. . . synopsis: cooking a romantic morning meal with boyfriend!mydei but the cooking process is anything BUT romantic.
. . . wc: 1.2k
. . . notes: might be ooc, established relationship, mydei has the patience of a saint (i think), reader is slightly impatient when it comes to cooking, they (kinda) bicker like an old married couple, fluff !!
“Where’d you leave the onion powder?” Mydei asks while chopping up some bell peppers, centering his focus on twisting the placental wall out, setting the seeds aside on a piece of paper. “You said you bought some from the supermarket not so long ago.”
“…It’s somewhere alright, I tossed it somewhere in the pantry because I was too lazy to organize it and now I can’t find it.” You shrug, your voice echoing from inside the pantry, your neck hurting from craning it for too long.
You stare at the intimidating variety of condiments at the top shelf and organized in a way only Mydei can understand. Probably. “I’ll…” You gulp, picking up random condiments that don’t even have labels on them. How does he even—
You sigh deeply, already starting to regret ever pitching this ‘cute’ idea to him in the first place. “Just give me a moment!!” You glance down at one of the condiments you picked— a mysterious red powder that made your nose crinkle upon sniffing its fumes accidentally. This one is definitely not onion powder.
“A very long moment…”
It was no secret your boyfriend was the better chef from the two of you, he held a cooking prowess you lacked and you were completely fine with it. Especially when that same cooking prowess is used to make sure you don’t eat the same “pathetic” sandwich every morning and evening.
You can hold your own in the kitchen as well, though you rarely ever step foot in the kitchen for longer than an hour. There was hardly a need when you often grabbed two slices of bread, slapped them together with ham and cheese in-between and left the house to go on with your day.
And even if you do magically have the time to cook, going through agonizing hours of cutting, preheating the stove, making sure you measured everything properly— all on an empty stomach??
Yeah no. It was a fate you never want to go through… so you might as well let your boyfriend handle it!
And besides, watching Mydei cook was a treat in itself. The way he carried himself around the kitchen with silent confidence, the way his brows furrow in deep concentration when following recipes online, only for him to ditch the methodical way and resort to winging the measurements instead?
It was nothing short of mesmerizing.
The same can’t be said about your shared predicament though.
“Did you end up finding the onion powder?”
“No?” You say before coughing, accidently sniffing another mysterious condiment that made your eyes water a bit. It’s garlic powder... probably.
It didn't matter what the condiment was, all you knew was how it made you regret stepping foot in the pantry in the first place.
“How the hell can you find your way around this…” You pause, trying to find the appropriate word that best describes the state of your shared pantry. Tapping the unlabeled condiment bottle out of mere spite. “Labyrinth?”
Mydei lets out a weary sigh, setting the knife down on the counter before walking towards the pantry, already bracing himself for whatever problem he’ll end up solving himself.
“First of all, you ripped off all the labels from the bottles, making it almost impossible to distinguish each mysterious condiment from each other. And second of all, you didn’t even bother to—”
You pause the series of complaints the moment you feel his looming presence from behind, causing your eyes to widen a bit.
Oh.
Probably shouldn’t have said that.
He crosses his arms in front of his chest, staring at you with his typical resting bitch face. Utterly stoic and mildly bothered. “Hm? And what else?” He asks, raising a sharp brow at your comically wide eyes. “Go on,” He tilts his head, urging you to keep blabbering on for his own amusement. “I’m curious as to what you have to say.”
“What?” You feign ignorance, looking at your boyfriend with a look that screamed of remorse. Teeny bit of it. “Oh nothing… I was uttering nonsense in the first place!” You try to save face, only for Mydei to shake his head, uncross his arms and take initiative.
Not without humbling you.
He scans the pantry with a concentration that leaves you a bit stunned. “It’s not a labyrinth if I’m able to navigate it perfectly fine.” He states plainly, acting like your perfectly reasonable complaints were nothing but a skill issue. “I’d say it’s fairly easy to navigate if you take the time to think with your brain instead of your stomach.”
“And what is that supposed to mean—”
Mydei ignores whatever weak retort leaves your lips, his gaze zeroing in on the very item that was the reason behind your minor spat in the first place. I don’t know how they managed to miss this.
He grabs the onion powder with the silent victory of a man who knows he won his case fair and square, making a show of popping the lid open, tilting the bottle in your direction. “This is what I mean.”
As soon as his eyes land on your properly, watching how your expression scrunched up in suspicion made Mydei want to roll his eyes. It’s so obvious.
He sighs deeply, sounding a bit exasperated at your clear denial of him being in the right. You won’t let up, won’t you? “You trust me with making your food but you won’t trust my intuition when it comes to finding condiments?”
“Precisely.” You scoff. “Who knows if you’re lying to me at this moment just to make a fool out of me?!”
“Hmph. How ironic. You know I have no time for such stupidity.”
Shaking his head, he hands you the onion powder. “Sniff it, I know you’re thinking it’s garlic powder instead of onion powder, but I’m sure you’ll realize the difference once you sniff—”
It didn’t take long for you to break free from your denial as soon as the pungent stench assaulted your nose hairs, causing your eye to twitch in retaliation.
Yup, it’s definitely onion powder. “…Oh. You weren’t kidding.”
Mydei rolls his eyes, taking the onion powder from your hands before closing the lid. “Obviously. I meant it when I said I don’t have time to indulge in inane behavior.”
“Come,” He places a gentle hand on your back, leading you away from the pantry and into the kitchen, his eyes still keeping its sharp quality. “The food won’t finish cooking itself.”
Even if your past behavior did irk Mydei a bit, it didn’t mean he won’t ditch the delicious meal he had been learning behind your back. Why throw all his hard work away because of a minor spat?
A funny one at that.
Why devoid himself of your radiant smile that grew with each bite you took? Why devoid himself the chance to savor your delicious reactions whenever he leans over the counter, wiping sauce from the corner of your lips with his thumb, leaving you a bit flustered yet content nonetheless?
He couldn’t bring himself to stop cooking for you, not when his cooking was more than enough to temper your hunger and leave you thoroughly satisfied.
To him? Your happiness is what made it all worth it.
a/n: decided to cook this up as a warm up !! I feel like my writing has gotten a teensy bit stiff (this is what happens when I don't write for a bit😔 i forget my own flow and i'm forced to stare at my own writing blankly for 10 minutes until inspiration strikes me yet again!!)
ngl i may come back to this post later today and tweak it so it reads,, i dunno,, dynamic and fun?? because funnily enough it reads kinda stale.
i've been meaning to write for mydei for a fat minute too but i kept putting it off </3 until i got the random urge to write something for mydei out of all characters 🤔i probably wanted to write for someone new instead of writing for hugo for the umpteenth time (love him tho LMAOO)
I guess i needed a palette cleanser!! and mydei was the character for said palette cleanser!! (these references to cooking is making me giggle sljdasfjn)
which yes i'm still working on that silly hugo oneshot oooh noooo i didn't forget LMAOO
wowie i don't have much to say,, probably cause it's currently 5 am uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i'm gonna go snook mimimi now ok ok!!
If Valko were any less composed, he might've quite literally jumped from his seat and padded right over to you, tail swinging uncontrollably behind him. He did. He only stopped short when he turned and saw just who you were directing that attention to.
That damn mutt you still kept around.
"Yes you are, you're the goodest of boys!" you continue your unwarranted, and undeserved praise or the canine pawing at your knees, yipping happily and soaking up all your attention.
Meanwhile your actual good boy was standing behind you, pouting. Completely ignored.
Later when you were getting ready for bed, you were a bit surprised to find your bedroom door locked, with your dog behind it, whining.
Can I request please 🥺? Modern & Collage Au Mydeimos that have been dating with reader & he is down bad. Only when after graduation, reader told him that it's all a bet.
Playing the Long Game
Modern AU | Yandere!Mydei x Reader
The gymnasium smelled of sweat. The bleachers were packed, students waving handmade banners and chanting in rhythm.
You lifted your camera and zoomed in on the court.
Through the viewfinder, you watched Phainon - captain, the one whose face graced half the campus promotional material. He passed to the player on his left, who drove toward the basket, and the entire gym held its breath.
Swish.
The crowd erupted.
The photo captured the exact moment the ball sailed through the net, the shooter's arm still extended, the expression of pure focus frozen in time. Behind him, you could see the opposing team's shoulders slump, their coach shouting something lost in the noise.
You lowered the camera and exhaled. That was probably the shot the school paper would want for the front page. The photographer on duty, Ayato, had asked you to cover this match because his grandmother was in the hospital. You'd said yes without hesitation, you owed him for covering your shift last month when you'd come down with a fever.
You'd done enough event coverage: festivals, guest lectures, the occasional club fair, that your face was familiar to both students and teachers.
"Nice shot, Y/N." A voice appeared at your elbow, and you didn't need to turn to know it was Himari, your best friend.
"Thanks." you said, keeping your eyes on the court as the opposing team called a timeout.
"Uh-huh." Himari leaned against the railing, her gaze fixed on you with an expression you'd learned to recognize, the one that meant she was plotting something. "You know, I've been watching you watch them."
"I'm taking photos. It's literally my job right now."
"I'm not talking about the game." She grinned and gestured broadly toward the court, where the players were returning to position, and one figure in particular stood a head taller than the rest. "Fyi, that's Mydei." She paused, searching for the right word. "You looked at him through your lens like he was a tree. A very tall, very attractive tree."
"He's a player." you said flatly. "I'm a photographer. He's the subject. That's the extent of it."
"Exactly." She clapped her hands together. "That's the problem."
You sighed. "Is there a point to this, Himari? Because the game's about to restart, and I need to be ready."
The timeout ended. The teams returned to the court, tension coiling in the air like a spring about to snap.
Mydei got the ball. He faked left, spun right, and rose for the shot.
The gym went silent.
Swish.
The crowd exploded into chaos. Students leapt to their feet, banners waving, voices merging into an indistinguishable roar of triumph.
"Great.." Himari murmured. She wasn't looking at the court. She was looking at you. "You know, Y/N, I've been thinking. We've been friends for... what, three years? And in all that time, I've never seen you crush on anyone. You're nice, people like you. But you've never dated. You've never even expressed interest."
"Not interested." you said.
"That's the problem!" She jabbed a finger at your chest. "Everyone needs someone, Y/N. Even if it's just a little excitement. A little adventure. Something to break the monotony of taking photos of people you don't even look at twice."
You were about to respond when a sudden hush fell over the gymnasium. The opposing team was huddled together. The coach was talking rapidly, but his players were shaking their heads. It was over. Everyone could feel it.
And Himari's eyes lit up with a terrible glint.
"Let's make a bet."
"What?"
"Here's the deal." She crossed her arms, the picture of confidence. "After the game, you go down there. You find Mydei and you confess to him. Tell him you want to date him."
You stared at her. "You're insane."
"Maybe. But listen to the rest." She leaned in. "If you can make the relationship last until graduation, I'll give you anything you want. Anything within reason, obviously. But I'll make it happen. That trip to the mountains you've been wanting to take? Done. That camera lens you've been eyeing? Yours. Whatever it is, I'll make sure you get it."
"You're betting that I can't date someone."
"I'm betting that you won't. Because you're comfortable. You're safe. And the thought of putting yourself out there terrifies you." She tilted her head. "Am I wrong?"
The buzzer sounded.
The game was over.
Students poured onto the court, swarming the players. The Kremnos team was a sea of ecstatic faces, jerseys being pulled off, teammates hugging, the coach getting drenched with a water cooler. It was beautiful chaos, the kind of moment that made your photographer's heart sing.
And there, slightly apart from the center of the chaos, was Mydei. He was smiling and clapping his teammates on the back.
Himari was watching you. "Well?"
You looked at her. Then you looked at your camera. Then you looked back at the court, where the team was gathering for a group photo.
"I need to go down anyway." you said, "Ayato asked me to get a group shot for the paper. And the after-game interviews."
"Of course you do." Himari's grin was infuriatingly knowing. "And while you're down there..."
"I'm not agreeing to anything."
"You didn't say no."
You didn't answer. Instead, you lifted your camera and began making your way down the bleachers, weaving through celebrating students and parents, your heart beating a little faster than it had any right to.
Getting the group shot was easy. The team was still riding the high of victory, and they lined up with minimal complaint. Phainon stood in the center, predictably, his arm around the coach.
Mydei stood on the left end, his arms crossed, his expression more reserved. But when you lowered your camera after taking the shot, his eyes met yours for a brief moment, and you saw something flicker there. Curiosity, maybe.
The gym was slowly emptying, students trickling toward the exits.
You kept your camera raised, hiding behind the lens, watching.
The team dispersed. Some headed for the locker room. Others stayed to talk to friends or family who'd come down from the bleachers. Phainon was surrounded by admirers, as usual.
And Mydei was alone.
He was at the bench, one of the long ones that lined the court, shoving his gear into a duffel bag. His jersey was off, draped over his shoulder, leaving him in a sleeveless shirt that revealed the defined muscles of his arms and chest. His hair was damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead in a way that should have looked messy but somehow didn't.
He was packing up methodically. Like he had nowhere else to be.
You lowered your camera.
Your feet moved before your brain could stop them.
You walked across the court, past the lingering clusters of students, past the cheerleaders taking photos with the mascot, past everything. Your heart was hammering, but your face was calm.
Mydei looked up as you approached. He was already half-turned toward you, his duffel bag zipped and slung over one shoulder. For a moment, he just looked at you.
"Hey."
"Hey." His tone was neutral. He was probably used to people approaching him after games.
But then his gaze flicked past you, toward where Phainon was still surrounded by people, and something in his expression shifted. A resigned sort of understanding, like he thought he knew exactly what was coming.
"Let me guess," he said, "You want me to pass a message to Phainon? Or maybe you want a photo with him, and I can take it for you?"
"I.. no." you said.
His eyebrows rose slightly.
"No." you repeated, firmer this time. You took a breath. This was insane. This was the most insane thing you'd ever done.
But you were already here.
"I came down here to talk to you."
His suspicion didn't lessen. "About what?"
"About-" You paused. The words were right there. You'd rehearsed them in your head a hundred times on the walk over. But now, looking at him, they felt different.
You swallowed. "I've been taking photos of the team all season. And I've watched you play. Not just today. And I think you're incredible."
"I'm not here to ask you to pass a message to Phainon," you continued, "I'm here to ask you if you'd maybe want to go out with me sometime."
The gym was still buzzing around you, but in the small bubble you occupied, there was nothing but the sound of your own heartbeat.
Mydei stared at you.
"You're serious." he said. It wasn't a question.
"Dead serious."
He looked at you like he was trying to determine if this was some elaborate prank, if someone was about to jump out with a camera and shout "gotcha."
But no one did.
And slowly, the suspicion in his eyes began to fade.
"That's not what I was expecting."
"I figured."
"You came all the way down here. Walked right past that guy." He shook his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You really meant me."
"I really meant you."
There was a beat of silence. Then he reached into his duffel bag and pulled out his phone, extending it toward you.
"Then you should probably put your number in here." he said. "Since you're asking me out and all."
You stared at the phone for half a second before taking it, your fingers brushing his. You typed in your number, added your name, and handed it back.
"I'll text you."
"Okay," you said.
And then he was gone.
You stood there for a long moment, the noise of the gym washing over you.
Then, from the bleachers, you heard a high-pitched squeal.
You looked up. Himari was waving frantically, her face alight with triumph.
You shook your head, but you couldn't stop the smile that spread across your face.
This was insane.
----
The week that followed your confession passed in a blur of text.
You didn't see him face to face.
Your classes were on opposite ends of campus. The timing never aligned. You'd be walking to your afternoon lecture just as he was heading to practice. He'd be grabbing lunch during your only free period. It was as if the universe was testing you, seeing if this thing between you could survive on words alone.
It could.
The first night, after he'd texted you, the conversation had started tentatively.
Mydei: So. What's your major?
You: Secret, lol :)). And you?
Mydei: Sports science. Shocking, I know.
You: I never would have guessed (¬_¬).
You'd smiled at your phone, curled up in your bed. The blue light had illuminated your face as you typed back.
By the third day, the tentative politeness had melted away.
You discovered that he was a morning person, he discovered that you were absolutely not, your ideal wake-up time being somewhere around "whenever the sun decides to be reasonable."
Mydei: 5am is reasonable.
You: 5am is an abomination.
Mydei: You're an abomination.
You: Rude.
He sent a photo of his coffee. You sent a photo of your own, a caramel monstrosity with whipped cream and drizzle.
Mydei: That's dessert.
You: And? Your point?
Mydei: No point.
You learned that he'd started playing basketball because his father had pushed him into it, but had fallen in love with the game somewhere along the way. You learned that he hated horror movies but would never admit it out loud.
"I just don't see the point." he'd typed, defensively. "Why would I pay money to be scared?"
You learned that he was funny. Dry, sarcastic, with a wit that caught you off guard and made you laugh out loud in the middle of the library, earning you a harsh shush from the librarian.
He learned that you took photos of everything, not just for work, but because you saw beauty in the mundane. The way light fell across a staircase. The pattern of raindrops on a window. The tired, content expression on a barista's face at the end of their shift.
He learned that you were a little bit shy, but warm once you opened up. That you had a dry sense of humor that matched his own.
By the fifth day, you felt like you'd known him for years.
And that terrified you.
You planned to meet him at a café near campus, a small place tucked between a bookstore and a secondhand shop.
You: Almost there. Sorry!
Mydei: No rush. I saved you a seat.
You pushed open the door, the little bell above it chiming, and scanned the room.
You found him immediately.
He was at a table near the window, his head bowed over his phone, the afternoon light spilling across his features. He hadn't seen you yet. He was wearing a white button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, paired with a sleeveless V-neck knit sweater vest. It was a distinctly preppy look, but on him, it was different. The fabric was fitted enough to hint at the broadness of his shoulders, the lean strength of his build.
His hair was slightly damp, like he'd just showered. A few strands fell across his forehead, and he pushed them back absently as he scrolled through his phone.
You lifted your phone and snapped a picture of him, the light catching the sharp line of his jaw, the soft curve of his mouth. The way his fingers curled around his phone.
You sent it to him.
His phone buzzed. He looked down at it, and you watched his expression shift from confusion, then recognition, then a slow, spreading smile.
He looked up, then he stood immediately, pulling out the chair across from him. "You're indeed late."
"Bus," you said, sliding into the seat. "Sorry."
"Don't be." He gestured to the table, where a drink was already waiting for you. "I ordered for you. I hope that's okay."
You looked at the cup. It was a caramel latte with whipped cream and a drizzle of syrup. A tiny heart drawn in the foam.
You looked up at him, something warm spreading through your chest. "You remembered."
"Of course I remembered." He sat back down, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I pay attention."
You wrapped your hands around the cup, the warmth seeping into your palms.
"So. How was your week?"
"Busy," you admitted. "I had three shoots for the school paper, and Ayato keeps asking me to cover more events."
"Ayato?"
"The one I was covering for last week." You took a sip of your latte. It was perfect. "He's grateful, but also he's got a habit of pushing his work onto me whenever he can."
"You should tell him no."
"I should," you agreed. "But I'm not very good at that."
Mydei studied you for a moment. "I'm noticing that about you. You're too nice."
"Or maybe you just bring it out in me."
His lips twitched. "Smooth."
You laughed, and the tension you hadn't realized you'd been holding melted away. The conversation flowed like it had been doing all week, jumping from topic to topic with the ease of old friends.
"I saw there's a new movie showing," he said, after you'd finished your drinks and moved on to a second. "I know I said I hate horror, but-" He shrugged, a hint of vulnerability in the gesture. "I thought maybe we could watch it together. If you're interested."
"You want to watch a horror movie? Even though you hate them?"
"I want to watch one with you." He said it simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "So I'm willing to make an exception."
"That's—" You paused, searching for the right words. "That's really sweet."
"I'm not sweet," he said, almost immediately. "I'm cool and mysterious."
"You literally just admitted to being scared of horror movies."
"I admitted to disliking them. There's a difference."
"Sure there is."
The movie will be on next weekend. You spent the rest of the day checking your phone every few minutes even though there was nothing new to see. Himari caught you at it and smirked.
"Look at you," she said, flopping onto your bed. "All lovesick."
"I'm not lovesick," you said, shoving your phone under your pillow. "I'm just... curious."
"Curious about what? Whether he'll hold your hand? Whether he'll kiss you?" She wiggled her eyebrows. "Whether he's a good kisser?"
"Himari!"
"What? It's a valid question!"
You threw a pillow at her. She caught it and laughed.
But later that night, lying in the dark, you couldn't stop thinking about her words. About the bet. About the fact that this was supposed to be a game, and yet-
And yet you actually liked him. Not in the way you'd expected.
This was exactly the kind of thing you'd tried to avoid your whole life. The kind of thing that could get messy.
But you weren't doing anything wrong, you reminded yourself. You'd confessed honestly. And if you eventually had to explain the bet- which you absolutely would, someday, when you were ready- you'd explain it.
That was the plan.
You just had to stick to it.
---
Monday came, and with it, a new rhythm.
You'd barely sat down in your morning class when your phone buzzed.
Mydei: Look up.
You looked up, confused. There was nothing at the front of the room, just the professor preparing the slides. You scanned the window, and there he was.
He was standing outside the classroom, his practice bag slung over one shoulder, a carton of milk in his hand. He lifted it in a small wave when he caught your eye, then mouthed something you couldn't quite read.
You stepped out of the classroom, and he pressed the milk carton into your hands.
"You need to drink more calcium," he said, completely serious. "You're a photographer. You need to be healthy."
"Is that your excuse?"
"It's a valid one." He smiled. "I'll see you at practice?"
"Same time?"
"Same time."
He was gone before you could say anything else.
You stared at the milk carton in your hands.
This was ridiculous. This was the most ridiculous thing anyone had ever done for you.
You couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.
His practice sessions became part of your routine.
You'd finish your last class, grab your camera, and head to the gym. He'd be there, running drills with the team, and you'd find a seat in the bleachers and take photos. Not for the paper, just for yourself.
You caught him laughing at something Phainon said. You caught him glancing up at you, a soft smile on his face, before he turned back to the court.
You kept those photos on your phone.
You didn't know he had one too.
The first time you noticed, it was a Wednesday. You were helping him pack up his bag after practice, and his phone was on the bench. You glimpsed the screen as it lit up.
It was you.
You'd been looking away, mid-laugh. It was a candid shot.
"You take photos of me?"
There was a moment of hesitation in his eyes before he shrugged, the motion deliberately casual.
"Only when you're not looking."
You blinked. "That's..."
"Creepy?"
"Endearing."
He stared at you. "You think it's endearing?"
"I think it's cute that you're a secret photographer." You picked up his phone, scrolling through his gallery. There were dozens of photos of you. In the library, your nose buried in a book. At the café, laughing at something he'd said. On the bleachers, your camera raised to your eye.
"These are good," you said, genuinely impressed. "You have a good eye."
"I have a good subject." he said, and your cheeks flushed.
"You should post these," you said, handing the phone back. "On your story or something."
"No." He shook his head immediately.
"Why not?"
He looked at you for a long moment, something unreadable in his eyes. "Because I want to keep you to myself." he said. "The photos. The memories. They're mine."
"You're.." you started, but the words wouldn't come.
"I know." He smiled "I'm not great with sharing."
"You're an only child, aren't you?"
"Shut up."
You laughed, and he laughed too, and the moment was easy and warm and perfect.
But even as you laughed, a small voice whispered in the back of your mind.
You haven't told him about the bet.
You will. Eventually.
You just needed to figure out how.
----
Sunday arrived grey and cool, the kind of day that made you want to bundle up in layers and hold a warm drink between your palms. You'd spent the morning nervously picking out an outfit, changing three times before finally settling on something comfortable but presentable.
Mydei had texted you that morning.
Mydei: Wear something warm. I'm picking you up.
You: Picking me up? Where's the movie?
Mydei: It's a surprise. Just be ready at 6.
At exactly 6, your phone buzzed.
Mydei: I'm outside.
You headed out.
He was leaning against a sleek black motorcycle, helmet tucked under his arm.
He looked like he'd stepped out of a magazine.
Black leather jacket, worn and fitted, zipped just enough to hint at the white shirt beneath. His hair was slightly windswept, and when he saw you, a slow smile spread across his face.
"You look nice."
"You look like you're about to star in a bad boy drama."
His smile widened. "Is that a good thing?"
"Debatable."
He laughed and handed you a helmet. "Ready?"
You took it, your fingers brushing his. "Ready."
The ride was exhilarating, wind whipping past you, the city lights blurring into streaks of gold and red. You wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling the solid warmth of him through his jacket, and he leaned back slightly, just enough to press closer to you.
The movie theater was small, the kind of place that showed films no one else was showing. The thriller he'd mentioned was playing in one of the smaller screens, and you settled into your seats with a shared bucket of popcorn.
The marketing had been excellent.
The movie was not.
Thirty minutes in, you leaned over to him, your voice a whisper. "Is it just me, or is this actually terrible?"
He turned to look at you, "It's terrible."
"Oh thank god."
"I thought you liked horrors?"
"I like good horrors. This..." You gestured at the screen, where the protagonist was making yet another inexplicably stupid decision. "This is a tragedy."
"Should we leave?"
"No." You shook your head firmly. "I need to see how it ends. It's a train wreck. I can't look away."
He laughed and leaned closer. "Then tell me what's going to happen next."
So you did.
Every time a character made a poor choice, you leaned over to whisper your commentary. "He's going to go into that basement alone, isn't he? Of course he is. Why would anyone make a smart decision?" Or, "She's definitely the killer. I called it five minutes ago. Watch.."
You were so caught up in your predictions that you didn't notice how closely he was watching you. How his gaze kept drifting from the screen to your face, following the animated expressions as you dissected every plot hole and ridiculous twist.
"Okay," you said, near the end, "if they don't explain the thing with the necklace, I'm going to-"
"You're going to what?" he asked, his voice a low murmur close to your ear.
You turned to look at him.
He was closer than you'd realized. Close enough that you could see the flecks of gold in his eyes even in the dark. The slight smile on his lips. The way his attention was entirely, completely on you.
"I..."
He didn't look away.
On screen, the climax of the movie played out, but neither of you was watching.
The movie ended, predictably, with a twist that made no sense.
"That was terrible." you announced as you walked out of the theater. "I want my two hours back."
"I want your commentary back," he said, bumping your shoulder with his. "That was the best part."
"Oh, so you weren't even watching the movie?"
"I was watching you watch the movie," he admitted. "Much more entertaining."
You felt your cheeks warm.
"Want to grab a drink? I know a place."
"Is it another surprise?"
"You'll have to find out."
He drove you away from the city, away from the lights and noise, to a place you'd never been before. A small park on a hill, overlooking the valley below. The stars were visible here, scattered across the sky like spilled salt, and the only sounds were the rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the city far below.
He parked the motorcycle and led you to a wooden bench, perfectly positioned to watch the night sky.
"Soda?" he offered, pulling two cans from his jacket pocket.
"You just carry soda around with you?"
"Only on special occasions."
You took the can, your fingers brushing his, and sat down beside him. The bench was just big enough for two, and you were close enough that your shoulders touched.
The stars were beautiful.
So was he.
You tried not to think about it.
Couples passed by occasionally. A pair stopped near a tree to kiss. You deliberately looked away, focusing on the sky above.
Don't look. Don't think about it.
"Hey."
You turned.
Mydei was looking at you, his eyes soft in the starlight. His hand came up to cup your jaw.
And then he kissed you.
His lips were warm and firm, tasting faintly of the soda he'd been drinking. His other hand found your back, steadying you, pulling you closer.
You kissed him back, your hand finding his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm on your lips.
"Wow..." you breathed.
"Wow indeed." he agreed.
And for a moment, everything was perfect.
The ride back to your dorm was quiet. His hand found yours when you stopped at a light, and he gave it a gentle squeeze.
"Same time next week?" he asked when you pulled off your helmet.
"I'd like that." you said. And you meant it.
He smiled. "I'll text you."
You watched him drive away, then headed inside, your heart full and your mind churning.
This was getting out of control.
You'd started this for a bet. For a stupid, childish challenge that Himari had thrown at you.
But now. Now you actually cared about him.
And the thought of graduation, of the bet ending, of having to explain everything- You shook your head, pushing the thoughts away.
You'd figure it out. You had to. You couldn't lose the bet.
Mydei unlocked his apartment door, stepped inside, and locked it behind him.
Then he leaned back against the wood, his hand coming up to his lips.
He'd kissed you.
The memory of it played on loop in his mind, the softness of your lips, the warmth of you in his arms, the way you'd looked at him like he was the only person in the world.
His ears burned.
He slid down the door, sitting on the floor, a stupid grin spreading across his face.
He couldn't wait to see you again.
He couldn't wait to kiss you again.
He couldn't wait.
---
At school, the routine continued.
He brought you milk and snacks during recess, always with a quick smile and a "don't forget to eat." You visited his practices, your camera capturing him in motion, and he'd glance up at you with that soft smile that made your heart flutter.
His friends started noticing.
Phainon cornered him after practice one day, a knowing grin on his face. "About Y/N."
"What?"
"Nothing. Just.. you took a lot of photos of them."
"I like taking photos."
"Hmm.. okay."
You saw the way his friends would glance at you when you arrived at practice.
"Your friends are staring," you said one afternoon, helping him pack his bag.
"They're jealous." He said it simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I get to spend time with you. They don't."
Your cheeks flushed. "You're ridiculous."
"You like it."
He was right. You did.
----
The afternoon sun filtered through the campus trees, casting dappled shadows across the courtyard. Mydei was walking with Phainon, heading toward the humanities building to find you before your next class.
His eyes had found you.
You were standing near the fountain, a cluster of art students around you. A guy with dark hair and round glasses was leaning in close, pointing at something in your hands. Printed photos, from the look of it. You were laughing at something he said, your head tilted back, and the guy's hand brushed yours as he reached for another photo.
Mydei's jaw tightened.
Phainon noticed immediately. He followed Mydei's gaze, and a grin spread across his face.
"Jealous?" he asked, his voice dripping with amusement.
Mydei's expression didn't change. He turned away, nudging Phainon with his elbow. "Hardly."
"You were staring."
"I was looking."
"Same thing."
"It's not." Mydei resumed walking, but his pace was faster now. "They're just friends. They're probably comparing work."
"Uh-huh." Phainon jogged to catch up. "And that's why you look like you want to punch that guy's face in?"
"I don't look like that."
"You absolutely look like that."
Mydei shot him a warning glance, but Phainon was undeterred. He'd known Mydei long enough to recognize when he was unsettled.
Mydei stopped walking. He turned to look at Phainon, "What's your point?"
Phainon held up his hands in surrender. "No point. Just.. be careful, alright? You're not exactly the most expressive person. Y/N might not realize how much you actually care."
Mydei was quiet for a long moment. Then he turned and continued walking.
"I'll keep that in mind."
He didn't make it to your class.
By the time he arrived, you'd already left. He saw you walking across campus with the same group of students, the guy still by your side, and he decided to give you space.
You'd texted him later that night.
You: Sorry! Got caught up with a group project.
Mydei: It's fine. I saw you anyway.
You: Saw me?
Mydei: You looked busy.
You: Ah, yeah. Ayato roped me into something. He got me a part-time job opportunity, I can't really turn it down. It's good experience.
Mydei: That sounds great. You should take it.
You: You sure? I might not be able to come to your practices as often.
Mydei: It's fine. Focus on your work.
He typed the words easily enough. But his chest felt tight.
You'd accepted the job Ayato offered, a freelance photography gig for a local magazine, nothing huge but a step toward your career goals. The hours were unpredictable, the deadlines demanding, and by the time you collapsed into bed each night, you barely had energy to text.
Mydei understood.
Or at least, he told himself he did.
He'd send you good morning texts, receive a sleepy reply an hour later. He'd ask about your day, get a brief update between editing sessions. He'd invite you to his practices, but you always had to decline.
You: I'm so sorry. Another shoot ran late.
Mydei: It's okay. We have a match this weekend. You'll come?
You: I'll try. I promise.
He'd stare at that message for too long, reading between lines that might not even exist.
----
His team had fought hard, pushed through exhaustion, and emerged victorious. The gym erupted in cheers. His teammates mobbed him, Phainon clapping him on the back with a grin. It was a good win. A solid win.
But Mydei didn't feel it.
His eyes kept drifting to the bleachers, searching for a familiar figure with a camera. He'd told himself you might not make it. He'd prepared for it.
Still.
The disappointment settled in his chest like a stone.
He checked his phone after the game. A message from you.
You: I'm so sorry. I couldn't get away. Good luck, you've got this. I know you'll win.
He typed back quickly.
Mydei: We did. Don't worry about it.
He pocketed his phone and walked out of the gym.
It was pouring outside.
The rain came down in sheets, turning the campus into a blur of grey and black. Students dashed between buildings, umbrellas bobbing like scattered flowers. Mydei stood under the awning of the gym, watching the water pool on the pavement.
He'd forgotten his umbrella.
He considered waiting. It could let up. It probably would.
But the weight in his chest was heavier than any rain, and suddenly, he didn't care about getting wet. He stepped out into the downpour, the cold shock of water hitting his skin a welcome distraction.
He was halfway across the courtyard when he felt it.
The rain stopped falling on him.
You were standing there, an umbrella held high above his head, your breath coming in quick gasps. Your clothes were damp, your hair plastered to your face, and you were holding the umbrella with both hands like you'd been running.
"I'm sorry," you said, your voice a little breathless. "I'm so sorry I'm late."
He stared at you.
The rain continued to pour around you, but under the umbrella, there was only you. Your cheeks, flushed from running. Your hand, trembling slightly from the effort of holding the umbrella steady.
"The match. I..." You swallowed. "My shoot ran over and I tried to get here but I couldn't... I was so worried I'd miss you—"
And then he was pulling you into his arms.
The umbrella slipped from your grip and fell to the ground.
His arms wrapped around you, crushing you against his chest, his face buried in your hair. He turned instinctively, his back to the rain, shielding you from the worst of it.
"You came." he murmured, his voice muffled against you.
"I said I'd try."
He held you tighter.
You were soaking wet. He was soaking wet. The rain soaked through your clothes, cold and relentless, and neither of you moved.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were bright. "You're going to get sick."
"So are you."
"I don't get sick."
He giggled and bent down to pick up the fallen umbrella. He held it over both of you, his arm coming to rest around your shoulders.
"Your place or mine?"
"Yours is farther," you pointed out. "Mine's just off campus."
"Mine it is."
"I said mine is closer."
"I heard you." He tugged you closer, shielding you from the rain as you started walking.
Your apartment was small but warm.
Mydei stood in the doorway, dripping on the mat.
"Bathroom's through there," you said, pointing. "Towels are in the cabinet. I'll find you something to wear."
He nodded, still looking around. His eyes landed on the photos on the wall, your work, mostly, candid shots of campus life, of friends, of moments that mattered to you.
Later, he emerged from the bathroom, wearing the clothes you gave him. His hair was still damp, curling slightly at the ends.
You'd changed too. The kettle was boiling on the counter, and you were stirring two cups of tea.
You settled on the floor together, the tea warming your hands, and you pulled out an old photo album because he seemed to focus on it.
"These are from my first year."
He leaned in, his shoulder brushing yours.
The photos were a timeline of your life.
He stopped at a page of photos taken at his games.
"You kept these."
"Of course I kept them." You didn't look at him. "They're good photos."
"Not the team. Me."
He pointed at a photo of him mid-shot, the ball leaving his fingers, his face a mask of concentration.
"I mean, I took a lot of photos.."
Then he didn't say anything. He just turned the page.
"These are beautiful." he said quietly.
You opened your mouth to respond, but your phone buzzed. You glanced at it and sighed.
"I'm sorry, I have to send a few emails for work."
"Take your time."
Mydei sat on the floor, surrounded by the pages of your life. The photos.
He picked up the album, flipping back to the page with his photos.
His fingers traced the edge of one. He lifted the album to his face.
And took a long, slow inhale.
It smelled like you.
The same scent that clung to your clothes, your pillows, your skin. He closed his eyes, savoring it.
He wanted to stay here forever. In your room, surrounded by your things, breathing the same air as you.
When you came back, he'd closed the album and was scrolling through his phone.
The rain stopped an hour later.
"Thank you," he said. "For the clothes. For the tea. For—"
"Coming to the match?" You smiled. "I said I'd try."
"See you."
He leaned in, just for a moment, just to brush his lips against your forehead, and then he was gone.
---
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across campus as Mydei rounded the corner near the humanities building. He'd been looking for you, wanted to surprise you with coffee when he stopped short.
You were talking to Ayato.
You were laughing at something Ayato said, your head tilted back, that open, warm laugh that Mydei had come to treasure. Ayato was leaning in, his hand brushing your arm.
Mydei couldn't hear the full conversation. Just fragments.
"..this weekend, if you're free..."
"I'd love to, actually"
"...just the two of us."
You turned then, your eyes landing on him, and you startled visibly. A flash of guilt crossed your face, or was that his imagination, before you smiled and waved him over.
"Mydei! Good timing." You stepped toward him, and Ayato followed. "We were just about to come find you. Ayato's working on interview questions for the yearbook, and he wanted some input from a student athlete. I thought you'd be perfect to help."
"Interview questions?"
"Just examples," Ayato said smoothly. "We want to make sure the questions are relevant. You know how it is."
He didn't care.
But he nodded anyway. "I can help."
"Great!" You beamed at him, and the warmth in your eyes eased something in his chest. "We were just about to head to the club room. Come on."
The club room was cluttered with yearbooks, camera equipment, and stacks of papers. You settled into a chair, pulling out a notebook, while Ayato sat across from you. Mydei took the seat beside you, close enough that his knee brushed yours.
"So," Ayato began, flipping through his notes, "we're looking for questions that capture the student experience."
"Like what?" Mydei asked, his voice flat.
"What's the one memory from your time here that you'll never forget?"
You were already writing, your pen moving across the page. "That's a good one. What about the hardest challenge you've faced?"
Mydei answered mechanically, his mind elsewhere. He was watching the way Ayato leaned toward you, the way his eyes lingered on your face. The way you seemed so comfortable with him.
He hated it.
Your pen slipped from your fingers, rolling under the table.
"I'll get it." you said, already bending down.
"I've got it." Ayato said at the same time, reaching under the table.
You both dove for the pen. Mydei saw your heads heading for a collision and his hand moved before he could think.
He covered your head with his palm, shielding you just as Ayato's head bumped into his hand instead.
"Careful." Mydei said. His hand lingered on your head for a moment longer than necessary.
"Thanks."
Ayato straightened, the pen in his hand. He handed it to you, his expression a little sheepish. "Sorry about that."
"It's fine. My fault." You took the pen, your fingers brushing Ayato's, and Mydei's jaw tightened.
He pulled his hand back.
"Let's finish this," he said. "I have practice soon."
You worked through the questions, drafting sample answers, and Mydei contributed when asked. His voice was professional, but his eyes never left you.
When it was done, you thanked him with a smile. "You're a lifesaver. I'll text you later?"
"Sure," he said. "I'll see you around."
He walked out of the club room, his hands shoved in his pockets.
The door clicked shut behind him.
This is no good.
How long had that been going on? How long had you been spending time with Ayato without telling him?
He should ask you. He should just.. ask.
But the thought of hearing the answer made his stomach turn.
So he didn't.
Instead, he made a decision.
The next day, Mydei followed Ayato.
It was late afternoon, the sky beginning to darken. Ayato was walking alone, his attention on his phone. He didn't notice Mydei several paces behind.
Mydei didn't know what he was doing. He didn't have a plan. He just knew that he couldn't let Ayato keep spending time with you.
A car rounded the corner, its headlights cutting through the twilight.
Mydei saw his chance.
----
He'd done what he needed to do. Nothing serious. Just enough to keep Ayato away for a while.
He told himself it was justified.
The next practice, you arrived during his break.
"Hey," you said, handing him a water bottle. "Thought you might need this."
Mydei took it, his fingers brushing yours. "Thanks."
You settled beside him on the bench, watching the rest of his team. The gym was loud with the squeak of sneakers and the thud of the ball.
"How's the interview going?"
"Almost done. Just a few more questions to finalize." You stretched your arms above your head. "Graduation's coming up fast. I have so much to do, handing over my notes to the new club members, the yearbook layout..."
"Busy."
"Always."
His teammates drifted away, heading for the locker room, and suddenly, you were alone.
Mydei set down the water bottle. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"The other day. With Ayato." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "He asked you somewhere this weekend?"
"Yeah, he did. It's for the yearbook, we're scouting locations for the photos. Why?"
Something loosened in Mydei's chest. "Just the yearbook?"
"Is that what you were worried about?" You laughed, "Mydei, I've been drowning in work. I barely have time to breathe. Whatever Ayato asked me, it was probably work-related. What else would it be?"
He nodded as he reached down to grab a towel that had fallen to the floor, and a sharp pain shot through his side.
He winced.
You noticed immediately.
"Mydei?" You leaned forward, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"You winced."
"It's fine."
You didn't believe him. You reached out, your fingers finding the hem of his shirt. Before he could stop you, you'd lifted it, exposing his torso.
A bruise bloomed near his ribs, spreading across his skin like a storm cloud.
"What happened?"
"It's nothing." he said again, pulling his shirt down. "I fell during practice. It happens."
He looked at you, at the concern etched into your face, the worry in your eyes, and something in him cracked.
"I'll go to the infirmary." he said quietly. "After practice."
"Now."
"After practice."
"Now." you repeated, and your voice left no room for argument.
He sighed. "Fine."
You watched him gather his things, your gaze lingering on him with an intensity that made his chest ache.
"I'll text you later." he said.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
The days that followed were a blur of missed texts and canceled plans.
You were busy, genuinely busy, buried in graduation preparations and club handovers and thesis revisions. Mydei was busy too, with final practices and exams and the chaos of wrapping up his own coursework.
The texts were brief. The calls, even briefer.
----
Graduation day.
The auditorium was packed with students in caps and gowns, families in their best clothes, cameras flashing from every angle. The air hummed with excitement and nostalgia, the bittersweet weight of endings and beginnings.
You sat in the row with your classmates, your cap slightly askew, a smile on your face.
You'd made it.
The ceremony was a blur of speeches and names and applause. You clapped for your friends, cheered for Himari, who blew you a kiss from across the aisle.
And then, when it was over, you spilled out into the sunlight, laughing and crying and hugging everyone in sight.
You searched the crowd for Mydei.
You found him at the edge of the courtyard, surrounded by his teammates.
You made your way toward him, weaving through the crowd.
He met you halfway.
"Congratulations."
"Congratulations to you too."
He pulled you into a hug. His arms wrapped around you, and you buried your face in his shoulder.
"Are you okay?" you asked, your voice muffled against his gown.
"Better now."
You pulled back, meeting his eyes.
"We made it." you said.
You couldn't drag this out any longer.
You glanced over Mydei's shoulder. Himari was watching you from across the courtyard, her arms crossed, her expression expectant. She'd been waiting for this. Waiting for you to finally tell him the truth.
You swallowed hard.
"Mydei," you said, your voice barely audible over the noise. "Can we go somewhere? Just for a minute?"
"Of course."
You led him away from the crowd, past the auditorium, to a quiet corner behind the building. The noise faded to a distant hum. It was just the two of you.
You turned to face him.
"There's something I need to tell you."
He waited.
The guilt was suffocating.
"Remember the day I confessed to you? After the game?" You couldn't meet his eyes. "It wasn't... it wasn't entirely genuine. Himari made a bet with me. She said if I could make a relationship last until graduation, she'd give me anything I wanted."
You forced yourself to look up.
Mydei was frozen.
His eyes were hollow.
"I thought it would be easy. Just pretend for a while, win the bet, and move on. But then I got to know you, and you were so—" You choked on the words. "You were so wonderful, and I realized I actually cared about you, and I wanted to tell you so many times, but I was scared and I didn't know how-"
"Stop."
You stopped.
He stared at you for a long moment. His jaw was tight, his hands clenched at his sides.
"You used me..?" he said. His voice cracked on the last word. "This whole time?"
"I was... I am.." You reached for him. "I didn't plan for that. It just-"
"Don't. I don't want to hear anything else." He stepped back, out of your reach. "I thought you were different."
A tear slipped down his cheek.
Then another.
He wiped them away with the back of his hand, his expression crumbling.
"Please let me explain—"
"There's nothing to explain." His voice was flat now. "You made a bet. You won."
He turned and walked away.
You stood there, frozen, watching him disappear around the corner.
And then you sank to the ground, your knees giving out, and you let yourself cry.
You returned to Himari with red-rimmed eyes and a hollow chest.
She took one look at you and her smile faltered. "How did it go?"
"How do you think it went?"
"Shit." She pulled you into a hug. "I'm sorry."
"Just shut up, Himari."
You stood there, wrapped in her arms, and felt nothing.
The rest of the day passed in a blur.
This should have been the happiest day of your life.
Instead, it was the worst.
---
That night, you were curled up in your room, staring at the ceiling, when your phone buzzed.
Your heart lurched.
You grabbed it, hoping that it was Mydei.
It was.
The message was a photo. A picture of a familiar house.
Himari's house.
Mydei: I'm sorry. The problem isn't you.
You stared at the message, your hands shaking.
You: Mydei. What are you doing?
Mydei: I'm going to fix this. She ruined everything.
You: Don't do anything stupid.
Mydei: After I'm done with her, I'll end myself. Then neither of us will be a problem anymore.
You scrambled to your feet, grabbing your jacket, your keys, anything.
You: Don't move. Don't do anything. I'm coming.
You arrived at Himari's house breathless, your lungs burning. The gate was open. The front door was ajar.
And there, in the garden, stood Mydei.
He had a knife in his hand.
"Stop!" you shouted, "Mydei, put that down!"
He turned to look at you. "She's inside."
"Don't do this." You crossed the garden, your hands raised.
"She turned you against me. She made you lie."
"Nobody turned me against you," you said, stepping closer. "I did this. It was my choice. My mistake. Please, please don't blame her for something I did."
He shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "You were the only one. And she took that away."
"She didn't," you said. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
"You're lying."
"I'm not."
He raised the knife.
"You're lying," he repeated. "Just like before. Just like always."
And then he turned toward the house.
"MYDEI!"
You lunged forward. Your hand closed around his wrist just as he raised the knife, and in the struggle, the blade swung toward your face.
Blood trickled down your cheek, dripping onto your jacket.
The knife clattered to the ground.
He dropped to his knees, his hands reaching for you. His fingers pressed against the cut, trying to stop the bleeding.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.."
"It's just a scratch. It stings a little, but I'll be fine."
"You're bleeding."
"It's not deep."
His arms wrapped around you, crushing you to his chest, his body shaking with sobs.
"I'm sorry," he gasped, his voice muffled against your shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
You held him, patting his back, your own tears mixing with the blood on your cheek.
"No.. I'm sorry." you whispered.
"Please. Please don't leave me. I know I don't deserve you. I know I should let you go. But I can't. I can't, I can't—"
"Shh." You pressed your forehead to his.
He clung to you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.
The hospital visit was brief. A few stitches, a tetanus shot, and a stern warning about keeping the wound clean.
You sat in the waiting room, Mydei beside you, his hand gripping yours like he was afraid you'd disappear.
"Can I stay with you tonight?"
You looked at him—at the exhaustion etched into his features, the guilt weighing down his shoulders.
"Okay."
Back at your apartment, you laid out a mat on the floor for him. He refused to take the bed, insisted on staying on the floor, close to you.
You climbed into bed, your body aching with exhaustion, and closed your eyes. The last thing you saw was Mydei, sitting up on the floor, his eyes fixed on you.
"Goodnight."
You fell asleep within minutes.
Mydei didn't sleep.
He sat on the floor, his back against the bed, watching you breathe. The rise and fall of your chest. The soft flutter of your eyelids. The bandage on your cheek.
He reached up, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. You stirred slightly, then settled.
He'd do anything to get back into your life.
The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting silver patterns across your sleeping face.
He did it.
And he'd do far worse if necessary, to make sure you never left again. But lucky for you, you'd done the right thing. You'd come to him. You'd stopped him. You'd promised to stay.
And he was going to make sure you kept that promise.
He pulled out his phone, the screen lighting up his face in the darkness. He opened his hidden album, the one you didn't know about, the one filled with photos of you.
Every single one was a piece of you. And he wanted all of them.
He angled his phone toward you, capturing the soft rise and fall of your chest, the gentle curve of your lips, the bandage on your cheek that marked you as his.
Can't wait to be with you forever.
He tucked his phone away.
He settled back against the bed, his eyes still fixed on you.
You stirred slightly, a soft murmur escaping your lips. He reached up, brushing his fingers through your hair.
Synopsis: Pervert!clingy!Phainon x nonchalant!mean!reader
Contents: Nsfw. Phainon is very clingy. Reader is pretty mean here and is dominant. Reader wears a bra and panties and has female anatomy, but gender is not actually specified. Phainon wears nipple clamps. Cunnilingus.
Phainon would go crazy at the slightest bit of skin you show. He can't help it! It's not his fault your bra strap is (slightly) peeking out makes his thoughts run wild!
He wonders what bras you like to wear. Molded? Balconette? Sports bra? Push-up? Triangle? Classic? Underwire? No wire? Soft? Is it sheer around your breasts or are they stuffed? How thick? How thin? Do you like plain ones or lacy ones? Muted colors or warm colors? Do you prefer not wearing one at all most times? Titans, the thought gets him going... Is there any way he can ask you that wouldn't weird you out? He really wishes you would just show him. Maybe he should sneak into your room and take a look into your closet? It's to get to know you better! And to aide his imagination.
Once your shirt lifted up while you were stretching your arms and he caught a glimpse of your panties from under your pants. He was lost in thought for a while, your voice not registering in his head as you called his name. Do you prefer bikini? Boy leg? Brief, or maybe full brief? He let out a dreamy sigh, imagining pulling your pants down to get a look. Unfortunately you don't wear any skirts, so what was he supposed to do? He can't take any upskirt shots to find out more:(
It didn't help how you practically ignored his existence. Everyone loved him! He was the Phainon of Aedes Elysiae, the deliverer of the Chyrsos heirs! Why do you divert your pretty eyes from his face? Why are your sentences so short and clipped? Please, tell him more about yourself! He told you about his day, why don't you tell him about yours? Huh? You're busy? Aww, how was he supposed to part with you so soon? You're making him all pouty:(
Every time you don't smile at his jokes, every 'tsk' you allow to escape from between your lips, your eyes that look up at the sky at pure annoyance from his clinginess, mumbling 'Titans, please save me...' doesn't deter him, if anything, he gets even more persistent! This dumbahh
"Please? Pretty please? With a cherry on top?"
"Quit your whining."
"But I really want you to come! The chimeras are just adorable, I'm sure you'll like them!"
"I'm busy."
"You said that last week."
"Yeah, and I'm still bus- stop pouting like that, it's pissing me off."
At first, the insults and rudeness sent his way made him feel really dejected. Do you really hate him? But gradually, he felt a shift in his feelings after reading a confession on Starddit where someone said they liked it when their crush was mean to them. Hmm... That does sound kinda nice... Would you keep degrading him in bed? Would you pull his fluffy white hair back? Would you chuckle at his tears as you deny him orgasm after orgasm? Cooing at him, telling him how cute he looks under you all the while you shove his face into your cunt, commanding him to suck? Would you tie him up? Or maybe you're actually more submissive in bed? Would you cry out his name, begging him for more?o.o that's nice too! He'll take good care of you regardless.
Eventually you start warming up to him. He is kinda cute when he does everything you tell him to without question.. Apart from leaving you alone, of course. His pretty lower pink lip sticking out when he pouts at you makes you smirk, chuckling softly as you pull at it as he whines, saying how mean you are. "Yeah, I'm sooo mean," you replied mockingly. What can you say? He was adorable when he looked at you with those puppy eyes of his.
When you two finally get into a relationship, you are kinder to him, but you never stopped teasing him.
"What are you crying for? We've barely started."
"Dawnlight... Pleaseeeee.."
Tears streamed down his face as you tugged at the nipple clamps on his chest. His hands were tied behind his back, not allowing him to relieve himself when his dick throbbed beneath his trousers, or even lay a finger on your soft skin, even as you wore nothing in front of him, your legs spread, allowing him the lewd sight of your pussy glistening under the dim light of the bedside lamp.
"What's wrong, puppy?" you continued to act coy, your fingers sliding down to circle your clit.
"Dawnlight please- please stop teasing me..."
With a smile, you relented, "Fine then. Come here."
You beckoned him with your finger, wet with your arousal. He gulped, crawling toward you and settling himself in between your legs; he slowly leaned in, and when you slid your fingers between his white locks, scratching his scalp just the way he liked. He moaned, his eyes rolled back, then he delved into your pussy. Licking, sucking, lapping at everything his wet tongue could reach, finally finding release from the suffering your put him through.
But no matter how much you tease him, you're still his dawnlight, and he's still your puppy.
you hear music coming from the living room one afternoon, only to find out mydei has...unexpected taste in music.
mydei x f!reader, modern au!, established relationship, fluff, mydei is a momma's boy
currently listening to "valerie live at bbc"
---
You wake up from your afternoon nap to the sound of music and the high pitched sound of someone trying to tune a guitar. The clock on your phone shows 2:03pm.
You slowly step out of the bedroom and are greeted by the pleasant sight of Mydei tuning his guitar on the floor while a song plays on his mother's old record player.
"Amy Winehouse..?" You ask slowly. Mydei nods, "Just felt in the mood. Sorry if I woke you up."
"I didn't know you liked jazz. Or any kind of music that wasn't rock for that matter." You teased, sitting down criss-cross beside him on the floor.
Mydei gives you an unimpressed look, before turning his attention back to the guitar on his lap, "Mum used to play all sorts of music. She especially liked jazz."
"Well, she had good taste." You said softly, trying not to break the gentle atmosphere surrounding the two of you.
Whenever Mydei spoke of his late mother, his features softened in a way that made him look less like a scary, tatted-up 23 year old, and more like a little boy. It made you fall in love with how genuine his is.
"When she passed, I took her vinyl collection, along with the record player. It's comforting to know that I have them, and not my dad. After all, it's thanks to her that I started playing guitar in the first place."
You rest your hand on his leg, softly rubbing the skin of his knee as his hand reaches to lace your fingers together.
"Did you sleep well?" He changed the subject.
"Would've been better if someone was there, but it was alright, I guess."
He sets the guitar to the side before turning to you again and patting his lap for you to sit on.
"What?" You asked as he pat his lap once more.
"I wanna teach you something." Was all he gave you.
After you accommodated yourself in his lap, he reached for his guitar once more, placing it over your legs and gently guiding your hand to the rosewood fretboard.
He takes your non-dominant hand and places it into a simple shape over the strings. Your first finger on the first fret of the second string from the bottom, and your second finger on the second fret of the second string from the top.
"This, is called an A minor 7th chord." His voices whispers gently over your shoulder.
"What song are you teaching me, Dei?" You asked to which he stayed quiet..
Without answering, he moves your hands into a slightly more complicated shape, "This is a G chord."
He grabs your dominant hand and places it over the pick-guard, putting your thumb on the second string from the top and moving your fingers back to Am7. Your thumb gently glides over the strings as you strum the first chord.
After some time of playing the two notes back and forth, you realized,
"Hey, this sounds kinda familiar, Dei.." You teased, "I think I know this song~"
He looked away momentarily, "If you know it then why don't you sing it for me?" He teased back.
Getting comfy in his lap, you rest your head against his shoulder, and he continues guiding your hands through the song.
"You're everything I want but I can't deal with all your lovers. You're saying I'm the one but it's your actions that speak louder."
"Giving me love when you are down and need another, I've got to get away and let you go, I've got to get over."
When you get to the chorus, he takes over on the guitar, since you don't know the following chords.
"But I love you so."
"I love. you. so." You poke his chest in time with the words, and he lets out a chuckle.
"I love you so, I love you so."
He stops playing and you look up to see his face, "Someone's feeling nostalgic today."
"T-That's not it. It's just-" The tips of his ears turn red to match his tattoos..
"Just what? You just randomly remembered the song that played in the cafe during our first date?"
"There's no 'nostalgia' behind it." He made air-quotes on nostalgia, as he is taken back to that awful day.
Your first date took place in a humble cafe that was close to campus, called Lucid Hour. He had been a nervous wreck, and although you were too, you did a better job at hiding it.
When one of the baristas, and also a familiar face, Phainon, noticed exactly who was sitting in one of the tables, he came over and started teasing the two of you,
"Aww, you guys finally did it! I'm so proud, I feel kind of like a parent right now!"
"You do know I'm older than you, Phainon." Mydei had grumbled.
"Haha, I'm well aware, Mydeimos. Oh, I know just the thing to make this better!" Phainon ran off to the back of the store, and soon after the background music of the cafe had changed.
"The Walters..? Who knew Phainon had decent music taste.." You spoke your thoughts out loud.
"You'd think it would match his taste in clothes, complete garbage." He joked
"Maybe, he's just trying to help the atmosphere.."
"Maybe, he's should quit paying attention to us and making things awkward instead of doing his job." He said, the tips of his ears turning red, almost the same shade as his intricate tattoos.
Back in the present, your laugh pleasantly fills his ears, much better than any music, "Haha, Admit it, Dei! You're a softie!"
"... Maybe I am." His leans down to kiss the crown of your head, "but only for you."
I keep thinking about this one edit I have saved and... Homewrecker Phainon...who's also your childhood friend...
(I couldn't find the original link to the edit to save my life so I just put the edit at the end of the post)
Imagine having a boyfriend and being in a loving relationship— the man actually treats you decently; carrying you on decent dates, expressing love and affection in many forms and giving you absolutely no reason to dislike him.
Then enter Phainon who's actually been pining for you from afar for a long time. Ever since you both were kids, actually. He's always held deep feelings for you, getting physical pains everytime someone labelled the both of you as simply 'great friends'. Oh how Phainon wanted to change that status, only to chicken out at the prospect of actually confessing.
You're just sooo out of his league, it's a miracle that a pretty girl like you doesn't have a— wait, now you're taken??? Phainon simultaneously can't believe it and is mentally kicking himself hard. Why'd he wait so long?? Did he really think that you'd remain single until he actually worked up the courage to confess? (technically yes) Of course you have your life to live, a love life to live. Of course you'd get a boyfriend at some point.
But what kills Phainon is that it isn't him.
He should be the one by your side, holding your hand, kissing your cheek, seeing you off to your classes. It should've been him! —okay, he might be contradicting the earlier statement of him being out of your league by implying he's worthier than whoever you're currently with. But it's just objectively true, if Phainon's out of your league then that...guy is basically bottom pickings!
Then again, this is just what he thinks to be factual. But Phainon refuses to hear any other potential views of the situation anyways so to him, it's the unrivaled truth.
This now perceived image that he's simply the best option for you after years of thinking he wasn't good enough manifests into a bitter hatred for the nobody that you call your...'boyfriend'. The idea that this random thinks he's entitled to your time and affection and love makes Phainon nauseous. So he makes it a point to deprive your partner of it to the best of his abilities.
Suddenly becoming a very prominent figure in your life as Phainon strives to take up every aspect of it— accompanying you to classes before your boyfriend can make it, hanging out with you for prolonged periods of time especially when he knows you had something planned with your partner, using his title as your childhood friend- the one who's known you the longest as an excuse for you to prioritize him over anyone else.
Phainon doesn't hesitate to guilt you too albeit subtly, you'd really prefer to go on a date with someone you knew for six months as opposed to spending the evening with the man who knew you ever since you were in elementary? You know he really enjoys your company, you two always spend the days like this together. It'd make him so sad if you just... Left him in the dust to run off with another man.
And then he'd try to plant seeds of doubt in your mind about your partner. Is he really the perfect person you envision? Or are you just blinded by infatuation? What about those times he came home late, passing it off as a long work day. Was it really about work? And the time he refused to buy you a plushie you'd been eyeing, saying something about 'staying within budget'. A real man would buy things for his girlfriend no matter what his budget is! And it just so happens that Phainon is exactly that kind of man.
Don't you see, [Name]? He's just the better option by a long shot. He'd never cheat on you— and speaking of which, take a look at these photos he found of your partner with another girl...
"白 厄 ✶ PHAINON," ◦ ₊ㅤ ﹙ phainon needs to ask you out ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა artist credits: @/kiyoshue on insta reblog / like 2 support ⃘໋ׅ♡ 𝑤.𝑐: 1.0k ⁀ ˳ ⟡
♡⏝ ⸝⸝ 𝓦ARNINGS ˖ ❝ sfw fluff slight crack she/her pronouns mydei & castorice cameo reader is quiet introvert!reader extrovert!phainon modern au reader & phainon are in uni phainon is a yearner college setting in 2026 tooth rotting fluff set in the city amphoreus 2nd person perspective ❞
── #⃝ MINA'S NOTES ( 💬 ) :p send phainon asks if you see this masterlist <3
PHAINON was in a sticky situation. Literally. His hand was stuck to your shoulder.
He had invited you to the arts & crafts club this midterm week to "reduce stress" and have fun for one lunch, Who's he kidding? He wanted to glue a bunch of beads to a paper and ask you out in a cutesy, k-drama-like confession scene. He'd seen you watch kimi ni todoke and true beauty.
Yet, somehow, he had spilled the white sticky glue, and in a messy attempt to quickly clean it up and not accidentally reveal his poster. His hand had only lightly pushed at your shoulder to guide you away, only to end up stuck. Embarrassed, and sitting there all guilty next to you, while the fine arts professor was getting rubbing alcohol to not ruin your jacket.
"Heh… I guess we're in a sticky situation, right?" He smiled over at you, joking to overcompensate.
You glanced over at him with nonchalance he wished he could gather. Seeing you tilt your head curiously, he pursed his lips, smile faltering and making him swallow. "I guess so, but it's not that strong of a glue, so we should be pretty fine," you nodded to him and looked back over at your phone. both your hands occupied playing a gacha game.
He glanced away from you, staring off into some corner and scrunched up in face from cringing, biting into his fist, before smiling again and whipping his head back to you. How dare you be THIS cool? Yeah sure, he's popular and rich, but you? You've hung around castorice a few times but you have your own little group of friends, he's seen you on instagram before in group photos, always looking so cool and chic.
He sighed, before widening his eyes when he saw the game you were playing on your phone. Taking a double look at your face before leaning over and smiling at you again, resembling a puppy.
"Zenless? You play ZZZ?" He beamed.
Your eyes finally met him, pupils slightly widening, your hand even raising to take out your earbuds. "Oh, yeah. I play it in my free time, do you?" You pressed a small polite smile, while he was ecstatic from the small connection.
"Of course I dooooo," he hummed, before pointing to the screen and staring ahead at your pretty hands. "You know, you should probably use Jane with Seth, they're basically built to be on the same team," he smiled, before growing flustered at his own words and swallowing shyly. "Like you and I are meant to be together," he finished inside his head.
He watched you nod, before actually editing your team comp to switch out miyabi (why did you even have miyabi there?) with seth.
His joy didn't last for long though, as the professor had soon returned with the alcohol wiped and carefully freed Phainon's hand from your jacket, making sure to not ruin the fabric or hurt his hand. He was trying not to pout when you quickly packed up your bag, waved him goodbye and ran off to your next lecture.
Mydei was sipping on the pearl milk tea that Castorice was letting him try, her hands holding it while he took a quick few sips and nodded with a shrug. "It's alright, I don't really like the balls though, they're chewy—" he was mumbling, before raising his brows and looking towards the entrance of the lecture hall. Phainon whined before running up the steps and hugging Mydei, making the make lash out and try to shove him off. "Kremnoan's don't hug! We don't!" he was grumbling.
Phainon was too busy, whining and rambling on to his friends. "It's Y/NNNNNN… I talked to her today and I wanted to confess but I messed it all up and she probably hates me!" he pouted, before getting off of Mydei and stepping over to hug Castorice. She squeaked surprised, before just sitting there awkwardly. "See! No one wants your hugs, man!" Mydei was grumbling.
"I messed up.. she probably hates me and thinks that Miyabi works better with Jane than Seth and—"
"hi," your voice felt like the final nail in his coffin. He didn't even turn to face you, his face turning a deep red, making his blue hair seem suddenly so light. Castorice looked back up over at him and his shoulder, before gently taking his hands off of her shoulders, her cold touch making him shiver. "Aeons, you have such cold hands.." he muttered before turning quickly and freezing when meeting your calm gaze.
"You dropped your ring in my bag," you smiled politely, offering your hand out.
Phainon hesitated, before nodding and smiling, laughing nervously and loudly in the suddenly quiet lecture hall. "O-oh.. yeah, thanks," he swallowed before pursing his lips and hesitating, waving his hands around frantically. "S-so about what I was saying, j-just ignore—"
"I think you're really cute," you cut in, showing a genuine smile, before taking out your phone and opening to his Instagram page.
He felt like his heart exploded, before he buried his face into his hands, screaming hoarsely before crouching to his knees and looking at you with love hearts in his eyes. "Ohmygodohmygod—"
You let out the sweetest laugh, crouching down to his level and grinning now. He was whining dremily, before reaching out his arm for Mydei, begging him to pinch him so that he could wake up if this was a dream. "I've literally had the fattest crush on you for months, you're so cool and pretty and sweet," he rambled on before reaching over and cupping your face, hesitating and whispering. "Sorry, can I kiss you?"
You actually broke your expression, smile faltering and nose tingling. He could see your pupils dialte, as you grew flustered for the first time. "R-right now?"
"sorry, you're right, not now," he quickly shook his head before nodding to you and stepping back.
"I'm sorry, I love you. Is that too soon? Do you wanna marry—" Mydei punched him.
Day dreaming about girl loser reader who also cosplays and phainon watching the animes she cosplays from to impress her and most probably goons to her cosplays as well and when he starts basically larping also being a cosplayer and liking the media she likes he starts getting close to her as well to the point she sends her cosplay photos to him first 😭😭 i even think girl loser reader would try to seduce poor phainon cosplaying characters with skimpy outfits just to get his attention as well he’s probably the first guy she ever even talked to as well since shes been so busy with her fictional boyfriends ><
i think i answered/made a similar post like this...? geek/loser girl (y/n) x normal guy phainon i mean but yes, yes larper phainon i loveee ^^
he got your social media handles from a friend of a friend last semester, and all throughout the semester break he's been diligently watching and liking your every post and story from a burner account. he doesn't get it at first, you look so gorgeous no matter what you are, but the outfit itself is very... peculiar? you go from a maid outfit one day and then a full-body suit the next. then you post yourself in public gatherings with people taking pictures with you in costume, and fighting back through the visceral jealousy he felt, he decided to do his own research. he wants that too - he wants to take pictures with you all dressed up!
oh. cosplay, huh? that's what you do? you dress up as characters from anime and video games? really interesting. he loves learning more about you and what you like :) so he spends the remaining semester break watching the shows you've listed as your 'top faves'. he doesn't actually watch them, all he does is skip through the movie/episodes and focus on the screentime of characters he's seen you cosplay as, all while imagining you acting them out in real life. you'd look so good, too... >< he's blushing just thinking about it! he changes his profile pictures on his main accounts to a character that's famously shipped with the character you have on your own account, and starts making public notes pretending he's excited about upcoming releases with that franchise. he's still not mutual with you, just simply acclimating his general followers to a new era of his.
when classes resume and he sees you in person again, he looks around for pins and keychains decorating your bag and points it out in pretend shock. woah, you actually watch/play this media too? cool, cool :)) he thought he was the only one! his friends aren't really into this sort of stuff, his name's phainon -- so what's your name? he'd love to talk about it with you! so rare to find diehard fans like you, and when you give him your username (that he pretends to only now see), he points out the cosplays on your story highlights. wow, you just got cooler in his eyes! you do cosplay too? he's actually been thinking of getting into cosplay lately, since you're experienced in this, maybe you don't mind helping him out?
you're dumbfounded and slightly aroused. eek, isn't this guy phainon...? the one everyone's always talking about? that phainon?? this can't be real... no way this hunk of a man is talking to a loser otaku like you >< but wait, since he said he's also a fan, doesn't that make him a loser otaku too? >< huh? oh, sure...! you don't mind helping him out with cosplay! he can just message you whenever! :))))
phainon can never replace your #1 fictional boyfriend. he really can't because 2D will always be better than 3D, but you can't sit around and lie to yourself that seeing his stories of him cosplaying as your said #1 fictional boyfriend isn't catching your attention. it's a crazy coincidence! you're too shy to message him first, but you make sure to leave a heart react >< from one cosplayer to another!
besides, you're not delusional enough to think you have a chance with him. what he's probably seeking from you is a genuine, geek-to-geek friendship where one-sided feelings don't develop. you'd hate to let him down... but wait, why is he messaging you about a cosplan, asking you to cosduo as a couple from a popular series !?
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