#outcast!reader

You would have been lying to yourself if you said it didn't do something to you watching him practise. He may have been your best friend, but there was something in the fluttering of your stomach that you were pretty sure wasn't normal for 'just friends'. Nor was the assured smirk he gave you whenever he removed his mask, or the way his handwould linger on your lower back whenver he helped you get your stance just right...

Which is why him accepting a military rules bout with Wednesday had been such a surprise to everyone. And why his subsequent stumble had the entire room holding their breath. You included. 

It happened so fast no one had time to process it.

One moment, Ajax was countering Wednesday’s attack with a clean parry, the next his foot caught on the edge of the mat. He pitched forward, completely off balance. Wednesday, of course, didn’t hesitate. Her foil, untipped, slid past his guard and snagged across his forehead, catching the line of his beanie, in one clean line. 

He had disappeared after that. You assumed he’d gone straight to the infirmary, you yourself rushing straight out after practise to find him only, none of the school nurses had even heard of the incident – let alone treated Ajax.

Which left only one explanation.

The idiot had tried to patch himself up himself.

That was how you found yourself outside his dorm room, knuckles tapping lightly against the old wood.

“Ajax?” you called, leaning closer. For a moment, there was silence. Then, a muffled thud – followed by a frantic sort of fumbling.

Your brows knit. “I wanted to check in on that cut, I—”

The door gave easily under your hand as you pushed it open.

“Wait! Don’t—!”

Too late.

You had already peeked your head around the door by the time he shouted.

He had already screwed his eyes shut in frustration, huffing an irritated sigh to himself as his uncovered snakes writhed around his face like a cruel halo.

You glanced around for a second, a roll of gauze haphazardly unraveled in his lap, one chunk of it already soaking up some of the blood from his forehead, his sakes curling restlessly. 

You could only laugh as you stepped inside fully and closed the door behind you. “Nice hair.”

His eyes shot open, lips parting in shock as you stood watching him, offering him only a smug smile.

“Y-you’re not… my—” he stumbled over the word, hands fluttering uselessly before he gave up and just pointed to his head, to the snakes that seemed just as startled as he was.

You arched a brow, smirking. “No, Ajax. I’m not stone.”

He blinked at you, disbelieving. His snakes twitched like they weren’t sure whether to retreat or reach for you. “H-how?” he managed, still staring like you were some impossible trick. 

“Celestial blood,” you shrugged, making your way over to him as he collapsed down onto his bed. “I’m not completely immune, but I can hold off the effects for far longer than others.”

“Hold them off?” he frowned as you grasped his jaw gently, turning his head to make peeling back the gauze easier

“I mean, if we had an hour-long staring contest, I’d probably start to feel a little stiffer,” you teased, lips twitching into a small smile, “but it would take hours for me to eventually freeze up.”

“That’s… insane,” Ajax whispered, eyes flicking between yours in awe. His snakes leaned toward you curiously. 

“You sound almost disappointed.”

He shook his head far too enthusiastically, wincing at the slight pain. “No, quite the opposite. How come you never told me?” 

You started to brush some of the hair away from his forehead, minding his snakes as you did so, and trying to ignore the way he shivered slightly as you stroked them. “I guess I never thought about it.” 

He scoffed, “We have been best friends since second year, and you didn’t think to tell me that I could take my hat off around you?” 

“Well, when you put it like that, it makes me sound like the arsehole,” you scoffed, using a bit of fresh gauze to blot at the still beading cut. “I guess I just presumed you were just more comfortable with one on.”

He shrugged gently. “I suppose it’s more normal than not.” He swallowed thickly as you dropped the gauze to his bedside table. “I really am fine, you know. You don’t have to waste energy on this.” 

You snorted a laugh, your fingers pressing gently to the split skin, smiling apologetically when Ajax winced. “I might not be a doctor, but I am pretty sure that blood belongs on the inside.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, lips pressing together as you concentrated on the skin beneath your fingertips, feeling it knit together slowly.each cell closing on one another, until there was no trace of the cut at all. 

“There, all fixed up.” You stepped back slightly with a tired smile. 

“Thank you,” he spoke softly, fingers brushing over the spot. “You’re an angel, I swear.”

“Not an angel. Technically,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips as you brushed a few lingering strands from his forehead. There was no reason to, you knew that, but the last thing you wanted to do was step away. He shuddered again, and you weren’t sure if it was from your touch or the phantom ache of the cut.

“Close enough,” he huffed a laugh. “You really didn’t have to, you know.”

“And let it get infected?” You sank into his desk chair, spinning idly as he cleared away the gauze and empty packets. “Why didn’t you go to the infirmary?”

He released a dry laugh, shaking his head. “And stone the nurses whenever they tried to look at it? No thanks, today has been humiliating enough.”

"Class wasn't that bad," you offered, pushing down a smile when he looked at you as if to say yeah, right. You tilted your head, studying him. “Why did you trip? It isn't like you.”

Ajax froze, his shoulders tensing mid-movement. For a moment, he didn’t answer, just busied himself with shoving the bloody gauze into the trash.

“Ajax?” you pressed, gentler this time.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “…I was distracted.”

Your brow furrowed, Ajax was nothing but focused when fencing. He had told you on several occasions before that it was one of the few times his brain really switched off. “Distracted? By what?”

His snakes stirred restlessly, his face flushing a deep pink, and he refused to meet your eyes. “Doesn’t matter.”

You leaned forward slightly in the chair, curiosity piqued. “Doesn’t matter, or you don’t want to tell me?”

Finally, he risked a glance at you, his eyes lingering, holding something that wasn't there before. His voice was quieter now, almost hesitant, “Let’s just say… I wasn’t watching my opponent as closely as I should have been.”

There was a beat of silence before it clicked, and warmth crept up your neck. The realization made your heart stutter, and your hands twitched nervously in your lap. “…You were watching me?”

Ajax groaned, dragging his hands over his face. “God, why did I say anything?”

You couldn’t help it – you laughed, surprised, your heart thrumming a little too fast. “That’s… kind of sweet, actually.”

He peeked at you through his fingers, eyes wide, hopeful. “You think so?”

Your smile softened. “Yeah. Sweet. Stupid – but sweet.”

His snakes perked up at that, swaying with a kind of giddy energy, and Ajax himself looked like he wasn’t sure whether to grin or hide under his blanket.

“Why were you watching me?” you pressed, the whole situation making you feel positively giddy. 

“Don’t make me say any more,” he warned lightly, busying himself again with tidying up aimlessly, stooping to scoop an abandoned hoodie from the floor. 

“You’ve already come this far, indulge me,” you grinned, watching as he stopped, glancing at you with false annoyance, one brow raised. 

Finally he huffed, tossing his hoodie across the end of his bed. “Because I wanted to see if you were watching.” 

“Ajax Petropolus,” you half scolded, although there was no malice in it, “Did you accept a military bout to try and impress me?”

His groan as he fell back onto his mattress was confirmation enough. He slung an arm over his face, burying himself in the crook of his elbow. 

“So what if I did,” he huffed, his voice quieting to barely more than a murmur, “It didn’t work anyway.” 

You bit your lip, trying to rein in the giddiness that threatened to bubble out, glad for a moment that he wasn’t paying attention to you.

You rose quietly, tiptoeing over to his side. Your pulse raced, fingers tingling with nervous excitement as you leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead.

His arm pulled back in shock, eyes widening as his snakes perked toward you all at once.

“Well,” you murmured, your voice now soft, “I wouldn’t say it was a total failure…” you sank onto the edge of his mattress, holding back a laugh. 

Ajax blinked at you, completely frozen, lips parting a few times as if trying to force words out. Finally, he exhaled shakily, pressing himself up on his palms, his voice low and hesitant. “So… you wouldn’t mind if I kissed you right now?”

Your stomach did a little somersault at the question, and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, light and nervous. “I don’t think I’d mind at all,” you admitted, heart hammering in your chest.

His eyes softened, and he leaned in slowly, as if savoring the moment, giving you just enough time to pull closer. When your lips finally met, it was gentle at first, tentative and sweet.

Your hand found its way to his shoulder, trailing up until your fingers found the nape of his neck, fingers curling in the soft hair below his snakes and tugging him slightly closer, and his arm wrapped around you instinctively, fingers brushing against your waist. The butterflies in your chest forcing shallower breaths as you pulled back just enough to look at him.

“See?” you whispered, grinning despite the heat in your cheeks. “Not a total failure.”

Ajax let out a soft laugh, pressing his forehead to yours, his snakes instinctively curling to brush the sides of your cheeks. “Definitely not.”

Bonus:

"Exactly how long have you been waiting for me to make a move?" Ajax broke the comfortable silence that had settled between you. You were sat comfortably behind him on his bed, helping to gently detangle some of the hair from his snakes.

"I'd say about a year, at least."

"I'm really slow, aren't I?" he cringed, pulling a laugh from your lips.

"I wouldn't have you any other way."

You never knew Larissa Weems naked in your bed was the one thing you needed to be happy before. But now it was the only thing you wanted to see for the rest of your life.

Larissa wasn't shy as you thought she'd be. When you arrived at the door, you bearly had time to open and enter before she was pulling you to your bed. Your brain was halfway ready to stop with her hands fisting on your top as if it was an insult you still had it on.

She kissed you needly, with so much pent-up frustration and aggressiveness you thought your lips would go bloody.

"Wait, let me" you interrupted her desperately trying to remove her button-up while kissing you.

She let you go with an impatient huff, your hands on top of hers and putting them away. She was breathtaking like that, with kiss-swollen lips and a blush going from her neck to her chest, disappearing behind white silk.

"I believe I said I would make you scream" you gave her a lazy side grin and arched brow, her demanding demeanour wetting your underwear.

You slowly backed her to the bed, pinning her hands beside her head. You straddled her and lowered yourself leisurely to whisper in her ear:

"Be a good girl, and let me show you"

A soft whimper escaped her mouth and you felt smug from having that effect on her. You gave her a long, dragged kiss, sucking her tongue into your mouth; her hands were white-knuckled fists when you parted.

"Don't touch me for now. I want you to concentrate that pretty head of yours only on feeling me" you instructed and she gave a curt nod, her chest heaving up and down.

You took your time unbuttoning her pyjama top, kissing every inch of exposed skin that came. Her cute tummy was a pretty creamy white you would surely have compromising dreams about, its movements betraying her want when she arched. Her bottoms were the matching set to her rich-girl pyjamas and sinfully short. Oh, you wanted to ravish her.

She didn't wear a bra, and while you dragged her shorts down her legs you left pretty love marks on her breasts. She seemed to like your tongue circling her nipple, and her hand grabbed your shoulder when you bit it lightly.

Her little whimpers and gasps were doing something to your ego and not helping at all the need you felt between your legs. When you made your way down her body, leaving kisses and bruises in your wake, you purposefully avoided going anywhere near where she wanted you to. Her mile-long legs were just as white and lovely as the rest of her, but you knew that already; the interesting thing was that its muscles were tight, her thighs tense in expectation.

You kissed her from the knee up, switching legs when your nose grazed her soaked panties.

"Fuck, please…" she whispered, her hands fisted the sheets near her hips, her arched body high enough for a pillow to fit between her and the bed "Stop torturing me" the bob of her throat sent chills through you, and you had to bite her thigh to relieve at least a bit of the want tightening your sex.

"If you ask nicely I just might" your voice is huskier than you expected, and her lust-filled gaze, when she looked at you, was a chokehold.

"Do as you're told" she growled, blown pupils similar to a wild animal.

Jesus, that girl would be the death of you. Without breaking eye contact, you slipped off her panties and lowered your face to her aching core. She smelled like heaven, she had to know paradise was between her legs.

You licked from her entrance to her clit with just the tip of your tongue, she left a high-pitched, contained scream fall from her lips, and that would simply not do.

"C'mon, baby girl, the whole point of this exercise is for you to be as loud as you want. Don't keep your screams from me, it would break my heart"

Her next sound was a scream, you had buried your face in her, sticking your tongue into her sex and sucking her. You held her hips tightly, her legs were tight around your head and you could feel her foot in the middle of your back.

She tasted divine. You could do this forever and never be satisfied. Hunger and lust could keep you going, who needed to eat or sleep? She was panting, moaning, screaming and squirming in the bed. Her hand came to your hair and pulled with so much force that it stung. You loved it.

Her sounds were rapidly turning strangled, needy and loud. When you brought a hand to rub against her clit while you ate her desperately, her cry was so loud you could swear something fell over in the other room. Her desperation was maddening, and when you felt her tense even more around you, her entrance clenching around your tongue, you doubled the effort, sucking and licking her with all you had until you heard your name on her lips in a final shout. She came furiously. Like everything she did, it was incredible. You drank all you could of her, committing the taste to memory, filing it away for later solo sessions.

She was perfect; in every sense of the word. You left her oversensitive pussy and looked at her.

Everything about her was regal. From her chest slowly stopping its rise and fall to her satisfied, sleepy smile gracing her face. She was covered in red marks that soon enough would turn green and blue, branding her yours if she wanted to.

You raised yourself and crawled back to her, planting a slow, needy kiss on her lips. You wanted her forever. Not only here, in your bed in the middle of the night. You wanted her tomorrow morning, waking up dishevelled and bashful, blushing while you recounted all the pretty noises she made the night before. You wanted her at lunch, sitting by your side pocking fun at the jocks trying to pick up girls to the Rave'N. You wanted her after class to walk around in the woods, to have picnics by the lake, to laugh and make out away from the prying eyes - and sometimes near them just to spice things up. You wanted her forever, quite foolishly so.

"What are you thinking?" she rested her chin on your shoulder, her leg fitting between yours while her hand went to your back to bring you closer.

"That I think I heard something fall in the next room before you screamed my name" you smiled cheekily. You would ask her in the morning. If you acted too rashly maybe she would get scared.

She gave you a mirthful laugh that made something in your chest tighten and light up on fire.

"I think I should return the favour" her thigh pressed against your pyjamas. Fuck, you were still clothed.

No, Y/N had to have fangs, longer and sharper than any vampire’s, naturally long nails that should have counted as talons, and ginormous black wings that shrouded her body. Y/N was, in her eyes, a human bird. 

From the moment she stepped foot onto campus all eyes were on her. At that young of an age she was scared, she scared herself and everyone else, but as she grew up she turned that frightened little girl into a power to be reckoned with. As everyone at school watched her grow into this confident young lady, they also became less scared of her. She had her times where she’d lose her temper and lash out, her magic uncontrollable as she’d stomp away and wreck everything in her path, but they knew she was just like them in that sense. Unable to control how they felt because there was not a single person in the world that understood what it was like to be an Outcast. 

By the time Y/N was 16 she had learned that it was just better for her to stay on campus at all times than to go into town and try to be normal with everyone else. The Normies may be able to hide their hatred for the Outcasts at least somewhat decently with the others, but with Y/N she could always see the look of disgust on their faces from a mile away. Every time she’d try to go into town with a few people from school she was always picked on, bullied, and it wasn’t even just the Normies who did it. She’d be invited out as a joke several times, it wasn’t until the third time she was made fun of and abandoned in town that she realized no one would ever truly except her for what she was. 

Outreach day was approaching and Y/N was dreading going, but Principal Weems was making Y/N volunteer this year by having her paint a mural of Nevermore and the town of Jericho together in harmony. The thought made Y/N gag. Why would she want to celebrate such a stupid day that obviously had no meaning to anyone in the long run?

If this wasn’t mandatory then Y/N wouldn’t be going and setting herself up for embarrassment. Rude comments ran wild in her head as she mocked what some people in town were going to say as she showed up to celebration. 

She packed up her painting materials in a duffel bag and then headed to the Quad, where all the other students would be getting their assignments. When she walked into the Quad everyone had already begun hoarding together in their cliques, so Y/N just stood next to the wall and waited till they were all dismissed. One thing about having these giant wings was that she couldn’t ride on the bus with everyone else, instead she was going to have to fly herself down the town. 

Y/N’s eyes scanned the crowd of students, watching as they opened their assignment letters. Some students were happy but others seemed upset about what they got. One of those people was Xavier, someone that Y/N admired from a far but would never confront face-to-face. He must’ve been upset about what he got, the same going for his friend Ajax.

Feeling as though she had intruded on people’s private conversations, Y/N picked up her duffel bag and headed towards the front of the school. Little did she know that as soon as she walked away from the bustling students who were rushing towards the busses, Xavier had looked up from his assignment card and watched as the black winged beauty turned away and walked away. 

Xavier didn’t see Y/N again until everyone was in the town square to listen to Principal Weems and Mayor Walker go on about how important the day was and how they created a new statue in honor of the town embracing the Outcasts. 

It was complete bullshit and everyone knew it. Y/N must’ve gotten bored listening to their speech, because once they were all dismissed to go to their jobs for the day, the Faye was no where in sight. Xavier sighed as he trudged over to the Weathervane for his assignment. Working in the same café as Tyler, his tormenter, was not how he wanted to spend the day. 

When he walked into the café his eyes landed directly on the winged beauty. She stood in the corner awkwardly looking down at her phone as she waited for her order name to be called. Once she heard her name called out she went to grab her drink quickly and bolt from the small building. Y/N didn’t even look up as she brushed past Xavier and out into the open. 

The taller boy watched as she walked with her head low, going to the designated area for the portrait she was to draw. It was the same wall that Xavier had painted on last year, on this exact day. The thought of her putting all this effort into a portrait and then possibly having it destroyed just like he had done to him, angered him more than it should have. Taking in a deep breathe he walked over to Tyler, who also didn’t looked too amused that he was in this situation as well.  

An hour, maybe two at most had gone by before he saw what Y/N’s painting looked like. It was amazing, to say the least. The wall Y/N was using as a canvas was a mirror image of the town on that exact day. Both the town and it’s people joining together with the students of Nevermore in celebration of Outreach Day. The thing that pulled it all together? The heavily detailed painting of Joseph Crackstone in the center of the town. It was perfect for that day, and exactly what Principal Weems wanted out of the feather winged girl. 

As Y/N stood a few feet away from her painting, admiring it and criticizing it, she could hear the words that the towns folk were saying. 

“What a freak.” Some mumbled. 

“Who let the little birdy out of her cage?” Some would tease menacingly. 

“If there were a contest for being the biggest freak of all the freaks, she’d for sure win.” 

One would think that on a day like today, these small minded people would put their snide comments to the side and at least pretend to be decent, but no, in fact they were even worse. Usually she could handle those harsh words, but for some reason today was just the day for her to snap.

Bawling her fists she began to pack up her painting supplies, anger consuming her as she thought about all the horrible curses and spells she could use on these lesser people. Y/N was so overwhelmed with anger that she began to shake which caused her to drop some spay paint. 

Before she could reach over and grab some asshole had to kick it so hard that the can busted open, spraying Y/N and ruining the bottom half of her painting. With tears blurring her vision and anger blurring her judgment, she stood up quickly, her hands glowing a bright green as she threw the Normie against the wall opposite of her. She growled lowly, her eyes glowing the same green as she began to close off the person’s airway with her magic. If it weren’t Xavier to snap her out of her trance, Y/N for sure would have murdered the man. 

Y/N’s eyes stopped glowing, along with her hands, her gaze moving from the man she was choking to Xavier who was standing in front of her with a very concerned look. For a split second Y/N’s eyes looked at the man, her growl scary enough to send him hurling around the corner and down the sidewalk. 

Without a word she took a step away from Xavier and turned back to her supplies. She through the busted can into her bag, zipped it up, and then tried to walk away. As she was a few steps away from the tall blonde, he reached out and gently grabbed her wrist. Y/N stopped and turned to look at the boy, confusion grazing across her face. 

“What? You gonna make fun of me too?” Y/N’s words were harsh, but Xavier knew that she was still angry. 

Letting go of her wrist he lets out a soft sigh, “I was going to ask if you were okay.” He said looking at her and watching her expressions. 

Y/N looked taken back at his question, as if no one had ever asked her that before. “I’m fine,” Y/N huffed. She was clearly lying, but why on Earth would she open up to someone she barely knew, so easily? Xavier’s look on his face was basically saying, ‘really?’ He knew she was lying and was hoping she would just talk to him a little bit, even if this was their first time really talking. 

Letting out a huff of frustration, Y/N let her walls fall down as she looked away from the boy. “Fine, no, I’m not okay. I’m pissed.” She paused and waited for a response but only got a nod telling her to continue. “This is all just so stupid, it bullshit. No one cares about today, they just care about the money they get from this stupid day.” Y/N rolled her eyes as she looked up at Xavier. “No one actually cares, they never will. We will always be the freaks and outcasts to them, they will never see us as equals.” 

Xavier could practically see the steam rolling off her skin, seeing how angry she still was. He knew there was nothing he could say that would make her feel better, so instead he gently took her duffel bag from her and offered to take her to the Weathervane.  It took a moment for  Y/N to consider the offer, thinking that this was just going to be another joke, but once she realized that Xavier meant no harm she agreed and the two began the short walk to the coffee shop. 

It was a good thing that the café was slow that day, or else Y/N and Xavier probably wouldn’t have been able to talk as much as they wanted to. The other great thing about it being slow was the fact that wasn’t a lot of people around to gawk at Y/N and make rude remarks about her looks. The only other person in the building was Tyler, but he could care less what the Nevermore students were doing, especially Xavier. 

Xavier and Y/N sat at a booth close to the counter, both of them feeling the tension as they squeezed into their seats. Well, Y/N squeezed into her seat because of her wings, Xavier was fine. 

It was quiet at first, the two just looking around and avoiding each other’s gaze for the first few minutes before Xavier decided to speak up. 

“Your painting looks great, by the way.” He smiled softly, hoping that she’d realize he was here to talk to her and not belittle her. “The detail in it is amazing.”

Y/N was a bit taken back by the compliment. She wasn’t used to people saying nice things to her, let along talking to her at all. “Thanks, though I’d rather see that stupid statue burn than to paint it, thanks.” Anyone who was listening to their conversation would know that she was joking, she was being serious. 

Xavier chuckled a bit and nodded in agreement, “Trust me, I know how you feel.”

Y/N snorted at his response. How could someone like him? Someone who looks normal, understand how she felt? The only odd thing about him was his father, and the face that he could make his artwork move or come to life. Xavier looked confused at Y/N’s slight harshness and watched as tried to lean back a bit in the booth, crossing her arms as she looked at the wall.

“Hate to break it to you, pretty boy, but you most definitely don’t know how I feel.” Her words were harsh, and completely true. While Xavier could have anything he wanted and grew up only being know as the son of a famous Outcast, he would never really know what it’s like to feel like Y/N. To be tormented for how he looked. It’s never a problem that he has ever had to deal with.  

Silence filled the space between them once more, both of them unsure of what to say next. Xavier studied Y/N’s face, memorizing every curve, mark, and point there was. To him, someone she barely knew, he thought she was the most beautiful and unique person on this planet. Even though he didn’t really know her all that well, his heart wanted to know more so he could get closer to her and learn to understand her. 

Y/N’s eyes unfortunately wandered over to the window where she could see the townsfolk pointing and gawking at her. The anger that had slowly started to subside started to come back stronger than before, her eyes starting to glow that vivid green color. Xavier’s eyes followed hers and once he noticed what, well who, she was staring at, he immediately when to  calm her down. Without thinking or hesitation, his hands grabbed hers softly, like she was made of the finest porcelain and he didn’t want to break her. 

“Don’t worry about them,” he said softly, his thumbs rubbing small circles into the backs of her hands. The action startled her at first, but then she found it calming. Her eyes stopped glowing, her heart went back to normal and she no longer felt like ripping out those peoples throats.

“Why do you care so much?” Y/N asked with a tilted head, “You don’t know me, so why do you care so much?” It was a genuine question she wanted the answer to, but Xavier wasn’t sure if he could really tell her why he cared.’

The boy gulped, trying to find a way to word his thoughts in a way that didn’t sound creepy or stalker like. There was a long pause before he said anything, it was when she went to pull her hands away from him that he sputtered out the truth. “I’ve always liked you, thought you were the most mesmerizing being to ever lay my eyes upon. I’ve watched you, since the moment I started going to Nevermore, I- I just didn’t know how to approach you. I was nervous.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, thinking he was joking and was put up to this as a joke. “You’re only saying that to say it, you don’t mean it.” Her eyes averted downwards towards her lap, trying desperately to focus on anything but the feeling of her hands still holding his. “No one thinks that of me, I’m a monster.”

Xavier’s gentle squeeze on her hands was enough to pull her Y/E/C eyes back up to his blue eyes. “I don’t think that.” The warry look on Y/N’s face was enough to tell him that she really had never been told that in her life, “I promise, if I truly didn’t think that, then I wouldn’t have said it in the first place.”

The shaky sigh that Y/N let out worried him. Had he gone too far? Did she find him repulsive now? Was this all too creepy?  

“I don’t think you understand how much that means to me,” When their eyes met he finally saw the tears that brimmed her waterline. Carefully, he reached up and swiped away the stray tears that managed to slip down her flushed cheeks. The soft smile that Y/N let Xavier see was something he’d remember forever. He’s the only one who’s seen her cry, who’s seen her smile, who’s been so kind and genuine to her. 

You weren’t sure what was louder – the music, the laughter, or the thump of your own pulse – but you felt suspended for a moment, caught somewhere between joy and overwhelm, breath catching as the world blurred slightly around the edges.

“You look like you need a drink.” 

Your mind snapped too again, a plastic cup appearing in your periphery. It took a moment to realise the voice, and lingering hand, belonged to Ajax. You reached for the drink with a grateful smile, nudging his shoulder with yours as a way of silent thank you, taking an opportunity to sip the steadily warming punch. 

The slightly fizzy liquid soothed your scratchy throat blissfully. “I don’t know how she does it,” you nodded vaguely towards where Enid’s head bobbed up and down in the crowd, maintaining the same energy she had when she had walked in hours before. You huffed a laugh into your cup, “I feel like I am about to collapse.” 

Ajax only laughed beside you, tilting his head to watch her for a long moment before glancing back at you. “I’m pretty sure she siphons energy from the rest of us.”

You nodded in bemused agreement, swallowing thickly. “You could’ve danced with us,” you teased, raising a brow as you turned to him again. Your gaze lingered for a moment, catching the way the warm lighting softened his jaw and made his eyes seem impossibly deeper. You took another slow sip of your drink. 

“Oh, sure,” he said, straightening with an exaggerated roll of his shoulders. “Because me flailing like a malfunctioning inflatable tube man is exactly what this dance needed.”

Your laugh bubbled with the splutter of your drink, your fist pressing to your lips to hold the liquid behind your teeth. You nudged him again, more firmly this time, the facsimile of forced irritation at his self depreciation creasing your brow. He only steadied you with a hand hovering near your back, and for a moment, you swore his smile softened. 

“Do you wanna escape?” he asked quietly, nearly lost under the thrum of bass.

You glanced toward the crowd, at the tangle of swaying bodies and the heat and noise that had long since stopped feeling fun. It took barely a second for your shoulders to drop, for that small, relieved smile to tug at your lips. You nodded.

He tipped his head toward the hallway, a silent come on, and you followed without hesitation. The music thinned as you slipped through the door, catching the bemused half-smile of Bianca as you passed, thinking nothing off the way her eyes seemed to follow you as Ajax pressed the door closed behind you both.  

The corridor was more brightly lit than the hall, but not by much, lit by small sconces that cast warm patches of light along the walls, casting small shadows off the old hanging garlands and newer paper chains, looked to be put together by some of the first years. 

“My mum asked about you again,” you broke the comfortable silence with a lopsided smile. 

“You had nothing good to report, I’m sure,” he smirked playfully. He walked with his hands in his pockets, shoulder brushing yours every few steps. In the half-light, his eyes looked almost kaleidoscopic, catching the glow of the Christmas decorations draped along the walls. That mischievous glint was even harder to look away from than usual.

You shook your head, tearing your gaze away with a soft laugh. “Oh yeah, I told her all about our late-night mocktail parties and getting stoned on school nights.”

He laughed, the sound resounding from deep in his chest as his elbow nudged yours seemingly accidentally. “I take it that is my outstanding dinner invite revoked, then?” 

“I think she loves you more than me, it would be you having to sneak me leftovers through the back door.” 

He huffed a breath through his nose, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips as he eyed the garlands dangling from the ceiling. “How is she, anyway?” 

“She’s good – more excited about me going home for break than I am, I think.” Your fingers brushed a paper snowflake taped to the wall as you passed, letting the edge catch lightly on your skin.

“You’re not looking forward to it?” 

You hesitated, shifting your hands into your sleeves for warmth. “I am, it’s just… family is a lot sometimes, you know? I often  wonder if it would be easier to stick around here.”

He slowed his steps. “Well, I’m gonna miss you over the break,” he muttered, almost too quiet for the echoing hallway. His fingers twitched at his side, brushing against yours for the briefest second before they were buried again in his suit trouser pockets. 

You covered the sudden burn in your chest with a soft scoff. “Well, of course. I’m your best friend. Everything will be boring without me around to brighten it up,” you teased.

Your eyes flicked over his Adam's apple as it bobbled with a laugh, biting your lip to suppress your grin as you watched his eyes light up again. You traced each of the small crinkles around them, committing each one to memory.

Your steps faltered slightly as you kicked your feet along the old flagstones, the quiet that settled between you comforting, and much needed with the way your ears seemed to ache from the dance. 

You glanced up with a roll of your shoulders, a poor attempt at pressing the tension from your muscles. A proposal to sneak out for a smoke hesitated on your tongue as you caught sight of it – it was cliche, yes, but the white berries caught your eye, hanging in a neat sprig, tied with a deep green bow that hung limply from the apex of the archway. “Viscum album!”

Ajax stopped, nearly tumbling into your back, brows pulling together. “What?” 

You pointed upwards, suddenly aware of the heat in your cheeks. “Mistletoe.” 

His shoulders tightened almost imperceptibly as he looked up. His hands stayed buried deep in his pockets.

“Did you know it is actually a parasitic plant?” His eyebrows raised, lips parting as if to say something, but silence followed. “It draws nutrients from the tree it grows on.” 

You didn’t think twice as you raised your hand again, twisting your wrist carefully beside your head. From your periphery, you caught the way Ajax’s lips twitched – just barely – into a smile. It was the kind he always tried to hide, the one that crept in without his permission whenever you did something that fascinated him. Your fingers moved in small, practiced gestures, and above the two of you, the plant responded. The sprig swelled, white berries budding and blooming until the mistletoe hung fuller, heavier. “That’s better,” you murmured, lowering your hand.

Ajax shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I’ve never really understood the mistletoe thing.” 

“It only became a Christmas thing in, like, the 1700s,” you mused, eyes flicking between the floating greenery and his quietly mesmerized expression. “The idea is that the berries symbolize love, or something close to it. It probably comes from an old Norse myth.”

“Yeah?” he asked, voice light but a little breathless.

“Yeah.” You let your hand fall back to your side, warmth blooming in your chest. “It’s sweet, don’t you think? Turning something otherwise so harmful into something beautiful. Like… choosing to see the good in everything.”

The silence that sat between you seemed heavier for a moment. Ajax looked up at the now-lush mistletoe, then back at you, the weight shifting between his feet again uneasily. 

“(Y/n)?” 

“Yeah?” Your stomach dropped with your head, your eyes refocusing from the lights to his face. The weight of uneasiness settled in the gaps around your lungs. There was something in the depth of his expression that had the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. “‘Jax, what—“ 

He wet his lips cautiously, “it is tradition…” 

Swallowing felt oppressive, your lips pressing together around half-formed thoughts. “You can’t be serious?” 

“I have been following you around like a lost puppy since day one, and you haven’t put it together?” His head tilted, the crease between his brow feigning mock confusion, but the uneasy flick of his eyes gave his anxiety away. You knew him too well. 

You weren’t sure why your mind wanted to fight against the prospect that the boy in front of you wanted more than linked pinky fingers and the occasional top-and-tail sleep over. Especially as the anticipation forced the contraction of your throat, a harsh swallow batting down your shaky inhale. 

The tension trapped in your chest lightened as his fingers brushed yours. You hadn’t even noticed him draw his palm from the safety of his pocket, but as it pressed to yours, warm and slightly clammy, your slackening fingers allowed his to curl between them, tightening the still unsure grip. 

Heat crawled across your chest as he stepped forward cautiously, just half a step, barely a shift. You had been close before, the fan of his breath on your cheeks hardly alien, although usually accompanied by a huff of smoke, huddled behind the greenhouses with a joint between you. This was different, somehow, it felt riskier. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper, “please?”

You could do little else but nod, the barest inclination of your head as your gaze fixed on his lips, dazed, almost.  

The hand not holding yours cupped your cheek, breaking the daze to draw your gaze to his again, and pulled you into him, your eyes closing as he pressed into you. It took mere seconds for you to become completely lost in the feeling of his lips as they grinned against yours, his tongue taking advantage of your gentle laugh to push past them, rolling against yours as you pressed your body further into his to ward off the chill of the empty corridor. 

His nose bumped against yours as you pressed up on your toes to be closer to him, his hand lifting, settling against the curve of your waist and tightening as he smirked against your lips. 

It was only the rude demands of your lungs that forced you back, breathless. 

“I love hearing you talk about the stuff you love.” It was muttered softly, his lips brushing yours as if to draw any further distance between you would condemn the moment. You barely registered the soft thrum of his thumb as it traced a small, absent-minded arc at your waist.

“Ajax?” You breathed his name quietly, your fingers curling into the fabric at his shoulder as you steadied yourself, still catching the last remnants of air.

“Yeah?” He leaned back just enough to search your face, eyes soft and attentive, the corners crinkling with the beginnings of a smile.

“Can you do that again?” Your voice came out barely above a whisper, your fingertips drifting down to his chest where his heart thudded just a little too quickly beneath your palm.

“Absolutely.” And he dipped his head toward you again, his hand sliding up to cradle your jaw as he guided you gently back into him.