believing it was what you thought it was.
“For you.” Phainon replies simply, waiting to see your reaction.
“What did you get her?” Hyacine gasps with glee, leaning closer in anticipation. The curiosity overwhelms you too, and you freeze as you peek into the bag.
The little star plushie stares back at you.
“You- You bought it?” You ask softly, though your eyes going wide gave away that you were surprised. Phainon watches your expression carefully, and tries not to smile too much. “Phainon, you didn’t have to.”
“You liked it, didn’t you?” He counters, leaning his elbows on the surface of the table. And oh, how you hated how his casual response mirrored what your friends said to you a few weeks before- about something as simple as this being reason enough. Phainon never seemed to stop, like helping you was the easiest thing in the world.
You stare down at the plushie, then between him and Hyacine. “I told Hyacine I’d forget about it eventually.”
Phainon tilts his head slightly. “Would you have?”
You idly look at Phainon, whose eyes seem to burn into yours with intensity, turning the question into a challenge. It makes you more flustered.
“I-” You stammer, your jaw going slack, not being able to form an answer. You end up sighing with a smile, realizing any excuse you might make would be null in the end. You clutch the plush a little tighter in your hands. “...I guess I wouldn’t have.”
Phainon grins softly at your surrender, the market lights reflecting off his face beautifully.
By this time, the entire group had finally come together and decided to chill out here. You continued talking to Phainon, and for a while, you forget that you were here as a group- like it was just you two.
“Are you doing okay?” He asks you. “You seemed a little distant earlier.”
“I’m fine.” You say automatically. Phainon hums, not convinced. Somehow the tiny pout he sports makes you want to be vulnerable and tell him the truth, so you continue. “I just- it’s hard keeping up with everyone.”
Your reason sounded strange, but Phainon understood what you meant. He nods, but doesn’t push you, giving a reassuring grin. “You can just hang with me.”
The offer is casual, yet it makes you feel warm in the cold weather. And once again it’s like deja vu- where you felt like there was absolutely no reason for him to include you or make you feel comfortable in any way or for any reason. Yet he does. He always does.
“How did first semester treat you?” He says, changing the subject as he bumps his knee lightly against yours.
“It was pretty normal.” You shrug. “I made a few friends, complained about professors and group projects a little. Exams were stressful, but nothing too out of the blue.”
“Complained enough to write a bad review on them?” He asks, clearly instigating. You watch as Phainon’s eyes twinkle mischievously, and you knew the website he was referring to. You snort before you could stop yourself, and Phainon grins faintly at the sound, visibly pleased he was able to pull it from you.
“How else do you think I’m gonna spend my break?” You ask with a bit of sass. He laughs, nodding with approval. Phainon then shifts closer to you a little, his posture becoming more upright. It was subtle, but enough that he was creating a space where his attention felt undivided now.
“You know…” He starts lightly. “We used to hang out more before university started.”
You’re caught off guard by his sudden observation. You didn’t expect him to speak up about the weird distance between you guys, but he was right. The last time you properly saw him was… before that day you bawled your eyes out and then shoved him away when he tried to comfort you. You cringe at the memory. God, you hope he forgot about that and remembered a different day when the two of you and Mydei were happy and playing games or something.
“I- have we…? What about… orientation?” Your grip on the plush tightens a little out of nervousness. You knew damn well orientation didn’t count for shit. Still, you attempt to feign obliviousness to ease some of the discomfort you felt inside, but Phainon chuckles, catching on immediately.
“Yeah? And you probably saw the mascot more than me.” He pouts jokingly.
“No I didn’t-” You stammer, but suddenly stop yourself when you realize he could be right. You internally beat yourself up at the thought.
“I’m just teasing.” Phainon laughs softly, then continues in a quieter tone. “Still… I kinda miss talking to you.”
And there it was. For once your heart wants to remember what it feels like to be wanted like this. You watch as Phainon straightens and closes his eyes for a second too long before continuing, as if he was trying to gather some confidence to prove the intention behind it.
“So,” His smile returns, charming as you’ve always known. “Do you wanna hang out sometime? Just us.”
Just as you thought your heartbeat could slow down, Phainon always seems to do something to prove that it was alive- that something inside was existing. Despite your shock and silence, Phainon doesn’t corner you with his proposal.
“We could go to a cafe, and I could buy you dessert… Or we can play video games over the break… Anything that doesn’t involve that stupid mascot.” He adds easily. Phainon gets another laugh out of you, and you somehow feel lighter. A beat of silence goes by again, and you watch as Phainon looks at you in anticipation.
“Yeah, I’d love that.” You say breathily, a smile escaping you. Phainon exhales, looking strangely relieved, like he-
“Phainon-” Another voice suddenly interrupts, and you both whip your head to the source from across the picnic bench. It was another pink haired girl- albeit a slightly deeper shade of pink than Hyacine’s. Her name was Cyrene, if you remembered correctly. “Wait, are you blushing?” The girl tilts her head at Phainon, and you almost choke on air. Phainon bursts out laughing.
“I’m not.” He turns to Cyrene, insisting with a charming smile, putting his hands up in mock surrender. You take a closer look at his cheeks now that his face was turned more to the side. You swear you saw a bit of pink… was he- no, surely this was just the cold getting to his skin.
“Well you sure blush like you were just caught flirting.” Cyrene snaps back with a bit of attitude. You’re not really sure what to do in this situation, and seemingly neither does Phainon as he looks like he’s being teased by his friend. Cyrene then turns towards you with a soft smile.
“My name is Cyrene. You’re (Y/n), right?~” Cyrene asks, and you nod in response. You found it peculiar how everything she said sounded both playful and sweet- like a song. She looks at you with her eyes bright and cheerful. “You’re really pretty, you know that?”
“I-I am…?” Your cheeks go warm as you short circuit at the sudden compliment. Hyacine who had been off engaging with the others returns to insert herself in this conversation, and nods along, agreeing. Wait, Hyacine- she was supposed to be on your side!
“Mhm~ So…” Cyrene drags out her words with a devious smile, wagging a threatening finger at Phainon. “If you are flirting, you do know Mydei would beat you up, right?”
“I would.” Mydei lazily chimes in from a few seats down, diagonal to you. You almost forgot he was here. Phainon’s skill at isolating you guys was certainly effective. Your brother’s two little words give you mixed thoughts: one making note of how little hesitation or humour there was in his tone, and another where you seriously have concerns of your brother threatening to beat someone up again. Perhaps a trip to a rage room was due soon.
“See? He just said he would kill you.” Cyrene enunciates, clearly understanding that her friend didn’t seem to register the what she was implying. Oddly enough, Phainon just chuckles.
“And, I wouldn’t blame him.”
The rest of the conversation becomes a blur. You start losing track of what they were saying after Cyrene groaned at Phainon for being an oblivious puppy in knowing the consequences. What a bizarre answer… …Consequences of what?
You think back to the compliments Hyacine and Cyrene paid you, saying you were cute and pretty. You thought it was just girls hyping another girl up- as girls do. But then you think of Cyrene calling out Phainon for blushing and threats for him potentially flirting, and wonder if she was teasing him… or if she actually meant it. There was a part of you that was in disbelief, inching closer to the fact that… you might actually have a chance.
On top of all that, there was Phainon’s own reply, confirming that he’d take a beating from your brother if he actually did cross a line. You tell yourself you were reading too much into it again.
“So… I’ll see you soon, right (Y/n)?”
That night after everyone bid their farewells, and you and Mydei returned home in your childhood home, you quickly crash into the warmth of your bed and whip out your phone. You contemplate whether calling your roommate was gonna lead to her lovingly bullying you again, but you end up telling her everything anyway.
“I don’t know what else to tell you, girl.” Your roommate sighs endearingly at you through the phone. “He made an effort to invite you, he looked for you, bought you a present... I don’t think you’re imagining things… so what do you have to lose?”
You notice that you’ve gotten too excited from how high your heart rate must be. Your smile falters (not realizing that you were even smiling this whole time in the first place), and you remember your own consequences.
“...That’s just the problem.” You sigh back, sitting up properly now. “I don’t want to be delusional again. I can’t just launch myself into… whatever this is and make up assumptions that aren’t real.” You grab your little star plush Phainon got you from your bag. You glance down at your star plushie again, fiddling with its stupid little legs, thinking- why does a star even need to have legs?
Your roommate’s voice softens. “But it feels different, doesn’t it?”
You don’t end up answering her.
“I’m not expecting anything.” You say finally. Despite these months of your stubbornness with the topic of Phainon, your roommate doesn’t argue. She just smiles knowingly on the other side of the line, and lets it go.
You conclude the call by telling her the rest of the whole marketplace experience, and her own winter break shenanigans. Later, when your room is quiet, you lie back on your bed, holding the star plush up to the ceiling.
You look at its silly dangly legs, finding something so out of place cute that makes it different from the rest. Stars were supposed to stay high above everyone else, beautiful from a distance.
But perhaps this star had been made to reach people anyway.
⋆⋅☼⋅⋆
Age: 19, second semester
Winter break came and went pretty fast. You and Mydei spend it mostly at home, spending time with your mom. Phainon went back to his hometown for the break as well. Like you said yourself, you weren’t expecting anything to happen during this time.
That is, until, a week after your second semester started, you started receiving texts from Phainon already. You remember your eyes widening at your phone screen when Phainon asked you if you wanted to do something during the weekends. From something as small as asking to join him in playing video games, to him insisting on accompanying you to a bookstore for your manga series, you said yes. Some small part inside you craved spending time with him, and you realized you did miss him a lot all this time. You felt like you reconnected with Phainon- just like when you were kids.
At the end of the semester, one of your peers decided to host a mixer and invited everyone in the class. The invitation sat in your messages for a while before you accepted it. A mixer… Just the thought alone of being invited sent a quiet thrill in your spine.
Now, standing in front of the mirror, there was a brief moment where you wondered if you looked like you were trying too hard with your outfit… or too little. You wore something that showed a little more skin- a little more mature and confident, something you didn’t usually wear. Still, you decide not to dwell on the issue for long and head out.
By the time you reached the location, there was already music and familiar people from your class there. People were clustered up, animatedly talking, hopefully having fun after the stress of final exams. A girl from your class waves you over, and passes a light drink to you. Soon enough, you overcame the initial anxiety and it felt freeing to mix in with the group.
Well, only for the first ten minutes.
You were going to excuse yourself to say hi to another acquaintance when a white-haired mass suddenly came into view- a particularly tall and handsome white-haired mass.
Phainon? Here of all places?
Your stomach drops and you quickly duck near a corner, careful not to spill your drink or look crazy sneaking around. You peek over and see Phainon with his back turned, leaning against the kitchen island as he engages in conversation with other people.
Your pulse was getting frantic, but you take a deep breath to try and calm yourself. Oh, but who were you kidding? If Phainon saw you here, you were sure that he would report you to Mydei within the minute.
Phainon walks away from the kitchen counter, going off somewhere else, and you go the same direction as him to not cross paths with him. Could it be possible to avoid him this whole time? God, it was stupid when you thought about it. You basically just got here, and it shouldn’t even be scary to see Phainon here. But you weren’t really in the mood to see his smug grin or get lectured by your brother. Maybe you could hang with someone else and hide-
“That’s an interesting strategy.” A voice murmurs in your ear.
Phainon was already standing behind you, bending down to your height and way too close as amusement curls at the edge of his lips.
“Ah- Phainon! You scared me!” You hiss, your face going warm with embarrassment as you jolt backwards. Phainon only grins wider at your startled reaction. You become defensive, eyeing him up suspiciously. “What- why are you here?”
“I know the host.” Phainon says easily, then cheekily fires the same question to you. “What are you doing here?”
“Nothing.” You grit. Phainon chuckles and shakes his head at your answer, and you internally smack your forehead. Out of all excuses, you had to say the most suspicious one?
“Nothing but drinking, you mean?” Phainon inquires, pointing at your cup and clicks his tongue in mock disapproval. “Mydei won’t be happy to hear this.”
Your face freezes at the mention of Mydei potentially knowing you were here. “I-It’s only five percent alcohol!”
“Ooh, how scandalous.” Phainon laughs, and you puff your cheeks in frustration of him teasing you.
“Oh shut up. I came here by myself so I’m not here to get drunk.” You say, rolling your eyes.
“Even more scandalous.” He says with a whistle, and you groan. Phainon’s eyes soften, sensing he’s teased you enough. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Mydei.”
Phainon’s words surprise you a little. Oddly enough, he let's you have fun and doesn't report you like you thought he would.
As the night went on, you were pulled into conversations and stupid debates, laughing at some of your peers’ weird dance moves. Every now and then, you’d catch sight of Phainon somewhere across the house- sometimes talking to other people, sometimes smiling at you, and sometimes bumping your hip beside you as he indulges the conversation with you.
The buzz of the music gets louder as the night goes on. You participate in the fun, but eventually you start feeling tired. Phainon notices and he taps your shoulder, leaning down, telling you something… but you don’t hear anything. Because he was so close, you suddenly realize the golden sun tattoo on the side of his neck- when did he get that? As Phainon spoke, you felt a little rush inside you, making you space out. You tried making sense of your surroundings but you soon realize that he was taking over all your senses. What you could see, what you could smell… muting all of them into one: him. Was he experiencing the same buzzing feeling? You watched as his lips curved up into a grin, whispering something to you. You stare at his lips- a faint blush colour, soft and plump… you wondered what it would feel like if you…
You nod plainly in response to him, though his words clearly weren’t getting through to you. Phainon realizes you were spacing out and he chuckles lightly and stands back up, holding his hand out. You blankly take it and he guides you out of the party. Also, did you just think of-
“You okay? I asked if you were getting tired.” Phainon breathes out, his voice finally reaching your ears.
“Hm- oh, yeah, I’m fine.” You perk up as you snap out of your daze. “I am a little tired…”
“I’ll drive you back then.” He says, already taking his car keys out. He phrases it not even as a question, like he would do it for you regardless. “Do you have everything?”
You nod, and you both get into his car. The drive back to your dorm was strangely quiet. It was slightly awkward since your peer’s house wasn’t even that far from your residence, so the ride was gonna be short. However, it felt like there was something else underneath. It was something heavy, but not an uncomfortable-pit-in-your-stomach type of heavy. It was something more charged.
The blinker clicks lightly while the streetlights gradually slide across Phainon’s face in fleeting moments. His jaw, his mouth, the curve of his hands gripping the steering wheel. You looked away before you could get caught staring. God, you were going crazy for sure, you think.
Your pulse still hasn’t settled. Was it adrenaline from the party? Maybe so, but even then it shouldn’t make you think of kis-
“We’re here.” Phainon softly sing-songs. You get out of the car, and Phainon decides to walk you to your door. Again, not a question.
When you both walk into the building together, you realized it was sort of awkward with the both of you being silent this whole time. Even more so as you arrived in the narrow hallway just outside your door. Phainon walks behind you, close enough that his presence alone fills your space. As you stop at your door, you decide to say something, though he’s closer than you expect when you turn to him. You clear your throat, your hand fumbling inside your purse to find your keys to regulate yourself.
“Thanks for the ride.” You say, looking up at him gratefully. “And… thanks for not snitching on me.”
Phainon huffs a quiet laugh. “Anytime.”
You smiled despite yourself, like it was a subconscious thing- maybe it even a contagious thing, knowing Phainon was here. Even as you briefly look down to take your keys out, Phainon was already looking at you, like he had something to say, but he doesn’t.
You were about to unlock your door and say goodbye, but somehow your body doesn’t want to listen. You don’t feel like doing it. Your dreamy daze continues, your eyes dipping over Phainon’s outfit. You suddenly felt aware of how good he looked in a white skin-tight shirt and jeans- did he always wear things like this? You catch a glimpse of the sun tattoo you saw earlier beneath the collar of his shirt, and you even swear you see a broad gold ring on his chest- another hidden one beneath his shirt. It makes you even more curious- but more than that, it made you want him.
Before you knew it, your body had a mind of its own, leaning in without shame with your hands shyly but certainly reaching for him- to be closer to him. Your fingers brush his, and your breath hitches, the sparks making you second guess if you should even be doing this. But when you finally bring yourself to look up at him, his gaze was already looking down to your mouth.
“(Y/n)...” HIs voice drops, barely louder than a breath. His expression softens, yet his pupils were blown wide, as if there was something unguarded slipping through. He leans in, slow and careful, giving you time to pull away. Your breathing and your heart beats faster than ever. This definitely wasn’t just the adrenaline from the party.
Suddenly, a small click is heard and Phainon mutters a curse and pulls away quickly.
Wait…
You were stunned for a few seconds, watching as he pulled back. Before you could think of how to react, your door swings open to reveal Mydei looking sleepy yet confused. Oh yeah, your roommate already went home for the summer, so now you had a giant cat invading your space. You told Mydei you were gonna go out with some friends and then go back home with him after- you forgot you left him lounging here for a while.
“Where were you?” Mydei quirks an eyebrow at you, and gives an even more skeptical look at Phainon. “And what are you doing here?”
“I was just dropping her off.” Phainon says lightly, though you could tell he was trying his best to not sound shaky. You weren’t sure how it was possible for him to reply and make up something so calmly. Especially since the skin of your hand was still buzzing where you touched his just seconds ago. “She just got caught up saying bye to some friends.” Mydei gives him a weird look, but doesn’t question you both, and you give a sigh of relief.
Your brother and Phainon make small talk, both asking if they were heading home for the summer. Meanwhile, you remained silent, in your own little bubble unable to calm your racing heart.
“Get some rest.” Phainon addresses you with a simple wave, and just like that, he was gone. God, you wanted to… you wish you could…
“Why is he even still here on campus?” Mydei interrupts your train of thought as he holds your door open for you.
“O-Oh… I dunno. I bumped into him on the way back.” You say casually, walking into your dorm. Lies. “Why are you here so early…?”
“It’s night time.” Mydei retorts back. “Anyway, are you done packing your stuff?”
You nod, and quickly grab your bags and head back home with Mydei.
The drive was silent, but for you it wasn’t. Even though you were exhausted after the mixer, you couldn’t seem to be able to rest during the long drive home. You look out the window, a small smile plastered on your face as you replay that brief yet charged moment in your head. The way he leaned in, the way you could feel his breath on your lips as he whispered your name…
You almost kissed him.
Was it always like this? Your heart was beating fast as it always did, but for once you didn’t feel surprised. It felt more like… you were finally letting yourself do something you always wanted to do. Like you’ve been waiting and wanting something, and that it was okay to want things.
Maybe it was just the realization that Phainon was always perfectly within your grasp.
⋆⋅☼⋅⋆
Age: 19, Summer Break
Phainon: Good morning.
Phainon: I’m sorry about last night.
It’s been a good twelve hours since you and Phainon almost kissed. At first you thought you had hallucinated it, and that you became delusional for real. Just as you had believed that this was just a figment of your imagination, Phainon never texted you- until this morning.
(Y/n): Phainon, I don’t understand.
(Y/n): Was it something I did…?
Phainon: No, god no. Never.
(Y/n): Then why are you apologizing?
You felt your smile drop, the warmth from last night following suit, slowly leaking away.
Phainon: Because I'm sorry if I crossed a line.
Phainon: You didn’t do anything wrong. I just didn’t want things to be awkward between us.
And it’s just so funny, isn’t it? How you’ve kept yourself safe on your own little island, with walls built so high and an army to guard your heart. And the one time you decide to let them down and embrace the sunlight, it hurts so much more.
Confusion seems to consume you, making you anxious. The thought that you might have been too forward and was reading it all wrong feel like deja vu, specifically the same bitter feeling that you were so used to. The mere thought that Phainon didn’t want this to happen, makes your stomach coil. However, underneath the dreadful feeling was something else- because this wasn’t about you. Although you had this uncomfortable twinge of fear you refused to admit out loud, it wasn’t for yourself, but for Phainon. You stay rigid in your bed, staring at your phone. What exactly was Phainon thinking of that you weren’t?
A week later, you start getting antsy because you realize how quiet your summer vacation began. You continue to get nothing from Phainon. You gave him the benefit of the doubt, assuming he was probably busy with things back home. But as your phone sits on your desk, the screen continuing to be dark and empty, you find yourself constantly checking it, and it didn’t take long for your mind to spiral.
It’s ironic how noticeable an absence can be.
Later, just past noon, you start to smell food being prepared, so you go down to investigate. You realized your mom was going all out for some reason, seasoning steaks and cutting vegetables as your kitchen became a room with groceries stacked high. There seemed to be something in the oven already as well. You get curious and decide to ask Mydei what your mother was preparing for.
“Hey.” You ask as you walk into his room, seeing him lounging and playing a video game lazily.
“Hey.” He responds. Mydei eyes you a little for a second then goes back to focusing on his game. “You’ve been in your room for a while.”
“Yeah…” You sigh a little sheepishly as Mydei points it out, straightforward as always. “Do you know what mom is preparing all that food for?”
“We’re barbecuing tonight, remember?” Mydei replies smoothly without looking up from his game. “I’ve got a honeycake in the oven too.”
Mydei was in charge of the cake apparently, and already had it in baking in the oven. You soften at the thought. And then you don’t because he might have put boogers in there.
“Oh… that’s a lot of food.” You remark. Something feels off for some reason, ironically like an emptiness despite the feast being prepared.
When you walked into his room, you considered asking your brother what he would do if he was hypothetically faced with the situation you were- with Phainon that is. But then you already think of his response and- “I dunno, they both sound like idiots to me.” Yep, no help at all. To think you almost considered bucking up the courage to ask your brother for advice, when it should be better to question his reliability.
Instead, you ask him a more direct question-
“...Is Phainon coming?” You ask. Your cheeks get a little warm, but satisfying your curiosity was more important.
The mention of Phainon seems to get Mydei’s attention a little more. “...No?”
It’s ironic how one little word could get you to frown so easily. But it simply didn’t sound right to you. Ever since you were teenagers, Phainon has came over consistently to your house, showing up to practically everything. Barbecues, birthdays, movie nights… or even the simple weekends where nothing special was happening, he ended up staying longer than expected. And when you all became older and busier, he always made the effort to show up at least once. There had never been a question of whether he was coming.
“Oh…” The disappointed response tumbles out of your mouth before you even thought about it. You tell yourself that Phainon wasn’t obligated to come over, that he had his own life and responsibilities. Heck, he wasn’t even your friend first- he was technically Mydei’s but…
Still…
“Why do you ask?” Mydei asks, pausing his video game, sensing that you were concerned about something deeper.
It still felt wrong to you.
“Because… I thought he’d be coming. He always comes over during the summer…” You reply cautiously.
“So?”
“So... he’s your best friend.”
“Isn’t he also yours?” Mydei retorts back skeptically.
“Well yeah… but usually you invite him over.” You say meekly.
“I asked him already.” Mydei sighs. “Said he was busy.”
A lump forms in your throat. God, what were you supposed to do now? There were too many things unsaid, and even more things you wanted to ask. A part of you felt like Phainon’s response was an excuse- that if you didn’t get him now, that he’d just get farther from you. Were you going to have to wait until who knows when to talk to Phainon again?
As your hand idly trails along your brother’s bedroom wall, it was like you’ve experienced this before. You, at thirteen years old, gathering all the courage you had (none) to nervously enter in your brother’s room to get your charger back- all at the expense of meeting Phainon. You remember how shy you were when Phainon tried talking to you that time, how weirded out you were when he tried to include you out of the blue. You were at the same place you were then- at the threshold of Mydei's doorway until Phainon stole the last word, calling out one last thing.
"Maybe next time then."
Before you could overthink it, you push yourself off the wall and face Mydei again.
“Can you ask him again?” You ask, and Mydei gives you a weird look.
“Why would I- he’s gonna say no again.” Mydei says. Now, why would his dear sister actively request Phainon’s presence? Even you, the sister, do not know.
“Tell him I want him there.” You reply. The quiet determination in your eyes almost shocks Mydei.
He blinks at you for a split second, like he understood the meaning behind it. Your brother doesn’t question you for once. He doesn’t get suspicious, or feel the need to protect you.
“...Fine.” Mydei sighs and picks up his phone again, and you watch as his fingers tap the screen to send the new text to Phainon. You stand there biting your lip, not even sure if this would work. You can’t even believe that Mydei actually agreed to do it.
You thank your brother, and finally walk out of his bedroom, knowing the response might take time. But not even a second after you step into your own room, a buzz comes from your phone.
Phainon: Hey, I’m on my way. I’ll be there around 5.
Phainon: Thanks for inviting me
A glimmer of hope finally starts to exist within your mind. Phainon was coming, simply because you asked. And maybe you were right about him- maybe he was just waiting for you, just like he always has.
A few hours later, your doorbell rings. Your mom is the first to dash to the door, dropping everything to greet Phainon with a bone-crushing hug. Of course, Phainon’s used to it so it does little to affect him.
“Phainon! Oh my goodness, look at you!” Your mother coos, the same endearments making Phainon chuckle. She continues gushing about Phainon as if he was family already- which in a sense he was. “You’ve grown so much- and so handsome too! Mydei, can you believe it?”
You can smell your brother’s eyeroll from here. Meanwhile, Phainon smiles easily, nodding and murmuring something polite and charming. You haven’t even gone down to greet him yet, but little does anyone else know, hearing his voice- the mere existence and knowledge that he was here sent a thrill through you.
You hear your mother tell the boys that the barbecue will start soon, and they should wash up. The boys insist on helping your mom and they argue in a good-natured way. They split up and start preparing different things, with Mydei helping your mom prepare the grill. You hesitate for a moment, but take this as a cue to finally talk to Phainon.
You walk out from your bedroom, and as you linger at the top of the stairs looking down, Phainon seems to subconsciously pause mid-motion. Your heart still skipped when he looked at you- hands tucked into his pockets and white messy hair catching the sunlight from outside your backyard’s door. He subtly turns his head to you, and his smile was still there- soft, slightly hopeless, and nervous, like he was bracing himself for this moment just as you have.
“Hey…” He says lightly. It’s only been one week since you last saw him, yet it feels like it’s been a year. He even greets you like it’s been a year, and you knew he was feeling the same thing you were. You step closer, and you watch as his eyes attempt to hide the tension.
“Hi…” You take a deep breath, the feeling of determination not helping you steady your nerves. But truthfully, you cared more that he was just here with you. His hopeless smile seems to be contagious as you start to sport the same one as you sigh with relief. “You made it.”
“Yeah…” Phainon breathes out. Oddly, his smile gets wider, like he was happy to end up coming to your home.
“...Can we talk?” You ask hesitantly. As always, Phainon surprises you, as he willingly walks closer to you, as if to follow you wherever.
“Of course.” He replies smoothly. You give him a nod and slowly lead to towards your bedroom for a more private conversation.
You close your door after Phainon walks in. He seems to curiously look around your room, noticing the little trinkets and photos that have changed over the years. He hasn’t been here for a while.
“Can I sit?” Phainon asks, patting your bed. You nod and say yes, and you both sit on the edge. You didn’t know where to start- diving straight into the obvious thing seemed too heavy.
“Mydei told me you were busy…” You remark. “I thought you weren’t gonna come.”
“I know.” He admits sheepishly. You felt the honesty beneath his words as he tries to ease any negative feelings you might harbour towards him for his initial excuse. “I just thought that… I had crossed a line.”
“Crossed a line?” You repeat. Phainon pauses, then sighs endearingly. Your question was innocent, yet posed a different meaning for Phainon. For the first time in weeks, he feels the weight of what he’s kept inside.
“Remember what happened after the mixer?” Phainon asks. You nod, and he continues. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Done what?”
“You know what.” He says with a light chuckle and nudge to your arm to ease the tension and awkwardness. “I… I almost kissed you.”
“But I almost kissed you too.” You remark guilelessly. Your gaze was unwavering, and you can feel him register the resolve behind it. You weren’t going to drop this were you? Of course you weren’t. So Phainon exhales slowly, giving a small awkward smile as he lowers his guard a little.
“...And that’s the problem. You’re Mydei’s sister. You’re not just anyone to me (Y/n)- you’re important. I can’t risk ruining what I have with you and Mydei.” Phainon sighs, rubbing his forehead like this was making him sweat. With how he was behaving, you get the feeling that he likely felt guilty- like a bastard who shouldn’t be liking his best friend’s sister, making it equivalent to a sin. Phainon seems to know something you don’t. Phainon sputters a little as he’s stuck between going off on a nervous rant and being gentle. Then he finally brings himself to explain further. “I-I mean… what would you have done if we really leaned in? Do you even know how to kiss?”
“No…” You admit. “But you seem like you’d be good at it.”
“You really think so?” Phainon laughs softly, seeming curious at your remark. Oddly enough, his tone gets softer like a whisper as he presses you for another question. “Why do you say that?”
“You’re… you know…” You stammer, trying to latch onto something specific, but truthfully you could say anything. You take a good look at him and he’s still perfection incarnate. Phainon laughs softly again.
“I think you think way too highly of me.” He smiles, his tone slightly teasing like he found your answer amusing. You might even go as far as to say that he might’ve sounded a bit shy when he said that. Phainon’s hand lays on the bed, his pinky millimeters away from yours. He leans back a bit, as if to get a better look at you too. “How would you know if I’ve kissed anyone?”
You think again for a moment, except this time you didn’t have an answer. Phainon looks back at you patiently.
“I don’t know.” You admit quietly, but determination lingers in your eyes. Did you really know? No, of course not. No matter how perfect you thought he was, there was no way you could know if he had that kind of experience. So there was only one way to.
“But I want to know.”
Phainon’s breath catches in his throat, genuinely speechless for a moment at your response. He simply looks at you, the noises of the evening starting to disappear. His blue eyes seem strangely brighter than usual, like they were seeing every past version of yourself. And now here you were, your present self saying words that mirrored his own when he first met you, yearning to know more about each other. Just a girl standing in the hallway, waiting for someone to notice her, and a kind boy simply smiling back at her, who always has. He suddenly lets out a chuckle, small and breathless as he finally surrenders his noble front.
“Come here then.” He coaxes softly, his lashes seemingly fluttering in slow motion as his eyes open. You blink in surprise.
“What?”
“Come here.” Phainon repeats, his expression softening. His smile doesn’t falter, in fact- only getting wider and making the corners of his eyes crinkle in that boyish way you’ve always known. Somehow, you understood, and you start to surrender your own noble front as you move closer to him, unashamedly smiling just as bright as him.
Phainon’s eyes trail your own as your thigh touches his. His hand comes up carefully to cup your cheek. There was no more hesitation in either of your movements. No more almosts and no more waiting- only the split second pause where you both realize this was the closest you’ve ever been, breaths mingling and eyes hazy as if you both couldn’t believe this was happening. You lean in even more, just the same as you did that night, and Phainon does too, just like you always knew he would.
He leans down, and presses his lips to yours, letting his restraint crack just to taste what he’s been waiting so long for. You both close your eyes, savouring soft warmth of each other’s lips. Even the little smiles and chuckles, and now your hands softly laying on his chest were enjoyable.
You pull away for a brief moment, yours and Phainon’s lips leaving with a soft smooch sound. There was a flicker of disbelief in your eyes, with Phainon’s looking equally as stunned. But the easy smiles that come after make you realize how it came so effortlessly for Phainon- nothing but affection.
You both stare at each other, a little breathless and a little shy as if it was a way to come back down to Earth. But neither of you seem to want to let go. Phainon’s hand remains near your cheek, while yours remains loosely gripping onto the hem of his shirt.
“I’m glad you wanted to know.” Phainon says softly with an awkward but loving smile. He gets a laugh out of you too, and even now he finds himself craving the sound more. He’d like to make you laugh like that more in the future. Now if only… “Shit- your brother’s gonna kill me.”
You watch as Phainon looks away slightly, his face going pale except for a sheepish blush. The consequence dawns on you as well, but in this moment as you’re still high on dopamine, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel it.
“He’s gonna kill me too.” You shrug, trying to make him feel better. “And you say it as if you’re not one of his favourite people.”
“You’re his sister, he can’t be mad at you. Not for long at least.” Phainon says while sighing. Even though this guilt eats him up, he can’t help but smile. “Me though… I might need to pay in my next life.”
“But he’s never threatened to disown you.” You challenge. Phainon lets out a hearty laugh at your honesty, knowing his best friend could get quite creative with insults.
“Maybe not, but I feel like I’m about to find out.” Still, even if you both were about to be disowned by Mydei, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Phainon look this happy to be disowned.
“We should head down now.” Phainon says softly, as the laughter dies down. You nod, though neither of you really move, both still sitting on your bed, smiling like dopes. You both laugh again, until Phainon stands and offers you his hand to stand up as well.
You take it without hesitation, and he pulls you up gently. And he doesn’t let go- neither of you do actually.
His fingers fit between yours easily, like it was meant to be this way. You and Phainon begin to walk towards your bedroom door to exit, though he seems a little hesitant.
“(Y/n)- how exactly are we going to explain to Mydei about this…?” He asks nervously, looking mildly embarrassed. You shrug, still not really caring.
“He’s just gonna have to deal with it.” You say casually, reaching for the doorknob. “Also, maybe don’t mention my brother within five minutes after we kiss.”
A cheeky grin spreads on Phainon's face, finding your response utterly defiant yet endearing. He chuckles, shaking his head while smiling helplessly. A thousand teasing responses are circling within his head, though he opts to sprinkle a little sarcasm in there. “My bad. I’ll try to do better next time then.”
“Oh? There will be a next time?”
A guttural scream tears through your throat (again?). MYDEI?!
Your’s and Phainon’s jaws both go slack, speechless as you both remain frozen in the threshold of your doorway. There stood your brother, deadpan with his arms crossed… wearing an apron and oven mitts.
“Wh- MYDEI!!” You scream, mortified. You want to throw something at him, but the only thing beside you was a Phainon. “How long have you been standing there?!”
“How long have I been standing here? I think the better question is why you both aren’t downstairs.” Mydei’s tone reeks of sarcasm, very much not in the mood to take any bullshit from either of you.
You realize Mydei was right- the entire house smelled delicious with the smells of good food was wafting everywhere.
“There are steaks being grilled outside. I made honeycake...” Mydei lists, looking genuinely perplexed. Then his eyes look between you and Phainon, looking absolutely disgusted. “And yet here you both are… …kissing?”
You think you see Mydei shiver and gag slightly when he says the k-word, which should have been funny but right now you feel too defensive to think about that.
“MYDEI!!”
Mydei barely has time to react when you suddenly decide to launch yourself at him.
“Hey-” Mydei sputters, grunting as you smack his arm, and then his shoulder. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“What is wrong with you?!” You snap back and hit your brother more though it doesn’t really affect him since he was holding you back.
Meanwhile, Phainon watches the petty catfight of a sibling argument with a fond smile on his face. With Mydei looking disgusted while wearing an apron and oven mitts, fighting against you who was aggressively clawing at your brother like a cat, Phainon internally declares that he has never seen a more stupid thing in his life. Goodness, was this the glory that Kremnoans were known for? Somehow, it endeared him even more.
“I don’t get why you’d be busy kissing when there’s good food downstairs.”
“STOP SAYING IT!”
“I made you a honeycake… for this?”
“I know you made honeycake! You mentioned it fifty times in the past two minutes! Is this seriously your priority?!”
“My priority?- Look at yours!”
Was there really any point to this argument anymore?
After a few more lovely seconds of arguing, Phainon sighs fondly and clasps his hands, one of yours and the other on your brother’s shoulder. You and Mydei oddly stop bickering, both looking at Phainon’s expression which could only be described as fond disbelief. This entire scene was ridiculous, but somehow also his favourite.
“Alright alright, let’s just go down now. Hm?” Phainon smiles, hoping to ease the playful bullying. Mydei continues to glare at him. Right message, wrong messenger…
“...I’m gonna kill that guy.” Mydei seethes, looking straight at Phainon yet addressing you.
You want to start fighting your brother again, but to your surprise, Phainon laughs harder before you could react. Then, with the same gentle amusement from years ago, he reaches over and lightly pats Mydei’s shoulder.
“I’ll hold you to it.”
The words feel familiar, because they are. You look at him now- his eyes crinkling with mirth as he said nearly the same thing months ago. For some reason, as you watch Mydei glare at Phainon- the bastard you just kissed had the audacity to smile at him, the silent look they gave each other somehow explained something you were secretly worrying about this whole time but never had to.
Mydei probably knew, you think. You’re not sure how long he’s been suspecting it, though when you look back at your own antics it was probably obvious anyway. You cringe internally, not wanting to think about your brother knowing about this thing with Phainon for who knows how long.
“Now- can we go eat before someone gets murdered?” Phainon asks tenderly, interrupting the chaos. It’s ironic how Phainon seems the happiest here, while you and Mydei both grumble and surrender. He’s still smiling, still patient with you and your brother. Phainon laughs again, and you all head downstairs together- though this time, Phainon doesn’t let go of your hand.
And naturally, you don’t think to let go either.
Your porch lights seem to glow with the same warmth that you’ve felt over the years. Your mother lovingly scolds Mydei for disappearing, and Mydei only grumbles saying nobody appreciates his cooking.
You feel thirteen again as your memories overlap with reality. The smell of home cooking, summer air drifting through the windows, your brother being broody… And Phainon- a boy who started out a mystery, a teenage boy who simply sat at your table smiling like he already belonged there. You come to realize something: Phainon had never been a guest at this house.
All those years, while you were busy mourning things you thought weren’t meant for you, something else was growing beside you the whole time. He became so much more to you, simply because he wanted to be, and because you finally let him.
And for Phainon? Of course it was easy for him. He had always been reaching for home in the first place.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
Notes:
For reference, this fic is called Seventeen :)
I rewrote a couple of parts so I will reblog some of the deleted parts and extra notes here later so they don't go to waste in case anyone wants to see the alternative direction
Anyway thank you for reading! I hope you all enjoyed <3
Edit: THERE ARE SO MANY ERRORS I'M CRINGING SO BAD
Though it wasn’t like he shamed you for it, or told you to stop for that matter—it still felt like a tragedy trying to feel good under his touch.
There was just something so… hard about it.
Not only were your hips giving up on you the moment you’re on top; you couldn’t even bear to have a good orgasm because of your inability to ride him.
Therefore, when you decided to try for a second (or third) time, you didn’t ask him for anything, and rather did it your own way again.
He of course let you do what you wanted (before he could snap) because he knew you were going to give up eventually. Which was why, for some reason, you felt like there was something a little different compared to the first time—a rather shift in the air.
Your hands slapped on his shoulders, the tip of your fingertips dug into his skin as you desperately moved against him. Warm skin collides with one another, making Sylus chuckle as he continues observing your every tiny move.
When he notices you staggering more than before, his hands—that were initially ghosting over your hips—carefully grab onto your skin and gently revert you back into a comfortable rhythm.
“Don’t focus on bouncing too much if you're getting tired, sweetie.” His voice was soft. Way too sweet, it only made you grit your teeth and shake your head.
“I don’t need your h-help.”
“Really now?”
You nod again, but those hands that were once on your hips started travelling further along your body, the touch was so warm yet so chilly—it made you shiver.
A gasp gets caught in your throat and you stare at Sylus, mouth agape as your hips that were once moving at a relaxed pace, suddenly lose their control again.
But Sylus doesn’t interrupt and rather watches as he waits for the right moment to catch you again. The moment where he notices you breathing a little heavier, slowing down—
“Hngh- y-you-"
“Lean forward.”
Your body starts moving on its own and suddenly, there's a light pressure on your back that is guiding you to the right position. The moment you were leaning above Sylus; the tension in your body left and you felt more...relaxed. But you didn't properly move yet.
"Don't tell me you feel better now, huh?"
You moan in response and he only laughs.
"Where was all that confidence when you started it?" The mock in his voice made your response delayed for a second. You shake your head and plant a kiss on his shoulder, causing Sylus to spit out a sound of something with a mix of a chuckle and groan and kiss you back.
The moment his lips left yours, the glint in his eye was so evident, like he was hungry—thirsting for more. His hand, which you were totally unaware about, eventually makes contact with your ass and gives it a tiny smack! which only caused you to jump.
"Don't give up on me now," He whispered. "You were doing good just a few minutes ago."
The words of encouragement flooded your mind and it was now all you could think about; all you could listen to—it was like he was reading too much into your mind, he knew exactly what you wanted despite not saying it out loud, or, showing it.
The moment you started moving again—properly—grinding him like your life depended on it, Sylus started reacting. Louder than before. You could hear the tiny gasps and breathless chuckles leave his lips, not only did you think it was only making him feel good, but you, too, were also feeling...better.
"Thaats it," Sylus huffed, tangling his fingers through your hair, lightly holding onto you as you started regaining your composure again. "Keep going, sweetie."
from millie: need him bad rn bc i'm going through it
warnings: afab reader, pms symptoms (general mood swings, lethargy and restlessness), modern au (implied law student! phainon hell yeah)
There was a heavy and invisible weight resting on your head, an ache you couldn't remove even as you drank water or showered under a scalding hot or freezing cold water. A frown paints your face as you toss and turn on your bed, sheets rustling as you scratch your shoulder from annoyance.
You want to stand and walk off this restless energy but your body feels otherwise. It felt like you can bounce off the walls from the subtle thrum of energy under your veins but the weight on your head prevented you from doing so.
Your phone rings and you feel a hot surge of annoyance shoot up your already aching head. You have half a mind to throw it on the wall but you opt to pick up, not bothering to check the contact.
"What?" You answered with a clipped tone and a sigh.
"Oh? Did I catch you in a bad time, my love?"
Your boyfriend's teasing yet wary tone meets your ears, and the grumpiness immediately swings right into near waterworks.
"Phainon…" Your voice trembles, your frustration now reaching its peak. "I'm sorry for yelling I—"
"It's okay, my love." He assures immediately. "It seems I was right to call you right now. I was supposed to tell you…" A car door closing sounds on the phone. "That I was done with my classes and I'm on my way to you."
You jolt upright, ignoring the immediate wave of dizziness. "But Phainon… it's late already and I'm sure you're tired from all your classes today—"
"And I want to see you, love." He cuts in. "I know your cycle is getting close so you might have some… cravings for a hot bowl of soup from our usual spot?" Phainon asks in a knowing tone as you hear the rustling of a seatbelt.
"…that sounds perfect, Phainon." You replied. You felt as if a small thorn was taken out of your head, alleviating your symptoms. "I'll see you later then?"
"Mhm. See you later, (name)."
…
You wake from your small nap with the feeling of lips smooching your cheeks and the subtle scent of peppers and oranges lingering near your nose. You stir with an annoyed whine, opening your eyes to finally be met by the sight of your boyfriend and his boyish grin.
Phainon's hair was messy, strands of white falling on his forehead and standing from being ran through. A sign that maybe he had a stressful day of recits, lectures, and other commitments. His usual blazer was already shrugged off, leaving him in nothing but a white button down.
"Hello, my angel." He greets. "How did you sleep, hm?"
"Could sleep better." You replied. "It's just so…" You tiredly gesture to nothing, "hot and I don't know. Everything is so…"
He hums as he pressed another kiss to your cheek. "Mhm. Don't worry, I understand (name). Did your nap at least alleviate what you were feeling?" He asks while you felt his warm hands carefully massaging your lower stomach, applying light pressure.
The pressure had you sighing in relief and lifting your sour mood. "Not really. Got rid of my restlessness though." You groan as he continues massaging the tender area.
"Then that's still okay, my love."
…
Dinner was like the many established routines you have already set with Phainon. Familiar, comforting, and entirely just yours.
You both lie together in your bed, the duvet covering your lower bodies as the air-conditioning hums quietly in the background. The warmth of his hands on your lower stomach continues to soothe the cramps contracting within your body.
Phainon spent the entire night doting on your needs, helping you bathe and feeding you soup. Even helping you with your skincare routine for the night.
"Feel better? Need anything else, sweetie?" Phainon asks lowly, lips hovering below your lower lashes.
"Mm. I'm more than okay now." A sweet smile on your face. Phainon huffs, finally kissing your cheek. "I'm glad I could help you."
He adjusts you both, using his arm as a pillow for your head and letting the duvet rest enough to keep the cold out and retain the warmth on your lower body. Then, Phainon presses one last kiss on your forehead to let you go to your dreams.
synopsis: during a fruitless meeting, zayne gets a harrowing message: there’s been an emergency.
in which you wind up at your least favorite place, and zayne is the only one who can calm you down.
pairing: zayne x fem reader
tags: angst, comfort, fluff, reader is injured in a car accident, reader has a fear of hospitals, mentions of blood and wounds, anxiety all around, reader is strongly attached to zayne, reader is somewhat dependent on zayne, reader is clingy as a result, reader cries, lots of skinship, zayne in scrubs, zayne reassures reader, he encourages her to prioritize herself, yvonne cameo, greyson mentions, i am not a doctor nor have i ever been to the emergency room
word count: 3k
Giving his colleague time to respond, Zayne adjusts the placement of his watch on his wrist. Illuminated by the morning sun, the silver band catches on the lens of his glasses, reflecting a rhombus onto his black slacks.
It’s the most stimulating thing about this meeting.
“I…” A swine-like wheeze reveals the hospital executive’s desperation as he turns to other stakeholders for support. “I don't love the idea of it either, Dr. Li. But what other choice is there? Akso’s profits are falling for the first time in years. Increasing the cost of care is the only way to keep up with the evolving economy!”
“And how do you suppose the hospital will operate when its clientele are priced out of our services?”
Just as the executive’s flush turns from pink to red, the conference room door opens, saving him from what was sure to be a lackluster rebuttal.
Dressed in her white scrubs and mask, Yvonne rushes in, frazzled and panting. Not one for impoliteness, she coughs out a hasty greeting before meeting Zayne’s gaze and making an urgent gesture.
“Excuse me,” he says, mildly disappointed to cut the debate short. He was just warming up.
Almost immediately, the tension in the air dissipates. A quiet sigh of relief slips from the executive’s mouth as the biggest adversary he’s faced since college plagiarism checkers steps into the hall.
Several paces from the closed oak door, Yvonne turns to face Zayne, wringing her hands out with nerves. “I’m sorry to pull you away, but there’s been an emergency,” she whispers.
Zayne squints slightly, dark eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Dr. Greyson should be available right now. Is there a reason wh—”
“Your partner, Dr. Li.” It’s a rare interruption. “She was just in an accident.”
The stairs are a blur as he rushes down them two at a time. Still, it isn't fast enough.
“What’s happened?” Zayne demands. “Tell me everything.”
Yvonne follows closely behind him, her clogs hitting the floor on the offbeats of his heavy steps. “It was a collision with another vehicle. The other driver had only minor injuries, but hers are more serious.”
“How serious?” Careening around the corner, he nearly plows through a gaggle of interns heading toward the fifth floor.
Typically, the sight of calm, collected Dr. Li is enough to make the younger staff gape in wonder. But frantic, distressed Dr. Li? That’s a new concept entirely.
However, as Zayne flattens his body to pass by them without hindrance, their gawking goes even less noticed than usual.
“They can’t tell the extent of the damage,” Yvonne explains. “We tried to evaluate upon arrival, but she won’t accept treatment until she sees you. When I left the ER, she was thrashing around and calling out for you.”
“She’s afraid of hospitals,” he responds robotically.
Just a few steps farther.
The searing burn in his legs reminds him of the hike he’d gone on with you just a few days earlier. The way he tripped on a well-camouflaged branch, and you caught him with an ill-concealed snicker. The way you paused under a maple tree to catch your breath after, oblivious to the bustling beehive ten feet above you.
“EEEEEEgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoff!”
As you permanently damage the hearing of the bee on your tank top, a retaliatory snicker escapes Zayne’s lips.
“You think this is funny?” you screech, holding deathly still lest you provoke the beast on your shoulder. “I’ve never been stung before! What if I'm allergic?”
“All right, all right.” He cautiously waves the insect off with his hand, and it flies onto a nearby flower. “See? You’re safe now.”
While you catch your breath, a dramatic hand plastered to your chest, he curls an arm around your lower back and guides you away from danger.
At the base of the mountain, you’d stopped at an ice cream truck, gifting each other compensatory snow cones for your troubles.
That memory of you, smiling in the sun with sweat-slicked skin and blue-stained lips, won’t leave his mind. What kind of state were you in right now? Would you be able to go out like that, to laugh like that again? Would you want to?
A chill creeps through the sterile air as he finally reaches the bottom of the stairwell. With an anxious breath, he bursts through the ER doors, eyes scanning with urgency unknown.
Zayne is used to seeing people bloodied and bruised—too used to it, if you and his parents had anything to say about it. After years of stitching the broken back up again, he's grown desensitized to the most off-putting aspects of the human body. When he sees blood, he can’t afford to panic. He's got a job to do.
Now, at perhaps the one moment he can afford it the least, there's a delay in his actions. It’s immoral for him to think this way, and he'd never say it out loud, but it's not a patient who's hurt. It's not just anyone. It’s you.
You, who demoted lonely from a frequent feeling to a foreign one. You, who showed him, for the first time, how to love and be loved.
So when he sees you frenzied and bleeding, swatting at several nurses’ hands like a cornered stray making its last stand, he freezes. And in that moment, your eyes meet.
Your tired, broken whimper is what finally springs him into action.
He rushes to your side, forcing the metallic tang of your blood a step down from salience. The nurses clear a path for him immediately.
He tries to examine the extent of your injuries, but your attempts to cling to him make it difficult. More than once, he has to beg you to stay still.
“It hurts,” you mewl, weakly clutching his left arm.
“I know. I know. But I need you to stay still for me, all right? Just while we figure out what's wrong.” So much blood. “Here, give me your hand.”
Your palms meet with identical iron grips. You squeeze him in pain and fear, he squeezes you in simmering panic—as well as to keep you still.
Needing to be heard but not wanting to startle you, he calls out his observations with the steadiest voice he can. “I see abrasions on the right temple and significant bruising on the upper body. The arm and shoulder lacerations will likely need staples.”
Slowly, he lifts your lolling head to examine your unfocused eyes. “What’s your full name, and where are we right now?”
“We’re in…” Through slurred words, you blink slowly, pausing to take in your surroundings. It’s like you’re seeing it all for the first time—the somber staff, the sobbing families, the lifeless bodies on the beds—and your face is the picture of panic. “Why…why are we here? I don’t want to be here. I want to go home.”
Zayne grimaces, shushing you and smoothing your hair down. “She may have a concussion as well.”
Your swollen face contorts in panic. “I have what?”
“Shh. I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable,” he whispers. Gathering you in his arms, he rises to full height and nods swiftly to the surrounding staff. “I’m going to set her down slowly. Ensure the gurney is stable.”
Your sense of smell is the first to return to you.
At home, you keep diffusers scattered throughout the space; it brightens your day when your favorite fragrance fills the room.
Here—wherever here is—a piercing sterile scent burns the inside of your nose.
Bleach and artificial lemon.
Something is wrong.
In your ears, the high-pitched hum of equipment.
On your tongue, the aftertaste of iron.
When you finally manage to crack your eyes open, blinding light forces them shut. You try again a moment later, gradually processing the thin blue gown hanging loosely on your sore frame.
It all comes flooding back.
A sickening crash. A crushing impact. Flashing lights, loud voices.
Screeching sirens. Fragments of motion sickness. An abrupt stop.
A big, bright Akso sign. Shining like a beacon.
Not here. Not here. Not all alone.
Your own voice, crying out for Zayne.
Zayne.
Where is he now?
The hospital bed groans under your thrashing body. It hurts, but it won’t be for long. He’s here somewhere, and if you can just get to him, he’ll make it better like he always does.
Zayne. Zayne. Zayne.
As soon as you manage to plant one foot on the ground, the door to your room swings open.
When Zayne steps through, face weary and teal scrubs more ruffled than he’d usually allow, your body melts in relief.
His dim hazel eyes lighten a bit when he sees that you're awake. Then, they zero in on your injured form hanging precariously off the bed.
“Going somewhere?” His voice is flat, unamused. He crosses the room in four long strides, gently lifts your errant leg, and repositions you properly on the mattress. All the while, he expertly dodges your weakened attempts to pull him down with you. “You need to stay here. Movement can exacerbate your injuries.”
“Okay.” You swallow thickly, eyes brimming with unshed tears. This time, when you reach for him, he wraps you into his warm embrace.
Zayne shifts to hold you as best he can, avoiding the wounds and gauze on your head, arms, and shoulders. In the silence, your breaths and heartbeats slowly start to sync.
Clutching his shirt in your fingers, you speak softly into his skin. “You weren’t here when I woke up.” It’s not an accusation, but more a lamentation.
“I’d planned to stay with you, but a patient needed an emergency operation not long after they brought you here. I was in surgery for the last five hours. I came as soon as I could.”
You start to nod into his shoulder, but he stills your head to limit your movement. Instead, you give him something between a hum and a grunt.
“What happened?” he asks after a moment.
“I tried to take the interstate on my way to work. The one we used to practice since I was so scared of all the traffic here. But when I went to merge…I barely even saw the other car. I just remember the crash, and the ambulance, and I knew they were taking me here—I saw the sign—and I panicked. I haven’t been in the hospital since I was a kid. Every time they’d let me out of bed to walk around, there was a new family crying in the halls. I didn’t ever want to go back.” Your voice is hoarse by the time you finish—barely more than a whisper. Pulling back slightly, Zayne cracks open the bottle of water on the bedside table and holds it to your lips. You drink gratefully, wrapping both hands around his wrist.
Once you’re done, he leans in close and presses a kiss to your hair. “You’re very brave for trying that by yourself. But should something like this happen again, you can't delay getting treatment because of me. Let them help you.”
“You know I don’t—I’ve never felt comfortable in places like this. There’s so much pain and grief here. I don’t know how you handle it.” Your throat constricts, and his hold on you tightens as wetness seeps into his shirt. “I was so scared.”
“I know. But I was, too. Not knowing what I was walking into, what kind of state you’d be in when I arrived…I was terrified.”
You bite your lip, discovering an undetected cut at the top. “I didn’t mean to.”
“Of course you didn’t. Just promise me that you'll always make your wellbeing a priority, whether or not I’m within reach.”
“I want to. But it’s hard,” you mumble. “You’re really responsible, you know. And kind. And nice. And smart. And—”
You’re ready to prattle on, but you cut the praise short once you spot his pink-tinged cheeks. “You’re a lot of good things,” you pivot. “Most of all, you make me feel safe. But…”
“But?” he echoes, threading a hand through your hair.
“I get anxious without you,” you admit. “When I’m with you, I feel like everything will be alright, but when I'm not…it feels like the world is ending sometimes. And I'm there in the thick of it, lost and alone.” Your self-deprecating laugh worsens the ache in your chest. “I just feel like I depend on you a lot. Maybe too much.”
He’s quiet for a few beats, constructing his response with the utmost care. “You should be able to depend on me,” he begins softly. “That's my job as your partner. But you lived many years before we met. Your agency isn’t reliant upon my physical presence, though you may feel it is.” He clears his throat. “I’d never be opposed to spending every second by your side. But when I can’t, I hope you’ll still feel me right there with you. Cheering you on, supporting you. That’s when I feel most at home.
“I could never stray too far from the one I love. So, although I may not always be present, I’m in your heart, as well as your thoughts. Even if you have to ask yourself, ‘What would Zayne do?’ to find your way forward, I trust you can come to the right answer. He would do whatever he could to keep you safe and healthy.”
If you weren’t certain he’d scold you for moving, you’d duck your head under your blanket in embarrassment. Instead, you simply whine and avert your gaze, heart fluttering at his words.
“You understand, don’t you?” he coaxes. “Can you take care of yourself for me?”
You purse your lips, still clutching his scrubs tight despite his ask. When you answer, your voice wavers in uncertainty.
“I’ll try.”
For the first part of the afternoon, Zayne keeps you company. He reads to you from Yvonne’s romance novel, supervises while you switch between games on his phone, and opens the blinds so you can people-watch from the comfort of the seventh-floor window.
When boredom strikes, you put on a game show on the midsize TV, guessing most answers wrong while he gets them right.
When a staff member brings you a snack, you urge Zayne onto the too-small bed with you and share a tapioca pudding cup, tactfully ignoring the healthy serving of carrots on the side.
Soothed by his warmth and steady heartbeat, you feel your eyelids grow heavy after a while. In his arms, the room’s oppressive white and whirring machinery become no more than a quelled threat. But when the shrill beep of his pager cuts through the quiet, your body goes rigid with fear forgotten.
“There’s another operation soon. I'll have to leave in a moment.”
“A-Are you sure?” Your eyes widen in dismay. “Can’t Greyson—”
Recalling your promise from earlier, you reel yourself in and take your bottom lip between your teeth. As you lower your head and prepare to apologize, Zayne cups your warming face in his hands. You nuzzle into him greedily.
“Greyson has already done all he can. His selflessness this afternoon is the reason I’ve been able to stay with you for this long. I suppose I owe him a coffee for that.” He curves his lips upward slightly, hoping your frowning ones will follow. “On the bright side, it’s the last surgery of the day. I'll be back here to see you once it’s over.”
“Okay,” you whisper. You know he hears your voice break. Even if he doesn’t, you can't blink fast enough to stop the first few drops from falling.
Regret quickly takes the place of his smile. His face contorts into a grimace as he racks his brain for a solution, eventually nodding to himself resolutely. “Wait just a moment, all right? I’ll be right back. There’s something I need to do.” He kisses your hair once more, then waits for you to nod your agreement. Then, he walks briskly out of the room.
The temperature seems to plummet.
You curl in on yourself as best you can, the last round of painkillers wearing off fast. But Zayne brings you a warmth that’s unreachable alone.
You try to wait for him, you really do. But maybe it’s a miracle that sleep tugs at you in a place like this.
When you pry your heavy eyelids open, the sun is just beginning to set. You’re certain you were out cold whenever Zayne returned to your room earlier, and you can’t help but groan. From the looks of it, he’s still in surgery—no telling when he’ll be back to help you spend the night in your least favorite place.
Desperate to pass the time, you start to reach for the TV remote, only to nudge something soft tucked into your side. Upon further inspection, you recognize the hospital’s gift shop logo stitched onto a black paw pad.
Beside you is a grinning polar bear plush, a pair of lensless spectacles sitting on its short snout. On its blue bib sits a get well soon message; between its outstretched paws is a brief note. That paradoxically legible handwriting…you’d know it anywhere.
“You go that way. I’ll go search at the Marmoreal Market!”
“Not again…”
“Bless our hearts…”
Quiet murmurs spread through the classroom as the students eavesdropped on the school faculty staff’s frantic voices outside. Some cast uneasy glances at the desk that had been occupied only ten minutes ago.
“Did he escape again?”
“Wow, he’s really good at being sneaky…”
“As expected from the son of Lord Phainon!”
“Shh! We’ll get in trouble if we keep praising him!”
“Oh boy…”
Silver-white locks fluttered by a gentle breeze.
(C/n) grinned when he saw some of the teachers running out of the school building from the side before turning and leaving the school grounds.
The boy huffed in irritation. “Seriously, they’re always watching me sooo closely just ‘cause of dad. ‘Don’t do that!’ ‘Lord Phainon will be displeased!’ ‘Please be careful!’” He mocked them to himself while he weaved his way through the bustling streets of Okhema, making sure to avoid the teachers searching for him.
“Wanna go home and train swordsmanshippp,” he drawled, “I’m going to be a warrior anyway. Why do I have to study at school?” He pouted and kicked a pebble in frustration, before pausing when he caught a glimpse of a strawberry-blonde head.
Immediately recognizing the figure, he gasped and ducked behind a fruit stall. Why is HE here?! Isn’t he supposed to be at the Marmoreal Palace??
After waiting for about a minute, (c/n) carefully peeked over the edge of the stall. Relief washed over him when he found the spot he was in empty.
“What are you doing?”
(C/n) let out a startle yelp and he whipped his head, his gaze meeting the man’s amber ones. “Uncle Mydeimos!”
Mydei folded his arms as he stared down at (c/n)’s sheepish expression. “Shouldn’t you be at school? Did you guys get dismissed early?”
“I—“ (c/n) blinked, and he let out a nervous laugh. “Oh you know… school’s been making me feel sooo tired lately, so, I’m skipping!”
“Skipping.” Mydei repeated, his brows furrowing. He knew (Name) wasn’t the type to let her son skip school simply because he was tired. Unfortunately for the boy, his uncle was far from convinced.
(C/n)’s eyes quickly darted around at his surroundings, searching for an escape route—which didn't go unnoticed by someone like Mydei.
“(C/n)—“
“(C/N)!!!!!”
The boy’s face paled at the familiar voice of his mother. He turned his head, and his eyes widened in horror when he saw (Name) standing a few feet away, panting heavily with an expression that tells (c/n) he won’t be able to get away with his smooth words later. guess who he got that from hahaha ok sorry
Without hesitation, (c/n) broke into a sprint, ignoring both his uncle’s and mother’s call out to him.
He stopped at a corner, then hurried to a staircase that led up to the roof of a nearby building. He recalled the time when he once watched his father sparring with Uncle Mydei right here.
He squeaked when he nearly lost his balance and dropped on all fours to quickly regain it.
Swallowing his saliva, he slightly leaned over looked down at the ground below and shivered, realizing he was much higher up than he had thought. His father had strictly forbidden him from climbing onto any roofs in general. Now he sort-of understood why.
“Phew! That was superrr close!” (C/n) wiped a sweat from his forehead, dropping onto his bottom for a temporary rest. “Heh, does this count as training?” He asked himself.
“(C/n)!”
He snapped out of his trance and glanced down, seeing his mother below with a mix of anger and worry on her face with Mydei standing beside her.
“You are in big trouble, young man! Uncle Mydei is going to come up and get you. You better stay put!”
“…”
He blinked, then stood up.
Looked at his mother dead in the eye from above.
Then stuck his tongue out and let out a raspberry.
“You little—!”
He turned and began walking across the roof with a cheeky grin, but his steps wavered the moment he took his sixth step as he slowly started to lose his balance. His heart sank instantly, his mother’s horrified and uncle’s voices ringing out as they called to him. Just as he was about to cry when he felt his body tilting off the edge, he felt something—or rather someone, grasp onto the back of his shirt and lift him off his feet.
“Alright, little man, that’s enough of a cat and mouse game for you.”
(C/n)’s breath hitched when he saw his father staring at him with mild amusement.
“Papa!” The boy squealed and he squirmed in his grip, “no! I can’t go home yet!”
“Oh?” Phainon cocked his head to the side with a teasing smile. “Then do you want me to put you down?” He playfully extended his arm outward, letting his son dangle in the air above nearly more than twenty feet off the ground instead of the rooftop. Both (C/n) and (Name) let out a scream, while Mydei watched, unamused.
“Phainon!” (Name) yelled, “you better stop!”
“Well? What will it be?”
“Okay!” (C/n) cried, “I’ll go home and face my punishment like a good son!”
“There we go! See, wasn't so hard!” Phainon chuckled as he brought the boy close to his chest, who in response clung onto him for dear life.
“Oh…” (Name) held her head, “Kephale, my head—“ she stumbled forward, to which Mydei had to catch her by the arm before she fell face first.
a/n: lowk mid, MIGHT delete this later or maybe edit idk cs this is really unedited
-This is where Phainon shines. Mornings on Amphoreus are cold—that thin, pale light of a world touched by strife—but the bed is warm. He's warm. And neither of you have anywhere to be.
-He stirs first. He always does. Old habits from years of vigilance. But he doesn't get up. Instead, he turns toward you, propping himself on one elbow, just... watching. The way the morning light catches your skin. The way your lashes rest against your cheeks. The way your breathing is still slow and even.
-He brushes a strand of hair from your face. Feather-light. Barely there. But it wakes you anyway—or maybe it's the weight of his gaze, the quiet intensity of being looked at like that.
"Morning." His voice is rough with sleep. He smiles when you blink up at him. "Didn't mean to wake you."
"You were staring."
"I was admiring. There's a difference."
-He kisses your forehead. Then your nose. Then your lips—just a soft, dry press that lingers. -Nothing is rushed. That's the rule of lazy mornings. The sun can climb the sky at its own pace. So can you.
-His hands wander. Not grabbing. Not demanding. Just... exploring. Palms sliding over your shoulders, your ribs, the curve of your hip. Like he's memorizing you all over again. Like it's the first time and the thousandth time simultaneously.
"You're so warm." He says it against your collarbone, lips brushing skin. "I dreamed about you."
"What kind of dream?"
-He huffs a quiet laugh. "A good one. But this is better."
-His thigh slips between yours. Not insistently. Just there. An invitation. Your hips rock against it on instinct, still hazy with sleep, and he hums approval against your throat. "There you go. Take your time."
-When he finally slides inside you, it's with the kind of slow, deliberate care that makes your toes curl. Side-lying, your back against his chest, his arm wrapped around your waist. The angle is shallow, lazy, perfect.
-His hips move in a slow, rolling rhythm. No urgency. No goal. Just the feeling of being connected, being close, being together in the quiet of the morning.
-His mouth is at your ear. Whispering things. Sweet things. "Love you. Love this. Love waking up with you." He's more unguarded in the morning. The walls aren't up yet. The weight of the world hasn't settled back onto his shoulders.
-His hand drifts down your stomach. Lower. Fingers finding your clit with practiced ease, drawing slow circles that match the rhythm of his hips. "Let go. I've got you. Just let go."
-When you come, it's a slow, rolling wave. Not sharp or sudden. A long, lazy crest that leaves you boneless and trembling in his arms. He follows you over the edge a moment later, groaning your name against your shoulder, his grip on your waist tightening briefly before relaxing.
-He doesn't pull out right away. He stays inside you, softening, both of you catching your breath. His nose nuzzles against your hair. His hand rubs slow circles on your stomach.
"We should get up." He says it without conviction.
"We should." You don't move either.
-A long pause. He laughs quietly—a low, warm sound that vibrates through his chest against your back. "Five more minutes."
-Five minutes turns into ten. Then twenty. Eventually he does get up—there's training to do, responsibilities to attend to, a world that needs saving—but not before he kisses you one last time. Not before he tucks the blankets back around your shoulders and murmurs, "Sleep a little longer. I'll bring you breakfast."
2: Cowgirl
-He loves you on top. Not because he wants to surrender control—though he does, sometimes, in ways that surprise him—but because the view is spectacular.
-He lies back against the pillows, hands resting on your thighs, thumbs stroking lazy patterns. His hair is spread out against the pillow. His eyes are soft and warm. Full of something that looks a lot like awe.
"Look at you." He says it like a prayer. "Gods, you're beautiful. Come here." He reaches up, one hand cupping the back of your neck, pulling you down for a kiss even as you're moving above him.
-He lets you set the pace. He's patient. He's generous. He'll let you use him however you need, take what you need, chase your pleasure on his body. "That's it. Take it. It's yours."
-But when he sees you getting tired—your rhythm faltering, your thighs shaking—he takes over. Hands gripping your hips, feet planted on the mattress, thrusting up into you with a strength that makes you gasp. He can go for ages like this. He'll get you there first, always. Then he'll let himself follow.
3: Face-sitting
-For Phainon, this is an act of worship. Flat out.
-He's the one who initiates it. Pulling you up his body. Settling you over his face. His hands spread flat on your thighs, reverent and steady. "Please. Let me. I want to taste you." His voice is already wrecked, and he hasn't even started.
-He takes his time. Slow, broad licks. Gentle suction. He's not trying to make you come quickly. He's savoring you. Learning you. He wants to know exactly what makes you gasp, exactly what makes you pull his hair, exactly what makes your thighs tremble around his ears.
-He doesn't stop after one. He works you through the first orgasm and starts building the second before you've even caught your breath. "One more. Please. Give me one more. I need to feel you come again."
Chronically Crushing @wasjustacrush - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
